Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Beady, obsidian eyes blinked calmly at the pair of shocked educators gawking. 

“You can’t be serious,” Aizawa finally stated. His voice had taken on a hard edge as he failed to keep his anger from seeping through it.

“On the contrary, I’m quite serious,” Principal Nezu answered evenly. “These boys need to understand how to work together effectively if they’re going to succeed here at UA, or in the future. This exercise will only serve to aid in that process.”

“HA!" Mic barked a crazed, unrestrained laugh that caused Aizawa and Nezu to both flinch. "Perhaps you're unfamiliar with the horror story that was Spring 2010?” 

Nezu neatly folded his paws together and answered patiently. “Although I was not here when my predecessor was running this institution, he did pass on the information of what transpired during you and Eraser’s second year here, yes. And from what I gather, it seems that his plan was a success! Not only did you both go on to graduate highly in your class, you two are still close and work together fabulously so many years later. You don’t think this would be beneficial for the boys, going through the same experience?” Nezu asked, eyebrows raised.

Aizawa and Mic shared a loaded look, both understanding that their situation was not nearly as precarious as their two problem children's was currently.

They'd simply hated one other because they were quite literally the definition of polar opposites. They'd gone through their trial due to an inability to respect one another or work together to get anything done - assignments, challenges, missions. It had gotten bad enough that it was hindering their progress to graduate and potentially even find work if they did manage to cross the stage, so their teachers had decided to take action.

Now that Aizawa was recalling the past incident it did sound rather similar to his disaster duo, but...

“It's not the same,” Aizawa finally stated. “These two don’t just fail to get along, they’ve got a past, and from what little I understand, it’s a long and complicated one. What they need is a counselor, not some ridiculous experiment that by luck happens to have a success rate and sample size of one pair,” he finished sourly, narrowing his gaze at the deceivingly cute creature in front of them.

“I believe you are greatly underestimating the effect this 'experiment' had on you and Mic’s relationship moving forward,” Nezu replied. “And while I would much prefer for you to be on board with this, this meeting is really more of a professional courtesy. Ultimately, I am the one running things, and I won’t stand by to allow these two to ruin their bright futures or slow down the progress of their classmates over some petty feud.”

“I’m just letting you two know," Nezu continued. “One - Because Eraser, these are your students and I don’t want you to be blindsided by this. And two - because the two of you are the only ones here who would understand what they’re going through. So, guide them. Make sure they learn from this experience.” His words and how he said them were pleasant, but the plastic quality his smile had taken on after stating this was not a negotiation had both teacher's before him ringingly silent.

Nezu moved from his spot in the front of the classroom, passing between the two heroes to the door, he pushed it open slightly before he turned back and ended the upsetting conversation with a smile and tinkling laugh. “I’ll make the call tonight!” he singsonged.

He slipped into the hall and slid the door closed behind him, the distinct thud of it in the new silence felt very final.

Mic gave the quiet about five seconds before he whipped in his seat to face Aizawa and hissed, “Shota, this is insane!"

Aizawa rubbed the heel of his palms into his eyes almost painfully in response. Mic continued on. "Yeah this worked on us, but-but who’s to say this will be beneficial for them? We barely made it back to our own bodies and we didn’t hate each another nearly as much as these two seem to, you know! I just-this is crazy!"

“I know,” Aizawa replied blandly. “We’re definitely going to have to keep an eye on them. I’m more concerned about having him around again.”

Aizawa could hear the hard, shaky exhale Mic let out at the mention of their old tormentor, the memory of the man responsible for their suffering all those years ago. He glanced over at him when he didn't instantly start in again with his fretful stammering.

“Fuck, he was so creepy,” Mic squeezed his eyes shut like it would help to avoid reliving those dark times. "I had nightmares for months-"

“We're grown men now 'Zashi. Act like it,” Aizawa muttered and Mic flashed him an affronted look. Aizawa worked to keep the bored expression on his face, though he, too, was struggling to keep the nauseous roll starting up in his stomach down. He heaved a great sigh as he got up and headed toward the door to make his way out of the room as well.

He heard Mic's chair scrape the floor as he moved to keep up with him. “I want very little to do with this, if I'm being honest, but we should probably come up with a some kind of plan here, right?”

He fell in step next to Aizawa as they made their way through the dimly lit hallways, his voice echoing off the empty corridors as he threw out idea after idea for how to best assist Bakugou and Midoriya on what was sure to be one of the most unnerving experiences of their young lives. Aizawa let him spiral and gave no response, walked on in silence. There was simply no plan they could create that would prepare those kids for what they were about to endure.

Chapter Text

The piercing shrill of an alarm stirred him from the dream he'd been trapped in. Izuku's first realization was that his heart was still racing. The sheets were sticky with sweat and the room felt muggy, a general sense of morning confusion had him struggling to remember what about the dream had him so worked up. But remembering a dream, even an intense one, only gets more difficult the closer you get to consciousness, so the bits that did come back were foggy at best. More ghosts of feelings rather than actual scenes.

Directionless in a dark room. Rhythmic, pulsing beat radiating through the room in waves, strong enough knock him back a step, to make the walls around him trembling with it. The presence of something else in the room with him…something looming, powerful. Feeling like his entire essence was being shaken out of him - then the offending sound of the alarm.

It was still going off and becoming increasingly more annoying as he groggily fumbled through the blankets to find his phone. Eyes barely opened, he put it to snooze and groaned as he settled back down. His body felt like he had been run over sometime during the night.

Other memories start to flood in then as he waded in that sleepy middle ground between asleep and awake. Meeting Kacchan at Ground Beta, them exchanging heated words as well as blows before All Might stepped in to neutralize the situation. The altercation ended much better than Izuku had ever imagined it could, he had still suffered at the hands of Kacchan’s rage, which is not something someone can just walk off.

Just sleeping forever sounded perfect, but nature was calling so Izuku dug deep and found the energy get himself up. Slowly, so, so slowly, he began to sit up, squinted to see with the minimal light coming through a gap in the blackout curtains. Wasn't his window on the other side of the wall?

He hesitantly began to move off from the bed, lifting the covers, and sliding his feet onto the floor. He tried to stand but immediately fell. His muscles felt brand new, like he'd never used them before. Almost as if he had no idea how to use them, as if he were trying again for the very first time. Even just attempting to pick himself back up off the floor seemed impossible.

“Ugh, seriously?” He groaned, but after speaking he froze. What was that? That wasn’t his voice. It was too gruff, too low. He cleared his throat and worked to get himself off the ground.

He managed to stand, this time making sure to focus on the mechanics of walking, something he didn’t think was necessary to do past the age of two or before the age of eighty, probably, but here he was, stumbling to the bathroom across the small living space.

Once inside he flipped on the light and stumbled over to the toilet. Moving to free himself from his boxers, he noticed they were orange...Izuku had no orange boxers, and he certainly didn’t have any boxers that hugged him this tight.

The alarm bells that had started up in the distance from the moment he'd opened his eyes were getting closer, louder. He moved to open the underwear in order to finally find some relief and then he was suddenly very much awake, because--

“That...is not my penis…” he stated dumbly, in that low voice that he'd already recognized to not be his own.

“This isn't my penis!” he screeched, dropping the appendage and scrambling back like there was anywhere to hide from something physically attached to your body.

Back now pressed firmly against the wall, breath coming out in shallow puffs, he caught movement in the mirror. Blonde is the only thing his brain registered before double taking and gaping into the reflective glass.

Staring back at him were cat-like crimson eyes and unruly ash blonde spikes sticking up in every direction.

Izuku did the only sensible thing one can do in this situation—he screamed. But the scream was nothing he expected it to be. It was low and guttural, almost like his vocal cords couldn’t comprehend the noise he was trying to make. This only caused him to scream louder, flinging himself out of the bathroom and as far away from the mirror as possible.

He was hyperventilating, didn't have any idea what the hell could be going on. He turned in a circle around his room, no, not his room, Kacchan’s room. He flung open the curtains and light poured over a tidy desk, a wall full of accolades, and Ground Zero's hero costume flung across a chair.

Oh, God.

A knock on the door made him jump he whipped his head towards the noise and weighed the options of answering. The knocking started again and he swallowed thickly, decided to answer against his better judgment, and moved toward the entrance of the room. He cautiously turned the handle, opened the door just a crack.

Glancing out nervously he saw Kirishima staring back, worry evident.

“Are you ok, man? It sounded like an animal was dying in there. What’s going on?” he moved to push into the room. Taking notice of what was happening Izuku pushed back in a panic.

“Everything’s fine, Kirishima! I’m good, really,” he attempted to assure him, feeling his face heat up. “Just, uh, saw a bug. Got it, though!”

Kirishima narrowed his eyes skeptically. “You just called me by my actual name. And you’ve never once screamed because of a bug before, dude. I’m coming in,” he said decidedly, and pushed against the door again before Izuku could react, successfully making his way inside.

Not two seconds after entering Kirishima had his hands over his eyes.

“Dude, what the hell - put that thing away!” he screeched. Izuku scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion before he realized that his dick was still out from his breakdown in the bathroom. Thoroughly embarrassed he quickly shoved it back inside and apologized profusely. Flailing his arms around as his face no doubt turned a brand new shade of red.

Finally convincing Kirishima it’s safe to look around now, he lowered his hands.

“Bro, I don’t know what's going on, but it’s too early for this shit,” He huffed out. “Are you sure you’re good? You're being kinda nice and it freaking me out a little bit.”

Izuku had no idea what to say to that. He was just staring at the concerned guy in front of him trying desperately to understand how he’d ended up in this situation.
The loud sounding of the alarm finally coming off of snooze again elicited a yelp from Izuku, which caused Kirishima to jump, surprised at the uncharacteristic noise coming from his usually tough-as-nails friend. 

The blaring of the alarm cutting through the room is what finally sends Izuku over the edge; all the pent up stress of his short time awake bubbled over at that exact moment and Izuku couldn't help himself, he did the one thing that never failed to calm him down.

“…Bro, are you...crying?” Kirishima whispered, completely dumbstruck by what he was witnessing.

“N-no,” Izuku struggled to get out, his tongue thick in his mouth. He moved to swipe a tear that threatened to fall and Kirishima’s gaped.

“I’m just going to come back later, man," Kirishama said while jabbing a thumb in the door’s direction. "You’re obviously going through something right now. But you can find me to talk if you need anything.” He said the last bit like a question and wasted no time making himself scarce. Kirishima quickly exited the room, but not before shooting one more worried and more than a little bewildered glance back at his friend.

Once he had left Izuku let the tears fall freely. But the action in Kacchan's body seemed to irritate his eyes and was borderline painful. 

He had absolutely no idea what was happening, or where to even begin to rectify the situation; the overbearing pressure he felt seemed like it would crush him soon enough. And as he drowned in negative thoughts, one jumped to the forefront of his mind.

If I’m in Kacchan’s body, then...

"Nooo, no. No, no, no, no-"

He flew down the halls to his room, crashing into the walls and falling to the floor a few times, his control over this body still a work in progress.

He made it to his door, breathing hard, and pounded on it furiously. He heard cursing coming from behind the door and his heart dropped like a stone.

He knocked again. Harder.

“Fuck off!” He heard in his own voice scream, then a very confused, “What the fuck?”

For the next minute and a half he hears a lot of stumbling, clanging, and cursing, which is probably a result of Kachann figuring out that walking is hard in someone else’s body.

But does he even know it isn’t his body yet? 

Izuku was about to blow up the hallway with the amount of sweat collecting on his hands. He continues rubbing the excess on his pants but it just wouldn't stop.

Kacchan finally reached the door and wrenched it open, a curse no doubt ready on his lips to murder whoever was waking him, but then he caught sight of just who was standing in the doorway and froze.

Wide verdant eyes blew wider with recognition as Kacchan noticed himself staring back.

Guess not, then.

Izuku sucked in a sharp breath as he watched himself through another set of eyes and flinched at the new, higher pitch to Kacchan’s enraged exclaim.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.”

Chapter Text

Being ejected from some dark, soul shaking dream by frantic knocking had been jarring. And tripping all over himself from his bed to the door had been infuriating. But wrenching the door open to find himself staring back with big, scared eyes and tear tracks down his face had been horrifying. 

"Hey, Kacchan," his doppelganger said shakily. 

Oh, fuck no. "Deku?"

"Heh, yeah. I'm you - and you're, uh, you're, well, me I guess."

"What?"

"I think we swapped bod-"

Katsuki had stopped listening.

I'm you and you're me. He frantically brought his hands up to his face. Anxiously bitten fingernails, gnarled fingers, excessive scar tissue - none of his usual dampness, no heat radiating off of them. Quirk gone. Shit. He could feel himself starting to panic and Deku's rapid fire muttering in the background wasn't helping at all.

Quick survey of the gaudy amount of memorabilia decorating the room told him he'd woken up in Deku's bed. He did a slow circle on still-wobbly legs and found the mirror he knew Deku had on the opposite wall.

Wild green eyes stared back at him. It was Deku's body alright. Unruly hair, scarred arms, and all those goddam freckles.

He found himself growling, though coming from Deku’s throat it didn’t sound half as threatening. He whirled on Deku, the swiftness of it startling enough to finally get him to shut up, and hissed, "What did you do?"

Deku threw his hand up and waved them in a frantic, appeasing gesture. "Wha-I didn't do anything!"

Katsuki yanked Deku inside the room by the collar and slammed the door shut behind them. “I’m gonna kill you. What did you do to me, huh?" he demanded. They were nose to nose now and Katuski could hear his voice getting a little crazed, wild, but Katsuki didn’t care. He was talking to his own face right now for fuck’s sake.

“Kacchan, I didn’t do anything," he said again slowly and calmly, likely to balance out Katsuki's rising temper. He had a death grip on Katsuki's wrists and the heat coming from those hands felt like a warning. "I woke up in the same situation as you, ok? So, please try and calm down so we can figure this out, yeah?”

So many emotions were swirling around inside him that Katsuki had no response. His hands just tightened in Deku's collar with murder no doubt in his eyes. Deku's hands tightened on his wrists in turn and he glared back with that reckless determination Katsuki couldn't stand. It was obvious the nerd was beginning to lose patience with Katsuki’s hysterics, but Katsuki didn’t give a shit. He was hardly present in reality anymore, too busy doing mental gymnastics to try and work out ideas for how to reverse whatever they we caught up in. Because Deku is the last person he should be in the situation with.

Fuck, what if he finds out? He can't. We need to figure out what the hell is going on before-

“We don’t have time for any more melt downs, Kacchan. We have class in a half hour. We need to—“ Katsuki tuned back in at this.

“We are not going to class like this," he cut him off firmly. He was still frazzled but he attempted to make himself look bigger, more imposing. It was almost comical and basically pointless in Deku's tiny ass body, though.

Deku rose to his full height and looked down at Katsuki in a way that made him way too small for his liking. Insignificant. “Yes, we are,” Deku refuted coolly.

“No."

Bickering went on for a truly childish amount of time, really, and only got worse once Deku threw his hands up in exasperation and yelled, "Stop whining and just get up already!”

Katsuki scrunched his face up in affronted disgust. “Oh, you’ve got a pair on you now, don’t you? Now that you’re in my body you think you can just order me around? I bet you like this don’t you, Deku? I obviously got the short end of the stick here—“

“You? Wha- you just jumped into the body that now controls the most powerful quirk on the planet,” Deku stated incredulously. “And I think even you know you couldn’t handle it on your best day.”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Katuski quickly closed the distance between himself them swiftly. “I can’t handle it? You’ve literally almost killed yourself on multiple occasions trying to use this damn quirk and haven’t even had it a year! I am not your weak ass. I could handle One-for-All in my sleep,” he scoffed, defiantly tipping his chin up to look Deku in the eye.

Katsuki forced himself not to noticeably flinch away as he stared into his own eyes, more than a little unnerved by the sharp, scrutinizing gaze.

Deku continued to peer down at him, curiously now, and then a slow, soft smile started to form on his lips that was throwing Katsuki for a loop. "I'm sorry I'm trying to take you seriously but this is so weird," he chuckled in wonder. "I'm taller than you now and you yapping up at me is...cute?" he sounded confused by the last part. Katsuki could feel his cheeks heating and his fury rising again. 

“Who-I--the fuck? Don’t talk down to me asshole!” He jabbed a crooked finger into his chest. “I may be in your puny ass body, but I’ll still kick your ass, you hear me?”

“Right," Deku drawled with an eye roll, his strange tenderness from just before gone. "Like you’d ever hit your own pretty face." He waved him off, turning his back to Katsuki and heading back towards the door.

Katsuki sputtered at the utter lack of respect and crazy shit flying out of Deku's mouth in turn. People were usually too scared to talk back or too intimidated to defy him. This is a new sensation for Katuski, being ignored, and he already fucking hated it.

Also, did Deku just call him pretty? What was that?

Katsuki fought off a stupid blush, of all things, and noticed Deku making to leave.

“Oi! Don’t walk away from me! What the hell do you think this is?”

“I’m pulling a you, on you, Kacchan, fucking deal with it,” he heard the nerd mimic his phrasing and attitude perfectly, the last few words he spoke rolled off of his tongue as effortlessly as if it were Katsuki’s own actions behind it. Katsuki stilled.

Huh. That was creepy as fuck. But also kind of…hot?

He had about two seconds to be mortified by that intrusive thought before it was forgotten as he heard his own voice giving him instructions from the hallway. “Be downstairs in five minutes, so we can work this mess out or I’m going to let the whole campus see you cry.”

Katuski through a heartfelt fuck you! back and slammed the door shut. He looked down at his foreign hands again and cursed. Nothing good could be coming of this, of that he was absolutely positive.

Chapter Text

Izuku found his way back to Kacchan’s room quickly, still running off the adrenaline of talking to Kacchan that way. Holy shit. It had just been so effortless - ordering him around like that, staring down into big green eyes, losing himself in them a little bit at one point...

He shook his head to clear it. Didn't think about it too hard. Couldn't. Didn't have time.

They were late, the morning having gotten away from them what with the whole world-flipped-upside down problem. He hastily picked through drawers to find their uniform, but even in his haste he couldn't help but notice how meticulous everything was in Kacchan’s room. Every article of clothing was pressed, every piece of paper on his desk in order, the floor was spotless. Izuku felt clunky and out of place trying to get all of the pieces he needed without disturbing what looked like a show room rather than a dorm a teenage boy actively lived in. Weird how opposite Kacchan's room was compared to his personality. 

Once he'd found everything he needed Izuku hesitated when it was time to go back to the bathroom. 

He was still unsure how to go about this whole seeing Kacchan naked situation. This body...it wasn’t his. But for the time being it technically was... He spiraled for a bit before settling on the fact that Kacchan would be going through the same thing and they didn't have much of a choice. Crossing normal privacy boundaries was an unavoidable side effect to obtaining someone else's body. Letting himself submit to that logic helped him to calm down a bit and he breathed easier for the first time since opening his eyes an hour ago. 

He managed to finish the rest of his morning routine without incident. Although, the entirety of it was still so strange. He couldn't but help finding something new every time to fixate on whenever he moved past a mirror.

How his hair slipped through his fingers as he attempted to style it - coarsely textured and seemingly stuck in permanent spikes. How his lips and tongue moved as he brushed his teeth. How the crisp uniform shirt pulled taught across his defined chest, his thick shoulders...it was all very distracting. And Izuku felt like his face was constantly flushed from the embarrassment. Because it was embarrassing. Being inside your crush's body and still fantasizing about it was embarrassing. Fantasizing about anything having to do with Kacchan while in his body, because what was wrong with him?

Izuku needed to get a grip. Something he'd been advising himself to do for years now. Because having feelings in and of itself was dangerous, but even more so when those feelings were for Bakugou Kastuki - because he was the least likely person on the planet to ever entertain them...and the most likely to detonate his heart if he was foolish enough to ever admit to them.

****

Izuku had made his way down to the kitchen and was halfway through making a quick bowl of cereal to throw back when he heard Kacchan join him. 

He came into the kitchen loudly mumbling something about Izuku being a demanding little shit and scraped one of the bar stools at the island against the floor, creating a rather awful screech. Izuku sighed quietly through his nose but didn't turn away from his task. Outside of Kacchan's antics, it was quiet in the kitchen, the whole bottom floor really. It appeared almost everyone else had already headed off to class. Meaning they were still behind, but at least they were still alone and able to avoid any difficult social interactions.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder where his eyes were immediately drawn to the disaster overtaking Kacchan’s head. 

“What did you do to my hair?” Izuku asked in astounded bewilderment. He didn't understand how Kacchan had managed to get the 'angry pigeon made a home in my curls' look in such a short amount of time.

“Don't fucking look at me like that, this mess has a mind of its own,” Kacchan stated in irritation. “I tried to do you a favor and run a comb through it for once in its life and this is the result."

Izuku ended up laughing. "Yeah, it gets angry when you try to tame it," he informed while opening and closing various drawers in search for a spoon. 

"Whatever," Kacchan grumbled as he went about stashing various fruits and protein bars in his bag. The last drawer Izuku slammed must have pushed him over the edge. "Can you stop? What the hell are you even looking for?"

"Spoon. Cereal was supposed to be fast, but someone moved everyth-oh, found one! Wha-Hey!"

Izuku missed Kacchan jumping up out of his chair to fly around the island. Only noticed him when he was right at his side and then slapping the newly acquired spoon out of the Izuku's hand just as he’d been about to take his first bite. Izuku’s eyes followed the spoon as it clattered loudly on the floor, milk and multicolored grains scattered at their feet.

“Why?” Izuku demanded loudly. He shoved past Kacchan to retrieve the assaulted utensil.

“Don’t put fucking cow's milk and whatever sugary crap that is in my body, you idiot! Do you know what kind of diet I’m on? You’ll wreck all my progress with that shit!” Katsuki informed him haughtily. He promptly snatched the bowl and the newly retrieved spoon out of Deku's hands and dumped all its contents into the sink. He kept direct eye contact with Izuku as he'd done it, glaring. All Izuku could do was stare back with confused concern.

“I seriously think you may be insane,” Izuku decided.

“I-"

Izuku cut him off from what is sure to be some type of obnoxious rant. “Whatever, Kacchan. Just give me a list or something of what I’m supposed to eat and I’ll eat it, I’m not about to argue with you right now, we have to go.”

This seemed to leave Kacchan at a loss for words, like he couldn't decide if he should be upset for just being insulted and cut off or smug after having just won this argument by default.

Izuku readily took advantage of Kacchan’s silence, a truly rare opportunity, and added on quickly, “We need to pretend to be each other while we figure out how this happened.” 

Izuku didn't have the faintest idea about might have happened to them but maybe acting natural would do them better than running unthinkingly into the unknown, right? Ease themselves into the situation? Avoid Aizawa's undoubted wrath if he found out his problem children were caught up in yet another unfortunate turn of events?

He didn't even get to finish the explanation his line of thinking before he Kacchan started laughing. Izuku furrowed his brow, lost.

“...What’s funny?” he asked.

“What’s funny,” Kacchan answered between guffaws. "Is you thinking you could pretend to me.”

“And why exactly is that funny?” Izuku demanded, confusion quickly turning into irritation.

“Because no one can pull off being me. I’m me. I’m fucking fantastic,” he laughed again. "Although I’m not gonna lie. What you did back there in the hallway, talking to me the way you did, while annoying as all hell, was pretty damn close.” Kacchan shrugged, seemingly inclined to give him the small compliment. He moved back around to his original side of the island to splay his now scared hands across the surface, leaning over it to look Izuku right in the eye.

“But mimicking what I say and impersonating who I am are two different things entirely, Deku, and I honestly just don't think you’re up to the challenge.”

“Yeah? But you think you could pull off being me?”

Kacchan smiled devilishly, peered up at Izuku through tangled bangs, and responded with one word. “Easy.”

Izuku found it hard to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. The intensity of that stare brought on a weird tingle that ran down the length of his body. Similar to earlier he found himself getting lost in those big, expressive eyes...

He understood it was unnerving having his own large, twinkling, evergreen eyes looking through him in an almost predatory way. But the strong surge of anxiety that crept up right after the full body tingling was a surprise. Izuku didn’t understand where that particular feeling was coming from. He was no stranger to it, so him not being able to put his finger on the reasoning behind it was also off-putting. Both reactions came on so suddenly Izuku was stunned to silence as he tried to piece together just what exactly was going on with the body he was currently in.

All this brought on by how his eyes were staring at him. It was...strange.

Why is my heart beating so fast? 

There was no time to analyze whatever the hell any of that was because in a flash, Kacchan was shouldering his backpack, shoving Izuku his own, grabbing Izuku by the wrist in a vise grip and yanking him through the front doors - off to class.

Chapter Text

Katsuki heard the front door to the dorms slam shut and Deku protesting behind him as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the new day.

“Quit your whining, shit nerd,” Katsuki said as he moved far enough away from the dorms that they wouldn't be overheard. They headed down a path that was less traveled - it still headed to the section of campus where classes were held but here they were less likely to run into anyone else. Once they were firmly in the more shaded, less visible area Katsuki let go of Deku.

“Here,” he stated, satisfied.

“Here, what?” Deku asked, annoyed, rubbing at his wrist like the princess he was and taking a look around.

“Show me what you’ve got,” Katsuki demanded impatiently. "I already know you’re going to need a fuck ton of work, but show me what I’m working with so I know what we need to focus on.”

“What exactly are you wanting me to do here, Kacchan?” Deku asked, perplexed.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, and tried to reign in his temper.

“Strut, idiot! And throw in a 'fuck' or something so I can see if you can actually go out in public as me or not, damn. I thought you were supposed to be smart?”

Katsuki wasn't all too sure why they needed to pretend to be one another, but he trusted Deku's judgement enough to go along with it (yes, he was shocked himself, fuck off), and at this point it was a challenge of who could pass better than the other. And Katsuki did love a challenge. 

Deku looked around again frantically and sputtered, “H-here? But we don't have time for-”

Katsuki sneered. “Nervous? You seemed determined earlier when I suggested you couldn’t be me. I for sure thought you were going to at least try and prove me wrong, but guess I was wrong. Still chicken shit as ever it seems."

Deku immediately straightened at the doubt in Katsuki's tone. Predictable. He glared at Katsuki before he found a suitable starting spot on the sidewalk for what was no doubt going to be the world’s most embarrassing catwalk.

Katsuki leaned against a nearby tree lazily and smiled smugly. He watched as Deku took a few centering breathes and rolled his shoulders to fall into a more relaxed stance.

“Not a bad start!" Katsuki called out. "Getting that stick out of your ass was definitely first thing on my list." Katsuki snickered to himself at his own joke, but judging by the sheer amount of concentration Deku was giving this he doubts the nerd had even heard him.

When he noticed Deku undoing the first few buttons on his uniform top, ditching the tie, and sagging his pants slightly he nodded appreciatively. “Hell yeah! Give the people what they want! A little skin goes a looong way,” he waggled his eyebrows, goading Deku into fucking up. That comment seemed to get through to him because Deku made sure to flip him off for his troubles. The gesture was stiff and had not real conviction behind it but Katuski was still almost semi-impressed by the attempt.

It was short lived.

Deku took one final steadying breath and began to walk. He made it to the next tree a handful of feet away before he turned around, about to strut back to Katsuki, when he stoped due to his audience now being on the ground doubled over with laughter.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Katsuki wanted him to do well, seriously. He needed Deku to do well so he wouldn’t look like an actual dumbass for however long they were stuck like this, but Katsuki simply couldn’t help himself after seeing Deku’s sad ass attempt at his stride.

“I know geriatrics that make walking look less painful, Deku. What was that?” he managed as he came down from his belly laughs.

“What?” Deku huffed out as he made his way back over to Katsuki, cheeks ablaze. He stuck crossed his arms tightly, defensively in exasperation. “That’s exactly how you walk! Laid back, loose stride, open gate, one hand in a pocket, holding your bag on the other shoulder, resting ‘I hate the world’ face…what did I miss?”

Katsuki blinked. Huh. Had Deku really been paying that close of attention to him over the years? He was spot on with everything he had just said. And Katsuki might have even been impressed if not for his absolutely piss poor delivery of it all. 

“You’re in your head way too much, you damn nerd,” Katsuki said as he made his way up off the grass and back into Deku’s personal space.

He took his pointer finger and smoothed out the crease forming between Deku's now blonde eyebrows. “This right here. You can tell you’re overthinking, it’s written all over your face. And you talk about being relaxed but you were stiff as fuck. Also, it wouldn’t kill you to show even an ounce of confidence. Do you see the body you’re in? People literally cower in my presence, use that.”

Katsuki is almost positive Deku stopped listening the moment he had touched his face, if the shocked look still playing across his features long after he had finished his critiques was any indication. Deku's cheeks were now dusted a slight pink and his lips had parted enough for the small, quick breathes Deku was now taking in to circulate through.

“Oi, idiot, are you even listening?” He gently slapped Deku’s cheek a few times.

“Mhm,” Deku replied almost dreamily. "Confidence, don’t over think, hot body makes people cower...”

This gets all of Katsuki’s attention. “What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“You were saying something about my hot body?”

Deku shook his head furiously, coming out of whatever trance he had been in. “What? No! I was just repeating what you said!”

“I didn’t say anything about being sexy,” Katsuki laughed, thoroughly enjoying getting Deku riled up.

“I said ‘hot’ not sexy!” Deku wailed, Katsuki’s poor face becoming a shade of red he’d literally never seen before. It was fucking hilarious.

“So you do admit to calling me hot then, perv,” Katsuki teased. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking advantage of this situation we’ve found ourselves in, hm?”

“I-“ Deku tried to defend himself but seemed to be drawing a blank for words, the entirety of his upper half becoming ridiculously flushed.

“Relax,” Katsuki chuckled. “I won’t tell anyone you think I’m a God among men,” he waved it off, pushing through Deku's attempt to start up more objections. "Anyway, I still have yet to hear any cursing. I believe I asked for that.”

Deku just stared at him. Apparently he was still struggling from Katsuki's teasing. He ended up bringing the nerd back to the present with one more small hit to the face.

“Swear, Deku,” Katsuki demanded. "Now. Cuss me out.”

“I…“ Deku began, then sighed in exasperation. “I can’t Kacchan. It's just...not my thing,” he said quietly, like its some massive secret or something that the sunshine boy of 1-A doesn't know how to be a delinquent.

“Yeah, no shit, every time I say anything above PG-13 rating in this body it feels like my mouth’s physically incapable of forming the word, it’s fucking irritating. Why do you think I’ve cut back so much?”

“You mean to tell me this is you reigning it in?” Deku asked incredulously.

“Hey, don’t be an ass, I’m working hard over here trying to be your G rated self. We’re getting off track. If you can’t full on cuss me out then we’ll start with single words. Say ‘shit’,” Katsuki directs.

Deku takes a deep breath.

“Ok,” he closed his eyes. “Ok, shi-t-um. Shi-ugh. Shit,” he finished flatly, looking out of one eye to gauge Katsuki’s reaction. Needless to say Katsuki was incredibly unimpressed.

“That was the weakest shit I’ve ever seen, Deku, come on,” he dragged his hands down his face. "This is trade mark Bakugou behavior. You realize that, right?” 

“I know," Deku responded, mildly irritated at Katsuki's need to point out the obvious.

“People are definitely going to think something is up if you don’t pull this together soon,” he continued, goading Deku on to test out a theory he’d been mulling over. 

“I know,” Deku ground out this time, anger rising.

“Do you? Because it’s seems like you’re just pussyfooting around. And here I was thinking you’d started to grow a pair."

“I’m trying my best, asshole!” Deku immediately slapped his hands over his mouth, surprised at his outburst.

Katsuki is taken aback a bit, too, but smiles approvingly anyway. “Hell yeah! I knew it!”

“I don’t know why I just said that," Deku whispered in shock from behind his fingers. "I got angry and it’s like-the words just flew out of me!” 

“Yeah, I was trying to piss you off. Once I realized it was hard for me to cuss because it’s not something your body recognizes, I figured since I cuss the most when I’m angry, it would become second nature to react with cursing if I pushed your buttons a little in my body,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“That actually…made a lot of sense,” Deku said, removing his hands from over his mouth.

“Of course it did? I’m a fucking genius, thank you.”

Deku rolled his eyes, but immediately started talking to himself under his breath trying to piece things together. “So we originally thought we switched bodies, but it seems our bodies still respond to their normal triggers…so did we really switch bodies or just...consciousnesses within our bodies…hmm.”

“Stop the muttering shit, if you’ve got something to say, share it with the whole class,” Katsuki said while punching Deku in the shoulder.

Deku blinked out of his trance to rub the spot. “It’s nothing Kacchan. I'm just trying to make sense of things,” he replied.

“You think our bodies still respond to their original triggers and not whatever consciousness’ triggers are attached to the body we're currently in control of?” Katsuki pushed on anyway.

“Maybe?” 

Katsuki hummed to himself before replying. “That would explain a lot then. Like why I started blushing and hyperventilating when I saw round face this morning coming out of the your room. That was your stupid body reacting to her, not me. Although similar things happen whenever I’m around you in my body, so I’m not sure how that works…”

Deku coughed forcefully and Katsuki gave him a disgusted what the fuck look. Deku didn't respond, just cleared his throat, slid his eyes to the side, and changed topics.

“Is there anything else? I’ll keep working to get the walk down and we now know I can say 'asshole', happy?”

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders and started to head towards class again, it was a good as it was going to get for now.

They continued for a minute or so before Deku asked. “So you get to judge and criticize, but I’m just supposed to have faith that you’ll do a decent job being me? No questions asked?”

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder and gave and unimpressed raise of his brow. “Watch this.”

He proceeded to hunch his shoulder slightly, gnawing on his lower lip periodically, eyes taking on an innocent wonder. The smug look on his face transformed into an expression that made him look not only approachable but downright non-threatening. He began to walk in small hurried steps, his hands moving from worrying the straps of his backpack to tugging at the hem of his uniform jacket, all the while muttering to himself.

Katsuki stopped a good distance away and turned around prepared to walk back, but then sees the astonished expression on Deku’s face and takes that as confirmation enough that he'd  been spot on. He switched from insecure Deku back to cocky Katsuki in an instant and did his best final curtain bow.

“Like I said—easy,” he repeated his word from earlier, stood up, and turned his back on Deku. He continued to stalk off without a reply from the idiot he’d just imitated so perfectly, leaving a very stunned Deku in his wake.

Deku recovered eventually and chased after Katsuki yelling, “I have notes!” Though Katsuki is sure it’s only to help his own ego, not wanting to be the only one struggling in the other’s shoes.

Katsuki chuckled to himself in response, shook his head. Not believing for a second his Deku imitation wasn’t Oscar worthy at the very least. And how could it not be?  He'd only been curiously watching the guy all his life…

Chapter Text

“No! For the love of—are you even paying attention? Like this!”

Izuku sighed and wondered how this walk to class had not only drug on for so long, but had also seemed to bring out an even more insufferable side of Kacchan than he was used to. 

Izuku was more than fed up with his attitude for the day and the sun had barely broken the horizon. He still watched attentively, however, as Kacchan showed him, for the millionth time, how to immitate his movements. 

Kacchan giving slow, deliberate, step-by-step instructions, like he was showing a child how to do something, caused an irritated twitch to take up around Izuku’s eye.

“That’s what I’ve been doing, Kacchan!” he yelled suddenly, not being able to take his criticism any longer. “You’re being way too picky right now."

“Picky, huh? You're the one who said we should be each other. So, excuse the fuck out of me for wanting to make sure my reputation is left intact after…” Kacchan struggled to find the words. Izuku waited, expression expectant and annoyed. "--Whatever the hell this is, dammit, you know what I’m trying to say!” he finished in a huff of anger.

Izuku resisted the urge to drag his hands down his face. 

“And you think that I’m not worried about mine?” he asked, his voice rising an octave. “You’re not exactly doing me any favors! At least I’m trying,” he said giving Kacchan an accusatory glare.

“Here we go with the whining again,” Katsuki muttered in annoyance. “Fine, nerd, what the hell do I need to be working on?”

Izuku blinked, attempting to mask his surprise at Kacchan actually asking him for guidance for maybe the first time ever. It was begrudging, of course, but still.

“Um,” Izuku started intelligently. "Ok, well, you need to seriously forget about the cursing, and a smile wouldn’t kill you," he started in, finding his stride and ticking things off one finger at a time. "Also you need to figure out a way to talk to others that doesn’t consist of snarling and grunting. That may work for you, but ‘Midoriya’ doesn’t behave like a feral animal.”

“You little shi-” 

Izuku doesn’t let him finish. “You’re listening now. Quiet.”

“Who. The fu-” Izuku slapped a hand over his mouth and watched Kacchan’s eyes bulge, hostility rolling off of him in waves.

“What did I just? And you’re still growling at me right now. You being able to walk the walk means nothing. I’m more than my timid tendencies, Kacchan,” he concluded sternly.

Kacchan seemed to be taken aback by the sudden seriousness in Izuku’s voice. His facial expression softened ever so slightly as he took Izuku in with those large mossy eyes. Izuku’s stomach flipped like it had been on and off all morning at the subtle changes in his features.

But just as quickly as it appeared, the calm is earased from Kacchan's face and he's ripping out from under Izuku's hand with a reluctant grumble. 

“Fucking fine,” Kacchan all but spat through clenched teeth.

Izuku was surprised at the lack of resistance on Kacchan’s part to agree to his wishes, but he was appreciative nonetheless. He knew he was tiptoeing a very delicate line right now, but he was over Kacchan’s superior attitude. If they were going to get through this then they both had to be putting forth effort, so Izuku wasn’t going to let him off so easily.

Izuku nods. “Good. We have a couple more minutes before class, you can critique me a bit more and we’ll work on how you’re going to approach people like a normal human being, sound like a plan?”

Kacchan gave him a side eyed glower, but doesn’t openly object to the idea. Win.

Izuku continued forward towards class, practicing his walk while Kacchan would stop him and demonstrate what he needed to fix. Eventually they were both walking side by side, strutting, while Izuku forced Kacchan to smile, laugh, and dared him to go two sentences without swearing. 

It was no doubt a scene to behold, the two boys working the sidewalk with a trademark Katsuki swagger on one side and forcing out strained laughs and genuine smiles on the other.

We probably look ridiculous, but at least he’s trying, I guess.

As Kacchan was working through another strained practice conversation, trying to use his hands the way Izuku always did, Izuku noticed twinkling in his peripheral. He slowly turned to see Aoyama sauntering beside him.

“Bonjour, friends!” he greeted them in that tinkling voice of his, smile too bright, as he strode in tandem with the duo.

Kacchan only grunted, more than likely prepared to ignore their annoying classmate altogether, and turned back to Izuku to continue their lesson when Aoyama began to hum, still walking with them.

Izuku noticed Kacchan tense, visibly irritated, and whip his head around towards their new arrival again. He was framing his face with his hands.

“What the fu-,” Kacchan took a deep breath. "What are you doing?” He said in the calmest voice Izuku was sure he could muster, though Izuku could still hear the restrained rage and impatience behind his words.

“Vogue-ing! What? You two are the only ones allowed to have all the fun gracing the sidewalk? You know I live to shine,” Aoyama replied with a giggle, then continued on with the tune he’d been humming.

“Um, is that Madonna?” Izuku asked.

“Yes! I’m impressed Bakugou! Who would’ve guessed you of all people would know ‘Vogue’,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. "Magnifique!”

Kacchan bore a murderous gaze into Izuku. “Yeah Kacchan, who would’ve guessed,” he ground out.

Izuku mouthed a sorry while trying to hold back his laughter. He knew he had just broken character but this whole situation was funny, if a bit surreal.

Kacchan was about to say something when Aoyama cut back in. “We should do this with the girls! A fashion show of sorts, hmm? I have the perfect soundtra-" apparently that was a far into the conversation as Kacchan could pretend.

“We’re not havin' a shittin' fashion show you glittery nightmare. No strutting, no modeling, no soundtrack, no fucking ‘Vogue-ing’, no girls, no nothin’! Now get the fuck out of my face, all this damn sparkling is literally blinding me, for fuck’s sake.”

Aoyama faltered in his stride, face in utter shock after hearing something so hostile and hurtful come out of Izuku’s mouth.

Izuku elbowed Kacchan hard in the ribs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Kacchan turned towards Izuku, eyes ablaze, ready to continue with his expletives when he caught Izuku’s fierce scowl. 

Realizing he, too, had just broken character, Kacchan attempted to save face.

“I – uh – sorry Twinkle Toes. Sure. That could be fun...I guess?” He looked back to Izuku and shrugged, looking for guidance. 

Izuku shot him another savage look before addressing Aoyama himself. “I’m sure the girls would love a fashion show Aoyama, you should definitely pitch the idea.”

Aoyama practically tripped over himself after hearing who he believed to be Bakugo talking to him in such a gentle and reassuring way.

“Qui... I think they would, too,” he agreed hesitantly, looking between the two uneasily.

“Think who would what?” Ochacko asked from right behind Kacchan, causing him to jump.

“Christ - Warn a guy or somethin’!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Deku!” She apologized earnestly, looking concerned.

Izuku watched as Kacchan flushed from head to toe, no doubt due to being in such close proximity to her, what with her torso leaned into his space and chest poked out as she ruffled his hair. Izuku was sure his body was failing to function right now, was glad he wasn't having to deal with it.

But seeing them this way through Kacchan's eyes, close together, Kacchan’s now freckled cheeks darkening, Ochako’s ears turning pink, set something off inside Izuku. His blood pressure spiked watching the two of them interact. 

Ugh. Why is his body reacting like this? Does he really hate us this much?

Izuku snapped back to reality when he heard Kacchan now screaming at Iida, who had also managed to sneak up on him as he was distracted by Ochacko.

“Do either of you know how to make your presence known, huh? Sneaky little fuc-” Kacchan stopped himself, clamped his mouth shut to glare at the two new additions to their walking group. It seemed he was having to work especially hard to keep up his Izuku facade. “I’m out of here,” he said decisively and fleed from the growing crowd before anyone could respond.

Izuku watched as Ochacko pouted at his abrupt exit, longingly looking after him before chasing to catch up, and his vision began to dim to red. He had to physically hold back a growl that threatened to cross his lips.

Seriously-what the hell was this?

He shook his head to clear the vexed fog that had rolled in.

He'd fallen behind the pack and rushed to trail the other three, focusing on how everyone was attempting to make small talk with Kacchan and thoroughly avoiding any kind of interaction with himself, believing the two were still their same old selves.

Izuku knew Kacchan was surely hating every second of attention he was receiving. He’d made it abundantly clear that he thinks very little of most of their classmates and went out of his way to make sure they didn’t bother him.

Despite the switched roles at the moment, though, Kacchan seemed to be taking his mission seriously, which made Izuku feel like he had to care...at least a little. It was a dangerous idea to entertain, but here Izuku was, letting it occupy his thoughts in spite of knowing it would lead to nothing good.

Eventually they all made it to class. Ochacko and Aoyama were now excitedly whispering plans for an all dorms fashion show, while Iida was talking Kacchan’s ear off about some updated part of the school manual. 

Izuku could see the aggravated vein popping out of Kacchan’s temple, forming from the sheer concentration at not annihilating their class representative.

Yaoyorozu gave Kacchan an opportunity to escape when she pulled Iida aside to ask him something, and he'd wasted no time bee-lining to where Izuku stood across the hall.

“I’m ready to die by my own hands. Go ahead, blow my face in,” Kacchan said. "I can’t do this. I almost had an aneurysm trying to have a five minute conversation with fucking glasses, and if that goofy chick rubs up against me one more time I’m going to absolutely lose it. How do you live not having any personal space? How do you live breaking out into a sweat every time she walks into your line of sight? It is exhausting being you, and I’ve only been stuck like this for about, what? An hour?”

“Are you done?” Izuku asked, unimpressed, after Kacchan’s long winded rant.

Kacchan narrowed his eyes in response, about to retort when Iida made the announcement that class was about to start. 

Everyone ushered into the classroom but the two of them.

“Ok,” Izuku took a steadying breath. "We can do this, right?” He looked down at Kacchan who rolled his eyes before turning on his heel to head towards the entrance.

“It’s just class, Deku. Relax,” he insisted. Izuku nodded and moved to follow him, but stopped short again.

“Hey, Kacchan? I just wanted to let you know that you actually did an ok job being me around my friends. I mean it was only for a few minutes, and I’m sure they’re still probably...concerned,” he shook his head remembering the look on his Ayoama's face after Kacchan had told him off. "But…thanks, you know. For trying,” he said, keeping his eyes low before looking up to meet Kacchan’s.

“You’re fucking embarrassing,” is how Kacchan decided to answer rudely, but the blush creeping up his cheeks told Izuku the thanks didn't go unappreciated.

As calloused as it was, Izuku knew that’s the best reaction he’s going to get from the emotional enigma that was Kacchan, so he just took the insult in stride. A smile on his lips as he followed Kacchan to the door.

They were just about to pass the threshold of the classroom when Iida popped up in front of them.

“What are you two doing?” he yelled in that strict class rep way of his, catching the whole classes attention. “Class begins in exactly thirty seconds and you haven’t even made it to your desks yet! If Aizawa sees you up and about, there will be hell to pay!” 

Izuku mumbled an apology at the same time Kacchan responded with a fuck off, asshole, you aren’t at your desk either.

The classroom went pin drop quiet as every pair of eyes widened, each face gawking at 'Bakugou' apologizing and 'Midoriya' telling his own friend off.

Izuku and Kacchan don’t take any notice of their mistakes as they make their way to the far side of the room. Izuku sat in the second desk from the front, as he always did. He moved to set his backpack down when he felt a smack upside the head.

“Oi,” Kacchan whispered in a loud hiss. "That’s my seat, Kacchan,” he said his own nickname in a nasally, snot nosed voice. A poor imitation of Izuku.

“Did you really have to smack me?” Izuku hissed back, irritated, rubbing the spot.

“Just get out of the fucking seat already, loser,” Kacchan snapped.

“I am, can you back up? Jeez.” Izuku replied in exasperation as he moved to stand toe-to-toe with Kacchan. 

They continued to bicker back and forth until Todoroki’s smooth, controlled voice cut through the classroom.

“So - are we all seeing this?”

The entire class collectively started talking over each other at once, the volume level roaring up in a split second.

Ochacko nodded her head in agreement. “Deku has been acting on edge all morning and Bakugo is almost...tame? I-”

Aoyama interjected. “Midoriya snapped at me on our way to class and Bakugo was friendly, to me of all people and even talked to me about Modonna! It was tres concerne..."

“Midoriya has never spoken to me that way...” Iida added from where he was still frozen in the doorway.

Kirishima stood up abruptly, his chair obnoxiously scrapping the floor as he did so, causing the class to stop and listen. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but my bro was crying earlier. I think he’s going through something guys, so just leave him alone!” He yelled in a reprimanding tone in an attempt to defend his friend’s honor, but instead all he succeeded in doing was airing Izuku's embarrassing moment from earlier to the entire class. 

The uproar that ensued after Kirishima's final comment was deafening.

Kacchan turned away from the mayhem to look Izuku right in the eye. Izuku saw nothing but pure, unadulterated ire burning in those green eyes.

“You. Cried. In front of Kirishima?” Kacchan punctuated each word in a clipped-off tone, eye twitching as he moved in to corner Izuku. A crazed smile split across his face. “You’re dead.”

Izuku raised his hands in defense, flailing them around as he attempted to explain the situation while he backed away, “I-no, it was an accident! He surprised me! So-the mirror and t-the alarm-uh, not the face-” his voice cracked on the last word as it rose several octaves.

Kacchan had him by the shirt at this point bringing his fist up while the class absolutely lost it behind them.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Aizawa irritated voice boomed from the doorway.

The class immediately fell silent as their teacher dragged himself into the room. All mouths shut, Kacchan released Izuku, and every head snapped forward in attention.

Iida scurried to his desk and started to respond when Aizawa finally caught the two boys standing in the corner and cut off his brown nosing to interrogate them.

“What are you two doing here? I explicitly remember putting both of you on house arrest."

Impressed that it was possible, Izuku saw Kacchan’s glare towards him deepen. “I fucking told you we shouldn’t have come to class, stupid asshole,” he whispered, venom dripping from each word.

Welp we'd had a decent moment--kind of...then Kirishima happened.

Izuku sighed irritably. “I forgot, Kacchan. We both did. Give me break,” Izuku snapped back sharply.

The whole room erupted again as everyone responded with a shocked WHAT. They all began shouting out questions simultaneously once more. 

Aizawa, now irate, activated his quirk. The menacing stare down he had with the class being enough to get everyone to instantly shut their mouths again. Aizawa turned back to the two of them unamused. “You two. Up here. Now,” he motioned to the podium he now stood behind, and left no room for argument.

They both moved to the front of the room, heads bowed in respect, to receive their teacher’s reprimands.

“Meet me in my office at the end of the day,” he said in a low voice that the rest of the class surely couldn't hear, then louder, “Don’t let me catch you in here again before your sentences are up. And that dorm better be spotless come nightfall. Understood?" He and Kacchan shared sidelong glances before giving slow nods in response. Aizawa waved his hand dismissively. "Go."

The silence that had fallen over the room was still deafening as they made their exit and Izuku could feel every eye boring into their retreating backs. He chanced as glance at Kacchan - and yep, he was already glaring at him. Izuku heaved a great sigh. Things were not off to a great start.

Chapter Text

The duo had made it halfway back across campus in silence, save for the stream of muttering that never seemed to stop flying out of Deku’s mouth. 

Katsuki rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. However, he was starting to come down from the adrenaline rush he'd been riding all morning since realizing he was trapped in another body, and now various aches and pains from every part of his body were making themselves know. And with every eye roll the new pounding in his head throbbed harder.

He swayed ever so slightly, suddenly lightheaded and dizzy with it. Everything hurt and he was exhausted.

“Fuck, I feel like I was hit with by a train,” Katsuki groused. “What is up with your weak ass body now?”

Deku stopped his muttering to turn and give Katsuki an incredulous look. “Kacchan, you literally slammed me into the concrete from ten stories up less than twenty-four hours ago. Oh, and that was after using full force explosions on me at point blank range. So, I don't know, it might have something to do with that,” he snarked back. 

Katsuki chuckled darkly at the memory. But he didn't get more than a few good laughs in before he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath. Laughing jostled the bruised ribs. Less of that.

“Yeah, I kicked your ass, huh?” he'd tried to cockily reply, but it came out pained and winded despite his best at appearing unfazed by the shooting pain radiating from all throughout his body now. 

Deku side eyed him before looking away again and mumbled, “You barely won."

“Wanna say that again?” 

Deku surprised Katsuki by actually meeting his eyes to repeat himself. “You got in a few good hits in, in the beginning, when I was trying to stop the fight, but once I decided to try you were barely able to keep up."

Katsuki scoffed and eased off of his anger a bit. Suddenly didn't feel in the mood to fight for real. “Yeah? All I’m hearing, is that you were trying and still lost,” he shot back casually, attempting to feign indifference as he looked away in irritation.

Katsuki knew he'd hardly made it out of that fight victorious and to have that fact thrown in his face was borderline humiliating. He’d spent years honing and developing his Quirk just to have Deku come into One-for-All, develop it, and damn near surpass him in just a few short months. 

The whole ordeal made Katsuki’s blood boil.

He continued looking away from Deku so as not to let him see the bitterness he was sure had twisted up his face up into something ugly. Hurt.

“I barely lost," Deku continued on anyway, oblivious. "And, to be honest with you, I wasn’t even using One for All at max capacity, so you almost lost to me not even at my peak yet. Your body feels like crap right now too, by the way, and that’s just from me using a small percentage of my Quirk on you!” Deku laughed gleefully. It seemed he was just overly excited about having sparred with someone who he'd looked up to for so long and almost won, not necessarily trying to tear Katsuki down.

The words still made Katsuki’s sick to his stomach all the same.

Katsuki tried to shake himself out of the spiral he could feel himself starting to fall into and shoved past Deku. He pointedly knocked their shoulders together and reached the door to the dorms first. He was working hard to keep his face impassive as he passed him, but he could feel it wavering.

He stormed over the threshold into the common area and didn't bother to justify Deku’s statement with an answer in fear that he'd slip up and say something he’d regret later. Something that would make him sound as weak and pathetic as he felt. 

“Aw, Kacchan, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset! You did still beat me after all. You’re still amazing!” Deku assured in that way that always rubbed Katuski the wrong way. He didn't need to be coddled. He didn't.

“Fuck off,” he growled back. “I know I won. And I know it was a close fight. That’s why I’m gonna keep busting my ass to beat you out for the number one title, you hear me?”

Deku blinked at his abrupt response, then smiled warmly. “Sure, Kacchan. I hear you.” 

Katsuki sneered at his placating tone, before whipping around toward the elevator. 

“Where are you going?” Deku asked, coming up behind him.

“I’m going to change, and to get some fucking peace and quiet for a few seconds. Don’t follow me or I’m seriously going to lose my shit,” he stated firmly, making one final effort to squash the inner feelings of dread beginning to mirror on his face, so he could look Deku in the eyes and show just how serious he was about being left alone. 

Deku raised his hands in surrender.“Fine, I’ll just, uh--I guess I’ll change too. Maybe start in the kitchen?” 

Katsuki was already stalking off, eyes low, hands shoved in his pockets. He only he replied with a defeated whatever.

****

One of Katsuki’s biggest stress relievers was destroying his perfectly put together room.

The whole process helped him satiate his rage in a controlled setting, alone, and without blowing anything up.  It was the easiest way for him work through his feelings. He'd start by wrecking the room, channeling his inner turmoil. This calmed him down. Then he'd piece it back together again. This returned him to center. It was a routine, just like every other Katsuki had, made to keep him sane and keep his number of assaults on random idiots low...ish.

He’d never been a man of words, always a man of action. Talking shit out was damn near impossible. Stressful, infuriating.

Wrecking things was uncomplicated and undemanding of him needing to understand emotions, which was just how he liked it. 

And he'd thought of nothing else but upending Deku’s room as he made his way back to his new home for fuck knew how long. He could feel his anticipation growing, and once he rushed through the door he was ready to annihilate the place, but came to an abrupt stop once he saw what lie in front of him. The door slammed loudly behind him and Katsuki seethed.

He glared around the small space and let out a snarl. He'd known from earlier that Deku's space wasn’t nearly as clean as his own, but he hadn’t fully registered just how much of a mess it truly was. 

The room was already in disarray. Papers were everywhere, littering the floor, desktop, drawers, even the foot of his bed. Pens and pencils were also scattered around, as well as laundry and shoes. Figurines cluttered every square inch of available space...

Is he serious with this shit? There are toddlers with tidier rooms! 

Furious that he now had no readily available way of riding himself of these complicated feelings, he made for the dressers on the far wall, deciding to move on to his original task of changing his clothes. He angrily kicked anything in his path along the way.

He opened one of the draws and found a pair of athletic shorts and a ratty old shirt. He snatched them out but paused his flurry of movement when the shirt unfold to reveal faded All Might catch phrase.

Katsuki vaguely remembered it from childhood and how Deku wore it for everything. Homework, short trips to the corner store, to sleep in...Katsuki always suspected that he wore it until he was forced to wash it and then probably immediately threw it back on when it was available again. It was well worn and well loved and--Katsuki never had anything like this. His mom would never let him keep something so worn out. He wondered just how many times Deku had put in on over the years to get such a baby soft feel to it. 

Katsuki caught himself rubbing the damn thing and stilled. He felt...not so volatile. Better.

Weird.

He shook himself back into the present and moved to strip out of the uniform but faltered, holding himself back after he saw his movement in the floor length mirror across the room. 

Katsuki had managed to avoid really seeing himself so far. Deliberately giving a wide birth to the reflective glass, but it couldn't avoid it forever. He moved closer to it, more details becoming clearer, those ridiculously green eyes tracking his every movement.  Katsuki was so fucked.

Ever since they'd come back from their internships Katsuki had found it almost impossible to be in the same room as Deku without his traitorous body committing mutiny in some way or another.

It had all started when he’d watched Deku use Full Cowl for the first time. How he'd flipped through the air effortlessly, mimicked Katsuki’s own movements. How some new and powerful aura radiated off of him. The raw energy Deku had exuded and with newfound confidence to match had made every hair on Katsuki’s body stand on in--and it'd had absolutely nothing to do with the electricity of the nerd's Quirk.

It had been like Katsuki was seeing a whole new Deku, and despite every alarm sounding off in his brain to ignore whatever fire was starting up within him, it was a losing battle from the very beginning.

Things continued to go downhill after seeing Deku in action again when they'd rescued Katsuki from the League.

Now every time those enormous, bright eyes graced Katsuki with their undivided attention his stomach would do flips, a ridiculous blush would creep to his cheeks. Whenever Deku smiled or laughed near him Katsuki suddenly wasn’t able to catch his breath.  If Deku just happen to brush up against him? Katsuki’d be a flustered mess for minutes afterwards.

Soft. He'd think to himself bitterly. So fucking weak.

Remembering their fight at Ground Beta was disastrous. Thinking of how it'd ended with him on top of Deku, heaving in breaths as Deku did the same underneath him. How their faces had been so close that Katsuki had almost made a fool of himself. 

Katsuki silently thanked the Symbol of Peace for the last minute interruption for the hundredth time.

He really is the number one hero, saving me from making an ass out of myself.

Katsuki couldn’t stand this new side of himself. Couldn’t stand Deku even more for being the reason behind its development. Not that Deku hadn't been something of interest to him before...he always had been...

But this was new. Uncharted. Visceral.

So, yeah, he’d been avoiding the mirror. Because he knew despite having teased Deku about taking advantage of their situation, he knew that he was much more likely to be the one guilty of it. 

Deku’s body at his disposal like this was a dangerous game. He’d been fighting with himself internally for weeks now in attempt to effectively squash these annoying ass feelings he had for the nerd, trying to chalk it up adrenaline, or maybe a brain tumor.

But now that he had Deku’s body to do with what he pleased...he found his control over the idea that he could push away how he felt about the idiot slipping quickly. 

Katsuki walked up to the mirror and unbuttoned the uniform shirt he wore with jittery fingers. He took a shaky breath as he shucked the shirt off his shoulders and dropped his pants to the floor, stepped out of them, now dressed only in Deku’s briefs.

Katsuki looked at the form in front of him curiously, moving closer to examine it more thoroughly. 

He ran a hand through Deku’s curls, marveling at the downy-like texture. It was a tangled mess due to Katsuki’s attempt at taming earlier, but it was still long and lush. He admired how bulky Deku had gotten in the past few months. Stronger legs, larger biceps, more toned core...

Why the fuck does he wear all this baggy shit if he’s working with all this?

Deku’s freckles ran down his torso as well, Katsuki hadn’t known that, they sprinkled down his throat and intermittently across his chest, too.

No way he had this many when we were kids...

Deku also had scars. So many scars. And they were everywhere. On his arms, his hands--Katsuki knew those. But had no idea about the others. The ones cutting deep across his shoulders, his back…

Katsuki struggled to tamp down the urge to want and murder whoever'd been responsible for them when he paused. Noticed a particularly nasty wound that looked to be much fresher than the rest. He felt his face scrunch, confused as he reached out to trail a finger across it. Then suddenly his stomach plummeted and he blanched at the realization that he was the reason behind this new angry looking mark now branding itself into Deku’s side. It was from last night. From the stupid, insecurity fueled fight he started. He-

It was then the rage he hadn’t been able to expel earlier roared up again with a vengeance.

Katsuki was pissed. At All Might for choosing Deku. At Deku for being so close to passing him already - for making him feel things he had no business feeling. But he was pissed at himself most of all. For hurting the little asshole, and not being able to sort through all the shit that was swarming through his brain right now, and-

Katsuki punched the mirror. 

His breathing was labored as he blinked through the haze of red that had stained his vision. He noticed his fragmented reflection in the pieces of glass still attached to the base of the mirror and he looked terrible. The rest of the glass were in shards of various sizes on the floor. Katsuki watched wet crimson drip unto them.

“Fuck,” he hissed, looking down to see his fist leaking. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He rushed to the bathroom to clean up the wound. He was washing the blood off the gash so he could wrap it when he looked up into another mirror, aggravated at the situation he had put himself in. He spoke to himself with a sneer. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he said, watching the way Deku’s mouth moved along with his words. His face drawn up in an expression Katsuki hardly ever saw it in, marring Deku's cherub features – disdain.

Katsuki didn't care for it at all, especially directed towards himself, so he smoothed out the face staring back at him. He went for a textbook Deku beam. Made sure he smiled wide enough for his eyes to crinkle at the edges, to tilt his head to the side in amusement. 

It was unnerving to Kastuki just how much he’d been observing Deku to be able to make it look so effortless, he was scaring himself with this shit.

But seeing his face up close now, the sunlight filtering in from the window hitting those jade eyes, causing them to sparkle, and his smile lighting up the room the rest of the way. Yeah, Katsuki was fucked, fucked, fucked!

He knew if he were in his own body right now it would no doubt be malfunctioning looking at the obnoxiously sweet little dweeb's grin. No doubt it'd be glitching after noticing the gleam in his eyes…

Katsuki stilled. Suddenly his mind was reeling as he watched the face go pallid. All he could hear anymore was the water trickling from the still running faucet and Deku's words from earlier - our bodies still respond to their normal triggers.

Each thought the popped into his head was worse than the last.  

He’s in my body.

He’s experiencing what my body reacts to.

My body reacts to him.

I’m in his body.

I’ve been acting like him…

Katsuki racked his brain to remember everything that had transpired so far that day. He groaned when he realized just how many instances Deku may have felt Katsuki’s body’s reactions.

You stared him down in the kitchen, that probably stirred something--those big ass eyes, dammit! Then you touched his face to get him focus, not good. Physical contact. NOT GOOD. What else Katsuki, what else…

Round Face.

“Fuck!” Katsuki yelled. “Oh, holy shit, there is no way in hell he saw ‘Deku’ and Ochacko together and didn’t notice me basically foaming at the mouth,” he mumbled to himself in a panic. He slammed the handle of the sink down to shut it off, paced the small length of the bathroom floor in nothing but underwear. His hand was still leaking.

Deku’s not an idiot - well not a complete idiot - he’s definitely noticed. But there’s no way he thinks I would be into him right? The guy practically bolts every time I come near him out of fear…yeah, yeah, I just need to not act like the nerd anymore, I can do that! I just can’t smile in this body around mine, or laugh…or look at him…or touch him…or be around anyone else...

Katsuki planted his hands on the edge of the counter and hung his head. Just sits in the inevitability of it all for long, depressing moment.

He eventually finds it within himself to pull his shit together enough to finish getting ready. He wrapped his hand, picked up the clothes he had selected, stuffed his legs into the shorts, drug the shirt down over his head, and flopped onto the bed. He starred at the ceiling, unseeing.

He had begun to absent mindedly rub on the hem of the unbelievably soft shirt again and the action seemed to calm him down ever so slightly. Feeling the almost smooth fabric between his fingers felt like a warm hug, a soft caress. Reassuring. Safe.  Within a couple minutes Katsuki had almost completely relaxed.

This is definitely Deku’s dumb ass reaction, what kind of man-child calms down by rubbing a fucking shirt?

But even as he thought it, Katsuki was plotting on how to steal the magical article of clothing for himself once they got back to their own bodies. Much as he hated to admit it, this was much more effective than wanting to destroy things.

No mess, no clean up, no screaming, no security check-ins... Just petting a ratty old shirt and he’d all but become one with the bed, completely zen.

He now understood why Deku fiddled with all of his clothes when he was anxious, or nervous, or upset, and he smiled at the idea of understanding some of Deku a little more; before cursing himself for caring about any of the little shit’s quirks at all. 

He sighed miserably at the conflicting battle going on between his head and his - ugh - heart. Gross.

“Fuck me.”

Chapter Text

Izuku was doubled over on the floor.

The cheap carpet of the dorm hallway was digging into his cheek. The sharp pain shooting through his body due to being hit in the groin elicited a strangled groan to drag from his lips.

He honestly had no idea how the situation had taken such a hard left. Granted the entire day had been one disaster after another, but here recently it had seemed to be going smoothly (or as smoothly as something like this could go)…that is, until - well, until Kacchan had woken up in Izuku's arms. 

Needless to say Kacchan was not all that excited about being carried princess style, if the position of agony Izuku was currently was any indication.

“Don’t Ever. Touch me again,” Kacchan spat from above him, before he turned and stalked off down the hallway. 

Kirishima burst back into the corridor from the stairwell then, with most of the class in toe. Once the he'd seen ‘Deku’ up and moving he let out a relieved sigh that turned into an almost hysterical laugh. “You’re alive! Thank God, I thought-” Kacchan shoved the entirety of one of his gnarled, scarred hands in Kirishima’s face and slammed him against the wall with a snarled, “Back the fuck up.”

The whole group could only gape at him slack jawed. Everyone was silent and kept their distance as they watched Kacchan continue on to Deku's room. He got there, opened the door and then immediately slammed it - hard.

“What the hell was that?” Kaminari screeched, the first to break the stunned silence. But before anyone could answer, Izuku groaned again.

The group’s attention was swiftly drawn towards him where he still struggled on the ground. The state of shock that had washed over everyone gathered in the hallway only intensified when they saw who they believed to be Bakugou writhing on the floor after an altercation with who they thought to be Midoriya.

The silence stretched on and Izuku wasn't sure his classmates eyes could go any wider. He began to squirm at the uncomfortable feeling of having so many sets of eyes on him, all visibly working to connect dots in an attempt to achieve some semblance of understanding for what was happening.

And not for the first time that day, Izuku felt tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip began to tremble at the effort to keep the tidal wave of emotions crashing against his restraint at bay.

Mineta noticed the slip up first. “Holy crap, Kirishima was telling the truth! He can cry! Look!”

And that’s all it took. Everything hit him all at once. The fact that he was not just in this ridiculous situation, but stuck in it with the one person who’d make it ten times more difficult. Not to mention the embarrassment, the full body soreness, their troubling talk with Aizawa earlier, the overwhelming amount of emotions he felt (both his and Kacchan’s body's), and finally, everyone gawking at him, waiting to see if Katsuki Bakugou was capable of showing any actual human emotion other than rage. It was too much.

The tears fell freely.

Once again, Kaminari is the one to break the silence. He brought his fingertips up to his temples as if the friction would allow his brain to fully comprehend what he was seeing. “What is happening?”

Izuku let loose a sob he couldn’t control from racking through him in response. This, in turn, forced the hallway to descend even further into chaos.

****

Everything had begun to take a turn for the worse when Kacchan had made his way back downstairs after changing. It had literally taken him forever, and when he did finally rejoin Izuku he had a soaked through gauze wrapped around one of his hands.

Naturally, Izuku had asked what had happened and had fully expected a sneer in return, or for Kacchan to bite his head off about it, but instead all he got was an indignant shrug. Perfect.

The rest of the day had gone that way. Kacchan hadn’t even batted an eye about what Izuku had eaten for lunch in his body, which Izuku thought for sure would start some sort of screaming match between the two of them after what had happened earlier that morning with the cereal. He also put up no fight for how they divvied up the chores. No threats about strangling Izuku with the vacuum cord or smacking him upside the head with a frying pan…

It was…weird.  Borderline alarming, how calm and distant Kacchan was being, reserved even.

Silence from Kacchan was considerably worse than shouting, Izuku decided. Shouting he was used to, what he expected. This silence felt like the calm before the storm, and it had Izuku all the way on edge. Or that’s what he figured this pent up feeling pulling all his muscles taut and driving him towards a migraine was? Izuku couldn’t quite figure out why Kacchan’s body was so high strung all of a sudden, but it didn’t do anything to calm his own nerves. 

Maybe Aizawa makes him nervous and he’s anxious about talking with him later?

Izuku continued pondering the foreign sensations he was living through until it came time for them to make their way to their meeting.

They’d finished cleaning for the day and were about to make their way over to Aizawa’s office, as instructed, and they were halfway there when Izuku had finally had enough of the silent treatment. “Ok. What's going on?”

Kacchan looked over at him, irritated. “What?”

“What’s wrong? You went from being in my face all morning to barely grunting at me all afternoon.”

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone, nerd,” he grumbled, bitterness coloring his tone. Izuku couldn’t help but notice that his anger wasn’t really directed towards him. It almost sounded like it could be self-depreciation, which made zero sense.

“I mean, yeah, but when have you ever listened to me?” Izuku asked, genuinely confused now.

“Maybe I just don’t feel like talkin’. Is that a problem? I thought you wanted me to leave you alone anyway." Was he pouting?

Izuku just rolled his eyes. “I just needed you off my back. I've never minded having you around, are you alright?”.

Despite Kacchan still stubbornly avoiding eye contact and trying his hardest to remain aloof, he noticed Kacchan’s ears perk at his choice of words. Odd.

“If you don’t want to talk that's fine. Just please keep in mind that we are still supposed to be acting like one another and it’s literally Aizawa’s job to scrutinize us, so if anyone’s going to be able to tell something is off it’d be him.” Izuku still wasn't sure what had caused this whole mess, but he figured it was the result of a mistake on both their parts. They couldn't afford to be caught up in something else. They'd already been at the center of every major crisis since arriving at UA - Aizawa would kill them. They could figure this out on their own, he was sure of it. They just needed to pass as one another until then. 

“I’m not an idiot,” was Kacchan's only response and they fell back into a tense silence the rest of the short trip to their teacher's office.

Once they reached their destination, they noticed the door was already ajar. Izuku peeked his head inside and saw Aizawa facing away from them, towards the large window on the opposite side of the room from where the last of the sun’s rays were streaming in.

It looked like he was grading papers, so Izuku took the opportunity to face Kacchan. “Alright, so how about neither of us says anything until he tells us what he’s called us in for, that way – hey,” he waved his hand in Kacchan's face. "Can you maybe actually look at me? We need to think this through.” Kacchan was literally looking anywhere but at Izuku and it was really starting to irritate him.

I know he’s pissed and would rather be in this situation with, most likely, anyone else but the only way we're going to get through this is together!

Izuku would never say this out loud, he knew Kacchan would lose it if Izuku suggested he needed help with anything, let alone help from the likes of Deku himself. 

Kacchan was still ignoring him though, now having moved on to focusing on Izuku’s signature red sneakers on his feet.

Any other day Izuku would've had the patience to deal with his strange behavior, but today was not any other day, and Izuku was tired of whatever childish game Kacchan was playing. So he grabbed Kacchan’s cheeks roughly with one hand and forced him to look him in the eye for the first time in hours.

Kacchan’s now emerald eyes widened in shock, his cheeks flushed, and his breath hitched at the unexpected physical contact. At the same time Izuku felt the strangest feeling wash over him as he looked into sparkling green. 

It kind of felt like relief. Like having those large eyes grace him with their attention made the tension he’d felt in Kacchan's body all day release. 

Izuku (or maybe it was Kacchan's body, he couldn't be sure) had been pissed that Kacchan had been avoiding him all day, his gaze, his conversation, but now that their eyes were locked there was this…excitement? No, nervousness? Wait, anxiety? Izuku couldn't pin it down, because just like with any of Kacchan’s body’s reactions it was hard to identify exactly what he was experiencing. Its like he was missing context within every interaction they had. It was maddening.

But he did understand the current tingle that shot up his spine at the feeling of those soft freckled cheeks under his fingertips. Eager.  He was eager to feel more, he felt Kacchan’s body urging him to touch more of the boy in front of him. His neck, his chest, arms, hair--to see if everything was as soft as his face, as soft as it looked. A fleeting image of green and blond colliding in a heated blur flared bright in his mind and Izuku was lost.

What the hell is this?

“Ummm…” Izuku’s voice had turned husky and he didn’t understand why, his breaths coming out short, almost panting.

Izuku couldn’t help but notice that Kacchan had dropped his gaze to Izuku’s mouth when he uttered the unintelligent line, seemingly also affected by the trance Izuku had found himself trapped in.

But as soon as Kacchan had looked back up to see Izuku’s cheeks now stained pink and felt Izuku's fingers now beginning to caress his face softly on their own accord, Kacchan's eyes had instantly turned steely, as if he’d just remembered something unpleasant. He smacked Izuku’s hands off of him. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled, but it came out strained, and it sounded like he was…worried? Scared? No that couldn’t be right.

Izuku blinked out of his daze as soon as Kacchan’s eyes had lost their glimmer and had turned to something dark, shuttered. And with the spell broken for both of them Kacchan quickly went back to glaring at the ground.

Izuku furrowed his brows. “I wouldn’t have to if you just listened to me,” he hissed, his irritation returning.

“I am listening, dumbass,” he spat.

“Then answer me!”

“Just - get out of my face-” 

“Are you two just going to bicker outside of my office all night or are you going to come in?” Aizawa’s deadpan voice drifted into the hallway and cut off their squabbling.

They glared at each other for a moment, the intensity of Kacchan’s stare stirring those foreign feelings in Izuku yet again, before Kacchan shoved past him and into the small office space.

“Sit down,” Aizawa ordered.

They did. Each taking up one of the two chair in front of his desk. The light of the setting sun coming in from the back of the room was now almost completely shrouding Aizawa, and most of the room, in deep shadows, making him look even more intimidating than normal as those severe, onyx eyes looked them over.

The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time before Aizawa broke it. “So, how far along are you with this,” he asked, gesturing lazily at the both of them.

They only stared at their teacher in front of them in response.

“Speak,” Aizawa said in exasperation. "Where are you at with this?”

Izuku goes first. “What the f-fuck are you talking about?” he tried, he really did, but his voice had cracked despite his best effort.

Aizawa quirked an unimpressed brow and Izuku could feel Kacchan glaring daggers off to the side of him, but he dared not look to confirm.

“We don’t understand the question, sir,” Kacchan spat out. Izuku could tell Kacchan's attention was still on him because the words were quite loud in Izuku's ear. His irritation was not at all well contained, so he effectively failed to sound like Izuku in the slightest.

Wow. Three whole minutes. That’s how long we can pretend to be one another in front of him. Perfect.

“Christ, you two are awful at this,” Aizawa sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “I already know you aren’t yourselves, so please spare me this sad charade. It’s painful.”

Both of the them sat up straighter. “You know?” they asked in tandem.

Aizawa waved off the question and stated his again. He moved around the desk to stroll around the room. “It’s only been less than a day, so, what? All you know is that you aren’t in your own body and what happens if you try to tell someone, right?” he asked, now behind the two of them after circling the room as he spoke.

The pair turned in their seats to stare up at Aizawa, their eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Wait, huh? What happens when we try to tell someone?” Izuku asked.

Aizawa flicked his eyes between the two of them, perplexed. “You haven’t tried to tell anyone yet?”

“Fuck no, like I’d want anyone to know I’m in this sad ass body. What a joke,” Kacchan says affronted, as if it were obvious.

Aizawa hit him in the back of the head. “Watch your mouth,” he ordered as he came to stand in from of the them now.

Izuku glared at Kacchan, but turned sheepish when he looked at Aizawa again. "We...didn't know you knew. We were trying to stay out of trouble and figure it out on our own, but..." he trailed off, not sure how to finish that though.

Aizawa doesn't look all that happy to hear his student's had attempted to deceive him, but if he was angry about it he didn't say so. He just continued on with their original conversation. “So you haven’t spoken to anyone about this yet. Good. I’d keep it that way if I were you. Makes life a lot easier,” he warned.

Kacchan is still rubbing the back of his head when he asked, “What kind of ominous shit is that?” Which earned him a heated glare from Aizawa due to his choice of words. “Why can’t other people know? I mean don’t get me wrong, I don’t want them to, but I’d be willing to tell the police if they might have an antidote or something for whatever dumbass Quirk is responsible for this bullshit,” he grumbled crossing his arms.

“Oh, so you know it’s the result of a Quirk?” he raised his brows.

“What the fuck else would it be?” Kacchan asked like Aizawa had just asked the dumbest question he'd ever heard.

“You lookin to get a longer sentence scrubbing toilets?" Aizawa asked. "Mind your teacher and your mouth or we'll bust out the muzzle again."

Kacchan was no doubt about to throw more obscenities his way when Izuku cut in. “You’re just going to have to let that go. It’s not personal, he’s just the worst,” he stated with a shrug.

Kacchan gave a smug smile. “Exactly. The shitnerd gets it.”

Izuku shot him a look, and cut off the oncoming lecture Aizawa looked like he was about to give. “I think we also know that we didn’t switch bodies. Not really anyway? More like conciseness-swapping. Maybe? Like, we can still feel how the other’s body reacts to their normal stimuli - if that makes sense?”

Aizawa looked at him blankly.

“Sir?” Izuku asked after a moment.

“Sorry. It’s just—you two are already so much further along than we were, it’s kind of amazing,” he answered wryly, looking distant like he was caught up in some distant memory.

Izuku choked out a strangled “You’ve gone through this?” at the same time Kacchan screeched “WE?”

Kacchan was up on his feet in an instant. “Alright, that’s it.  What the hell do you know? What is this? Who did it? I’m gonna murder-"

“Calm down, Sparky,” Aizawa said flatly, completely unaffected by the outburst. “I’ll explain everything in time, but some things you literally have to figure out on your own though, like-”

Kacchan cut in again. “The only thing I care about is how to end this, so if you aren’t tellin’ me how to do that then I’m going to go with my original idea to see if the police can do anything-”

“I’m telling you, you don’t wanna do that,” Aizawa advised cooly, irritation flaring in his eyes.

“Yeah? And why the hell not? You tell us to do something with no explanation and expect us, of all people, to just follow suit?” He said gesturing to himself and Izuku.

Izuku has to nod his head in reluctant agreement at Kacchan's words, the pair had never been keen on following directions.

“Fine,” Aizawa conceited, he crossed his arms. "Give it a try, hot shot, tell me you aren’t you.”

“Fine,” Kacchan repeated haughtily.

Izuku could feel something bad was about to happen. “Um…Kacchan, maybe -”

“Do you want to be out of this situation, or not?” he snapped back at Izuku before squaring his shoulders and looking Aizawa in the eye.

“Go on,” Aizawa challenged, a knowing look in his eyes as he shook his head in disappointment.

Kacchan smiled wickedly and started talking. “I’m not Deku, I’m-”

Izuku watched as Kacchan’s whole body froze, face went slack, eyes rolled to the back of his head, and him drop to the floor in a heap. There was no grace in way in which he had fallen. He had hit the ground hard, his limbs sprawled out every which way.

Aizawa only gave his head another despondent shake in response.

“What happened?” Izuku panicked. He quickly moved to Kacchan's concerningly still body to check for signs of life.

“He’s fine,” Aizawa answered blandly, kicking at Kacchan's limp foot. “Gonna wake up with one hell of a migraine though. Last ‘im for days,” he chuckled, and Izuku could only stare up at his instructor somewhat horrified.

“You let him do that? Why? How long is he going to be out?” Izuku's hands were still flitting frantically around the body before him. What was he supposed to do?

“Relax kid, I’m his teacher, trust me. This is just how it goes with Bakugo. He doesn’t listen, so I always have to make sure he learns the hard way,” he stated with a shrug. "He’ll come to soon, don’t worry. Pick him up, we’re going for a walk.”

Aizawa swung the office door open and walked out, which left Izuku to scramble to scoop Kacchan up and race to keep up.

“Where are we going?” Izuku asked.

“I’m just making sure you two actually make it back to the dorms. The last time I saw you two together after dark you’d destroyed half of Ground Beta,” he said with a pointed side eye.

Izuku winced an chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, r-right. Ha. Sorry about that,” he apologized.

Aizawa sighed heavily. “You two…have a lot going on. And I’m not going to sit here and try to pretend like I understand the half of it, but something like last night was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad neither of you got seriously injured. We all have high hopes for the both of you, it would’ve been a waste to see your careers cut short by some petty brawl.”

Izuku blinked at him, stunned. “I-” He took a steadying breath. "You’re right. Our past is…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish. He looked at his own unconscious body in his arms and deflated a bit. "We’re just never on the same page,” he decided quietly.

Aizawa simply nodded at that. “And that brings us to what all this is about,” he faced Izuku then, the last bit of daylight hitting his face. "This whole ‘being each other’ thing, it’s meant to be a lesson,” he insisted, and raised his eyebrows in a way that made it seem Izuku should get whatever it is he's talking about.

“I don’t understand,” Izuku finally answered when Aizawa didn't take it upon himself to elaborate.

Aizawa let out another hefty sigh. “I figured you wouldn’t, though I guess Nezu did, too. I suppose that’s why he enlisted us in helping you,” he laughed humorlessly, shook his head.

“Wait. Nezu knows, too?”

“He’s the one who contacted the man with the Quirk responsible for all this,” Aizawa informs him. He gestured to Izuku and Kacchan and his mouth dropped in a pinched frown.

“Now I’m really confused,” Izuku says. "You know who he is?”

“No,” Aizawa growled, and Izuku was startled by the quick change in his demeanor. “But that’s probably for the best. It’s been a decade and I still want to thrott-” he cut himself off and waved his hand to end that line of thinking. Calmed himself down so quickly Izuku wanted to ask if he could give Kacchan pointers.

“That’s not important," he ran a hand through his hair. Izuku thought he looked more strung out than usual, and that was saying something. "The point is: this is supposed to be a learning experience. A ‘walk-a-mile-in-their-shoes’ type deal. Nezu hopes that having you two see the world through one another’s eyes will allow you to work through this continuous head butting phase you’re going through. I told him it was a terrible idea, that it was dangerous, and reckless, and-”

“Oh, right, because you’ve gone through this!" Izuku remembered his words from earlier. "Why, though? Ooh, with who? For how long?”

“Breathe,” Aizawa instructed him curtly. “I guess you’ll know soon enough. And he will be the one you’re paired up with, so. Yeah. I went through this mess with Yamada forever ago. God, we were such idiots back then,” he smiled almost fondly at the memory but it was short lived before he turned serious again. "You’ll be meeting up with him soon.”

“Mic! And you? But you’re such good friends. Why would they make you do something like this?"

Aizawa snorted. “We hated each other our first couple years here. It was almost as bad as you and Bakugou, if you can believe it.”

Izuku couldn't. He shook his head and whispered in awe, "No way..."

“Yup,” he assured. That seemed to be the end of his reminiscing, much to Izuku’s displeasure.

They arrived at the dorms then, and Aizawa left him with a few parting words. “I’ll tell you something I needed to hear when I went through this. Embracing it is the easiest way to end it. The whole Quirk seems to work around the idea that once the two affected understand the other’s point of view they’re worthy of going back to their own body. It took me and Yamada way too long to figure that out, but like I said, you two are moving at a much faster pace." He knocked Izuku's shoulder when he didn't get an immediate response. "Which is good. Don't look so terrified, you'll be fine,” Aizawa chuckled.

Izuku nodded and tried to commit the words to memory so he could relay them to Kacchan later.

He’s going to hate this.

“Be sure to keep him away from people when he comes to. That migraine is going to put him in a worse mood than usual. No one needs to be around for that,” he stated solemnly. "Also you two will still be expected to finish out your punishment, but after that you’ll meet up with us. Like I said, you’ll be with Mic and this idiot will be with me,” he said nodding a Kacchan. 

He was about to walk off when he stopped and looked over his shoulder, concerned. He gave one last bit of advice. “Oh, and good luck with the dreams. I have nothing to help prepare you for those,” he said seriously. A shudder seemed to run through him at some memory he was having and then he disappeared into the shadows before Izuku could ask what that even meant.

Fantastic.

He frowned down at Kacchan in his arms. It was unsettling looking down at himself like this. His freckles spreading across his closed eyelids, soft mouth parted with tiny puffs of air coming out, hair a mess on his head, begging to be swept back and out of his face.

Without any say of his own, his fingers raised to move the curly bangs from their place just below Kacchan's eyebrows and that sensation from earlier ran through Izuku again. The eagerness. His hand twitched to run all the way through his incredibly soft hair, down his neck, across his shoulders-

Izuku snapped his hand away from where he'd been cupping Kacchan's cheek to back behind his shoulder again instantly. This was all way too unnatural for him, not only was he feeling this way while touching himself, he also couldn’t help but notice Kacchan’s body reacting to the simple contact. 

His heart rate had risen considerably, mouth had gone a bit dry, breathing shallow. Izuku only felt that way in his own body when he was either nervous before a battle or nervous around a crush…

Izuku laughed at himself.

What do you think this is? Why would Katsuki Bakugo, your childhood frienemie turned rival, of all people be interested in you? Get a grip.

That would be insane. But Izuku still couldn’t shake the signals Kacchan’s body was giving him as he walked with him in his arms, forearms tucked under his knees and shoulders, his head lolling on Izuku's chest. 

Maybe he was just reading too much into things. He decided that was most likely the case when he finally reached Kacchan’s room. He turned the handle and walked in before he realized Kacchan was now supposed to be in Izuku’s room instead due to the predicament they were in. Apparently thanks to some nameless, on call, Freaky Friday man. 

He huffed out a frustrated breath as he hefted Kacchan up again and made his way back out into the hall, where he promptly ran into Kirishima.

“Oh, hey bro! I was just coming to see—” he looked down and saw the limp body in Izuku’s arms, the quick readjustment he'd done in the room had caused Kacchan’s head to dangle in a concerning way. Kirishima’s eyes bulged. “Holy shit, did you kill him?!” He rushed over to tap Kacchan’s cheeks, but there was no response, he was out cold. “Fuck! I know you hate him, dude, but what the hell?! Stay here, we can fix this!”

“What? No! Kirishima wait-” Izuku frantically tried to explain the situation, but Kirishima was already down the hall screaming for help and as he exited through the stair well door, it closed with a heavy slam.

“Oh God,” Izuku fretted, moving quickly to drop Kacchan off before he was woken up by half the class, remembering Aizawa’s last few words about how no one needed to see an even angrier Kacchan, especially in the form of one Izuku Midoriya.

But between the jostling from Izuku’s quickening pace, the loud door slam, and Kirishima’s hits to the face, Kacchan seemed to finally be coming around.

“What the fuck,” he murmured groggily, then groaned in pain loudly. He moved to sit up and unknowingly brushed up against Izuku’s groin.

At the same time Izuku let out a whimper at the overstimulating feeling of having so many points of contact where Kacchan was pressed tight against him. Kacchan's eyes shot open.

He took stock of the situation quickly. Assessed that he was in a compromising position and how he was squirming against parts he shouldn’t be. His eyes jumped to Izuku’s wide alarmed ones with a look a matching distress. 

Kacchan snarled and shoved out of Izuku's hold, stumbled to balance himself, and then fixed his gaze back on Izuku. His eyes moved so quickly Izuku had almost missed it, but for a brief second they had landed on Izuku’s shorts and then a truly horrified look had played across Kacchan’s features, had his eyes going wide and cheeks tinging red.

He's embarrassed?

Without thinking Izuku moved to follow his gaze, but before he could see what the big shock was Kacchan lunged and hit Izuku in the testicles so hard he'd immediately crumpled to the floor, the wind being knocked out of him instantaneously.

He was vaguely aware of Kacchan saying something to him afterwards, and of the many bodies joining them in the hallway, but it wasn’t until Kacchan had slammed his room door that Izuku had fully come back around from the brutal attack, catching the attention of his classmates.

And that’s how he had found himself in the situation he was in currently. Sitting in the middle of the hall, crying, balls on fire, and the thunderous noise of his peers spiraling engulfing him.

Before things could get any worse, if that were even possible, Izuku shot to his feet and rushed back to Kacchan’s room, ignoring all the calls of his classmates. He closed and locked the door before he slid down on it, breath shaky, hands trembling from the roller coaster of emotions he had just hopped off of.

Kaminari's words from earlier kept looping in his head: What the hell was happening?

Chapter Text

The door slammed behind Katsuki and he came to an abrupt stop to stand frozen in center of Deku's cluttered room. Fuck, his hands were shaking.

A boner.

A fucking BONER?!

“Shit!” Katsuki paced the small space, running his hands through unruly green curls. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and flopped back exasperated, head screaming at him, pounding from who the who knew what.

What the shit just happened?

All he could remember was standing toe-to-toe with Aizawa and the next thing he knew he was wrapped up in Deku’s arms. Which is the complete opposite route of the avoid-Deku-at-all-costs, foolproof plan he’d decided on. Because not only had physical contact been made—no, ok, crotch contact had been made for fuck’s sake.

Katsuki rubbed his eyes harshly and groaned, toeing off his shoes before he brought his feet up on the bed to properly curl in on himself.

The only saving grace had been that he was able to neutralize the growing interest in Deku's pants before he had noticed, but shit, even that had been a close call. 

Deku was less than a second away from seeing just exactly how Katsuki...felt about him, so naturally he had to sack-tap. What else is a guy expected to do? Desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was likely all for nothing anyway. Surely Deku had felt something already when he’d grabbed Katsuki’s face earlier when they'd been outside of Aizawa's office (which had also gone against the plan). Because Katsuki knows he sure as hell felt something shoot up his spine at the feeling of that large, calloused hand gripping his face. But he literally could not focus on whatever that sudden spark had been because he was freaking out thinking about what Deku was experiencing. Thank God Aizawa had cut in. 

Katsuki sighed. The day had been long and he was exhausted. And he knew the situation was going to get so much worse before it got better. So, with that happy thought, and the angry pounding of his pulse still radiating from behind his eyes, he decided to just let sleep take him away from the hell that was living life through Deku. He'd deal with the fallout of whatever this day had been later.

****

Surprising the fallout he was expecting never seemed to come. The next two days passed without incident.

For the most part, anyway. Having to pretend to be ok with the never ending texts and drop-ins from Deku’s annoying ass friends was still far from ideal. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Midoriya?” 

“Is Bakugou still bothering you?”

“When do you get to come back to class?”

“We miss seeing you around!”

It took everything in Katsuki not to break character. Never in his life had he been forced to sit back and endure so much rambling. And he was expected to endure it with a smile no less.

But aside from trying to give them the slip almost constantly, things had been normal…or as normal as things could be, he supposed. 

He still avoided Deku. Continued to clean the surprisingly disgusting dorms (why there was a fine layer of Cheeto dust on every possible surface he's still trying to understand); made a list of acceptable meals for Deku (as well as other do's and don't's while in his body) and slid it under his door (he wasn’t falling behind in his regimen due to whatever stupid punishment this was); and kept to himself. 

Anything involving the bathroom was just embarrassing. The first shower he had taken left him flushed all the way down to his toes. The fully naked body of his current every desire paired with him running his hands all over it, watching soap and water drip off of himself brought forth…rather conflicting emotions. He tried not to think about it too hard, so as not to make his head hurt any more than it already did. Since it was still inexplicably ringing from the night with Aizawa.

But even the cringey bathroom bits Katsuki would consider normal under the current circumstances. The only abnormal thing that continued nagging at him were the dreams. 

Now, Katsuki had experienced some fucking strange dreams before, but blurring through different dream-scapes while seeing dozens of warped sleep worlds through Deku's pov was something altogether uncanny.

Every night had been one memory of Deku’s after another, all set in different times and places. The only recurring factor being that Katuski was present in all of them.

The first night it had started out with them being young, four or five probably.

He watched his younger self, wet and dripping, eyebrows scrunched together and lip curled over missing baby teeth in disgust as he sat in the river looking up at Deku’s outstretched hand. And this time instead of feeling anger rise in him, he felt the pang of hurt that shot through Deku's chest when he watched his younger self smack the hand away. Deku’s feelings were crushed. 

That night he had also seen the back of his younger self as Deku scrambled to keep up. Felt tears run down Deku's face as he called out Kacchan pleading for him to wait. It was…unnerving being on the other end. Instead of feeling like the leader he was, always had been, forever ahead of Deku - he felt what the Deku had. Like he was losing ground between his childhood friend, failing to keep his stride, unimportant and alone.

Then it had switched to the middle school years where there was a painful montage of Katsuki making Deku’s life unbearable. He saw what Deku saw: Katsuki smug and distant, allowing his stupid posse to do with Deku as they pleased, and Katsuki felt the disappointment Deku had felt. Defeated and out of ideas on how to fix things between them, confused as to where things had gone wrong.

Finally, this past night it had focused solely on their time here at UA, more recent memories. And each one during this time period just showed Katsuki with an anger that was more explosive than all the other memories combined. Each one during their short time in high school together showed him pissed and snarling, declaring Deku as useless, or demanding to know who the hell Deku thought he was for hiding his Quirk for so long. He felt all the anxiety that flooded Deku's system every time Katsuki came into the room, looked his way, picked a fight, growled his name, put him down.

The whole ordeal was surreal, seeing all these moments through Deku’s eyes rather than his own. Experiencing all the emotions that Deku had gone through instead of his own was…something Katsuki had not been prepared for.

Katsuki thought about the past few night’s memories and couldn’t help the guilt that seemed to wash over him, but he tried not to focus on it too much as he got ready for class. 

Technically he was still on house arrest but now being in Deku’s body he was free a day early, thank fuck. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could be cooped up in the place trying to avoid the only other person occupying it all day.

He sat through class but barely heard what Aizawa was lecturing about. His mind continuously drifting back to the dreams - they felt important, but Katsuki didn't understand why. 

He knew they were a part of the past and that he and Deku had decidedly become rivals now, on better ground, but he still couldn’t help thinking about all the shit he’d put the him through. Each dream he was a part of was a memory of Deku’s that held a lot of pain, panic, and fear. 

It was frustrating. Because Katuski understood his frequent outbursts and flare ups of his past self, but Deku didn’t.

Deku didn’t know Katsuki had been suppressing feelings for him since grade school. Of course Katsuki hadn’t know what they had meant that early on either, only that they made him nervous, and nervousness was not a pathetic feeling Katsuki intended to put up with. So, naturally, he did everything in his power to make sure that feeling never showed itself again. 

The fact that effectively shoving that emotion aside had involved him pushing Deku away as well isn’t something Katsuki is even sure he recognized consciously…until now. He couldn’t help feeling like an asshole for putting Deku through what he had over the years, but at the same time he was kind of in awe at just how strong willed Deku had been through it all. Katsuki had shot him down in every way imaginable and at every chance he could over the past decade, and Deku was still excelling and busting his ass to prove himself despite it all. He had to give the nerd props. 

Katsuki hadn’t even noticed the class had cleared out until Aizawa dropped down at the desk in front of him with a sigh, rolled his head over towards him, and gave him a bored once over. He looked about as exhausted as Katsuki felt. 

"Ok, kid, you're with me. I know Midoriya is still serving out your punishment, but we need to get both of you back into your training cycle. He’ll be with Mic. We’ll come together later so you two can spar. You both need to continue progressing, but I don’t think it’s safe to let you in with the rest of the class without understanding each other’s Quirks first.”

Katsuki scoffed. “Will we really be progressing if we're sparring with Quirks we’ve never used before? It’ll be like starting from square one all over again."

Aizawa looked amused all of a sudden and stood, gave him a pitying look. “I already knew Mic had the easier student, but after that pathetic comment I’m positive we have our work cut out for us,” he shook his head in disbelief and moved towards the door.

“What the fuck is that supposed to even mean?”

“I know you usually have your head up your ass, but I didn’t think it was that far up there. Do you seriously think Midoriya will be starting from square one with your Quirk? Have you seen the way he analyzes the rest of his classmates? He has literal books on everyone’s Quirks and he’s known them less than a year. I can only imagine how much he’s got on the kid he’s known since diapers.”

That bit of logic was sound enough to make Katsuki's hackles rise in defense. “So just because he's a fanboy he’s going to know how to handle my Quirk, no problem?” 

“I’m almost positive that you have no idea how Midoriya’s Quirk works, and while he’s continuing your training for you - you’ll be the one starting him off from the very beginning again,” he raised his brows in and obvious challenge. “Honestly, how do you think you’re going to do this afternoon?”

Katsuki stood, splayed his hands across the desk, and glared daggers at the sleep deprived wreck in front of him. “I think I'm going to fucking crush this just like i do everything else, old man. Any other stupid questions?”

He had the nerve to laugh. “You really think you can do this, huh? Midoriya couldn’t even use his Quirk without breaking something until a few weeks ago.”

“Do I look like that fucking idiot?” Katsuki growled back. Aizawa gave him another once over with that annoying bemused little smirk he'd been wearing the whole conversation that Katsuki wanted to slap off his face growing wider, and before he could even open his mouth to respond Katsuki was cutting in. "Don't! Don't fucking say anything. I heard it right after I said it. I'm leaving. Fuck you." He hastily grabbed all his shit and made for a direct exit.

“Ground Beta. One hour. Deku’s uniform will be in the locker room waiting for you. Try to keep your delusions alive til then, yeah?” 

Katsuki flipped him off over his shoulder and slammed the door.

****

Katsuki looked in the mirror in disgust.

Who the fuck has bunny ears on their costume? 

He wasn’t a fan of how modest Deku's suit was either. Once the entire outfit was on the only sliver of skin showing was the bit around his eyes. Not only did it leave a ton to the imagination but it was also restricting as hell. Katsuki’s own costume at the very least allowed him full range of motion for his arms.

Irritated, Katsuki pushed through the locker room doors to go meet up with Aizawa. He found him standing in an intersection towards the center of the fake cityscape, looking bored with his hands in his pockets, waiting.

“Alright, we doing this or what?” Katsuki asked as he began his stretching routine.

“Ready when you are,” is the only response he gets.

He eyed the relaxed stance Aizawa was in and the lack of preparation, but continued to warm himself up regardless. Asshole thinks he can't do this. What the fuck ever.

Going through his warm up was route at this point, but it was taking longer than normal. He couldn't help but notice how much stiffer Deku's body was than his own, it being obvious that he hadn’t gone through proper training techniques since age four like Katsuki had. 

No wonder the loser couldn’t keep himself from falling apart constantly, he can barely control a muscle from tearing at this point. 

He rolled his eyes and pushed through the burn of some of the harder extensions, taking his time before finally facing Aizawa and quirking a brow in way of stating that he was ready to begin.

“Alright, come at me,” Aizawa instructed blandly.

“What?”

Aizawa rubbed a heavy hand down his face and then through his hair and spoke like what he was saying was beyond obvious and shouldn't have to be explained. "Midoriya doesn’t have a Quirk that can just be shown off like you do, the applications of it can only be seen when he’s in action, so. Come at me."

Katsuki grimaced. That was...true. And a decent enough place to start when thinking of how to bring Deku's Quirk forth.

He concentrated hard simply on activation. When Katsuku used his own Quirk it just came. Automatically. It was always there, thrumming under his skin and ready to use at a moment's notice. Deku’s almost felt like it didn’t exist. He couldn’t feel it ready to rush out of him like he did with his own, so how did the nerd start?

He thought back to all the times he’d seen Deku in battle, strained his memory to come up with something useful. Maybe—

“What’s the matter, Sparky? Thought you had this in the bag,” Aizawa called from his same spot in the middle of the four way stop. He was inspecting his capture weapon, not even looking at Katsuki as he spoke. 

“Shut up,” Katsuki snarled. "I'm trying to focus."

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find it again but...nothing.

Fuck, seriously, how does he do this?

Katuski shook out his body and took a handful of deep, meditative breathes in attempt to re-center himself. He decided to focus on the green lightning he always saw flying around Deku once he had finally managed to find full body control of his Quirk. That stirred something up, he could feel something coming to life within him, so he clung to it. He imagined the lighting coming from the sky, striking him where he stood and spreading through his limbs, coursing through his veins and -

One for All crashed over him like a tidal wave with no more warning than a tiny buzz and a full body rush of goosebumps. It almost overtook him completely with how quickly it appeared.

He imagined it would be powerful, it was All Might’s after all, but the sheer force of it was instantly overwhelming.

It literally felt like his blood was searing through his skin. Like his body was ready to explode with the effort of keeping the Quirk contained. Like it would take no effort at all for this power to completely consume him, bring him to his knees, rip him apart from the inside out.

Is this what it felt like every time he used it? Shit.

He snapped his eyes open and his breathing was strained, whole body shaking, sweat rolling down his back as he locked eyes with Aizawa.

The pro was staring at him now with interest, looked slightly impressed even. He crouched to a loose defensive stance and brought his goggles down over his eyes. 

Katsuki knew he needed to start the match but at this point he wasn’t sure if he could even move, much less fight. It was taking everything in him to just to stay upright.

He knew the only reason he hadn’t combusted on the spot was because Deku had already trained his body to expect this intense backlash of the Quirk, it was used to this great deal of stress, but Katsuki certainly wasn’t and as much as this pissed him off he had no choice. He deactivated the Quirk.

He dropped to all fours he gasped for oxygen. His vision blurred dangerously out of focus as he tried to find Aizawa again through the swirling colors of the landscape around them. 

“Funny. This isn't what I imagined a ‘crushing it’ looking like,” Aizawa drawled coming to stoop down next to him.

“Fuck…you…” Katsuki rasped out.

“Go again,” Aizawa commanded. Unimpressed with Katsuki's struggles to stay lucid. “Midoriya does this dozens of times a day. His body can handle it. It’s just a matter of if you can,” he challenged.

“That shit...was insane…I don’t know how he’s not dead yet,” Katsuki croaked out as he tripped and wavered to stand back up.

“Believe me, he’s had some close calls,” Aizawa replied, exasperated. “But I didn’t take you for a quitter, Bakugou. You givin’ up already?”

Katsuki snarled at the insult.

If that shitty nerd can do, I sure as hell can.

So he found the strength to try again. And he failed again.

And again…and again.

Each time he concentrated on reigning One for All in just a little bit more. But not once in the entire hour they’d been at it had he been able to attack. Eventually he’d been able to move, but not with any speed or urgency worth mentioning.

“Well you’ve successfully wasted an hour of my life,” Aizawa sighed, handing him a bottle of water. Katsuki didn't even bother reaching for, so Aizawa dropped it unceremoniously on his chest. Dick. “And didn’t prepare yourself in any way to spar with Midoriya in,” he checked his watch. “Ah, five minutes. Congratulations.”

Katuski wasn’t even fully coherent as he laid starfished out on the ground, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.

He’d never utterly failed at something so miserably in his life, didn’t quite know how to process it.

Is this what being a loser feels like? No wonder all the extras in class are so caught up on being best fucking friends, feeling this low calls for reassurance and coddling. I think I finally understand why this nerd cries so much…huh.

“WE HAVE ARRIVED!!” Present Mic’s obnoxious voice cut through Katsuki’s thoughts, forced his eyes open. He hadn't even realized he'd drifted off.

Aizawa helped to heft Katsuki up and allowed him to lean against him with all his body weight.

“We may need a minute. He wasn’t prepared for the intensity of your Quirk,” Aizawa explained as he looked down at the half dead boy leaning into him like he was disappointed, but not at all surprised.

Katsuki heard Deku's chuckle. “Not as easy as it looks, huh, Kacchan?”

“Shut up you damn…ner-” Katsuki’s mouth stopped working when he saw his own body come into view. 

Katsuki felt Deku’s body go into a momentary state of shock. It forced him to snap his gaze down so he could only see the dark army boots Deku had on.

What the fuck?

It took all of the strength still left in Katsuki to force his gaze to travel back up to see all of Deku, but when he finally managed it his shitty fucking day did a complete one-eighty.

As soon as he locked on to those blood-red eyes, stark against the dark mask framing them, a flood gate opened. Something in Deku that had been knocking ever since Katsuki had made his way into this scrawny ass body had finally bust loose after seeing himself in his hero costume.

Where just a few moments ago he couldn’t look past Deku’s shoes, now having forced past that, he found his eyes roaming. Everywhere.

Deku’s body's gaze fleeted around Katsuki’s features of their own accord. Followed a bead of sweat from his brow, over his defined jawline, down past the long expanse of his neck, dropping to the exposed skin of his clavicle. Watched how the roll of his biceps pulled his tanned skin taut as he crossed his toned arms. Zoomed in on the sharp, cocky smile that brought a dangerous glint to that already hazardous stare. 

None of this was a shock to Katsuki, he saw how people stared, he understood he was attractive.

What brought him out of the exhausted daze he had been in was the languid pooling in his gut, the hitched breathing, the hairs on his arms standing on end…a feeling he understood all too well.

Me in a costume does things to Deku…

Katsuki pushed off of Aizawa with a newfound strength. 

Sure these past few days had been the worst. Honestly, he felt like he was losing at every turn. But now? Oh ho ho, now? Things were looking up.

Apparently the nerd seemed to have a better handle of himself when Katsuki was just existing within his everyday life. But once he switched over to Ground Zero, Deku's guard on his feelings fell to the wayside, hormones raged on sight of him in his skin tight top and support gear.

Katsuki felt like smacking himself. The signs had been there the whole time. How Deku’s body reacted the same way it did around Katsuki's body as it did around Ochacko, the spark that went through him when Deku had gripped his face with Katsuki's hand, his eyes falling to Deku’s mouth constantly, Deku calling him pretty for fuck’s sake - it was clear as fucking day! 

Deku wants me, too.

Katsuki made his way to come toe-to-toe with Deku, the height difference no longer bothering him, nothing bothering him anymore really, because nothing could bring him down from the new high he was experiencing.

He watched as Deku’s confident smirk faltered, his eyes tingeing with the smallest hint of worry at Katsuki’s abrupt change in demeanor.

Katsuki’s smirk only grew.

Oh yeah. You should be worried asshole, ‘cause shit just got interesting.

Chapter Text

Izuku was living in his own personal hell.

He watched as the vividly red blush creeped down his neck and colored the top of his chest through the locker room mirror. Never in his life had he gotten to stare at Kacchan in his hero gear for this long without the threat of being obliterated looming.

God, why is the tank so tight? You can see everything...

Izuku knew what was coming. If Kacchan hadn’t realized Izuku's feelings for him by now then today was definitely going to make everything abundantly clear. He knew how his body reacted to Kacchan in this damn costume, and there was no way of escaping their spar later today, so he’d definitely notice Izuku’s body essentially going into heat.

Well, this is it. He’s gonna find out the lengths my hero-crazed depravity can go. 

Really, Izuku should probably be more ashamed that his long held secret was about to be unveiled, but some new developments had come to light recently that were keeping his nerves relatively at bay. Aizawa had told him to brace himself for the dreams, but Izuku didn’t think anything could have prepared him for the onslaught of Kacchan’s inner most thoughts once sleep took over.

To be fair, they had started off innocent enough.

The first couple nights had mostly been them throughout the years. Past instances that Izuku remembered vividly from childhood, and some even as recent as last week. Except now these memories were colored with Kacchan’s commentary and thoughts, his reasonings and understandings. 

Izuku considered, in his own recollection of these memories, them all to be times when Kacchan was angry with him. Instances that further fueled Kacchan’s hatred toward Izuku. Like the time he'd been pissed when Izuku reached for his hand in the creek, enraged when Izuku had beaten him in their first training session at UA, absolute ire driving him when he’d summoned Izuku to Ground Beta.

And in these dreams, sure, those feelings were the frontrunners. But it became obvious after multiple scenes that other emotions were present in the background of those memories as well. Underneath the malevolent red tinging the edges, there were undertones of confusion, embarrassment, admiration, jealousy, and to Izuku’s surprise - attraction.

So, yeah, things had started off innocent enough.

And then…not so much.

This past night had been more fantasies than memories. And they were lewd enough Izuku thought they'd potentially make even Midnight blush.

One had started with Kacchan eyeing Izuku in the locker room as they both undressed after a grueling training session. Watching as Izuku unzipped his jumpsuit slowly, peering over his shoulder to give Kacchan a lust filled gaze, daring him to make a move…It'd ended with Izuku pinned to the lockers as Kacchan thrust up into him fervently, groaning desperately, as his toes curled with the effort of making it last as long as possible.

Jump scenes to right after they’d rescued Kacchan from the league of villains. He’d pushed his way into Izuku’s room and locked the door behind him before shoving Izuku down on the bed, working his way down to his knees between Izuku’s legs, purring that he had to properly thank him for saving his life. Thank worked Izuku’s cock like it was his only mission in life to see him reduced to a babbling mess.

The Ground Beta memory had been last, and it existed in Kacchan’s subconscious on a whole other level. Most likely because it was the only one where Kacchan was drawing from actual experience of the two of them being in such close proximity. That one was so much more vivid. Izuku could feel the labored breathing of his dream-self fanning over Kacchan’s face, felt his chest heaving underneath him, solid hips pressed firmly against his own, wet parted lips smashed against Kacchan’s hand on his face.

This scene had started where the fight had ended. With their bodies flush with one another, the finality of it all settling in, Kacchan’s intense, murderous gaze searing into Izuku’s dazed one. 

Though, now, instead of pushing off of Izuku, he pushed into him even further, groaned with it like he just couldn't help himself. 

His tongue laved up the side of Izuku’s neck, reveling in the saltiness of the effort he’d just exuded in battle. He imprinted marks on all available skin with bared teeth, all the while letting his hands run up and down the length of Izuku’s body. Tight hold in his hair, shuddering at the moans he imagined Izuku would make in response.

When Kacchan’s fantasy had shifted to Izuku flipping their positions to now straddle the him, biting at his ear before whispering Katsuki in a way that dripped from his lips like sin and diving his hand past the waistband of his pants, Izuku had shot up in bed. 

The sheets had been sticky with sweat, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes blearily attempted to adjust to the soft stream of morning light that made its way into his room, and he chocked back a cough as he noticed the very prominent tent in the covers.

Izuku had never ran faster to take a cold shower in his life. Inner monologue chanting: I’m not getting off to myself, not getting off to myself, not--no

But every time he closed his eyes all he could see were his own all too familiar ones drowning him with the amount of lust pooling within them.

Izuku was sure he was now just a constant shade of pink. A perpetual blush taking up residence on the entirety of his body. How could he ever look at his own body again without envisioning the images Kacchan’s mind had branded into his memory. Izuku had never really thought of himself in that light before, and on the rare occasion that he did it had never been anywhere near the same intensity that Kacchan had. This whole discovery of Kacchan’s feelings for him was…

Nerve racking?

Anxiety inducing?

Terrifying?

One more tick off the growing list of things to deepen the Gay Panic Spiral he’d found himself in for the past few days?

Yeah, all of the above worked.

Although, if he were being completely honest with himself…

It’s hot as hell. Kacchan dreams about me! And they aren’t dreams where he’s getting away with my murder! Although, how do I bring this up without him attempting to murdering me? Maybe—

A sudden earsplitting screech that overtook Izuku’s senses caused him to snap out of his thoughts. His hands automatically came up to cover his ears, which hardly muffled anything.

He rushed out of the locker room and into the large space that was Gym Gamma to find Mic belting out a scream in the direction of the locker rooms, the force of his Quirk only intensifying without the added wall standing between them any longer.     

Izuku moved out of the direct current and off to the side of the room, he rounded the space and stuck to the wall to get up behind Mic, who must have not noticed him come in, considering his eyes were scrunched shut and his head thrown back to maximize his attack.

Izuku rolled his eyes as he easily took advantage of the pro's lack of judgement and came up to smack a hand over Mic's mouth, who, in turn, then snapped his eyes open and yelped while jumping away.

Izuku raised his eyebrows in surprise to the reaction. “What was that?” he chuckled.

“You were just taking forever,” Mic groaned. He attempted to plaster his ever present smile back to his face, but it looked strained. “Thought I’d hurry you up,” he said while taking another step back.

“No,” Izuku said stepping towards him, only to have him back up again. “I meant the wimpy scream you just let out.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he chuckled nervously, smile cracking. Another step back.

“Why are you running away from me?” Step up.

“Hmm?” Sidestep.

Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Are you avoiding eye contact?”

“Absolutely not!” Mic sputtered. He seemed to force his gaze to finally meet Izuku’s, though it jumped away again quickly soon after. 

“Does…Kacchan make you nervous?” Izuku asked tilting his head, a devilish smile spreading across his face.

“Gah! Don’t look at me like that!”

Izuku was truly bewildered by this discovery, but somewhat delighted by it, too. “He does, doesn’t he.”

“It’s the eyes, ok?" Mic finally gave in. "Hell spawn red, and then a personality to match. Don’t tell him - or Shouta.” he insisted.

Izuku blinked before he threw his head back to let out his first real laugh in days. “He’s like, half your age!”

“Hey, don’t judge me! You know him, you know what I’m talking about!”

Oh, Izuku knew, all too well. “Yeah but…don’t Aizawa’s eyes go red, too? He's no charmer either,” Izuku chuckled.

Mic rolled his eyes and huffed as he petulantly stuffed his hands into his leather jacket and scuffed the toe of his obviously well-loved leather boot against the floor. “Yeah but that’s only when it’s activated. And he never uses it on me anymore unless he wants to sleep on the couc—” he cut himself off and his cheeks tinged pink.

Izuku gave him a quizzical look. Mic redirected quickly.

“Well - Anywho, why don’t we get this party started!” he exclaimed, smiling brightly once again. He clapped his hands a few times and ushered Izuku to the center of the room.

“Sure you can still teach with the ‘hell spawn red’ eyes watching you,” Izuku teased as he turned to face his instructor.

Mic shoots him and unamused look over the rim of his ridiculous sunglasses. “I’ll be fine, you just surprised me earlier. Just don’t do that evil snarl thing he does and we’ll get through this, alright?” 

“Fair enough,” Izuku nodded. “What are we starting with?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you understand about Bakugou’s Quirk,” Mic prompted.

Easy.

“He sweats Nitroglycerin which he then ignites to set off explosions. The more he sweats, the more intense the explosion. It is best used for offense, but could easily be switched to defense if need be. Super versatile. Small explosions, large, stun grenades, propelling through the air. I think he has a new AP shot or something he can do now.  He—”

“We’ve got a fanboy over here don’t we, don't we folks!” Mic clapped him on the back to cut him off and laughed in good humor. “Great! We don’t have to go over the basics. Fantastic. So, we’re gonna start small. Why don’t you show me the simplest thing you’ve ever seen Bakugou do with his Quirk.”

Izuku mulled over that for a bit. Kacchan hasn’t calmly used his Quirk since they were kids…but he can still vividly remember the small sparks Kacchan would let flicker to life in his then chubby little palms when he would show off in the school yard during primary.

Izuku used the memory as a reference point, before he closed his eyes and focused on the task at hand. He thought of holiday sparklers and their little pin pricks of explosions. Small, subdued, mesmerizing to watch, and in no way threatening. 

He opened his eyes to find his palms alight with small bursts of energy. The flickering lights popped and sizzled against his skin, making his hands tingle. Izuku had no idea how Kacchan’s gloves worked with his Quirk but they somehow allowed the embers to dance across his covered hands.

“Wow, that was fast!” Mic drew Izuku’s attention away from his hands. “For sure thought you’d need some time to adjust to things, but good on you kid! Think you can pick up the intensity a little bit?”

Izuku nodded and focused on ramping up the degree of the explosions still flickering in his hands. It wasn't difficult, it was already incredibly hot in the gym, and even with his first attempt at Kacchan’s Quirk being something a child could do, the heat from it was just one more factor adding to the layer of sweat quickly coating his skin.

With a final push, he brought the contained bursts to bigger, popping detonations. 

This…actually kind of…hurts.

The more power he put behind the explosions the more his arms ached with the force of the back lash. His hands and forearms were beginning to get uncomfortably hot from the white hot heat erupting from the center of his palms, and Izuku couldn’t even hear himself think with how the blasts were going off right next to his ears—they were so loud.

“Yes!” Mic yelled manically over the explosions. “You’re rocking this! Forget the baby stuff, who needs that?! Let’s see you in the air!”

Izuku deactivated the Quirk. “T-the air?” he gulped. “But-but Kacchan didn’t even start moving through the air until, like, last year…” he looked down at his hands worriedly.

“I believe in you, little hero,” Mic smiled kindly. “His body can already do it, so you’re already half way there. You just have to get the hang of it. Plus, you’re a fast learner! You’ve got this!” 

Izuku slowly started to nod his head in determination with the more Mic encouraged him. “Yeah. Yeah ok, yeah. I can do this,” he said in an attempt to hype himself up.

How hard can it be, right? He just faces his palms towards the floor and uses his Quirk to get him off the ground…

Izuku put his hands at his sides, bending them at the wrist so they were parallel with the ground. 

Damn, it took Kacchan forever to get battle in the air down. I wish I had paid more attention…how does he find the balance between full force explosions and the contained ones he uses to keep himself up?

Izuku tested out a few small explosions first, then slowly upped the intensity until he found his feet slowly coming off the ground.

As soon as his feet left the ground though a whole other issue arose.

How does he stay balanced up here?!

Izuku yelped as he wobbled around in the air, arms flailing out while small explosions were still irrupting from his hands. He'd shoot too far to one side, then the other, almost nose dive, catch himself and then over-rotate too much. His arms flailed everywhere, so did his legs. Izuku had no idea how Kacchan made this look so graceful. He felt like baby bird pushed from the nest too soon.

“Whoa—hey! Watch the hair!” Mic yelled angrily while ducking out of the way.

Izuku put too much force behind one of his explosions, overcompensating to keep himself from falling to the floor and it sent him flipping through the air screaming as he lost control of everything. 

The floor came up and hit him before he even realized he was falling.

He groaned deeply and rolled over to his back, vision blurry, vaguely aware of a cackling Mic near him.

“You ok, little hero?” he tried to tamp down his laughter as he stooped to meet Izuku’s dazed gaze. Izuku’s only response was another groan.

“Up you go, then!” he said and dragged Izuku up by both arms.

Izuku made it to his feet and stumbled. “My face hurts,” he garbled woozily.

“Yeah, next time try to avoid eating the pavement at top speed,” Mic suggested with a shrug. “It was a rocky start but I think you can get it. Wanna go again?”

Izuku looked up at him warily.

“Come onnnn, you know you want to show Bakugou up! What are a few scrapes when your pride is on the line?” he said as he nudged Izuku’s arm repeatedly with his terribly pointy elbow. “Hmm? Huh? Huh?”

“Ok!” Izuku relented. “Fine. But if he complains about his body being banged up I’m directing him to you,” Izuku glowered at his instructor who just threw his hands up in surrender with a broad smile.

The next fifteen minutes consisted of Izuku getting off the ground to only then fall back to it with zero control. He’d managed to count six times he’d landed on his face, nine on his ass, four where he’d actually slammed into the wall before sliding to the ground, and once where he landed on an extremely irritated voice hero.

Needless to say things above ground went quite poorly.

“Alright, give it a break. You look like you’re about to pass out. You good?” Mic asked seriously. A new expression of concern and worry took over his features that Izuku had never really seen before on the carefree man.

Izuku nodded, but swayed a little as he did. Mic steadied him with one strong hand to his shoulder.

“Just relax. We still have a bit before we have to meet up with the others. Here,” he handed Izuku a bottle of water and told him to sit. 

Izuku took deep chugs while he considered the man in front of him. Mic sighed and dropped down next to him.

“What?” he asked.

“Wha-“

“You were pouting at me with those demon eyes, it was unnerving. Out with it,” he ordered.

“I just—” Izuku let out an exasperated sigh. “How did you make it through all this without going completely insane?”

Mic raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Um, have you met me?” he chuckled and leaning back on his hands, completely at ease.

It was weird. Seeing Mic outside of his overzealous, obnoxious front he constantly put up. Without his unnaturally cheery disposition he was almost…normal. Bearable. It was weird.

“Sure, but—” Izuku didn't know how to ask about the dreams without bringing about a talk that would surely scar the both of them forever, so he opts for a different line of questioning. “How did you get back to your own body? What am I supposed to be getting out of this? Aizawa said we were supposed to figure some things out on our own, but what does that mean?”

Izuku’s voice began to rise, words coming out rushed, panicked.

“Kacchan won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me. Am I going to be stuck like this forever? Oh god, do I have to be Auntie Mitsuki’s son for the rest of my life? I can’t.  She’ll kill me.  I can’t pretend to be him for much longer. I hate spicy food, and he won’t let me eat Katsudon or-or anything really,” Izuku whimpered miserably. “And, and the—the sexual tens—” Mic is the one to smack a hand over Izuku’s mouth this time.

“Sheesh, and Shouta say’s I never stop talking,” Mic mumbled.

"Shouta" again...

“Look, Midoriya. These are all valid concerns, although I’m electing to ignore the last bit, for both of our sake’s. Just breathe, ok? One thing at a time, yeah?”

He demonstrated breathing deep through his nose and out through his mouth and Izuku followed along with shakily until he was no longer hyperventilating.

“Ok, I’m fine. One thing at a time, you’re right,” he took one last deep breath and tried again. "So, how do we get through this?”

Mic thought on it for awhile before he answered. “I think it’s a respect thing. Or maybe an understanding one another thing? I’m not really all that sure. Like Shouta mentioned, you’ll have to come to those realizations by yourself, but I can tell you that we finally got back to normal life after we stopped coming for each other’s throats and learned to appreciate one another’s hardships.”

Yeah, Aizawa did hint at needing to recognize what the other goes through in their day-to-day life. Walk a mile in their shoes and all that…

Izuku filed away this information for later. He definitely needed to sit down with Kacchan soon if they wanted to be done with this ordeal any time in the near future.

Izuku couldn't exactly imagine what kind of "hardships" Kacchan has actually had to endure, though. So far his life has seemed relatively manageable. Though, with Izuku’s luck, that was sure to change soon.

Not wanting to dwell on that depressing thought any longer than necessary, Izuku decided to veer off topic.

“…you keep calling him Shouta. Why?”

Mic winced and cleared his throat non too subtly. “That’s his name, isn’t it?” he asked jokingly, but Izuku noticed how stiff he'd gotten.

Izuku hummed his agreement. “But no one else here calls him that."

Mic chose to ignore the bait and was then suddenly very focused on picking lint off of his shirt.

“You know, Aizawa said you two were almost as bad as us your first couple years...” Izuku went on anyway.

Mic snorted a laugh, but didn't look up as he muttered, “Understatement of the century.”

Izuku raised a brows at this. “Really? But you two are super close now. Is that what we should expect when we make it out of this?”

Mic shrugged. “Dunno, everyone’s different. Every relationship is different.”

“We have similar dynamics though, the pairs of us, right?”

Mic stood and brushed off his pants. “Sure. You and I are the people pleasers, the emotionally available ones, the optimists.  Bakugou and Sho—ehm, Aizawa are…” he couldn't seem to find the word he’s looking for, so Izuku supplied one.

“Tyrants?”

Mic went still and his mouth formed into a tight line. “I was just going to say ‘intense’—“

“Intensely merciless? Yeah I feel that.”

A strained smile started to spread across Mic's face. “No. They’re just passionate about w—“

“Passionate about making life unbearable? Who are you telling.”

Mic's eye started to twitch. “Hey, now. Take it easy, kid.”

“Ugh, why are they both so relentlessly hostile? Like, we get it, you’re alpha males. Relax.”

Mic dragged Izuku up by the collar and jabbed a long, slender finger into his chest. “I don’t know what you and your little gremlin have going on, but my Shouta is none of those things, understand? He’s not merciless or hostile! He’s the most down to earth person I know and he’s here trying to help you punks out and this is the thanks he ge—“ he stopped his rant when he noticed Izuku smiling.

Mic narrowed his eyes. “Wha-”  

“You two are together.” It wasn’t a question.

Mic dropped Izuku like he’d burned him. “What? N-no! We’re—” Izuku crossed his arms and gave him and unimpressed look. Mic groaned in despair. “—shit! Don’t tell him you found out. I promised I wouldn’t—” he fretted while he began to pace back and forth. He spun to look at Izuku with a half crazed gleam in his eye. “Look. I’ve been wearing him down for the past decade to let us get a proper cat and he's finally caving. I can’t afford to give him a reason to back out of it. I already have a Tabby kitten picked out. So you’re going to keep this to yourself, right?”

“Tabb—? D-decade?!” Izuku sputtered. "Hold on, when—”

“Nope! No, no, no. Enough talking!” Mic waggled a finger at him while a small hysterical laugh formed in the back of his throat. “You’re a sneaky one. You’ve gotten way too much out of me already. We’re here to train,” he emphasized, though Izuku isn’t sure if he was reminding himself or his student.

“But I—”

“Hell of an intermission, but we’re back to business folks!” He clapped his hands, cutting Izuku off, he had his commentating persona back in full swing. “Let’s see what else you’ve got, huh? Let’s see some power moves!”  He declared while he literally pushed Izuku away from him.

Izuku spun on him with pleading eyes. “You can’t just say all that and then not answer questions! There’s so much to unpack here, come on!”

Mic folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips, before the stretched into a thin smirk. “Fine. We both want things. I need to make sure ‘Aizawa’ doesn’t find out one of his student now knows about us and make sure you’re ready for this spar, so I don’t get chewed out about it. And you want answers and for me to not tell Bakugou that you were staring at his body in the locker room for a quarter of our session—“

“What?" Izuku chocked out a surprised screech at where the conversation had gone. "No! I—I wasn't. I was just confused about the gauntlets is all. That’s why it took me so long to get out here!”

“Sure kid, and your mask is on upside down because you were so focused on his eyes, right? What a gentleman,” he scoffed as he made the ‘my eyes are up here’ gesture.

Izuku frantically pat down his face, and sure enough the mask was sitting awkwardly across his cheekbones.  He vaguely remembered throwing it on as an afterthought as he'd mooned over the deep ‘V’ of Kacchan’s top. 

All he could do was try and keep his expression neutral as he slowly fixed the accessory, but he could already feel his face catching fire and giving him away. It was a very strained and painfully silent handful of seconds.

“So,” Mic continued, chipper as ever. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re going to get back to training and if you can land a hit on me from the air I’ll keep this information to myself and I’ll give you a few answers,” he smiled smugly. “Ready?” he asked dropping into a fighting stance.

“Wait! I could barely even stay in the air a few minutes ago! How am I supposed—”

“GOOO!” he bellowed. His Quirk amplified through his speakers as he held the word out. Izuku didn't have much choice but to jump into action.

****

Izuku limped alongside Mic as they made their journey over to Ground Beta. His costume was tattered from scrapping the floor so many times as well as having his explosions hit himself more than anything else. Blood dripped from the shallow gash above his eyebrow. Sweat streaked down his face due to the ungodly heat from his Quirk being mixed with the ridiculous stuffiness of the gym. 

The training session had been a complete wreck from start to finish, but for whatever reason the bubbly man beside him seemed ecstatic that Izuku had just blown his face in.

“Are my eyebrows gone?” Mic asked excitedly, pointing to his face.

Izuku slid his gaze to the side to see that, indeed, half of one of Mic's eyebrows had been singed off. His glasses were also cracked and mangled, and his precarious hairdo was now drooping around his shoulders.

“…kinda,” Izuku answered and Mic just laughed exuberantly. Izuku stared at him in concern.

Kacchan got the competent teacher and I got his cat enthusiast, blackmailing, surprise attack giving, secret boyfriend?

Izuku huffed an irritated sigh. “You owe me answers.”

“Oh! Would you look at the time!” Mic yelled as he made a show of checking his wrist that held no watch.

“No. Don’t you dare. Hey. Hey!“

Mic bounded off towards the direction of Ground Beta and threw a wide smile over his shoulder. “Don’t want to keep Caterpillar man and the hellion waiting!”

Izuku took off after him with sharp, shooting pain coming from many different points of his body screaming at him to slow down. He wanted to tackle the screaming hero again, but he was just so fast.

Finally Mic stopped about a block away from the intersection where Aizawa and Kacchan were located. He bent over and laughed while working to catch his breath.

Izuku managed to finally reach him and hunched over as well to gasp for much needed oxygen. “You know, you move surprisingly quick with those twig legs.”

Mic pushed him off balance, sending Izuku to the ground on his rear. “I’ll have you know Shouta would do anything for these legs,” he winked saucily.

"Gross," Izuku groaned.

“I thought you wanted to know about our relationship?” Mic chuckled.

“Not that!” Izuku said throwing his hands up in exasperation. He sighed. “I just don’t understand it. You two are just so … different. Is that why you work? Because you balance each other out? Or do you have some connection after going through your own switch? Did it happen after the switch or were feelings already there that just intensified after being in each other’s bodies? Did this experience force you to see each other in another light? A romantic light?” his voice dropped to whisper conspiratorially. “Are the dreams real? Or are they just the Quirk messing with us? Did you have, um… R rated dreams?” Izuku waved his hand to attempt to get Mic's attention since he had yet to acknowledge a single question Izuku had asked. “Hello? What is it!”

Mic had turned away from him halfway through his line of questioning to stare thoughtfully at the pair they were there to meet up with down the road. He watched Aizawa say something as he crouched over a sprawled out Kacchan, a small smile graced Mic's lips before he turned back to Izuku and answered, simply, “Yes.”

Izuku gawked at him, a distressed noise eking from the back of his throat. “Yes. I—yes what?”

Mic ignored him as he made his way over to the other pair.

“Hey,” Izuku hissed, stumbling over himself to jump up and fall into step with him. “I just asked you like forty questions back there, what kind of answer is yes? I—“

“Look. Midoryia. If you want me to reassure you that whatever feelings you’re having right now are a byproduct of the Quirk, I can’t do that. You’re a smart kid. You know they were already there. And, yes that goes for you and Bakugou. This situation is just forcing you to actually acknowledge them. And I’ve been there. I know it sucks to finally have to come face-to-face with your desires for your fated rival against your will, but,” he shrugged. “Life comes at you fast sometimes. And if we’re being honest, this whole thing brought about the best thing to ever happen to me. I can’t say it’ll do the same for you two, but at the very least it will help you to understand how to work with one another without a double homicide ending, you feel me?” He clapped Izuku on the shoulder before he exclaimed that they had arrived, making themselves known.

Izuku didn't have much time to register what had just been dropped on him before Aizawa was explaining that sparring would have to wait a few minutes since Kacchan wasn’t prepared for his Quirk.

Izuku smirked despite the roiling in his stomach at Mic's insights. “Not as easy as it looks, huh, Kacchan?”

Kacchan growled, “Shut up you damn nerd,” before he struggled to finally make eye contact with Izuku.

When their eyes finally did meet, though, Izuku felt the familiar wave of relief wash over him again, but this time he didn’t make an excuse for it. It wasn’t Kacchan’s body just randomly reacting, it wasn’t Izuku just reading too much into things. Kacchan’s body relaxed in some way when Izuku’s body was looking at his. It soothed him. 

But the rush of heat running through his veins also told him that Kacchan’s relief almost instantly turns to desire. And as odd as it was to think of Kacchan feeling that way about him, the whiplash is something Izuku is beginning to become accustomed to. 

There was no more denying it. Like Mic had said the feelings were already there, for him and Kacchan. Except now they had no choice but to recognize them. 

Izuku realized the exact moment Kacchan felt his body’s reaction to seeing Ground Zero made up in his hero costume. Kacchan had gone completely still, eyes wide as he took in the form before him, mouth slightly open in awe.

Here we go.

Kacchan pushed off of Aizawa who had been holding him up, removed the space between them quickly, and stood toe-to-toe with Izuku. From this close up Izuku could see how blown out his pupils were, black pools barely rimmed by a forest green. Izuku's smirk faltered seeing the determination in Kacchan’s freckled face. 

Kacchan was, no doubt, about make some snide remark when Aizawa interjected.

“You two look like shit, what they hell happened?”

Mic slung a long arm around Aizawa’s neck. “The kid’s Quirk is explosions. It was his first time using it. We got a little banged up, but he did a rockin' job!”

Aizawa nodded his head, looked at least marginally impressed. “You hear that Bakugou? Midoriya actually accomplished something today.”

Kacchan finally broke eye contact with Izuku to snarl at his teacher. “I swear to fuck, Aizawa—“

“I’m just saying,” Aizawa said innocently. “Seems like Midoriya was the only one 'crushing it'.”

“You’re about to be missing some teeth old man, keep talki—“

“I’m shaking,” Aizawa deadpanned. He completely ignored Kacchan’s colorful cursing and lazily dodged a weak punch aimed at him.

Ok, so maybe Mic and I don’t have the worst student/mentor dynamic.

Mic seemed to ignore Kacchan as well and further leaned into Aizawa. “This combat training stuff is easy. I don’t know what you and All Might are always complaining about. I killed it.”

“I’m not sure if blackmail is considered ‘killing it’, but ok,” Izuku mumbled under his breath while glaring at Mic. He was actually able to speak now without being pinned in place by Kacchan’s gaze.

Aizawa furrowed his brows. “Blackmail?”

Mic shot Izuku a venomous warning look, but when Aizawa turned to face his partner he just shrugged with a grand smile and a shake of his head. “Kid’s been babbling nonsense all day, don’t mind him. So! How about we get this show on the road?”

“We could,” Aizawa drawled. “But Sparky over here needs help that I couldn’t give—”

“Like hell I do,” Kacchan denied stubbornly.

Aizawa chose to ignore him again in favor of focusing on Izuku. “He needs you to tell him how you activate your Quirk while still being able to move,” he finished.

Izuku eyebrows shot up. “You can’t move while it’s activated?”

Kacchan growled. “I can move, dipshit.”

“I’m sorry, let me rephrase,” Aizawa said dryly. “He can’t move at any pace faster than Recovery Girl’s old lady shuffle. Right, Bakugou?”

“I fucking hate you.”

Izuku laughed. “Its fine Kacchan. I can help you,” he said and watched Kacchan physically bristle at his choice of words.

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Aizawa said. Izuku nodded and the two pros headed off to sit on a nearby bench.

Izuku turned to face Kacchan again only to find the other boy already staring.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he answered, playing innocent. “Just admiring how good I look all banged up and sweaty. Hard look to pull off but I make it work, don’t you think?”

Izuku felt his cheeks heat, but chose to move past Kacchan’s blatant attempt at goading him.

He cleared his throat. “Ok, so where to begin…you figured out how to call upon it right?”

Kacchan seemed irritated at the change in conversation, he grumbled something under his breath before he crossed his arms and answered the question. “Yeah, it comes when I tell it to, but it’s like it’s too much. Which I don’t understand. How can there be too much of your Quirk?”

Izuku smiled a small smile. “Because I don’t have full control over it yet. You’re probably calling on one hundred percent of One for All. I can’t handle that yet--At least not for extended periods of time.”

Kacchan regarded him with a narrowed gaze, but gestured at him to go on.

“I can only use about eight percent at any given time, right now. It was five percent up until recently,” Izuku informed him with a shrug.

“…So are you just pulling these numbers out of your ass or what? Eight percent? Five? How could you possibly know how to break down your power like that?”

Izuku huffed an irritated sigh. “I don’t know, you just feel it, Kacchan. Here. Call on it but think of eight percent. Lock onto that number and then let it flow through you, it should allow you to activate it and still fully control it.”

Kacchan made a show of rolling his eyes, but uncrossed his arms and let his eyelids slip shut to concentrate anyway.

Izuku watched him take several steadying breathes and then he felt the air around him come to life, hum with energy. It caused every hair on his body to stand on end. When wisps of green lightning began to flow around the stocky form in front of him all of the blood in Kacchan body seemed to rush south. Izuku was suddenly struggling to breath.

Kacchan snapped open glowing neon eyes, and Izuku thought his knees were about to buckle. When Kacchan finally attempted to move and flashed past Izuku at the speed of light, the heart beating in his borrowed body just about flatlined before it began pounding so hard it made Izuku’s ears ring.

Oh, so that’s why the Ground Beta dream was so intense. Full cowl really sets him off.

Kacchan rushed back up to Izuku so fast that when he stopped two feet in front of him the air that smacked into Izuku from his momentum actually caused him to stumble back a few steps. The raw energy that pulsed between them as Kacchan heaved in breathes, large eyes wild with excitement, body vibrating with barely contained energy, set Kacchan's whole body alight.

Scratch that. Power—no strength, is what sets him off.

“That,” Kacchan rasped. “Is some good shit.”

Izuku could only stare at the powerhouse surging in front of him, couldn't will his mouth to form words. He had no say in any of it, really. Kacchan's body was just reacting and Izuku was only along for the ride.

“See something you want, nerd?” Kacchan attempted goading him again.

Izuku snapped out of it immediately. “What—n-no, no! Your body seems to see something you want, though, obviously.”

Kacchan’s smile began to look forced and his ears tinged pink, but he still shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe it does,” is all he says, which left Izuku floundering for a retort when Aizawa finally cut through the steadily rising tension with an exasperated groan.

“I’d love to make it to my bed sometime today, and it seems Bakugou has finally decided to get his shit together, so let's get this over with already. Take your places on either side of the intersection and wait for the go ahead.”

Izuku looked back over to Kacchan who was giving him a wry smile. “You heard the man. Head over to your side. But make sure you move nice and slow when you’re walking away from me, I’m trying to see something.”

He’s toying with you, don’t rise to the bait.

Izuku turned to make his way to his side of the street, but he didn't give Kacchan the satisfaction of moving slowly. 

“My shoulders, huh?” Kacchan called out from behind him. Izuku’s fists clenched as he turned around a dozen meters away from Kaccahn. “Understandable, I work hard on those.  I’m glad someone notices.”

You’re above this. Wait until you can talk like adults, not just throw out all the embarrassing information you know about him like he is.

“GO!” Mic commanded.

They both took off towards each other without hesitation. Kacchan used One for All which made him much faster, so Izuku raised a palm and set off a mild explosion. Just as he'd wanted, it'd sent Kacchan flying back before he could make any contact. Kacchan chuckled while coughing a bit as he staggered back up to his feet. “Yeah I do look pretty hot setting off my Quirk, don’t I? Do that again, the tingle going up your spine.”

Izuku snarled and rushed him, reared up to set off another blast, but Kacchan was up and running in a flash.

He rounded on Izuku, who barely missed a punch to the face before he countered with a blast that was evaded easily. They continued at hand to hand for a bit, both sweating in the late afternoon heat. They were both panting with exertion, but somehow Kacchan still found the energy to fling snarky comments Izuku’s way.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Izuku growled as he landed a hit to Kacchan’s ribs.

“You're so full of shit,” Kacchan rasped as he clutched at his side. “I should’ve known you’d actually be into the swearing,” Kacchan laughed. “Mmm say it again, your toes curling is fun,” he taunted, and then he was off again, leaving Izuku spinning in circles trying to keep up with his movements. The green flashes left in his wake the only indication that he was circling Izuku.

“Stop running!”

Kacchan stopped at the other end of the block and smiled darkly. “Me? Run?” he asked. Then his voice dropped dangerously. “Never.”

He took two huge leaping bounds toward Izuku and the concrete under his feet crumbled when he took off into the air. Izuku wasted no time getting himself up off the ground as well and propelled himself at the human bullet coming at him. He was still a somewhat off-center in the air, but this was Kacchan's first time ever off the ground with One for All, so Izuku knew he had the advantage, if only fractionally. 

They clashed midair and grappled intensely, both wrestling to get the upper hand.

An overwhelming sense of déjà vu took over when Izuku flipped their positions so he was on top and set off a blast that made his arm feel like it would rip from its socket. It sent them hurtling to the unforgiving ground below in a streak of blazing heat. 

They landed with Kacchan on his back and Izuku pinning him with no room for escape, a perfect echo of their fight just a few days prior. Their heavy breathing and the dust settling were the only sounds Izuku could hear over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.  

Kacchan chuckled weakly underneath him. “I win,” he grated out.

Izuku loosened his hold in surprise—a mistake.

“What do you mean, you win?” Izuku demanded angrily. “I have you pinned.”

Kacchan slipped a hand from Izuku’s weakened grasp and grabbed him by the back of the neck, brought them nose to nose. Crimson and emerald clashed like a forest fire, with every bit the same amount of heat and intensity. And then a sharp grin cut across Kacchan’s face.

“Exactly,” he rasped. Then dragged Izuku’s lips down to his own—hard.

Chapter Text

Taunt Deku. Rile him up. See just how much you can ruffle those innocent little feathers.

The idiotic last words to run through Katsuki's mind before he’d proceeded to piss Deku off to the point that the little asshole actually slammed him through the asphalt with no remorse.

The irony of how everything had transpired wasn’t lost on him. Katsuki was fully aware that Karma was a bitch, he just hadn’t realized she was a bitch that worked so damn fast. 

He could almost see her smugly kicking her feet up, throwing back popcorn, and cackling as she rewound and replayed the same scene out from a few days prior. This time flipping the script so it was depicted in some confusing mirroring reality, where Katsuki found himself in the exact same compromising position he’d forced Deku into. He wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in him having to kiss himself just for the hell of it. 

It’s was fine. He was glad someone around here was having a good time, because while his life was, in fact, one big cosmic joke, Katsuki certainly wasn't fucking laughing.

Why he’d believed that unveiling Deku’s well-kept crush on him would give him the upper hand in this shitfest they’d found themselves, he really had no idea. At the time it’d seemed plausible, but now with his back smarting and his head pounding due to being pummeled into the ground, he realized that once again he’d made the mistake of underestimating Deku—like an idiot.

But, for the record, kissing Deku had not been his intention, alright? Katsuki was a fair man, he can admit to being a dumbass, so he takes full responsibility for everything up until their lips had met—but that final stunt hadn't been his fault! 

Deku’s body was a little shit.

It had already been practically drooling over Katsuki’s body before the match had even started. And then every explosion, grunt, or bit of physical contact made by the him there after only continued to dim Deku’s brain to the max. It was a wonder that Katsuki was able to put up any semblance of a fight at all!

Though it wasn’t until they were flush together on the ground, heavy breaths intermingling, faces centimeters apart, that everything took one final turn for the worse. Because then the object of Deku’s body’s desires was pressed right up against him. Which caused the nerd’s body to overheat, leaving Katsuki trapped inside floundering to not combust. 

It hadn’t helped that Katsuki was already disoriented (see again being thrown through the ground), so in the moment it had been effortless to let Deku’s body take over. It was already begging to take control anyway, so when Katsuki slacked on the reigns it didn’t hesitate to jerk them out of his grasp completely. Which was made obvious when Katsuki’s sole focus suddenly became the features above him. Deku’s body was drinking in the way the light of the setting sun was hitting the angled planes of the face Katsuki had seen in the mirror every day of his life up until this past week.

The soft light shimmered through the still falling soot from the aftermath of their crash landing, cascaded them in a thin veil of dirt and debris. Katsuki’s likely concussion and the effect of the particles that gently swirling around them made the whole scene feel like it was playing out in slow motion.

The sweat above Deku's blonde brows was glistening, dripping like honey down his temple. The last of the day’s rays cut through his long lashes, cast shadows across his high, proud cheekbones and glinted into his eyes. God, those eyes. Deku had to be obsessed with them because Katsuki couldn’t recall any time he’d ever seen them and the word gorgeous came to mind. The light was catching them in the prettiest way, illuminating their usual crimson so they shined like rubies being unearthed.

His usual intense expression was washed in a soft blush, the exertion of their brawl playing a factor, but there was no doubt with the way it was rapidly creeping up to his ears that Katsuki’s body having Deku’s underneath him was doing things. And the flustered stain darkening his perfect complexion only aided in riling up Deku’s body even further. 

It was an absolute clusterfuck that, in reality, probably only lasted all of about thirty seconds. But Katsuki was finding it extremely difficult to even begin to keep up with the myriad of emotions playing out between the pair of them with the way those eyes were fucking up Deku’s already compromised cognitive functions.  

At some point Katsuki found himself declaring he’d won, which was honestly just a last ditch effort to try and throw Deku off, so he’d be able to come out on top for the spar. But, of course, that move had also backfired when Deku had decided to reply and call him out on his bullshit, because then Deku’s body found something it’d liked more than Katsuki’s eyes. Its gaze had dropped down to soft lips still parted and panting. And when a wet tongue poked out to swipe across plush pink flesh the tentative brain to motor connection Katsuki had been grappling with all afternoon finally shut down completely.

Katsuki didn't know if he said anything in return, didn't know how his hand got free, didn't even know when his eyes had slipped shut. All he knew was that he had this—this need.  A strong fucking need, to feel those lips on his own. Deku’s body was aching to touch, to taste…and Katuski, in his weakened, confused state, had indulged it.

Like a fool.

The next instant he'd felt their mouths come together, noses smashing into each other roughly with the amount of force he’d used to drag the Deku down to him. It was almost painful, truthfully, but Deku’s body was singing. Even if the smearing of their lips was messy and gross and only lasted a mere five seconds before Deku shoved Katsuki's face away, his compact little body was literally vibrating with excitement nonetheless.

So there. Deku’s body was a little shit, and the kiss wasn’t Katsuki’s fault, alright?

But Katsuki couldn’t help a small part of himself feeling at ease with knowing that Deku wanted him this badly. That he wasn’t the only one struggling with unrequited (or so he’d thought) desires. Well...at least physically. Who knew if the nerd saw anything in Katsuki past the surface level. But having discovered Deku’s needy reaction had Katsuki’s mind reeling, there was so much to unpack here, with how desperate Deku seemed to be to just touch Katsuki. 

However, the large hand that was then smashed across his face and the raging eyes that stared down at him, didn't leave much time to flesh out feelings. “What the hell, Kacchan?” Deku hissed, his eyes were still wide with shock, but quickly narrowed and took on a dangerous, defensive edge. 

It was a fabulous question, really. Not that Katsuki had the answer. His mouth was open to respond, but no words came to his aid. He was feeling cornered and was only a handful of moments away from falling back on his tried and true method of explosive anger to get him out of this situation, but thankfully Mic broke the tension at the very last second.

“Nobody move! Who won?—shit, I can’t see anything with all this dust—oh, gross, it’s in my mouth,” he spluttered as he stumbled over the now broken road and into view. He waved his hand in front of his face in attempt to clear the hazy air around him. When his eyes finally found the pair of them his face soured.

“I take it your lack of celebration means I won,” the sound of Aizawa’s lazy drawl reached them before his figure did. The rest of the dust finally settled to reveal the disheveled man as he sauntered over to where Mic was visibly pouting, his signature creepy smile physically caused the two boys still on the ground to cringe.

“This isn’t fair! I don’t get to see their combat skills every day, so the odds were already stacked against me! Plus, Bakugou was forced to spar right after nearly passing out. I need a rematch,” Mic argued.

“Interesting. I distinctly remember you saying ‘Bakugou could beat Midoriya on his best day, no matter what body he’s in’.” Deku protested with an indignant ‘hey!’. “So—how do the kids say it? ‘Keep that same energy’?” This time all three of the them cringed.

Mic dragged his hands down his face before he let his lanky arms drop to his sides dramatically and pointedly glared at Deku. “You know, kid, you’ve really been surprising me all day-” A small, prideful smile began to form on Deku’s face.“—in the worst ways,” Mic finished, deadpan. Deku's face fell immediately.

Katsuki pushed Deku off of him and wobbled to a standing position, ignored the intense pain shooting up his spine and the splitting headache in favor of ripping into the two men somehow partially responsible for this fucking mess they were in. “Hey, lay off, asshole. No one gets to talk him like that but me,” he slurred while poking a hard thumb into his chest. “And I thought you two were supposed to be helping us, not betting on one of us to fail, dickheads,” he then whipped around to point accusingly at Aizawa, he stumbled with the force of the turn. “And you! You bet against me? Whose fucking side are you on!”

Katsuki blearily saw three sets of eyes staring at him like he in concern. He blinked rapidly and tried to adjust to everything spinning around him. “And also- wuh? I mean-? Yeah also just-shit. Fucking. Ugh can you idiots stop moving, fuck-” There was double of everything and the ringing in his ears was making it hard to tell if people were responding.

Were they? Were these fuckers even listening?

“Hellooo?” Katsuki blared as he thrust his arms out wide, which threw himself off balance enough that he fell flat on his ass. 

“Oh my god,” Mic laughed and pointed at Katsuki as jostled Aizawa. "This is so you when you’re giving your ‘this-is-the-next-generation-protecting-the-world?’ rant after you’ve graded midterms and drank through Nemuri's liquor cabinet,” he guffawed holding his sides. “No one ever has any idea what you’re saying - it’s hilarious!”

“You’re loud,” was Aizawa’s only reply before he shoved Mic away with a deep frown.

“Wait, so does anyone actually know what he’s saying?” Deku asked. He still looked pissed, but he was peering curiously at Katsuki, who proceeded to take a wild swipe at his face. 

Stupid face causing all this dumb shit.

“Half the time he’s talking I kind of just tune in and out, you know? All the yelling," Aizawa grimaced with distaste. "But now his speech is just so slurred I have no idea what the hell he’s going on about—” Aizawa watched as Katsuki slumped in on himself and fell to the side in a heap. “Yeah he’s definitely got a concussion,” he sighed, unimpressed with his hotheaded student once again.  

“So, problem child. You’re in charge of carrying him again. The old lady is not going to be happy to see ‘Midoriya’ in this bad of shape again, so we’ll go with you to plead his case,” he shook his head and smacked Mic in the back of his, told him to knock of the rambunctious laughter he was still caught up in, which only reared it back up to full force again as the pair headed towards the exit and back to center campus.

Katsuki heard feet scuff the gravel next to him and he looked up to find Deku hovering over him. “I should just leave you here,” he said squatting down to pin Katsuki with sneer. Katsuki pouted. He stretched his arms up weakly and made grabby hands for Deku to pick him up. Deku only glared in return. 

“Don’t think you’re out of talking about what just happened,” he grumbled as he hefted Katsuki’s dead weight into his arms. 

Katsuki easily fell into his arms, head a mess and thoughts scattered. He cuddled up like some kind of fucking child and basked in the warmth of his body’s abnormally high temperature. His eyes threatened to shut, everything was still blurry and he couldn’t focus for shit, but he fought the wave of sleep coming over him to try and save face a little. Was kind of embarrassing going out the way he had.

He was hardly lucid when he craned his neck to take in the perplexed face that stared down at him, crimson eyes bored into him.

“Pretty eyes,” Katsuki garbled eloquently.

“They’re yours,” Deku replied dryly. "Conceited much?”

“Hmmm—no, nope, you like them. A lot. ‘Rubies’,” Katsuki snorted. “Gay.”

He saw the way Deku’s face started to flush as he sputtered out a reply. “Oh, ok, like the ‘emeralds’ hasn’t been floating around in your head every time my eyes come into view,” he hissed out defensively. “And if we’re throwing out the gayest descriptors for features I’d like to put ‘constellations’ for my freckles into the running,” Deku rolled his eyes. 

Ok, geez, so I’m gay for your nerdy ass. Sue me.

Katsuki couldn't make his mouth do words so he just chuckled sleepily in reply as Deku continued to ramble on about who knows what. Surely on any other occasion Katsuki would be mortified that Deku had heard all of the mushy shit that runs through his mind, but he was just so tired. So what if the nerd knew he thought he was nice to look at? How much worse could this situation really get?

Everything’s fine.

Exhaustion was taking over, the need to not be conscious anymore slammed into him in strong waves, was pulling him quickly down into dreamland. He was just about to succumb to it, give in, when something in his periphery caught the last bit of his waning attention. 

A nondescript figure stalked the shadows of the alleyways Deku was passing, hovering just almost out of sight as it followed their little group through the desolate, fake city streets. Katsuki’s not sure if the thing was even real with the way it almost completely disappeared when he looked at it straight on. Katsuki blinked rapidly, tried to focus, but only succeeded in blurring any details of the intruder even further. He tried to point the thing out, but that proved rather difficult as well since Katsuki could barely lift his head anymore, and Deku seemed completely oblivious to both their new friend and Katsuki’s weak attempts to get his attention. 

Suddenly the figure stepped out of the shadows and into the street behind them. Katsuki let his head fall from Deku’s chest, gazed past Deku’s arm to get one last glimpse of the barely there specter before the sunlight completely obscured it from Katsuki’s already dimming vision. 

Ok, so maybe everything isn’t completely fine.

The last thing Katsuki saw was a disembodied smile gleaming at him wickedly. He passed out seconds later in Deku’s arms, just as their mysterious visitor’s sharp canines evaporated into thin air. Katsuki's still not sure if he had been hallucinating or not, but he was positive an ominous chuckle reached his ears just as his eyes slipped shut for good, and a cold shiver shrieked down his spine right before he finally lost his fight with sleep.

That night all he dreamed of were precious gem stones and elusive treasure hunters.

****

Katsuki would kill to have just one time where he woke up in Deku’s body without something effectively turning his day to shit. 

So far, he'd woken up in another body and learned they were stuck like this for who the fuck knew how long. Can't forget having woken up to his own boner for which he had to punch himself in the balls to avoid humiliation. Even the days avoiding Deku still hadn't rid him of this curse. Those days he, instead, had just been woken up by annoying ass Glasses or the candy cane motherfucker knocking on his door and then was forced to have a conversation with them like he cared fuck all about what was flying out of their mouths. 

This morning, though? Took the cake. 

Because this morning, he got the absolute pleasure of realizing his young life was going to come to an end. Ironically, by the hand of the exact same person who had, unfortunately, allowed it to begin. Katsuki gawked down at the phone in his hand.

Seventeen missed calls and nine voicemails from his mother.

“Deku, what the actual fuck,” he didn't yell, his voice wasn’t even raised. Sheer panic had taken over at that point as he tried to comprehend why the guy in front of him was hell bent on getting him murdered.

Deku was pacing in the corner of the room, he’d been doing that for ten minutes now. That and the muttering had started up right after he'd barged into the room, woken Katuski with the way the door reverberated slammed off the wall, and thrown the covers off of him. He then ignored all of Katsuki’s threats to his life and tossed him his pone. Stating, simply: “We have a problem.”

Katsuki could only chuckle hysterically at the comment now that he’d seen what Deku was so worked up about. A problem is a mild inconvenience. Something that usually makes the day harder, but ultimately something you could move past. Like running out of conditioner or locking your keys in your car. But ignoring Mitsuki Bakugou? To this degree? This was a disaster, of apocalyptic proportions. And the voicemails only drove that point home even further.

“Call me back brat. We still need you home at least once this week to help set up for this weekend.”

“Oi, I know your attention span is shit. So, I’m here to remind you that you’d better be here before Saturday to help set this shit up.”  The silent ‘or else’ was heavily implied.

The next three were just more ranting about having an ungrateful son who went off to school and forgot all about the people who'd busted their asses to get him there. Her voice was steadily rising with each new message and her tone was becoming all the more menacing.

“I swear to fucking God, Katsuki. You better have gotten snatched up by another villain. Because that is the only thing that will save you from me shoving my foot up your ass! Call your mother back!”

“I didn’t carry you for nine months and push that big ass head out to be disrespected like this--ANSWER THE GODDAM PHONE!”

“YOU BETTER HOPE TO ANY GOD YOU CAN THAT ALL THOSE YEARS OF QUIRK TRAINING WE SLAVED FOR PAID OFF—BECAUSE I’M COMING FOR YOU.”

Katsuki’s hands were shaking by the time he clicked into the very last voicemail in his inbox. And when he heard the cheery voice coming through the speaker he blanched.

Oh, no.

He noticed the way Deku tensed beside him at the new tone of voice also, because Katsuki’s body understood the deceiving lilt in his mother’s voice all too well.

“Hello, darling. My only boy. Light of my life. Remember when I told you a month ago that your father and I decided on having an anniversary celebration after all, and we wanted you to help set up? You know, it’s funny because I swore we agreed on you coming home throughout the week to help get the house together, but yet here I am still not having heard a word from you all week. And now it’s Friday, the day before the party, and you still won’t answer your phone,” she laughed and it a full body shiver wracked through both of them. It was now Saturday morning.  “Just wanted to remind you that if you aren’t here tomorrow things won’t be pleasant, and that I’d hate to have to come up and embarrass you in front of all your sweet little friends,” she sing songed, and then the line went dead.

Her sickly sweet doting mother voice may fool the untrained ear, but Katsuki knew that it was only reserved for, as she put it - special circumstances. Which Katsuki had learned was code for having his ass handed to him by a small, surprisingly strong, she-devil who could literally put the fear of God into men triple her size. He still wasn’t convinced that she didn’t have some kind of intimidation Quirk, she’d be a great detective with the way she could get others to cower and give in to demands without lifting a single finger. The woman was a fucking force of nature…and here Deku was, ignoring her like she wouldn’t ring his neck for far less!

He finally looked up at Deku, horror-stricken. “What have you done...”

Deku looked nervous, as he rightfully should. Hell, he should be pissing his pants. “I didn’t know! You have her notifications turned off! Who turns off alerts for their mom?” Deku’s voice was high, defensive, scared.

“You’ve met my fucking mom! Is that even a question right now?” Katsuki’s voice was higher, attacking, horrified. “And you still see the little numbers pop up outside the app! I only talk to a few people, Deku. How did you not notice this number going into double digits before now?” he demanded, pointing at the phone accusingly.

“You told me not to message anyone,” Deku countered. “It was on the extensive ‘do’s & don’t’s’ list.”

“I told you not to send messages with the fucking emojis Deku. I didn’t say ‘ignore my phone altogether’ and I definitely did not say not to answer phone calls from my parents. Especially Satan herself!”

Deku threw his hands up. “I don’t know how to send messages any other way Kacchan! So I just left the phone thing alone completely. And how was I supposed to know she was calling if you mute her?” he pointed out, his pitch rising even higher somehow. “And why didn’t you say anything about a party? I would’ve made sure to keep up with her if I had just known!”

Katsuki scrubbed his hands over face before he spread his arms wide. “If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been kind of going through a life crises over here, Deku. Excuse the fuck out of me for some stupid party slipping my mind,” Katsuki yelled back.

Deku looked like he was about to lose it, then he took a breath and released a very shaky sigh. He ran his hands through ash-blonde hair before he plastered a tight lipped smile onto his face. “It’s fine, right? You can just call her back and everything will be fine.”

Katsuki just blinked at him, in awe of his stupidity.

I’m seriously crushing on a fucking idiot.

“Deku, the old man has left a message already,” Katsuki stated and showed Deku the single voicemail from his father. “Your life is over.”

“M-me? How—how me? What does your dad have to do with any of this?” He looked near hysterics again.

“My dad only calls when the old lady has completely lost her shit. So that means that crazy witch has it out for me—you right now, since you’re currently in my body, so that’s it. You’re dead. I mean, you’ve gotta be. I’ve never gone more than six missed calls. This—this is uncharted territory, I just can’t see you coming back from this.”

Deku gave him a pleading, panicked look, and was no doubt about to start blubbering when the phone went off between them. Katsuki jumped at the sound cutting through the quiet morning atmosphere. It was his father. He looked up at Deku, gave him a stern look and thrusted the device towards him. Deku’s eyes bugged out as he shook his head no and shoved it back towards Katsuki. 

They played hot potato with the phone right up until the call almost ended and then Katsuki pressed the green button and threw the phone at Deku one last time with a winning smirk.

“Hello?” The comforting tone of his dad's voice came through the speaker. Deku was frozen, phone just lying in his hands as he hesitated to say anything. Katsuki gesticulated for him to fucking move his mouth, but the nerd just stood there uselessly.

“Katsuki? Son? Are you there?” No reply. Deku's mouth just opened and closed with no sound being produced. 

“Son, I know you’re scared. Which is good. A healthy amount of fear for that woman shows in-tact self-preservation skills. But I promise I’ve talked her back from the ledge…I-I think. If you aren’t here today, though, I can’t guarantee anything,” Dad states solemnly. “Will you be here by noon?”

When Deku didn't immediately answer Katsuki threw his hands up and mimed throttling him. And then finally, finally Deku uttered out a choked off, “Yeah.”

Dad let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God," he exhaled. Then they could hear the clicking of his mother’s heels closing in on the other end of the phone and his father quickly wrapped up the conversation by whispering conspiratorially, “She’s coming. Wear the important suit today, industry people will be here. Also I was told to tell you to bring Izuku. Inko is coming and she hasn’t heard from him in a while either, tell him to look nice.” Deku hadn't said a word since agreeing to be at the party and Dad didn't seem to care. He ended the call with an I love you, son and then threw in a good luck for good measure. Deku stood there just staring at the device in his hands after he’d hung up.

“You literally never shut the fuck up, but when I actually need you to speak you suddenly turn into fucking Koda?” He moved to snatch the phone from Deku, but Deku grabbed his wrist first.

“Oi, what the fu—”

“Kacchan, we can’t go to that party.” It may just be the soft grey light of the overcast morning seeping in through the shades, but Deku's face looked totally devoid of blood.

“Are you stupid? We’re going. I have plans to live past today, and you already told the old man we’d be there. So, pull up your fucking big boy pants and go find the suit in the back of my closet. I’ll throw on whatever sad excuse for an outfit you have in here an—”

“Kacchan they’ll know. They’re our parents. I-I-I,” Deku fisted his hands in his own hair, stared at the ground in disbelief.

“Fuck, don’t glitch out on me, nerd,” Katsuki reached out his hands to calm the other boy down before he caught himself. 

He stood there and awkwardly watched Deku spiral for a few minutes before he decided, fuck it, and grabbed Deku’s face like he’d done to Katsuki before they’d had that first shitty talk with Aizawa. Deku's cheeks were smooshed between his fingers, lips pursed, and his eyes wide with surprise. Katsuki had to suppress his fight or flight urge as he saw the blush spread out over Deku’s face, but fuck at least he had some color to him again. 

The no physical contact rule he’d made for himself was out the window now anyway, might as well let the nerd see how his body reacts to his for once without injuring him or redirecting his attention with an argument. This is what Katsuki wanted, right? For Deku to see him in a different light? One that didn’t involve all the middle school bullshit or the misplaced feelings?

Katsuki looked him in the eye and knew it would stall Katsuki’s body just enough to get the Deku to calm down and actually listen. “Go change into the suit in the back of my closet and meet me downstairs when you’re done. We need to leave soon.”

Deku nodded hesitantly, dazedly. Stared at Katsuki long enough that Deku's body started over heating to something so uncomfortable and nerve racking that Katsuki had to shove Deku away and out the door to get some distance and peace of mind back. Deku shot one last considering glance over his shoulder from the hallway while Katsuki held his gaze and his own breath so as not to spook Deku back into a frenzy. When the door clicked closed Katsuki collapsed on the bed. 

I’m screwed.

****

An hour later they’d met in the common room. A cacophony of cat calls and whistles went up as most of 1-A was awake and socializing by this point of the day. It was probably for the best that others were there anyway because Deku’s body just about fell out when it saw Katsuki's walk through the common room in his impeccably tailored suit. More people around, for once, was a good thing. Meant distractions for Deku as Katsuki pulled the defective body he was in back together.

Deku had forgone the tie, as instructed, and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing off just a hint of skin. One of his hands was stuffed in a pocket and Katsuki's textbook scowl was fixed on his face. He was the definition of suave and Katsuki’s mouth was dry. He mentally thanked the hag for having his father design it as he filed away Deku’s body’s reaction to the garment for another time.

“Hot date?” Ashido waggled her eyebrow at the two of them.

Katsuki replied family thing, but not before Deku replied with a clipped fuck off. Katuski gave him a stunned look but Deku didn't react, just headed for the main doors. Katsuki looked around and saw that no one had batted an eye at their interactions with the group. As he scanned the room his eyes landed on Ochacko, who gave him an exuberant wave goodbye. This had instantaneously ruined Katsuki's excitement. He turned on his heel without acknowledging or reciprocating the farewell and moved quickly to catch up with Deku. 

“You know, that’s the first time we’ve been around other people and passed as each other,” Katsuki slid a smug glance Deku’s way.

A noncommittal hum was Deku's only response. Seemingly still distraught at the idea of facing their parents. Katsuki felt so bad for Deku and the situation he'd put himself that he decided not to push Deuk any further, and so they made their way through the front gate in silence.

A few minutes later they had stopped off at a small outdoor market to pick out spicy chocolates and expensive flowers in a last ditch effort to beg for mercy from his mother. Deku just about jumped out of his skin when Katsuki had reached into his pants pockets to pull out his wallet so he could tell him which card to use. Katsuki was still smirking to himself about the stunt as they got onto the train going to their side of town.

The train was packed and more people were still piling in. It being a Saturday afternoon caused them to be right in the thick of heavy foot traffic. They had no choice but to automatically stand when they got on, and as more people bustled in they found themselves being smashed chest to chest. They were practically holding hands on the pole they both held onto. The train took off and they were pressed impossibly closer by the momentum of the start up causing everyone to jostle around.

They locked eyes and even with all the chatter going on in the box car it was as if they’d carved out their own little space where time stood still. It was quiet there, all Katsuki could hear was the blood rushing in time with his heartbeat in his ears. The scarlet eyes above him dimmed and illuminated with the light of the midday sun playing peek-a-boo as they came and went out of tunnels. He could feel heat creeping up his face and he noticed Deku wasn’t faring any better.

Small talk had never been one of Katsuki’s strong suits, but he needed to say something to alleviate some of the awkwardness.

He cleared his throat before starting. “So. What happened after I passed out?” Katsuki felt something tug at the edges of his memory as he brought this topic up, something that felt important, menacing even, but then Deku was talking and the feeling was quickly forgotten.

“Well," Deku blinked a few times, shook his head to clear it. "We took you to Recovery Girl. She’s pissed by the way, so thanks for that. I think you brought my number of visits limit down.”

Katsuki snickered. “Not my problem.”

Deku rolled his eyes, but moved on. “Oh. But you know how they bet against us?” Katuski frowned at the reminder, but nodded. “Well turns out the loser has to teach the sex-ed class to the first years this year.”

“Are you serious? What did Mic say?” Katsuki couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

“He literally was begging with Aizawa the whole way back to the dorms for ‘anything but that’,” he mimicked Mic's sob. “He actually had tears in his eyes.”

The pair dissolved into laughter. They caught a bunch of furtive glances from those surrounding them as they doubled over and made a commotion. Katsuki straightened back up first in time to catch sight of Deku smiling. And Deku’s body took full advantage of seeing a full fledge smile on the face that was usually always scowling, snarling, growling. Katsuki did too. It was a sight he was also quite unfamiliar with. He could feel a fond smile pull at his own lips when Deku finally caught his breath and they both tampered out their laughing fit with a handful of awkward giggles. It was silent for a beat and then Deku ruffled the back of his hair, gaze averted.

“So…should we going to talk about what happened last night before you passed out, or…?”

Katsuki instantly stiffened. “Here, nerd. Really?”

Deku huffed in annoyance. “When then, Kacchan? You’ve been avoiding me for days and then you kissed me out of nowhere. I think I deserve an explainatio—”

“Fuck, Deku. What do you want me to say? I can’t help that your shitty body is obsessed with mine.”

Ok, so maybe it’s hard to break the deflection habit, he’s was working on it. Either way the light hearted mood was all but obliterated by that point and Deku’s face took on a defensive edge.

“My body obsessed with yours?” Deku chuckled a humorless laugh as the doors to the train slid open. “Ok.” He untangled their hands and stomped off the train.

“Oi!” Katsuki called after him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He had a pretty good idea, but he didn’t know how much Deku actually knew yet so it couldn’t hurt to clarify before he made an even bigger ass out of himself.

The rest of the five minute walk to Katsuki’s house was filled with Katsuki denying he’d been the one to kiss Deku, that it was Deku’s body that had done it and Deku rolling his eyes in disbelief. The flowers and chocolates they bought were now in disarray as both of them flailed their arms and jabbed points out in argument. And the heat of the summer day wasn’t helping to satiate the hostility between them at all, only aided in fueling the flame.

They finally came up the paved path to Katsuki's front door when Deku had had enough. “You’re full of shit. You know you planned that kiss,” he stated angrily and oh boy, Deku was swearing. He was pissed.

“No. I. Didn’t.” Katsuki spat back, the picture of obstinacy.

“You’d been egging me on the entire fight, Kacchan. I’m just supposed to believe that you had nothing to do with it?”

Katsuki threw his hands up in the air. “Like kissing myself has ever been my idea for our first kiss, asshole. Get the fuck out of here,” he scoffed, and pushed past Deku to ring the doorbell before he crossed his arms and glared at the ground.

“Is this some kind of joke to y—wait,” Deku’s expression softened considerably as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Does that mean you’ve thought about our first kiss?”

Katsuki felt himself flush up to his hairline. “W-what. What? Ha! No. Hell no. Who would ever think about kissing you!”

Deku feigned nonchalance but the glint in his eye was sharp when he answered, “I mean, if your dreams are any indication, you’ve thought about doing much less innocent things to me. Never been any kissing, though."

Katsuki didn't even get an actual reply out, just sputtered threats and curses as his face practically caught fire while he floundered for words.

“So, how have you pictured it then?” Deku asked as he moved in on Katsuki's personal space and stared down at him. "Us? Kissing?"

Deku continued to crowd him and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to breath. Deku’s body was all in favor for where this conversation is going, but Katsuki was just wishing the ground would up and swallow him already.

Now would be a fantastic time for death to claim me. Of course he got the fucking sex dreams while I got a trip down memory lane. Where is the Freaky Friday bastard in charge of this shit, I just want to talk.

The door banged open then and Katuski said a small prayer in thanks to whatever god was listening when Deku’s attention was drawn away from him. But then a dark chuckle reverberated through the air. They both immediately froze.

“Well.” They turned to see Katuki’s spitting image in a designer gown as she passed the threshold of the house. A dark smile cut across Mom's face. “Look who we have here.”

Chapter Text

So, the party was up in flames—literally—and when the roof of the gazebo rained down in a fiery inferno, Izuku couldn’t stop the hysterical little giggle that bubbled up in the back of his throat.  

Because at this point, what else could he really do but laugh? 

Mitsuki stood across the yard resembling some kind of goddess of war. The raw power that radiated off of her shot a chill straight to Izuku's core and he had to consciously fight the urge to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness.  

She seethed on the steps of painstakingly decorated wooden stage that was presently burning to the ground. Mitsuki was altogether unfazed by the large amount of debris that had just barely missed her. All her attention was dedicated to glaring through Izuku with a rage and aggression that rivaled the flames that were overtaking everything around them.  

And with a proper lock on her target through the roaring wall of heat the was spreading out and growing between them, she stalked forward. The intent to kill was evident—etched into every inch of her never aging face.  

Izuku took a calculated step back. 

She was breathtaking in the glow of the blaze, shadows played across the sharp angles of her face, and she seemingly commanded the destruction and chaos descending upon them. If no one knew any better it would look as if she’d been the one to bring the party to its scorching end.  

A line of fire slowly licked its way up the train of her couture gown which dragged across the grass and left a searing trail behind her. The flames danced in her all too familiar crimson eyes, the evil glint behind them made it undeniable whose mother she was. She looked so much like Kacchan standing in the glory of one of his Howitzers, it was uncanny. It actually would have been kind of amazing, really, to pick out all the similarities in that moment—if he wasn’t seriously about to be murdered. 

They’d had a plan. It was a foolproof plan.  

An idiot could’ve pulled off this plan.  

Yet, here he was, plan as torched as the backyard. So, what did that make Izuku?  

He had no idea how it had all gone south so quickly. Everything had been going fine, well fine enough, until his—Kacchan’s speech. God, the speech.

Izuku was still trying to wrap his mind around it and what it meant. Because he just didn’t understand what Kacchan wanted. His body’s reactions would say one thing, while his actual words said another, and his attitude something altogether different from that! Izuku let out another strangled wheeze of a laugh. 

A piercing scream cut through Izuku’s thoughts. He chanced a glance to the side and caught the tail end of a man swatting out a small fire spreading on a woman’s dress sleeve. When Izuku turned his head back around Mitsuki was another step closer.  

“Something funny?” she asked in a sweet tone that contrasted drastically with the sharp curl of her tight-lipped snarl.

The disbelieving, barely there quirk of his lips Izuku had already completely forgotten was on his face quickly disappeared.  

Oh, you know, the usual. Just that it seems I was born to only know suffering. Hilarious! 

Izuku knew better than to actually respond. Instead he continued to back up slow enough to not set her off and to also allow him space to truly take stock of the situation. 

The guests that weren’t coughing from the overwhelming amount of smoke rising in the air were screaming as they fought and scrambled over each other to reach the fenced-off exit.  Decorations were catching light and dropping from the sky like falling stars, but decidedly much more hazardous as they caught more table clothes on fire upon their landing.  

Izuku's poor mother was still effectively out of commission. Her small body completely limp in some stranger's lap, being fanned with a napkin vigorously. They were attempting to rouse her from her sudden loss of consciousness, but it seemed to be a lost cause. 

Masaru, Izuku's last line of defense, was on the ground. One hand clamped to his nose in an attempt to stop the excessive amount of blood that leaked from it, his glasses were cracked and crooked on his face as his shouts for his wife to show mercy fell on deaf ears. 

Kacchan was M.I.A, off chasing, for all intents and purposes, a ghost. 

And here Izuku stood, alone and terrified, in a face-off with the mother of his idiot crush, who had literally just warned him of how thin the ice was that he was treading. She’d warned him that if they ruined this party there would be hell to pay, so forgive him if he couldn’t contain his laughter as the threat actually came to life before his eyes.   

Everything in sight was currently ablaze and the Devil herself was primed and ready to dish out his punishment. The screams of terror and eerie wail of sirens in the distance were a terrifying soundtrack that really added a nice End-of-Times vibe to Izuku’s last few seconds on Earth. 

Another step forward brought Mitsuki onto the back porch with Izuku, about ten feet away now, the distance became alarmingly smaller as she continued to stalk forward.  

The ominous hollow clicking of her designer heels on the wooden planks might as well have been the nails in his coffin, thunderously loud and equally as damning. But nothing was quite as loud as Izuku’s heartbeat pounding in his ears. Every nerve ending in Kacchan’s body was telling Izuku to run.  

He felt his lower back bump against the gift table he’d been in charge of setting up earlier, and with another step taken by Mitsuki his angle to reach the back door of the house and escape was now effectively cut off. Cornered. 

She removed the last bit of space between them and just as she was about to loom over him, Masaru was there. A mess of charred clothes and soot as well as bloodied mouth and hands—safe guarding Izuku for the umpteenth time that day despite his obvious injuries. He stood tall and resolutely, prepared to face the monster that was his wife head on. 

Mitsuki was unfazed by his act of valor and responded so calmly Izuku’s blood ran cold, “Move, or die with him. You decide.” 

****

Masaru’s bravery had started as soon as they'd arrived.  

There had been a ten second window between Mitsuki opening the door and her cutting through the space between them with a perfectly manicured hand that Izuku had to contemplate if he’d really, truly accomplished anything in his brief life.  

Blood red lacquered nails filed to near claws were coming for him and Izuku was resigned to accept his untimely demise. He’d clinched his eyes shut, prayed she’d just be merciful and end it quickly, when Masaru had stepped in.  

He’d just appeared. Blocked off Mitsuki and smiled brightly down at the two of them. Sunlight streamed down to further illuminate his blinding, benevolent presence and Izuku was sure he was staring into the face of God. Albeit a slightly flushed, sweaty, out of breath face, but Izuku wasn’t going to complain about the condition his miracles came in. 

Marsaru had snatched Mitsuki’s wrist at the last second, before lethal contact with Izuku’s neck could be made, and pushed her up against the door, leaned heavily into her to keep her still. Izuku barely managed to contain the relieved sob that threatened to escape him. 

“Masaru, what the fu—” 

He cut her off. “Boys, you made it! Great! Kira is out back waiting for you to help set up. Blue hair. Can’t miss her,” he said hastily, a bit out of breath, and jerked his head towards the back of the house. His voice became strained when Mitsuki began to give him a real run for his money and struggled against his hold in earnest.  

Kacchan stepped to leave the entryway first and Izuku cautiously followed after. He didn't take his eye off Mitsuki in case she managed to spring free, since she seemed hell-bent on accomplishing that task with how she thrashed and cursed her husband under her breath. Masaru didn’t budge. He just doubled down the lock he had on her wrists and continued to smile at the boys through the strain, attempting to tame the beast and still be ever the most gracious host.  

“We’re so happy you two are here,” he said loud enough to try and drown out the worst of Mitsuki’s snarling rant as they carefully continued past them. “Right, honey?” 

Mitsuki gave one final last ditch effort to break free to which Masaru responded with a very unimpressed look and held her fast once more. She growled and let out a petulant huff when her attempts still proved unfruitful before resigning herself to being pinned to the front door, face red, chest heaving, eyes livid.  

She glared up at him. He glared right back. The silent exchange was terrifying and Izuku had to commend Masaru on his bravery. Mitsuki’s glower could absolutely boil flesh and here he was taking the full brunt of it without so much as a flinch.  

“Right?” He prompted again, firmer, and Mitsuki’s frown deepened further before she whipped her dangerous gaze to Izuku. She still gave no answer and Izuku’s stomach dropped when her upper lip began to curl in a silent sneer.  

The good news was that she was contained and being fended off for the moment. The bad news? It wouldn’t last forever. Izuku chanced taking his eyes off of her for a moment to look at Masaru. He gave him a single nod and flicked his eyes quickly towards the exit. A comrade in arms ordering them to retreat. 

Kacchan grabbed Izuku's arm and started towards the next room, apparently not having to be told twice that they were free to get the hell out of there. Izuku went willingly, and pointedly ignored any further eye contact with Mitsuki. But her uncharacteristic silence still sent a chill down his spine and the feeling of those dangerous eyes burning into the back of his head made him feel anything but victorious about their escape. Because they’d made it through the door, sure, but were now also deep behind enemy lines and the day was far from over. 

Once they made it through the threshold into the next room Izuku let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding on a very shaky exhale. A small sense of relief worked to fend off the overwhelming sense of panic for the first time since the front door had swung open. Masaru really had pulled through in a major way. 

“I think I love your dad,” Izuku said as Kacchan continued to drag him through the rest of the house. 

Kacchan side eyed him. “Don’t be gross.” 

“He saved my life,” Izuku insisted. 

“He didn’t save shit,” Kacchan responded curtly. He paused briefly to snatch the box of chocolates out of Izuku’s hands. It was completely bent out of shape and singed where he’d unconsciously been digging his fingers into it the flimsy cardboard and letting off small sparks.  

“He just bought you enough time to live in fear a little longer. He won’t always be there to protect you, trust me. If I know my mom, which unfortunately, I do, she’s not done with you. Not even close.” He dropped his mangled flowers next to the now leaking chocolates on the dining room table and it made for a rather sad picture.  

So much for gifts of appeasement.  

Kacchan dragged him to the sliding glass door that lead into the back yard and stopped short before opening it. He added in, almost like it was an afterthought, “She wasn’t giving up just then. Just picking her battles and biding her time for another opportunity to present itself to corner you. Alone.” 

Izuku gulped. 

Kacchan reached for the door handle and Izuku pulled him to a stop again.  

“We need a plan.” 

“Wha—” 

“For how to pull off being each other in front of the people who literally raised us?” Izuku could feel his muttering starting up. “Better yet, why don’t we just try to tell them? Maybe if we write it out this time or something? Then we aren’t technically—” 

“I’m gonna stop you," Kacchan quickly cut him off then took in an irritated breath. "Wasn’t going to tell you this because you freak out over everything,” he let out a long suffering sigh, stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere but Izuku. “But I may have passed out again studying with half-and-half,” he grumbled out in a tired voice. 

Izuku blinked and stared at him for a long moment before what he said actually sunk in. 

“What?” He half screeched. 

“See, this is why I wasn’t going to say shit." He didn't even raise his voice in return, just rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle again. Izuku blocked his path. 

“Then why are you bringing it up now? When—how? How did—” 

“Because you want to try and tell people and I’m here to tell you that’s a bad idea. I didn’t want to fall behind while we were out of class so I agreed when he asked me to join him, but then the bastard started making jokes about me,” he said and gestured to Izuku from (now blonde) head to toe. “Which, fuck the both of you by the way, that seemed really natural for him with you,” he added sounding truly insulted. “And I started to tell him about himself. Slipped up and only insinuated I wasn’t exactly who I was supposed to be and I blacked out.” 

Izuku blanched. 

“And I was out for like four hours that time, so apparently the affects last longer and the pain gets worse. And I don’t know if it’s a ‘three strikes you’re out’ kind of thing or what, but I'm not tryin' to find out, so just keep your shitty ideas to yourself, got it?” He made a move to leave again and Izuku blocked him one more time. Kacchan didn’t turn to face him, just kept his hand tightly gripped on the handle and pointedly looked out the glass in front of him gritting his teeth. 

Izuku’s voice was low and searching, just trying to understand, as he moved in a bit closer. “Kacchan, why wouldn’t you tell me about this? We’re supposed to be working together and all you keep doing is pushing me away and leaving me out of things,” he reached out towards him gently when Kacchan just continued to stare out into the yard. “Just—” 

“Does that guy look familiar to you?” 

Izuku pulled back his hand and frowned. “What? Who—are you even listening to me?”  

“Him. By the fence. I’ve seen him before.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” Izuku huffed angrily, thoroughly peeved, but he looked out anyway to see…absolutely nothing. 

“Kacchan, there’s no one there.” 

Kacchan finally turned to face Izuku, but only to look at him like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. 

“'Fuck do you mean there’s no one there? He’s right there, Deku. Tall. Dark hair. Staring at us.” He pointed through the glass and left smudges where his finger repeatedly jabbed at it to get his point across. 

“Are you joking right now? I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you keep deflecting,” Izuku said heatedly. 

Kacchan glared at him. “No one’s deflecting anything, stupid Deku. I already told you why I didn’t tell you—you never shut up about things. All I’m asking is if you’ve ever seen the weirdo over there who—wait where’d he go?” Kacchan had faced outside again and was furiously looking around to find someone Izuku wasn’t even sure existed.  

Izuku looked out and saw the space next to the fence just as empty as it had been at his first glance. “Ok…” he said gently. “Did that second black out maybe mess with your head, or…?” 

“Fuck off! He was right—!” Kacchan ran his hands through his hair before taking a deep centering breath. “You know what? Forget it. You’re obviously just blind and the extra isn’t even important anyway,” he waved the whole thing off. 

“Kaccan, wha—”  

Kacchan cut in and continued with their earlier conversation like nothing had just happened. “So, you want a plan, right? Here’s the plan. One: don’t speak unless spoken to. Two: don’t be a little bitch, she can literally smell fear, so do not let your guard down around her,” he advised quickly, ticking off fingers with each new rule.  

Izuku’s mind was reeling as he tried to keep up with what was going on. He looked outside again to make sure he wasn’t the one going crazy, but there was still no man in sight. 

What is happeni— 

“Three: maybe, I don’t know, try not to scream about sex dreams where everyone can hear,” he added. 

And then Izuku was forgetting about the mystery man too, his attention immediately fell back on Kacchan as he scoffed. “Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Shut me up about it so you can avoid it some more.” 

Kacchan gave him a withering glare, but pointedly ignored everything he’d just said. “Four: Don’t draw any negative attention towards yourself. She’s already pissed, so don’t make her hate you even more. That good enough for you?” 

“No,” Izuku said, crossed his arms. “What about my mom? Don’t you need her plan?” 

Kacchan sighed heavily in agitation. “What about her, Deku? She’s sunshine incarnate, she doesn’t need a plan. I just need to be the perfect momma’s boy and try not to horrify her with my degenerate ways, right? Your guys’ relationship isn’t that complicated. I can handle her.”  

Before Izuku could argue there was a loud rapping on the glass next to them that caused them both to jump.  

A girl, maybe a few years older than them, with sky blue space buns and elfish features stood on the other side of the glass and smiled at them. She waved frantically for them to come out and join her. Kacchan didn't hesitate to take the opportunity to end their conversation and walked back out into the blistering heat, leaving Izuku no choice but to follow his lead. 

About a dozen or so wait staff were scrambling around setting up the backyard to meet Mitsuki’s, no doubt, impossibly high standards. Each person looked like they’d rather die than be working out in ninety-degree heat in slacks, a button down shirt, and a vest for a sociopath with outrageous demands.  

All except for the odd girl beckoning them over. She seemed overly animated and concerningly chipper despite the circumstances. She was all but jumping up and down as she bounced on her toes and waited for them to meet her on the other side of the back porch.  

“…Kira, right?” Izuku asked. 

“That’s me!” she replied in an airy falsetto followed by a tinkling laugh. “And you must be the Bakugous' son and...Midoriya? Right?” Her eyes and hair were the same color as the cloudless sky above them and that along with her dainty features gave off a very nature fairy vibe to Izuku.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Kacchan cut off the pleasantries. “So, what the hell do you need us to do? No offense, but your voice is already kind of making me want to stab myself in the ears, so if we could just hurry this along?” 

Izuku smacked him on the arm with a disapproving glower. 

Kira just laughed again. “Someone’s grumpy!” 

“Yeah, well we can’t all shit rainbows like yo—“ Izuku cut him off with another, harder punch to the arm.  

A strained smile spreads acrossIzuku's face. “I’m so sorry, he’s—” 

“No, no,” she chuckled. “It’s fine. He’s almost right. Although, it’s less rainbows, more sparkles,” she said and made jazz hands before she disappeared in a flash of glitter as the end of her exaggerated sentence still hung in the air. 

Izuku gasped while Kacchan cursed, both of them took a step back on instinct to prepare for anything a hidden figure could possibly do. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” she said from behind them and they both jumped again, still managing to have been caught off guard. 

“You can teleport!” Izuku said in awe. 

“Kind of a nifty trick for the manager of an event planning team, don’t yah think? I’m always needed and I’m always available!” She beamed. “I wanted to be a hero, but apparently the sparkles take away the stealth my Quirk could be used for, so.” She shrugged good naturedly, but she still seemed to be a little hurt about it.  

Kacchan cut in before Izuku could. “Please, for the love of God, just tell me what my assignments are before he starts geeking out over your Quirk. I’m literally begging.” 

Izuku ignored him, but Kira tilted her head to the side and curiously eyed Kacchan. “I thought Mrs. Bakugou said her son was the surly one, but you seem to be the one with the attitude problem, little green man.”  

Both boys stiffened as she fished around for something on a nearby table. Both suddenly reminded that this charade wasn’t only for their parents, they had a whole guest list of people who knew the Bakugous and, more than likely, also knew their son. They needed to get their act together, and quickly. 

“Whatever. Everyone has off days, right?” she brushed it off with a shrug and a blinding smile. She handed them both a list of jobs that needed to be done before the party started. “Have at it boys! If you need me just holler, I have excellent hearing,” she said with a wink and an inclination of her head to show off her pointed ears, before she vanished in her glitter storm and left them to their work.

And what back breaking work it was.  

Setting up for the party was brutal. Kira’s staff was relentless. Everything had to be perfect. Place that here…drag that there…no no no fold the napkin this way, stupid! It was exhausting. Nothing was ever finished. Each time one task got done he would be called over to complete another.  

Then there was Mitsuki. Every time Izuku felt a chill run down his spine while he was standing in the midday sun, he only had to look up and find the source of his discomfort’s murderous gaze locked on him from different windows in the house. They’d make eye contact for a few seconds before she’d narrow hers and disappear into the shadows like some creature of the night. 

Come to find out that’d been her tracking his movements to wait until he broke off from the pack for some reason or another.  

Each time he stopped for a break she’d be there, but then so would Masaru. He’d show up to ask about menial things. School, training, friends. And Izuku found it odd at first, until he realized Mitsuki was waiting to pounce. He would always notice her hovering just a few feet away whenever Masaru made an impromptu appearance. She'd be around some corner fuming as Masaru cut in to chat him up.  

Masaru would follow his line of sight and pretend to just then notice her there too, and then shoot her an innocent smile and wave. She always responded by flipping him the bird and stalking away. Masaru would just laughed, pat Izuku’s hair, and leave without another word. And Izuku would fondly watch him go, his knight in shining armor, vowing he’d die for that man given the chance. 

Everything else went off without a hitch, though. Groups of the staff worked seamlessly together and the backyard turned into a whole new venue right before Izuku’s eyes. Kira was never in one place for long, her blinding disappearing act would light up all over the yard as she hopped around, helping out in any way she could.  

Every now and then, when they weren’t in the same space and bickering back and forth, Izuku would catch sight of Kacchan and he’d be staring off at nothing. Eyes following something that Izuku couldn’t see and each time Izuku grew more concerned, thinking about the imaginary man Kacchan insisted on seeing earlier.  

What if the Quirk is messing with us? Is it dangerous? How much do we really know about what’s being done to our minds? 

But Izuku never questioned Kacchan further on his new affinity to see the unknown. A lot was already going down today and there was no need to rile him up any more than he already always was. So he just continued to work diligently until the announcement was made that they were finished.  

When everything was said and done it had been seven hours since they’d arrived. 

Seven hours they’d slaved to set up Mistuki’s vision of ‘love under the stars’ or something ridiculous like that, Izuku couldn't really remember. Being used for grunt work for hours on end tended to blur everything together, that and maybe dehydration. 

Because it was so hot, and Izuku was sweating. 

Why Mitsuki decided this was a black tie event in the middle of summer and why Masaru had insisted they show up party ready were two things that were beyond Izuku's comprehension.  

He and Kacchan had both forgone their suit jackets and dress shirts less than a half hour into things, choosing to work in their thin undershirts until the party actually started.  

And Izuku was immediately grateful for the distraction of constant work because Kacchan’s body left without anything to do, kept finding its gaze drawn back to the muscles bunching and pulling under familiar freckled skin. Izuku didn’t think he’d ever have to force himself to not salivate over his own arms, but there’s a first time for everything he guessed. 

He was almost positive he noticed Kacchan struggling with the same ogling issue. Only because Izuku knew if he were in his own body the temptation to see Kacchan halfway shirtless with a sweaty tank sticking to his very defined chest and abdomen would be almost impossible to resist. So he also knew the high blush dusting Kacchan’s cheeks wasn’t just from the day’s heat; but neither of them brought that up either. Avoidance seemed to be the word of the day and it was driving Izuku to madness.  

He was still very much curious as to where Kacchan actually was with his feelings for him, but if the breakdown at the front door earlier was any indication, Kacchan was extremely far off from being anywhere near close to sharing that part of himself with Izuku. He sighed to think about just how far off Kacchan might be. Were they ever going to have an actual conversation about it or was Kacchan going to constantly fight to ignore it? 

No. He has to talk to me eventually. Its literally one of the stipulations to getting back to normal…at least that’s what Mic had said. Getting to know and respect one another? That included back and forth. Talking. Communication.  

Which, with Kacchan, is like pulling teeth, but Izuku could be patient. He'd waited this long, what was a little while longer? 

Kira broke him out of his overthinking when she demanded everyone’s attention. “Ok, guys! We’re done with set up. Great job!” She clapped and smiled cheerfully. Her crew just stared at her blankly, eyes devoid of any emotion other than exhaustion as they fought to merely continue standing.  

“Guests start arriving in forty-five, so take a break and we’ll re-group in thirty!” They broke away before she was even done talking, a hoard of zombies finding small strips of shade around the edges of the yard to crash in until called upon to rise again. 

Kira rubbed the back of her neck and smiled like she was embarrassed when she turned toward Izuku. “We’re all at University. Everyone’s spread pretty thin right now, you know?” 

Izuku chuckled lightly. “They still did an awesome job! Everything’s going to look amazing once the sun starts to set,” he encouraged. 

“Aw thanks, sweetie! You know, your mom is totally wrong about you. You’re a dream. Your boy toy on the other hand?” She thumbed over her shoulder at Kacchan, deadpan. “Is the worst.” 

Izuku flushed. “B-boy toy? Who, Ka-Midoriya? N-no, um—” 

“Relax. You’ve been gawking at each other all day. There’s no need to deny it,” she said with a breezy wink. “You two are cute couple in a weird ‘we-argue-non-stop-and-insult-each-other-constantly-but-that’s-love-look-it-up’ kind of way.” 

“We are not a couple,” Izuku wheezed and frantically tired to wrap up the conversation as Kacchan began to make his way over to them. 

“No?” 

“No.” 

She narrowed her eyes before looking between the two of them once more. She shrugged with a face that said she didn't believe it for a second. “Whatever you say, chief!” she gave a sassy salute then easily reverted back to manager mode once Kacchan was within earshot. “You two are free to go. Thanks for helping out!” 

“Not like we had a fuckin’ choice,” Kacchan mumbled low enough that Kira couldn’t hear. Izuku shot him a warning look which he promptly blew off by ignoring it altogether and began picking up his previously discarded clothing. “It’s hot as balls. I’m going inside. No one bother me or—” 

“Izuku!” An achingly familiar voice rang through the air.  

Izuku looked up on instinct and saw his mom made up in a pretty pink dress, bustling down the porch steps to no doubt smother her son in affection.  

Kacchan had his back to her, and he continued to face away as he closed his eyes and let out a very violent exhale through his nose. His plans to relax until the party were over before they'd even began.  

“Kacch—” Izuku started, but Kacchan threw up a hand to silence him. The muscles of his jaw were ticking in irritation, his other fist clinched and unclinched in an attempt to calm himself down until just before Mom was in pouncing distance. Right as she reached him he turned around with a bright smile and wide open arms. 

“Mom!” 

Kacchan effortlessly scooped Inko up and twirled her around a few times as they giggled all over each other before coming to a dizzying stop. Mom smooshed his cheeks together and beamed. “My baby, oh, I missed you so much!” 

Kacchan tried to smile through the iron grip she had on his face and it ended up making his chubby cheeks look that much more biteable.  

Haha, whoa. That was a Kacchan word, not mine. Pull it together body, now is not the time. 

“I missed you, too,” he responded. And his tone was so endearing, his eyes so earnest with the threat of unshed tears sticking to his eyelashes. Izuku was legitimately floored at the act Kacchan was putting on so effortlessly. Just what the hell was going on here? 

Mom gave him a watery smile before she fully looked him over.

“Goodness Izuku, you’re a mess! Let’s get you ready before fancy fashion people see you looking like this!” She fretted over him all the way to the door and Kacchan let her, smiling sheepishly and acting embarrassed at her attempts to remove dirt from his face with a licked thumb. 

Izuku watched them leave, enraptured. Just before Mom's final shove into the house Kacchan whole face changed as he gave Izuku a dark smile that set his blood on fire. And then they were gone, leaving Izuku to wonder how he was supposed to live up to that performance with Kacchan’s parents… 

“Wow,” Kira, who he’d totally forgotten about, said beside him. “How does it feel to date all those different personalities? Like who was that just now?” 

Lady, you don’t even know the half of it. 

“I told you, we aren’t—” 

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes. “You aren’t dating ok, whatever. I’m gonna go power nap. See ya later, lover boy!” 

Izuku tried to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks as he found his own clothes and made his way into the house.  

It was an instant shift in atmosphere. Where outside had been bright, and hot, and abuzz with energy. Inside was dimly lit, and cold, and eerily quiet. Izuku was immediately on edge as he creeped through the house towards Kacchan’s room to find a new undershirt. The way Kacchan's Quirk was set up, there was no way Izuku could continue with the tank he had on currently. New underwear may be called for, too… 

He was about to walk in front of the kitchen’s entryway when he heard her voice, and every hair on his body stood on end.  

“I don’t see why I couldn’t just talk to him. He’s my son too, Masaru.” 

“We both know you’re too riled up to just talk to him,” Masaru answered in a tone of voice that suggested they’d had a similar conversation on many separate occasions today. “You were walking around with a knife when you called and left him those last few messages the other day. We don’t need that energy around guests today, Mitsuki.” 

“It’s my emotional support object! But I swear I was only going to talk with him.” But even without seeing her Izuku could hear the lilt in her voice at the end of the sentence. Everyone knew that was a lie.  

Masaru humored her anyway. “Oh? Is that why you bound my hands just before the boys showed up? So I wouldn’t interrupt your talk?” 

Izuku’s eyebrows rose in surprise. What was this? He chanced a peek around the corner just in time to see Mitsuki’s expression falter slightly. 

“We agreed. I would be the one to get the door,” he continued, encroaching on her space, slowly backing her up against a counter. 

Mitsuki attempted to school her face by switching to a thoughtful expression. “Really? Hmm I don’t recall,” she answered flippantly, feigning ignorance as she fisted his tie, bringing them face to face, and she nosed under his jaw slyly. 

Masaru looked surprised for half a second before he narrowed his eyes distrustfully. “We aren’t doing this again.” 

“What? Having fun?” she pouted with a kiss under his ear.  

He caught the sneaky hand traveling down his body and towered over her menacingly. “No. Tying me up and distracting me, then waiting ‘til my pants were literally down so you could run to the door,” he hissed at a volume that suggested he’d tried for a whisper, but Izuku had heard it all quite clearly. “That was low, even for you.”

To Izuku’s horror Masaru’s disheveled state earlier was beginning to make much more sense. He had thought it was just from racing Mitsuki to the door.  But then his shirt had been a bit wrinkled and some buttons had been missed towards the bottom…belt missing, flushed down to his chest— 

“Baby, I’m hurt,” Mitsuki said with another fake pout before she leaned in to purr seductively, “Because you of all people know I can go so much lower.” 

Mitsuki gave him a cheeky sneer, the innocent act dropped just as quickly as it was taken up. She moved a shapely leg, exposed by a deep split in her dress, up and between Masaru’s to drive her point home. Masaru continued to frown at her, but the blush that creeped up over his ears was pretty telling. 

Oh. 

Izuku’s cheeks heated instantaneously seeing Kacchan’s parents partake in some horrifying type of foreplay. He quickly plastered himself to the wall outside of the kitchen again and prayed this was as far as this game of chicken would go. He very much wanted to not be hearing this conversation. But he was afraid if he moved now he’d chance being heard or even worse seen, so he stayed put despite every nerve telling him to high tail it out of there. 

Some scuffling and heavier breathing started up in the other room and Izuku’s stomach dropped. 

Oh, please, no. 

“No! We are not playing this game today woman!” Masaru exclaimed loud enough to make Izuku jump, but thank God his virgin ears were spared for another day.  

Mitsuki laughed easily. “You’re no fun.” 

“Guests are about to arrive and you’ve got me like this?” Izuku couldn’t see them anymore, but he’s sure he could imagine the predicament Masaru was currently in. “I’m going to finish getting ready. Do not burn this house down while I’m gone, Mitsuki, please.” 

“Alright, fine.” She finally relented in exasperation. 

Masaru let out a noncommittal sound of approval, then rushed past Izuku without noticing him, since it seemed he was making a beeline for the restroom. Mitsuki cackled as he rushed off, “You sure you don’t want any help with that, hon?”  

Masaru threw his arm back and flipped her off like they’d been doing all day. An awkward limp to his stride as he tried to adjust himself in his pants with his other hand. 

Mitsuki continued to laugh, but Izuku could hear the click of her heels retreating in the opposite direction as they both left the kitchen. He let out a quiet sigh of relief that the scarring scene was blessedly over and that Mitsuki was headed towards the other end of the house. He waited a few more moments, just to be safe, then made a mad dash for the west wings stairs.  

A flash of light had Kira materializing out of nowhere. Izuku was not proud of the undignified screech he let out at her arrival. 

“Bakugou! There you are!” 

And just like that his location had been compromised. The abrupt stop of heels clicking away might as well have been the timer switching to zero right before a bomb detonates, both signified the end of life.  

Kira kept talking, and damn was she loud. Izuku frantically started shushing her, but she wouldn’t shut up. 

“I forgot to tell you we’ll still need you to help lighting all the candles. There’s a metric ton of them oh my God, you wouldn’t believe—” 

Izuku smacked a hand over her mouth and dragged her back to the wall he’d been hiding behind earlier like she was some kind of hostage. She was rightfully shocked, frozen in his hold and they were both breathing heavily.  

Izuku couldn’t tell if it was eerily quiet or if his blood was just rushing in his ears loud enough that he couldn’t hear anything else. His eyes were screwed shut as he tried to locate Mitsuki’s whereabouts within the house. 

Was she far enough away maybe she didn’t hear her? No. I screamed and then she yelled his name. She'd heard. Why can’t I hear the heels? Did she take them off? That sneaky bi— 

“Hello kids,” a cheery voice said beside them and Izuku’s gut twisted violently as he snapped his eyes open to see Mitsuki poke her head around the corner. 

Kira extracted herself from his death grip quickly and Izuku let her go, no longer wanting anything to do with the traitor. “U-um, hello Mrs. Bakugou! I was just telling him we still needed him for some candle lighting out back, so—” 

“If you don’t mind just asking Midoriya to help you finish up? I need to have a word with my son,” she said with a strained smile that even Kira could read as threatening since she was backing away slowly with her hands unconsciously up in peace. 

“Y-yeah, no problem! I’ll just go find him!” And then she made herself scarce in a flash and vanished into thin air. 

Izuku watched bitterly as the last of her sparkles floated to the ground. Let it be known that he was no longer a fan of Kira’s. 

“Katsuki,” Mitsuki’s tone was even, but Izuku still flinched. “Come with me.” She started back through the kitchen without waiting for him to reply. Izuku looked back to see the door to outside right there, maybe if he made a break for it he could make it out before she— 

“Katsuki. Now,” she demanded from further off in the house, voice echoing through the empty halls loud and commanding, zero room for argument. Izuku let out a small whimper and followed as he was told.  

Each step up the stairs felt like a step closer to his execution. Izuku imagined this is what people who were headed to the gallows felt like. Out of options, out of time, hopeless, terrified. His legs were actually shaking and a cold sweat broke out across his hairline as Mitsuki opened a door at the end of a long hallway and gestured for him to head in first. Izuku was not fond of the idea of having his back to her, but the unamused face she gave him at his pause forced his feet to move.  

Once inside he realized it was the master bedroom. Mitsuki shut the door behind them and the click was like a gunshot with the way it deafened Izuku while simultaneously making him want to crumple to his knees.  

“God, I want to kick your little disrespectful ass so bad,” she growled threateningly from her less than ideal spot behind him. 

Kacchan’s body seemed to be tense automatically, ready for her to begin lashing out verbal and physical assaults alike. He felt her presence approaching, heard her small feet padding against the hardwood and he braced himself for impact.  

He didn’t know how to react when Mitsuki only bodily bumped his shoulder with her own and passed him to go stand in front of the large bay windows on the other side of the room. She dropped both her hands down on the window sill, and sighed heavily while her hold on the wood grew tighter. It seemed she was calling on a higher power for strength. Whether it was to obliterate Izuku with or to control herself was still concerningly unclear. 

She rose stiffly a minute or two later and clasped her hands at the small of her back. It appeared she deemed that a safe spot for them for the time being.  

“But I can smell the teenage angst rolling off of you, and if you think you’re petty adolescent bullshit gives you the right to treat me the way you have been recently, you’ve got another thing coming,” she said calmly. 

“So, we’re going to have a little chat to set things straight, instead. Come here,” she said just above a whisper, and it was stern but not nearly as angry as Izuku would have expected. 

Even so, Izuku was still afraid. Just like with Katsuki, having Mitsuki speak in gentle tones had the opposite affect it was supposed to. The shades were halfway drawn so the orange of the currently setting sun were cutting across her stark profile in broken increments, shadows covered her face intermittently.  

The room felt hot and cold at the same time. Bright with the last of the day’s rays and dark with the foreboding aura Mitsuki was radiating. The whole scene was feeling very Godfather-esque and Izuku shuddered, because he knew how that movie ended. 

He cautiously moved to stand by her side, glanced over at her profile momentarily before following her gaze down to the backyard. Nothing spectacular was happening. Just the crew beginning to stir again. Twilight dimming the horizon. Mitsuki was doing some exaggerated inhales and exhales still and it was really beginning to creep Izuku out.  

He stayed quiet and watched the sky fade into the first few shades of magenta as he waited, sweat dripped down his back with the anticipation of what Mitsuki was going to do. She was already off script, since he wasn’t currently down on the floor blocking his head from dangerous blows. There was no precedent with which to compare this foreign behavior, so Izuku was lost. 

Ok, ok. Just be Kacchan. It’s not that hard, what would he do? Maybe I should start? No. Kacchan said to only speak when spoken to, he knows better than to start anything with her. But how long do I wait? Is she waiting on me to say something? Sorry? He said not to let my guard down. Does Kacchan even apologiz— 

“Do you understand why you aren’t in a coma right now?” She started plainly. “Why I’m graciously allowing you the luxury of continuing to breathe without the help of machines?” Mitsuki asked as if she were inquiring about the weather, conversationally, like this was a question normal people just asked, like Izuku should answer just as nonchalantly. 

But Izuku did not answer, not sure how to answer, because what the hell. Thankfully it seemed it was a rhetorical question anyway, because Mitsuki continued on without his response. 

“It’s because your father asked me to,” she stated bluntly. “I didn’t want this party, but he did. He wanted a special day for the two of us. Which apparently cannot be carried out properly if I end up in jail for killing you, so I’m indulging him. Do you know why?” She lifted an eyebrow and slid her gaze over to him without moving her head. She ended up answering her own question again, moved her gaze back out to the yard. “Because he indulges me every other day of the year.” 

Mitsuki seemed to think for a moment before she added, “Well, you mostly have your father to thank, but also partially the breathing exercises my therapists insists I use,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s stupid, but five-months-ago-Mitsuki would’ve skinned you alive before you even thought about ringing that doorbell, so I suppose they do seem to work.” The sharp smile that she tried to fight down at the idea did nothing to calm Izuku’s nerves.  

Izuku tried not to think about that possible outcome too hard and made a mental note to add Mitsuki’s therapist to his list of unsung heroes. 

Izuku took a deep breath and decided to follow up on her original statement. “Indulge?” He asked in a tone of voice that is a million times softer than anything Kacchan would ever use, especially in the presence of his mother. But he was curious and desperately wanted to steer the conversation away from potential maiming, so he broke character momentarily. 

Mitsuki was thrown. It was obvious in the way her burning eyes lanced through him distrustfully. That was the first time he’d spoken directly to her all day and she looked just as surprised as Izuku was at his choice for his first response.  

“Yes…” Mitsuki narrowed her eyes, red irises dancing as she scanned his face for a tell at what kind of game he was trying to play. “Relationships are about give and take. Compromise.” She paused momentarily to look down again at the yard and Izuku looked back with her this time. 

Kacchan was down there, now fully clothed. Izuku’s heart swelled with pride at seeing how his body now filled out the hand-me-down suit that used to dwarf him.  His heart also swelled with something else as he heard the muffled laugh of Kacchan as he tried to fend off Inko’s fussing over his tie. That bright smile tugged at his insides harshly. Kacchan’s body seemed to be at war with itself. Seeing those freckled cheeks and guileless eyes seemed to make Kacchan’s body want to swoon as well as smash his face in. Draw him in tight and blast him away. 

Why is he fighting these feeling so hard? 

Izuku didn’t realize he’d been thoroughly caught up in the enigma of a human being in front of him until Mitsuki cleared her throat and he looked up to find her watching him watching Kacchan. He cleared his throat as well and looked away sharply.   

Mitsuki hummed curiously before continuing. “People like us tend to take more than we give. Or that’s what people who can’t see past our brash exterior would have you believe. But in reality we give just as much as we take, just not in the conventional ways most people are used to. Instead of grand displays of love and affection, we’re…” she waved her hands, searching for the right words. “Fiercely protective? Aggressively supportive? Oh, I don’t know, Katsuki. We’re still driven to do the best for he people we care about by the same things as everyone else, we just express it in unusual ways. It’s not a bad thing. Our love language is just—different. I barely get it. But people like your father do, and love us despite it.”

Izuku was not prepared for the turn this encounter had taken. This was a very roundabout way of getting to understand more of Kacchan’s emotional state, but he’d take what he could get at this point. 

Mitsuki moved away from the window and sauntered over to the chair in front of her vanity, put her hands on the back of it and looked at him expectantly. “Sit,” she ordered and gestured with a jerk of her chin to the seat. 

They locked eyes the entire time Izuku made his way over. When he sat down and looked in the mirror matching eyes locked again in the mirror as they continued to stare one another down through the glass. 

“What do you see?” 

Izuku, personally, thought this was a very interesting starting point, but he knew Kacchan would not feel the same. So he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, broke eye contact to glare at the scattering of beauty products laid out in front of him. “This is so stupid. If you have something to say just spit it out alrea—” 

A smack upside the head had his eyes jumping back to the mirror to find Mitsuki’s again and Kacchan’s body snarled on instinct. 

“My patience with you is already unbelievably thin. It would be wise of you not to push me,” she hissed. “Answer the question.” 

Izuku glared at her for a few seconds longer for acting’s sake, because if he weren’t parading around as her son he’d be ready to beg for her forgiveness. But after a few beats he turned his gaze over to the boy staring back at him.  

What do I see? What does Kacchan see when he looks in the mirror? 

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. And Mitsuki looked ready to argue until she saw the true uncertainty in his eyes. Her face softened ever so slightly. 

“I read your speech, Katsuki,” she said, looking at him seriously. 

Izuku didn’t know how to respond because he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. At the lack of an answer she fished out a piece of paper with Kacchan’s neat handwriting from one of the drawers in front of them. She handed it to him gently. It wasn’t long, but it might have been if half of it hadn’t been scratched out. It was titled ‘Making Hard to Love Look Easy’. 

“I found it in your desk when you weren’t answering my calls and I was trying to see if I could find something to tell me what was going on with you,” she gave him a reproachful look at his antics that Izuku doesn't even cower at because he was still lost in the handful of soft paragraphs about love and relationships he was being made to believe were written by Kacchan’s hand.  

When he still didn't respond Mitsuki continued on. “I know I forced you to write it for tonight, but you seemed to really take the assignment to heart…and I actually think it’s perfect. I hope you didn’t decide to write something different. Your father would really enjoy that.” 

Whoa, whoa, wait. I’m reading this? Tonight? In front of others? Kacchan was going to do this?

A soft hand found his hair and ruffled it. “And for the record,” she pointed to the page in his hand. “We aren’t hard to love. Loving us just isn’t for the weak of heart. People may not believe it, but your father’s just as bullheaded as me, and maybe even a bit more insane,” she chuckled fondly. “But he gets me and doesn’t ask me to change myself to make others comfortable. His love has always been unconditional. That’s why he's the only one I’ve ever really been able to connect with. And I’m beginning to think that may be the case for you,” she paused, a tender smile on her lips. “With Izuku.” 

Izuku’s head finally snapped up from the script in front of him to gawk at Mitsuki. It took him a second to remember he was supposed to be reacting accordingly and that wanting to break down and cry was not the correct reaction.  

Who the hell was this person being so docile and motherly and what had they done with Mitsuki? And what is she even saying?

“What?” Izuku drew his brows together and went on the defensive like Kacchan always does when confronted with his feelings, and it wasn’t hard. His body was already prepared to flee at the first spike in his heart rate at hearing Izuku’s name coming from his mother’s mouth in that soft, understanding tone. This is obviously the type of conversation Kacchan avoided like the plague (not that Izuku needed to switch bodies with him to know that). 

He curled his upper lip and said what he’d heard from Kacchan for years upon years. “Who the fuck would want that loser?” It burned all the way out, but it had to be said. 

Mitsuki sucked her teeth. “I’m not blind, Katsuki. I see the way you two have been looking at each other. I was there on the front porch when you two were inches apart. He’s always made you crazy and I never for the life of me could understand why. Until today.”  

“I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about,” he snarled. And he didn’t. Where was Mitsuki getting all of this from? Sure, Kacchan had a few sex dreams about Izuku, but a relationship? Love? Izuku refused to get his hopes up like that. Entertaining those thoughts would only lead to heartbreak, he’d been down that road with him many times before. Enough to know better. 

Mitsuki just sighed. “I know you think finding someone like Dad for you is probably impossible. But I’m just trying to tell you, you’ve already got someone so much closer than you realize. So, don’t bite my head off, damn.” 

Izuku went back to looking at the note in his hand, eyebrows furrowed.  

Mitsuki put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. “I know your dad is usually the one you go to for stuff like this, but I hope I made it clear that I’m here to talk to as well.” Izuku considered her reflection for a moment, then gave a single tentative nod. 

“Good. I’m still fucking pissed, but you’re also still my kid, and I love you. So, I hope this helps with whatever you’re going through,” she kissed his temple before pulling back just a bit to whisper in his ear. “But if you think I’m not going to rip you a new one if you fuck up this party just because we had a little heart to heart, you’ve got another thing coming. You are notorious for causing scenes at these types of events and I’m here to tell you if you so much as speak out of turn tonight it’ll be your ass. You are still on very thin ice, so tread lightly.”

Her nails bit into his skin leaving little crescent moons across his still bare shoulders, just in case her point wasn’t already crystal clear enough. She moved to pat his cheek sweetly but there was enough force behind it that the threat was still felt. All sympathy ended in that moment. 

Ah, there she is. And the overwhelming sense of dread is back as well. Wonderful. 

“Now, get the hell out of my room,” she waved him off as she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.  

Izuku wasted no time flinging himself out the door. He rushed to the other end of the hall and threw himself into Kacchan’s childhood room. He leaned all his weight on the door before sliding to the ground and marveled at what'd just happened.   

I did it! One-on-one with Mitsuki and I’m still alive! Not that I was actually fighting for my life or anything like I definitely thought I would be, but a win is a win!  

Izuku could seriously cry. In an interesting turn of events he’d managed to not only get on Mitsuki’s good side (maybe), but may have also possibly discovered why Kacchan is so against letting his walls down. 

He thinks he’s hard to love… 

Izuku smoothed out the paper he’d been given and looked it over like he was seeing the Holy Grail in the flesh. It was feelings. Kacchan’s feelings. Written out and actually comprehensible. A blessed glimpse inside that maze of a brain of his. Some inkling of understanding of how his mind works…and here Izuku was, expected to have to share it with others in less than a few hours. 

Izuku tightened his grip on the page and watched the paper crinkle, threatening to rip. He wanted to hoard this treasure for himself, take it and lock it away for no one else to see. Not read it out loud to a bunch of strangers who didn't deserve it, who wouldn’t even appreciate it.

Oh, God, he had to read it out loud.  

Did Kacchan even remember writing this? Izuku can’t imagine his reaction to having his private, innermost emotions broadcasted would be positive. Yeah, he wrote them down for this speech, but Mitsuki even said she didn’t know if he wrote another. This one has redactions and strikethroughs all over it, who’s to say his final product would be this personal? Maybe he could convince Mitsuki to only let him read it to Masaru personally. 

No, you’ve made it past her once today. Very low probability of that happening again without physical damage being done. Steer clear. 

Or maybe he should just chance trying to out his true self regardless of Kacchan’s warnings? Then he’d be free to be unconscious for the remainder of the party. 

There’s an idea...Make it seem like an accident so Kacchan doesn’t kill me after the fac— 

The door bumping him in the back as someone tried to barge in broke him out of his mumbling with a start.  

“Nerd, open the fuck up. I told your mom I’d be back. I probably only have like a five minute window before she starts knocking down doors to smother me again, so hurry the hell up!” Kacchan demanded frantically. 

Izuku jumped to his feet, haphazardly folded the speech, and shoved it deep into his pants pocket just before Kacchan barged in. Izuku tried to look chill, like he wasn’t just invading all of Kacchan’s privacy, but Kacchan paid him almost no mind regardless. He slammed the door shut behind him and became the new occupant of Izuku’s previous spot on the floor.

He threw his head back against the door and covered his face with gnarled, scared hands, and let out a long, tired exhale. 

Izuku quirked a brow. “I thought you had her handled?” 

Kacchan peeked through the gaps in his fingers to narrow his eyes at Izuku. “She won’t stop crying about how she was never able to give you a life like this,” he gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “A two income household and a stable relationship to aspire to, or some shit— which is a fucking laugh by the way. Who the fuck looks at my family and sees stable?” 

Izuku’s stomach twisted at his words. His mom always got like this at these types of things and he’s kind of embarrassed Kacchan had to hear about it.  

He turned away to begin shuffling through drawers to find spare underthings. “Yeah, she always wanted me to have more to look up to than I did. A solid relationship, a strong male role model—” 

“And that!” Kacchan cut in. “I had to sit there and listen to her sob about not giving you a proper role model to look up to, ‘like Masaru’,” he mimicked her voice and scoffed. 

“Is she serious?" he demanded. "Like your shitty father leaving wasn’t the best thing that could’ve happened to you. Like it didn’t make you stronger and more compassionate and fuck—you didn’t have half the shit I did growing up and you still turned out fuckin’perf—” Kacchan caught himself when Izuku half looked over his shoulder with raised brows. He cleared his throat and tried again.  

“I didn’t like the way she kept referring to you like she failed you or that you could’ve turned out better if you weren’t raised by a single mom, that shit was stupid. And your body? Just deflated in on itself, I’ve never felt weaker inside of it and its seriously pissing me off. You’ve busted your ass and proven yourself despite him leaving and despite all the assholes telling you what you couldn’t do…” He paused and his face looked flushed as he continued. “Including me,” he mumbled. Izuku's eyebrows rose higher.

“Anyway. Neither of you give you enough credit, and I’m sick of her forcing me to listen to it, because its bullshit.” The last bit was mumbled so lowly Izuku thought he’d imagined it, but Kacchan’s cheeks were stained pink and Izuku realized all that had really just come out of Kacchan’s mouth. There were compliments in there, defensive words, and was he hallucinating or was he trying to be encouraging?  

Maybe sex isn’t all there is to this. Maybe he did care. 

Maybe Mitsuki…was right?  

Her words from earlier stuck out clearly now: “Instead of grand displays of love and affection, we’re…fiercely protective? Aggressively supportive?...We just express our feelings in unusual ways. It’s not a bad thing, our love language is just—different.” 

Izuku resolutely turned back to the drawers to hide his quickly heating cheeks. He cleared his throat and beat down the urge to start freaking out at the fact that this might actually be happening, because he was sure that wouldn’t go over well, and instead offered his own tale of woe.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had to deal with your mom’s attempt at comfort? While simultaneously having my life threatened, so.” He let out a forced laugh as he triumphantly held up a change of underwear. 

“Holy shit, she got you alone?” Kacchan stood up and crossed the room in an instant to examine him. “You look fine. Did she not get a hit in? Did you run? How do you not have a single scratch on you?” He reached out to run his fingers over Izuku’s arms in confusion, but looking up to interrogate him further he realized just how close they’d gotten and he drew his hands back like he’d been burned. 

Izuku ignored the small spark down his spine at the brief moment of those calloused hands on his skin. “I’m fine. She just wanted to…um, talk…” 

They both stood there, less than a foot apart and stared at each other in silence. Izuku shifted his weight awkwardly with his newly acquired attire in his arms, waited for Kacchan to say something, or hopefully leave, so he could change without an audience and so he could be alone with his revelations. But Kacchan just continued to stare at him blankly and it was unnerving. 

“Ok…well, I need to change so—” 

“Talk about what?” Kacchan suddenly asked, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a firm line. 

“Uh…nothing important—” 

“Nothing important, but she chose to talk to you about it rather than kick your ass? Try again, Deku.” He cocked his head to the side and inched closer. 

“You really want to know?”  

“No,” he gave him a flat look. “I just enjoy wasting my breath on rhetorical questions.” 

“You don’t have to be such an ass all the time, you know.” 

“Deku.” It was clipped and the last wavering bit of his patience could be heard dying. 

Izuku took a deep breath. 

Fine. 

“She thinks you’ve been avoiding her about things regarding your parent’s anniversary because you’re struggling with a relationship of your own that you deem similar to theirs,” Izuku said the whole thing in a rush and then added, much softer, “Your relationship with…me?” 

There. He said it. Kacchan asked, and he told him, and now he’s cinched his eyes closed and is waiting for his face to get caved in.  

So, when a few beats go by with no reaction, he cracked an eye open to find Kacchan staring at him blankly again. 

“What?” He said and it was almost a growl. 

Izuku stood up a bit straighter, not to be scared off by is icy tone, and attempted to rephrase. “She thinks you see our relationship in their relationship and that it’s freaking you out. So she showed mercy today thinking you needed a confidant rather than an executioner, thank God.” 

Judging by the growing fury in Kacchan’s eyes Izuku didn't think he even heard the last part of his statement, only the relationship bit.

“And what do you think, shitty Deku? That she’s right?” 

Izuku was beginning to get marginally pissed. Kacchan had asked, so he doesn’t understand why he’s being such a dick. “Well, when she laid it out the way she did, yeah. I do, actually,” he stated firmly. 

Kacchan scoffed and gave a condescending bark of a laugh before he turned away from him. “Well you’re both fucking delusional if you think—” 

“Are we, though?”  

Kacchan whipped around, looked a bit crazed. “What are you trying to say?” 

Izuku had grown tired of this argument. The day had already been ridiculously long and emotionally draining. There was no reason this couldn't wait until they get back to the dorms. Or at the very least away from their parents.  

“Forget I said anything,” Izuku said dismissing the line of questioning entirely. “Now, if you could just leave so I could change, that’d be great. I’ll be down to greet guests in a few minutes.” 

“Fuck that. Say what you were going to fucking say,” Kacchan snarled. 

“Why should I when you won’t hear it? I’m not wasting my breath on this right now, Kacchan. Just go.”  

He pushed Izuku up against dresser, ignoring his request, and properly boxed him in, arms on either side of his waist. Izuku caught his burning viridian gaze and matched it.  

“Say. It.”  

Their stare down was intense, the crackling tension was almost palpable as Izuku weighed his options. 

Say it and risk them taking several steps back (when they had yet to barely even move forward), or don’t say it and continue this game of stop and go for who knew how long... 

Izuku knew he should just hold off this conversation for another time, but he just wanted to say it so bad, God, it was on the tip of his tongue. And it had been ever since Mitsuki had planted the idea in his head. One devious seed that had managed to not only fully take root there, but overrun it with blooms of delusional possibilities.  

Of Kacchan caring. Of him fighting his feelings because he thought he was unworthy. Of him seeing Izuku as anything other than the useless nerd he’d always sworn Izuku was… 

“Fine,” he gritted out. Izuku had moved his mouth to speak and Kacchan’s gaze fell down to it immediately, stared at his lips like he would savor every last word.  

He wants me to say it? I’ll say it. 

Izuku gripped Kacchan’s jaw hard and didn’t dare blink. There was an unmistakable look of apprehension simmering under Kacchan’s standard defensive mechanism of rage. A quiet desperation cracking through the tough guy mask for Izuku to finally just lay it all out there for him, so he wouldn’t have to do it, wouldn’t have to confess to anything. 

Just sit there and let Izuku draw conclusions himself, gauge his reactions and respond accordingly. Because Kacchan was nervous. Scared that Izuku might reject him if he said something first. Mitsuki hinted at it earlier and now seeing the pleading behind the angry front, Izuku knew she was right in her assumptions. 

Kacchan’s leaving the ball in Izuku’s court so as not to mess up his chances. Which was, admittedly, kind of cute and sweet in a Kacchan kind of way, but the stupid nuances in this situation and all the tip-toeing around just made Izuku want to scream it all the more.  

Their tentative development be damned. Izuku was a lot of things but he wasn't a coward. And if Kacchan wouldn't say it, he would. 

You want me.  

You. Want. Me. 

YOU want ME! 

Izuku tightened his grip on Kacchan’s jaw and the muscles there tensed as Kacchan grit his teeth, preparing himself, fight or flight instincts probably raged within him, but Izuku wasn’t giving him an out. Not this time. He leaned the rest of the way into Kacchan’s space, a whisper away now, and fought down the full body shiver Kacchan’s body was experiencing at their proximity, so he could spit out the truth Kacchan had been hiding from since this whole fiasco started. 

 “You want—” 

“Boooyysss!” A disembodied voice that was seriously beginning piss Izuku off rang through the air. 

“Your mother’s are calling for you downstairsss!” The voice sing-songed as a flare of blinding sparkles illuminated the darkening room. Kira’s impish face popped up mere inches away from their own.

Kacchan backed up automatically with a string of colorful curses, and Izuku let him go reluctantly, the pivotal moment effectively ruined. His side eye was livid as he regarded Kira like the enemy she now was.  

Two betrayals in less than hour? Yeah, she was definitely on his shit list. 

Kira seemed to finally realize she’d interrupted something. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! They asked me to find you two and I heard you up here because, you know, excellent hearing, like I said,” she pointed to her ear again, smiling as she bragged on herself. “But I didn’t think I’d be interrupting—” 

“You didn’t interrupt shit,” Kacchan growled, but it was quiet and there was zero heat behind it. “I’m out of here,” he grumbled, his face equally irritated and Izuku wanted to say disappointed, but that might have just been wishful thinking. 

“Kacchan, wait,” he tried, but of course he didn’t listen. He didn’t even look back at Izuku before ducking out the door, leaving him and the new bane of his existence alone. 

He turned to Kira to rip into her, just to find her smug face staring back at him. “That looked like a pretty intimate moment, Bakugou…’Not together’, huh?” 

Izuku sneered at her, thoroughly fed up with her antics for the day, “Butt. Out,” he hissed. 

“Geez, sorry I asked,” she laughed despite his clearly waning temper. “Anyway! Guests are here. You’ve got like an hour before dinner starts, then another thirty after that before your speech! Might want to make your way to the sound crew for your mic a few minutes before that, though,” she tapped her chin, thinking hard. “Hmm…there was one more thing…Oh, yeah! You’re mom said: ‘If he’s not down here in five minutes, all bets are off’. That was like three minutes ago?  I have no idea what that means, but she looked pretty angr—” 

Izuku stood ramrod straight and began shoving her out the open door. “What? Why didn’t you lead with that? You’re the worst! Get out, get out! I have to change—she’s going to kill me—go!” 

She spun as he finally got her out the door and gave him a dry look. “You know, you’re getting kind of pushy, kid. I’m just doing my jo—” 

Izuku slammed the door in her face. 

Two minutes later found Izuku haphazardly dressed and running down the stairs still hopping to get his shoes back on and his shirt tucked in properly. He made it to the landing of the staircase and shoved his arms into his suit jacket just as Mitsuki was coming around the corner to head up, no doubt to find him. 

She looked peeved, but it wasn’t as malicious as usual because people were now milling about the house, chatting and laughing, and she couldn’t let her true form known in polite company. 

Good to know everyone’s pretending to be something they’re not. 

The sun was low in the sky when Izuku followed a group of people out onto the back porch, casting long shadows from the trees behind the house and setting the whole sky a lavish blood orange with indigo slowly bleeding in from the horizon. 

The whole scene outside was like something out of a fairytale. All the tables were decorated with extravagant arrangements of beautiful flora, soft off-white linen was draped dramatically over the dozen or so tables that were set up in the grass. Hundreds of candles softly illuminated the backyard. Creating the walkway down the porch steps, on the tables, little tea light candles setting on staged lilly pads in the pool, floating on top of the water’s surface delicately. 

Everything was spectacular, really, but the gazebo was by far and away the most magical. And Izuku’s not just saying that because they’d spent most of the day preparing it.  It was definitely the center of attention for a reason.  

The guy who decorated it was amazing. A bulky brute of a man that Izuku would’ve never guessed had a green thumb Quirk turned the usually bland, average, centerpiece of the night into something so much more.  

A curtain of cascading white wisteria curtained the entire circumference, but parted at the center of the entryway arch, allowing for a peek inside to see string lights shedding a soft glow on the brilliant vines blooming with exotic flowers Izuku had never seen before wrapped up and around the support beams. Tasteful moss and ferns bloomed around the base of it with more candles illuminating the walkway up to its steps.  

All the pieces put together with the promise of night on the horizon and stars beginning to sprinkle the sky had Izuku blown away. It was maybe a bit excessive, but it was also alluring, and enchanting, and romantic…and he begrudgingly had to hand it to Kira, she could throw one hell of a themed party—even if she was simultaneously the thief of all joy. 

Her and Mitsuki really knew how to make an idea come to life. The whole scene felt alive and warm and Izuku hadn’t even realized he’d been holding up the line for people to reach their seats until Mitsuki subtly snatched his wrist in an iron grip and dragged him along over the threshold to outside.  

He accidentally bumped into the gift table that was now filling with colorful boxes and bags and a large China vase wobbled slightly. 

“Watch it,” Mitsuki snapped. “That’s from your grandparents. They got it for their twentieth and its priceless.” 

Izuku considered it as she continued to drag him through the crowd just to drop him off in the middle of a group of complete strangers. 

“Mingle,” she hissed before addressing their group. “You all remember my son, Katsuki!” And then she was gone, leaving him to juggle being Kacchan while somehow also behaving with manners at the same time. Which, for the record, is practically impossible.  

He managed, though, but just barely. Grunting and conversing just enough to pass as acceptable, but not enough to raise any suspicion. It was tedious work. And by the time Kira’s crew began herding people to their respective tables for dinner he was ready to collapse from the mental strain he’d put himself through. 

He slumped into his assigned seat next to Mitsuki and decided to be ‘brooding Kacchan’ so he wouldn’t have to speak to the people coming to sit down next to them. He leaned into his scowl and resolutely looked anywhere but the faces of the new members of their circle. It seemed to be working fine. Mitsuki didn’t appear to mind since she was chatting up someone with Masaru, and everyone else had made conversation amongst themselves.  

This is too easy. Just have to get through the speech and I’m home free! 

Izuku had to catch himself from outwardly smiling. Although not for long, because when Kacchan and Mom took their seats across from him the urge to smile slipped away effortlessly. 

“What are they doing here?” 

Mitsuki examined her nails and looked entirely too indifferent to be trusted. “Inko is one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t let her sit with some group of strangers.” 

“You were fine with idea before our talk earlier. I saw the seating chart,” Izuku hissed. “What are you trying to—“ 

“Inko!” She disregarded him completely and waved across the table. “You look fabulous in the dress, what a lovely color. And Izuku you look so nice, too. Doesn’t he look good, Katsuki?” 

She doesn’t even look at him when she asked, just continued to smile at the pair across from them as Izuku gawked. Whipping his head to turn and catch Kacchan looking equally as horrified. They both blushed furiously and tried to talk over each other in a sputtering mess. Kacchan had to catch himself from dropping the ‘f’ bomb more than once. 

Finally Izuku regained a bit of his composure to grit out, “Fine. He looks fine. He’s fine,” in a clipped-off hiss that held up with his Kacchan rouse as well as letting Mitsuki know to drop whatever she was doing.  

We don’t need anything else making today ridiculously awkward! Can she just not be the way that she is for once in her life, please?! 

But it seemed she either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care, because she replied in a carefree hum. “He is, isn’t he?”  

Kacchan choked on the sip of water he’d just taken and Izuku wanted to sink into the Earth. Thankfully the food dropped in front of them at that exact moment and she blessedly turned her attention over to the waiter. Izuku chanced a look at Kacchan and he was pointedly looking anywhere but at Izuku. It probably didn’t help the Izuku's poor mother was asking him what all that was about. Because how would he even begin to explain the absolute mess they were in currently? And not just because of the swap Quirk's regulations… 

He and Kacchan were both uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal. They picked at the dishes in front of them as people conversed around them, unaware of the inner turmoil they both were experiencing.

Movement in Izuku’s periphery broke him out of the downward spiral his brain was circling in. It was Kira pointing him in the direction of the DJ and he resisted the urge to crawl under the table and hide. 

The speech.  

He never did get to talk to Kacchan about it. Not that it would’ve really made a difference in how things turned out, he didn't think. They probably still would have been tip-toeing around each other at dinner if he’d confronted Kacchan with actual proof of his feelings for him in the form of a love letter in his own handwriting. Izuku can’t imagine any world where that wouldn’t end in threats to his life and property damage.  

He got up wordlessly, regardless, without sparing a glance at anyone he was sitting with, so as to keep what little composure he had left. He marched mechanically over to the sound booth set up on the side of the porch. He stood still as the guy attached a small wireless mic to the lapel of his jacket. 

“Ok, man, these are pretty dope. Made ‘em myself! Super easy. No wires or buttons or anything, just tap it once to turn it on and twice to turn it off, cool?” 

Izuku nodded numbly, barely registered what the guy was saying as he made his way towards the gazebo slowly. His heart was racing. He wasn’t one for public speaking as it was, but now he was Kacchan, speaking at his parent’s anniversary party, reading a speech he probably never intended for Izuku to hear. He had to stop Kacchan’s body from starting small eruptions from the excess sweat his hands were now producing.  

The soft background music cut off suddenly and Izuku had to consciously think about breathing.  

“Alriiight! Please welcome Masaru and Mitsuki’s son, Katsuki, up! He has a few words he’d like to share, so let’s hear it for him!” The DJ instructed enthusiastically.

The party collectively gave a small round of applause as Izuku made his way up the steps of the beautifully made up gazebo. He looked over at his table just long enough to see Kacchan staring at him. His eyes were comically wide and he looked a bit nauseous.  

Ah, so he had forgotten about the speech. Great. 

Izuku felt his stomach churn. He wanted Kacchan to share his feelings freely, not have them forced out into the open against his will like this, but his hands were pretty much tied at this point. He broke eye contact to fish the paper out of his pocket. He smoothed it out a bit and focused hard on keeping the explosions threatening to pop at bay, so as not to light the precious words on fire.  

Izuku cleared his throat and tapped the mic on his chest once, as instructed, and a small green light popped up. He looked down at the crumpled sheet and began timidly. Taking care to read around the scratched out portions the best he could. 

“I’m usually told to sit down and shut the fuck up at these kind of things. But I was asked to say a few words, so bear with me. I’ll keep it short. I know you all only came for the food anyway you greedy bastards.” 

The crowd chuckled and Mitsuki rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips as she looped her arm through Masaru’s. Izuku loosened up a tad at the group’s reaction to the comedic anecdote.  

“Most of you know me. I’m crass, and brash, and…basically an ass, but you all have to know—I got it from the hag my mom, I swear. She’s one of the most intimidating, demanding, and relentless people I know. And for those of you confused by what I’m saying, you’re probably new, just give it a couple months. She’s a menace. 

And then there’s my dad. Who is arguably the complete opposite of this woman. And as I was growing up I used to think: ‘What bet did this poor son of a bitch bastard lose to end up stuck with her?’” 

The crowd laughed again. Even Mitsuki laughed despite the jabs. Masaru just shook his head and tried to hide his snickering. Mitsuki pinched his side in mock horror at his agreeance, and Izuku couldn’t help the smile that quirked his mouth up at the corners as he watched them.  He waited for the audience to settle down before continuing. 

“But the older I got, and the more I realized I was my mother’s son, the less I felt like my dad got the short end of the stick and more like my mom was the luckiest person on the planet.  

To be able to find someone, not only brave enough, but understanding enough, to put up with her and her bipolar ass wild mood swings and not try to modify her or ‘make her better'. 

He made hard to love look so easy because he never thought loving her was hard.  

 Then, looking even deeper, I realized my dad was the lucky one, too. Because he happens to be the only person who seems to understand her, God knows I’ve tried, he gets access to the sweetest and most loving parts of her. Something solely reserved for him…and that’s actually kind of special.” 

Mitsuki squeezed Masaru’s arm and he pressed a sweet kiss to her temple. They both looked more in love than ever.  

Izuku couldn’t help but think back to all the moments earlier today that proved Kacchan’s observations. Mitsuki had been a tyrant to everyone today—the staff, Kira, the boys…but never Masaru. Even when he was the only one actively working against her, she was never anything but playful and kind (well, her brand of kind) to him.  

And Masaru in return never lost his temper with Mitsuki, despite her avid attempts at riling him up. They were quite the pair to behold. 

“They balance one another in a way I’m coming to realize is much more important than finding someone who’s just like you. Their differences and ability to understand that the other’s weaknesses are their strengths, and their willingness to love unconditionally is something to aspire to.  

They’re an unstoppable team. 

And maybe one day I’ll be lucky enough to have a bond like that with him someone, too.” 

Izuku jolted at the last strikethrough and whipped his head up to find the eyes he’d been avoiding in the sea of bodies before him since he’d gotten up on stage. It was dark now, but the verdant eyes that shone with the help of the soft candlelight were like beacons for Izuku to hone in on. Kacchan was already staring through him and they just looked at one another, waiting for some kind of reaction from the other to know how to proceed.  

Kacchan’s mouth was in a tight line and his brows were drawn together, but he looked like he had in the bedroom earlier. Anxious, yet hopeful with a pink dusting high across his cheekbones. And Izuku was beginning to blush himself. 

Kacchan really wrote this. And really put a lot of time and effort into it. And was thinking about me while he was writing it. Holy crap, Mitsuki was right. I already knew that, but now it’s like really real. It’s really happening, oh my God.  

Realization hit him so hard he was dizzy with it.

It wasn’t ‘you want me’, it was ‘you want to be with me’. 

Izuku swallowed thickly. Physical attraction he could understand, he guessed, but a relationship? If there was any way this all could have been fabricated as some kind of cruel joke, Izuku would jump at that opportunity to make sense of just what the hell was happening here.

But there was no way that was a possibility. Kacchan actually thought they could be an ‘unstoppable team’ like his parents. Since when? 

The internal panic was probably written all over his face and Kacchan must have taken it as a negative reaction to his unspoken question of: well, you in or not? Because he crossed his arms and broke eye contact to glare at the ground, looking properly dejected.  

Izuku wanted to explain his confusion, but a cough in the audience had him blinking out of the trance he and Kacchan had been caught up in. He quickly noticed everyone still looking at him expectantly, with soft smiles on their faces. 

All except two.  

Kira was smirking at him as she looked back and forth between the two boys knowingly. Mitsuki was giving him a similar face, looking way too satisfied with herself before she gestured for him to wrap it up. 

Izuku shook his head and cleared his throat again. He could now feel the flush all the way down his neck, but he managed to finish the speech without any other hiccups.  

“Anyway, none of us would be here if this lunatic of a man hadn’t risked his life by agreeing to said yes to this batshit crazy woman’s demand to go out with him all those years ago. So, cheers to a first date planned through arm-twisting coercion that then turned into a marriage only their offspring actually understand.  

Happy anniversary, maniacs. I—love you—or whatever.” 

Izuku tapped the mic twice, folded the paper back up, and bowed awkwardly. Heavy clapping and rounds of laughter and whistles resounded as he lifted himself back up. He gave a wobbly half smile as he headed off stage and back towards his table…where Kacchan was nowhere to be found.

Izuku continued to stand when he reached his group again and looked around to try and see where he'd gone. A hand on his shoulder stopped his search momentarily. 

“That was wonderful, son. Thank you,” Masaru said tenderly. Mitsuki looked at him approvingly for the first time all day and Izuku finally felt like he could actually relax.  

Mitsuki tugged on Masaru’s arm, before Izuku could say anything in response, to get him to follow her up to where Izuku had just left, their vow renewals next up on the meticulous itinerary for the evening.  

Izuku was about to give up his search to find Kacchan, deciding he should probably be present for his ‘parent’s’ big moment, when his own mother pulled on his jacket sleeve.

“Katsuki, dear, could you find my son? He’s about to miss the most important part of the night!” she huffed, before backtracking. “No offense! Your speech was lovely. I even teared up at the end!” 

Izuku chuckled. “You cry at everything, mo—Auntie.”

She waggled her finger at him. “Now you sound like Izuku.” 

Izuku gave a nervous laugh.  “I’ll go find the nerd.” 

“Thank you!” 

He gave one last three-sixty at the table to try and spot him and noticed green curls illuminated by the porch lights at the back of the party. He started towards them and the closer he got the more clearly he could hear Kacchan speaking to someone. But once he came up behind him, it was easy to see that he was the only one there. 

“What the fuck do you want—leave me alon—” 

“Kacchan?” Izuku asked hesitantly. 

Kacchan stiffened immediately and rigidly turned to face Izuku, eyes a little wild. Izuku raised his hands up peacefully.  

“I’m busy,” he said before turning back around. He then threw his hands up angrily. “He’s fucking gone again!” 

“Kacchan, there’s still no one here, I—” 

“Don’t start with me Deku. Something weird is going on here. I don’t know why you can’t see him, but he’s fucking here,” he insisted, scanning the vicinity as he spoke.  

“Sure, Kacchan,” he let it go. 

“Don’t ‘sure, Kacchan’ me, asshole. I know what I’m talking abou—” 

“I’m sure you do, Kacchan, but can we please just talk about your speech I just gave first?” Izuku was fed up with whatever this thing Kacchan was hung up on. It wasn’t pertinent to anything right now, and he needed answers. 

Kacchan snapped his mouth shut and sneered. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Izuku crossed his arms and arched a brow. “Really?” He asked, no nonsense in his tone. 

Kacchan’s responding scowl was one for the books, especially since it was accompanied with a deep red Izuku had never seen on his own face before.  

“You knew about that damn speech in the bedroom earlier and were just—what? Fucking with me?” 

“Kacchan, what? No!” Izuku flailed his arms helplessly. “I wanted to talk to you about it, but then we got off track like we always do, and then Kira, and—” 

“You know what? Don’t fucking worry about it. Because I don’t feel that way anymore, anyway,” he sniffed, defensively turning away from Izuku. 

Izuku actually laughed. “Worst part about being in my body? My poker face is garbage. You’re lying through your teeth right now.” 

“Fuck you, Deku.” 

“Oh, believe me, I know you want to.”  

Kacchan moved to leave. “I don’t need this.” 

Izuku caught his arm and dragged him back in. “You started this, Kacchan. Quit pretending with me—” 

Kacchan fought to break free, but Izuku clamped down harder. “Fucking—just drop it, alright? I’m not doing this with you right now. I said I don’t feel that way anymore. End of discussion.” 

Izuku will admit, it kind of stung being rejected like this, but he knew Kacchan was lying and for no other reason than spite at his point, he wanted to prove it. 

“Yeah? Your mom’s only been planning this party for a month, and we’ve been like this for less than a week. So you’re telling me in the three week window you had to write the speech, you fell out of love with me?” 

Kacchan snatched out of his hold and slammed his palms into Izuku’s chest hard, pushing him back a few feet.  If Izuku were smart, he would’ve noticed the small green light blink on in response to the shove.  

“Who the—fuck—said I was in love with you?” 

Izuku rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, that’s right I’m just some worthless nobody to you, right?” Izuku laughed bitterly. “That’s bullshit and we both know it. I’ve always made you feel something stronger than anyone else. Tell me I’m wrong.” Izuku shoved him back just as hard, and he stumbled back, shocked.

Glitter that was now blinding in the night’s darkness rained down suddenly and Izuku could feel his ire rising when the high pitched voice sounded right next to them. He barely noticed his hands starting to smoke. 

“Yoooo, tiny friends. Not to break up the love fest or anything, but they can hea—”  

Izuku didn’t even look away from Kacchan when he screamed at Kira. "Fuck off! We know you have ‘exceptional hearing’. Go bother someone else with your D-list Quirk. " 

And again, if Izuku was smart, he would have heard her mutter bitterly, “Don’t need exceptional hearing when you’re screaming into an active mic.” Before leaving with no further intentions of trying to save them from causing a scene. 

But he was too caught up in their argument, and it seemed he was the only one to even pay her any mind anyway, because Kacchan got up in his face and continued on like nothing had even happened. “Don’t act like it’s just me,” he hissed nastily. “We both know you drool over me any chance you get.” 

Izuku threw his arms out wide, an open book. “I’m not the one denying I have feelings for you!” Izuku’s voice had risen many octaves, his palms sparking dangerously and burning brighter with each new sentence. He distantly realized he was setting off explosions, but couldn’t be bothered to smother them. “I would gladly be the other half of you ‘perfect team’. I would! I’d be anything. If you’d only grow a pair and just tell me—just let me! God, you’re so fucking stupid sometimes!” He yelled and let off one last final boom that heated the tense air around them. 

And it was true. This whole dance was only even happening because Kacchan refused to admit his feelings, he’d never even asked Izuku about his. Not that it was any real secret. He’d been fawning over Kacchan since they were kids. Even through the bad years, and the fighting, and the rivalry.  

But apparently Kacchan needed to actually hear it to get it through his thick skull, so Izuku had just put himself out there. Screamed some damning words that couldn’t be misconstrued, misinterpreted, or taken back and now Kacchan was just looking at him. Izuku could feel his cheeks heating expeditiously with each second the silence stretched on.  

And it was extremely silent as they both stood there with their chests heaving.

With the constant back and forth they’d been caught up in finally over, things started clicking into place. The green light he saw in the corner of his eye, Kira’s words as she vanished… 

Just as he realized he’d just confessed, screaming into the mic connected to the speakers that surrounded the entirety of the backyard, he heard a loud thud. 

They both quickly turned to find every single set of eyes on them—and Mom passed out on the floor.  

Izuku blanched and looked to where Mitsuki was on stage, already knowing his tentative truce with her was now all but obliterated. She was hand in hand with Masaru who now just looked exhausted—like he’d just aged thirty years in a span of a few seconds.  

They'd probably been right in the middle of their vows, so Izuku knew he wasn’t making it out of this one alive. And when he finally found Mitsuki’s face it was twisted up with all the rage and aggression she’d been reigning in all day just like he figured it would be, and not a second after they’d locked eyes—she lunged.  

Gasps rung out through the guests as Masaru struggled to keep his hold on Mitsuki, who was now hell bent on getting to Izuku. 

Izuku turned to Kacchan pleadingly. “Please tell me you have another plan." 

Kacchan backed away from him, still looking absolutely floored at Izuku’s final statement. Slowly at first, then more quickly the further away he got. “I can’t be here right now.” 

“Kacch—where are you going?” 

“To find that guy or—” he cursed as he bumped into a plant that was now alight with flames due to being so close to Izuku’s detonating hands. “Um—something. Fuck I need—I just—” Izuku watched those jade eyes brim with tears, freckled cheeks go splotchy with color, his body most likely properly overwhelmed at this point. “I gotta go.” 

Izuku watched him basically sprint away from him, as he heard Mitsuki still struggling to maul him in the background.  His eyes shifted back to the burning bush whose flames were rapidly jumping to others, green being overrun by an overwhelming orange all around him. The ominous crackle of the growing inferno somehow only overpowered by the thundering of his own heartbeat. 

This can’t be happening. 

He was shaking as he turned around to face her head on. Finding her eyes again was a mistake, because something in her seemed to finally snap.

She wrenched harder this time to free herself, twisted and thrashed wildly, and when her elbow connected with Masaru’s face all the noise zoned out of Izuku’s ears and time stretched out, the domino effect of his outburst playing out in slow motion. 

The amount of effort Masaru had been exerting to keep Mitsuki at bay worked against him as he let her go to grab his already leaking nose. He fell backwards onto the floor of the gazebo, long limbs knocking over a good amount of the candles there which quickly caught the surrounding plants and wood on fire. 

Two different groups jumped up quickly to try and help with the flames on both sides of the yard, only for one of them to knock their table over and have their own candles create another hotspot. It ate up the table cloth in no time at all and then didn’t hesitate to spread to the dry summer grass.  

And once it touched down on the parched blades everything went up like a match in a violent woosh of heat—before he knew it the entirety of the backyard was glowing a vicious, all-encompassing orange that was devastatingly intense in the bruised black of the night... 

And that’s how he’d ended up cornered against the gift table with nowhere else to go, Mitsuki mere feet away and most likely more than prepared to off her only child. 

Izuku closed his eyes tightly just like he had all those hours ago at the front door and was again awaiting his fate. And just like last time Masaru swooped in at the last second. Disheveled and bleeding he blocked the distance between the problem and the self-appointed solution. Izuku let out a small sob of relief when he firmly stated no to her demand of move or die. 

Masaru Bakugou is a gift too pure for this world. 

He’s an actual saint. 

A hero. 

Izuku wished that gentle giant every kindness. He wished him every joy, and peace. Prayed that he’d only ever know love and happiness. He hoped he lived a long and prosperous life. As well as his children, and his children’s children. He hoped that he’d never know pain or sorrow again. That those big beautiful brown eyes only ever fill with tears in high spirits.  

Izuku moved to flee, took another step back having forgotten his precarious positioning, and felt the dig of the gift table in his back a second too late. Just the slightest jolt from his retreat and the priceless China vase gifted to the couple was wobbling dangerously. 

Izuku held his breath, hoping against hope that it would stay upright. It teetered once, twice more, paused for what felt like an eternity and then promptly shattered as it fell over the edge, because of course it did. 

Jagged shards of porcelain scattered around Izuku’s feet and for a moment all that could be heard was the crackling of the flames until Mitsuki practically spat out, “Masaru—you’re done here.” 

And to Izuku’s abject horror, Masaru’s entire demeanor deflated. He cast a dejected glance over his shoulder, shut his eyes and sighed out, “I’m sorry, son. You’ve brought it on yourself.” Before he rushed off to help the nearest injured person, leaving Izuku alone with Mitsuki at the peak of her rage. 

Masaru Bakugou was a traitorous coward. 

He was sleeping with enemy, Izuku should’ve known better than to rely on him. To trust him.

Izuku hoped he suffered. He deserved nothing. How dare he— 

Izuku dodged a wild swing at his face at the very last second, these last few months of combat training the only thing keeping him from being caught by the surprise attack. Mitsuki snarled and lunged again and Izuku did the only plausible thing—he ran.  

Ran to the back door and wrenched it open, ran through the kitchen, the living room, the foyer. It was a mad dash to the front door and just as he was about to wrench that open as well a size seven pump that probably cost more than his entire closet narrowly missed his head and smacked against the entryway. He jumped with a yelp and watched it hit the floor before he whipped around wide eyed. 

“You’re fucking craz—” The rest was cut off with sputtering when the other shoe smacked him square in the face, Mitsuki hot on its trail. 

“And you’re fucking dead! Get your ass back here!” 

He scrambled for the doorknob blindly, trying to fight back tears springing to his eyes from the sudden assault to his face. Once he had it in his grasp, he set of a few high intensity explosions to heat the metal thoroughly. He slammed the door in her face just as she was about to reach him. She cursed him loudly when she reached for the now smoldering handle and consequently burned her hand. 

“Katsuki, you little prick! You are finished when I get my fucking hands on you, you hear me!” Her threats continued to be muffled through the barrier between them while Izuku caught his breath and tried to figure out the next best course of action. Then he saw Kacchan basically shadow boxing in the driveway. 

Sure, ok, whatever. Weirder things have happened. No time to ask questions. 

He made his way over to him in a hurry, Mitsuki still promising murder behind him, and wrenched him out of— 

What is this, a training session? 

“We need to leave.” Deku announced loudly. At the same moment Mitsuki busted the front window with a smash that made Izuku jump out of his skin. She began to crawl out, some shards cutting into her skin and streaks of blood flowing down, a woman possessed. Izuku’s stomach fell out of his ass. “Now.”  

“I almost had the guy, Deku. Fuck off!” 

“Kacchan, I swear to God. You’re imaginary friend is the least of our problems right now, we need to leave—” 

Kacchan ripped out of his hold and full cowling sparked to life around him before he delivered a round house kick that was almost impossible to see, it was so fast—and his foot actually connected with something. 

Izuku let out a scream that would definitely not meet Kirishima’s ‘manliness’ standards as the left side of a man’s face appeared out of thin air and disappeared just as quickly with a grunt and a curse. 

“What was that?” Izuku shrieked. 

“I’ve been trying to tell your dumbass!” He roared and brought his hands up to fight again, but apparently the man was no longer there.

“Fuck he’s getting away again!” And then he was off once more in a flash of green light. 

“No, Kacchan, wait—” 

The next instant found Izuku on his back with the wind completely knocked out of him from connecting with the pavement so hard. Mitsuki had tackled him to the ground and was now straddling his chest, effectively pinning him in place.  

She tried to swipe at his face and Izuku caught her hand, the other one came up too fast, though, and caught him by the throat. He clasped his other hand over hers and struggled to breathe as he tried to pry her off, but she had him in a vice grip. 

Damn she’s strong, what the hell?

As he continued to try and fight her off his hands started popping with sparks against his will in response to feeling trapped. 

“I fucking dare you to use your Quirk right now. See what happens,” she said in a tone that assured Izuku he did not want to see what would happen. So he willed the explosions to stop and when they did Mitsuki hummed menacingly.  

“I’ve been nice, Katsuki,” she purred evilly. “I didn’t go up to the school, I didn’t attack you at the door. Hell, I even lovingly opened up to you instead of beating your ungrateful ass, and all I asked was for you to behave in return. You fucked up.” A truly manic smile cut across her face. 

Izuku wanted to cry. He’d tried his hardest, he really had. But he slipped up in the home stretch and all that hard work resulted in him being choked out by a madwoman in the front lawn while a fire raged in the back. People were hurt, Kacchan was pissed at him and likely in danger…. He just wanted everything to go back to normal, he never asked for this! He didn’t mean to ruin everything. 

“I’m SORRY!” Izuku wailed, voice strained, as a single tear dropped down the side of his face and he kicked his legs violently. This gave Mitsuki pause, her eyes went wide for a split second before she narrowed them to absolute slits. 

“Who the hell are you?” She demanded. 

Izuku stopped struggling abruptly and they considered each other in silence, chests heaving. Considering how suspiciously she’d been regarding him all day Izuku shouldn’t be as surprised as he was when she realized he’s not who he’s been pretending to be. 

When he didn’t give her an answer, her grip got even tighter around his throat. “I said: who are you?” she hissed again as she got directly in his face. 

“Ma’am, get off of the boy!” 

Izuku hadn’t even realized the police and fire department had come on the scene until they were right on top of them, circling around Mitsuki like she was a wild animal, quietly and with caution. But she didn’t even blink at their arrival. 

“You are not my son,” she continued to dig into his throat and Izuku's vision was beginning to dim. Whether it was from the Quirk because he was about five seconds away from being outed or because he legitimately could not bring in oxygen he was unsure. 

“Ma’am.” 

At his continued lack of response Mitsuki reared up and gripped Izuku’s shirt, his now limp body going willingly, to scream.

“WHERE IS—” 

The last thing Izuku saw were the neon blue feathers on a dart sticking out of her arm. She fell forward bonelessly. Izuku fell with her, ground connecting unforgivingly with the back of his head and then everything was black. 

**** 

Izuku woke with a start and his hands flew straight to his neck before he realized no one’s hand was latched onto it anymore. 

Fluorescent lights blinded him momentarily and it took him a few seconds to realize he was laid out in the back of an ambulance. When his breathing slowed a bit after he came down from his initial fright, he could hear hushed voices whispering. The back doors were open to the night sky where heavy smoke from, he assumed, the aftermath of the fire billowed in the wind, smudging out the moon and stars. 

“—came over you, Izuku? You’ve been acting a bit strange all day, and then the whole thing with Katsuki…should I be concerned?” 

Kacchan smacked his hands down on the step he’d been sitting on and pushed up off it in an angry flurry of movement. Izuku and his mother both jumped at the abrupt fit. 

“I don’t need your concern. He just drives me crazy—you drive me crazy! He's not—I'm not a kid anymore. I don’t need you worrying about me twenty-four seven, so back off!” He screamed. 

Mom stared at Kacchan with wide eyes and Izuku could already see them brimming with tears before she looked up to the starry night and gave a wobbly sigh. 

“I only worry because I care, Izuku,” she said softly. “I love you and I only want what’s best for you.” 

Kacchan looked like he was internally kicking himself before he sighed, too, and reached for her hand. He took the ice pack that was in it and held it back to her head. “I’m…sorry. I know you do. It just feels like you don’t believe in what I'm capable of. I’m not that Quirkless little boy anymore.” 

Mom cupped Kacchan's face in one palm and gave a watery smile. “I suppose I’m still adjusting to all this. For years I thought your father leaving created this void for you that I needed to fill,” she sniffled.  

“Me not having a relationship for you to look up to. Not having the money we always needed. And you not getting a Quirk—ugh you were so devastated, Izuku. And everything was so much harder for you," she hiccuped a bit before she caught herself from flat out crying and started again. "I got into the habit of trying to protect you from the harsh realities this world has to offer the best I could, but you still felt them...And now I guess I just ended up smothering you all the while as well.” She gave a self-depreciating laugh. 

Kacchan frowned. “Stop that,” he snapped. “Knowing all those realities and having you as a mom is what’s going to make hi—me such a good hero.” He looked over his shoulder to where Izuku was lying to check if he was awake and Izuku quickly shut his eyes.  

When Kacchan continued Izuku reopened them and had to fight his own battle with tears. “I’m not going into training with any wool over my eyes. The world is tough, and sure I learned that early on, but I had you there as the perfect example that even though the world can be calloused and cruel, it doesn’t have to turn me that way, too. You’re still so bright and loving despite everything, and I wouldn’t be where I am without you…you’re literally, like, the best mom.”  

Mom just shook her head. 

“You don’t believe me? Look how that guy turned out,” he thumbed back to Izuku, basically ragging on himself now. “You could’ve done a lot worse.” Mom wiped a few tears that were streaking down her face and gave a wet laugh.  

Kacchan wiped away the rest and smiled with her. “You raised a kick-ass kid, alright? So lighten the hell up.” 

“Izuku!”  

Izuku shook his head. Kacchan had been so close to a perfect day. But Izuku’s heart swelled regardless. Kacchan was being sweet, and Izuku was melting.  

“Sorry, sorry. But we’re good? I don’t need you constantly worrying about things that are outside of your control. I turned out fine, and capable, and strong. And I’ll still love you if you loosen the reigns a little bit, promise.” 

Mom finished drying her face and threw her arms around Kacchan nodding her head. He looked genuinely surprised, and hesitated with his arms out awkwardly for a few moments before he embraced her back and stroked down her back lightly. Izuku couldn’t help the dopey smile that spread across his face at the sight.  

A scuffle sounded outside of the truck and Mom peeked around the corner nervously. 

“Ah…Mitsuki is coming out of the sedative they gave her. I think maybe you boys should get out of here,” she said with a giggle. 

Kacchan smiled at her, confused. “You don’t think we should stay for punishment?” 

“Oh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to, but I would advise against it.” 

Kacchan hopped up without any hesitation. “Then we’re out of here,” he said easily. He pecked Mom the cheek and wished her luck with the Bakugous in the wake of this tragic evening. Mom only rolled her eyes and insisted she’d been through worse with Mitsuki, which Izuku found absolutely terrifying to imagine. 

Kacchan only laughed disbelievingly and watched her go, when he turned to find Izuku watching him his smile faded to a neutral line. He didn’t sound angry when he said, “How much did you hear?” Just weary. 

Izuku sat up with a wince, his throat and chest still sore from being choked out. “I came in around the ‘yelling at my mom’ bit.” 

“Of course you did,” he sighed out in irritation. 

“It turned out alright though...I didn’t realize she could be understanding about stuff like that, especially after everything that happened tonight,” he said with an awkward chuckle and scratch behind the head. 

Kacchan took a seat on the other bench inside the truck and shrugged. “She’s actually a lot more chill than I thought. I know I was shitty at her earlier, but come to find out she only acts that way because you let her. If you just tell her what you want, she’ll get it,” he said matter-of-factly.  

Izuku blinked at him to see if he was serious, but Kacchan’s face remained impassive. Izuku's eye twitched as he resisted the urge to scream about the irony of what Kacchan had just said, and snap at him to take his own advice. He instead took a page out of Mitsuki’s book and worked to even his breathing. He decided to let it go in favor of capitalizing on Kacchan's first semi-decent mood all day. 

So Izuku just hummed in agreement and started in on a, hopefully, safe topic to tackle first. “So… What happened to the invisible man?”  

Kacchan stiffened and frowned instantly, turning his face away. “He got away. But he smiled as he was leaving and I finally figured out where I’d seen his mouth before.”  

Izuku raised his eyebrows and Kacchan continued. “He was there a ground Beta after our spar. He was behind you when you were carrying me to Recovery Girl, smiling. So that’s two days in a row now I’ve seen this guy in completely different settings. He wants something and I don’t think he’s friendly, despite him not fighting back earlier.”  

Izuku hummed again, considering. “You know, there’s a joke in there somewhere about you focusing on men’s mouths a lot lately, but I’m too tired to find it.” 

Kacchan snarled and pushed up to leave. “Fuck you, Deku.” 

Izuku laughed and caught his arm before he could get too far. “I’m sorry. You’re right this is serious,” he said through stifled giggles. 

Kacchan rolled his eyes, but didn’t try to move away again, if anything he seemed to be leaning into Izuku’s space more.  

“I hate you.”  

Izuku thought back to just a few seconds ago when Katsuki was - unbeknownst to Mom - complementing Izuku on what a good hero he was going to be. And then even earlier in the day when he’d almost called Izuku perfect. And all the times he’d caught Katsuki staring at him, with hope in his eyes.  

Yeah, there was no way Izuku was wrong about how Kacchan felt now. He cared—a lot. Even if he wouldn’t admit it yet.  

“Sure you do." 

They looked at one another and the heat Izuku was beginning to recognize as Kacchan’s body’s excitement of having Izuku’s near started to thrum under his skin intensely.  

Maybe…now would be an okay time to bring up the other stuff?  

“Um, so—” he started. 

Both their phones went off at the same time and the notifications cut through the soft moment they were having with a blaring ding. And then several more followed. 

Kacchan blinked and stepped back slightly, fished out his phone and frowned down at in confusion. “The 1-A chat is blowing up. Something about a party?” 

Curious, Izuku took out his own phone and sure enough everyone was talking about how Aizawa was gone for whatever reason, and apparently Iida (who they’d removed from the chat right before the text chain) was off too, visiting his brother. The last message declared Kaminari had a stash of booze big enough to supply everyone and that a few of them were already dipping into it.  

The one from Ashido about "not starting party games until Mido and Blasty get back” was particularly concerning.  

Then a video popped up. Kacchan looked at Izuku warily and Izuku moved closer so they could both watch it off of one screen.  

Ashido’s pink face popped up, flushed and giggly. She sputtered and laughed as she realized the camera wasn’t facing the right way, before flipping it to show Kaminari setting up bottles of liquor in the kitchen. “Say it again!” She laughed and Kaminari turned around with a red solo cup in one hand and a large bottle in the other and yelled, “COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE!” 

He and Kacchan watched the video end, and when the back of the ambulance was completely silent again, they both let out a whispered, “Shit.” 

Chapter Text

Katsuki had little to no experience with embarrassment—and why wouldn’t he?  

You have to care about what people think to be embarrassed, and Katsuki couldn’t give a shit what most people thought of him. Their opinions were more often than not useless, if not completely irrelevant and/or pointless. 

But Deku wasn’t most people. Never had been. 

And that cursed fucking speech Katsuki had shoved into the back of his drawer all those weeks ago wasn’t ever even supposed to see the light of day again, let alone lead to all the chaos it had.  

He’d never imagined a confession between the two of them would turn out so horribly. Auntie passed out in the background of it for fuck’s sake—the back yard had burned. 

So, embarrassment was at an all-time high today. 

Because now Deku knew.  

Their parents knew.    

Everybody fucking knew.  

Katsuki wasn’t ready for this shit.  

He’d never felt more out of his element and couldn't imagine anything better than holing up in his room for the foreseeable future and avoiding any sort of conversation about what had happened today for the rest of his life.  

But, naturally, Deku had other plans. 

“I want to talk about your speech,” Deku said so earnestly and with so much determination it made Katsuki wince. Because Katsuki wanted nothing more than to erase the last few hours from memory. 

Katsuki stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. Deku had been silent the entirety of the way back from Katsuki’s house to the train station, and even still the whole ride to their final stop.  

In the beginning Katsuki had assumed it was so the demon he called his mother wouldn’t notice them sneak off. Though, they could’ve tap-danced off the scene for all she would’ve noticed, too busy screaming bloody murder into the night as emergency personnel attempted to restrain her again.

But once they’d settled into their respective positions on the train the silence took on a weight. A weight that only grew heavier with each passing second, bogged down with a tension so thick Katsuki could practically see it rolling off of them, was surprised everyone around them wasn’t chocking with it.  

Deku kept peaking up at him from under those long blonde lashes from where he sat on one of the few available seats left, while Katsuki death gripped one of the hand rails above their heads.  

The shy peeks soon became lingering glances. Then bolder, short periods of eye contact that would be cut off by one or both of them looking away sheepishly, embarrassed. Until it eventually just turned into an outright staring contest. 

Both of their faces grew redder with each progression of ogling one another. Deku’s leg bounced nervously and Katsuki shuffled his feet awkwardly until a feminine automated voice announced their arrival at their destination and they both jumped slightly, blinked stupidly out of whatever silent game of chicken they’d been caught up in, and made their exit. 

It was hard to ignore the fact that his childhood friend-turned rage outlet-turned rival-turned devastating crush had screamed a confession to an entire group of strangers before setting their back yard on fire because of his unbridled emotions—combusted with his literal uncontrolled burning passion. 

So, Katsuki knew the nerd was composing himself to breach the subject, but he was hoping it wouldn’t go straight into I want to talk about your speech with a confidence he seemed to have finally worked his way up to with each mile further away from home they got. His head held high, chest out, voice steady.  

Because Katsuki wasn’t prepared for that conversation at all. Not even close. 

Katsuki cleared his throat and faced away as they continued towards campus. “Yeah. I...don’t.” It came out quiet and unsure, more like a question the way his inflection rose on the end.  

Deku’s resolve visibly took a hit, but to his credit he'd bounced back quickly and his voice barely even wavered when he said, “Alright. I want to talk about my speech, then.” 

Katsuki frowned. Was he talking about his confession? That really wasn’t a speech. More of a long-winded dig at Katsuki’s emotional ineptitude. Which had been justified, but Katsuki didn’t need to hear that again either. Especially since it’d been running through his mind on a loop since it came flying out of Deku’s mouth anyway. 

Katsuki could feel the stifling heaviness of anxiety creeping in. “I don’t want to talk about that either.” 

“Well, how about we talk about your body.” Deku pressed on. 

Katsuki heaved a sigh and determinedly avoided eye contact as his cheeks became warmer, scowl grew deeper. “Look, Deku—” 

“And how I’m physically fighting it to not pull you—mine—up against me right now.” He snatched Katsuki out of his stride, made him look at his face. They were less than a breath apart and Deku’s voice was definitely shaking now and he sounded almost desperate. His eyes beseeching, lower lip almost quivering, long fingers a scorching iron band around Katsuki’s wrist. 

Katsuki just looked up at him owlishly and searched his face that was only being lit on one side by the unnatural, sickly-green hue of the streetlights leading back to UA.  

Deku was anxious too, but it translated wrong on Katsuki’s features. Instead of looking scared he just looked pissed. The sharp angels of his face and deep black blood of his shadowed-over eyes weren't really screaming talk to me like Deku was probably aiming for, but rather answer me, asshole.  

Their bodies were gravitating towards each other. Katsuki could feel what Deku was talking about. Feel how the foreign, scarred fingers he now controlled were itching to find that tuft of blonde hair and drag Deku in. And the effort to fend off that feeling of touch me now while they were so close was almost making him nauseous. But the absolute panic shrieking through his veins to move away was overshadowing every other emotion.

Katsuki squirmed out of Deku’s hold as gently as he could. He opened his mouth. Closed it, ground his jaw tight, looked down at the concrete as his nails dug deeper into the fists he had shaking slightly at his sides. 

“I’m trying here, Kacchan,” Deku breathed out imploringly. 

And fuck, Katsuki wanted to try, too, but what was he supposed to say?  He had no idea how to deal with this right now. He needed more time. To think, to prepare, to— 

“Can we just...get ready for this party and get it over with. Talk about it later?” He ended up blurting without much forethought. 

It gave him an out for talking about feelings for at least another couple of hours, but it also worked as a reasonable deflection. They did need to get their shit together before this party. It was much different than the one they’d just attended and those differences needed to be considered, thought through. It was a solid pivot in subject. 

So, Katsuki was more than a little caught off guard by Deku’s watery, terse, and rather sharp laugh in response to it. The tone of it rubbed Katsuki wrong, as did the scathing way Deku asked, “Your serious right now?” 

Katsuki puffed up a little in defense. Always on the defense. 

“Yeah, Deku. We’ve got bigger problems than whatever this is—” 

“You spew crap all day, but when I need you to talk to me you—” 

“—I said we could later! What the hell, man? We barely made it out of the last party alive. We need to focus because this one is going to be worse, just—” 

“—for once, meet me halfway. You’re such an assho—” 

“—aren’t even istening to what I’m saying. Drop it for fuck’s sake! We need to figure out how—” 

“Do you want this, or not.”  

Deku’s half screech cut through the empty night. It wasn’t even all that loud, but it still left Katsuki stunned, his ears absolutely ringing. And the wounded look Deku was giving him was so gut-wrenching he had to resist the urge to flinch away from it. 

Katsuki clenched and unclenched his hands, face a furnace as he looked away from Deku. Couldn’t bare seeing the beginning of tears in his own carmine eyes.  

Fucking hell,  why couldn’t he just piggyback off of Deku’s confession? Why the fuck was it so hard to just agree with what he was saying? Just sweep the nerd off of his feet? Reservations be damned - pride be damned? 

Deafening silence prevailed in wake of the monumental question and Deku pulled back. Katsuki’s eyes jumped to his pinched face. 

“Well, I suppose that’s answer enough,” he groused and deftly swiped away a lone tear that had managed to spill over. 

Katsuki blanched and reached out tentatively. “Deku...” 

He shrugged away from Katsuki’s advance and cast his eyes to the side. “You’re a coward,” he spoke so quietly Katsuki wouldn’t have even heard it if he hadn’t seen his mouth move.  

That word.  It felt like a physical blow. And despite the situation, despite the fragile limbo their relationship was in right now, Katsuki could feel his ever-reliable, bone deep anger bubble up on instinct to defend himself. And it was readily welcomed. Anger was a familiar, safe emotion after all. 

Deku pushed past him to continue on through the school’s front gate and Katsuki followed, hot on his heels. 

“Who’s a fucking coward?” He ground out, seething even as his heart was still in his throat. 

Deku picked up the pace. “You! You’re a coward. And I’m—” he huffed a disbelieving laugh at himself. “I’m an idiot.” 

Katsuki grit his teeth and fought back the tears Deku’s body naturally produced at any intense emotion as his anger rose higher at the continued insults. “You sure as shit are an idiot if you think I’m scared of your crybaby ass!” Katsuki spat. And that was...partially true.  

He wasn’t scared of Deku—just what Deku made him feel. Always had been. 

All these tender, vulnerable things that Katsuki couldn’t even admit to himself until he was alone. When the quiet and the darkness of night enveloped him and allowed space in Katsuki’s mind for the what ifs and possibilities to creep in.  

Deku liked to gut Katsuki open for all his soft insides to bleed for him. And instead of feeling free, or liberated, or whatever sappy shit, Katsuki just feels like he’s sacrificing himself.  

Deku some high priest of doomed relationships, his blade all his expectations and belief in Katsuki; and Katsuki just lets him slit him open. Doomed to watch the beatific smile spread across Deku’s face as Katuski’s lifeblood poured down endless steps in the form of all his regrets, insecurities, repressed longing—and it was fucking terrifying. 

Deku rounded on him so fast Katsuki almost fell from stumbling to a stop so quickly. “Then Say. It,” he hissed down at Katsuki menacingly. “ Say you want me. Say you want to be with me. Say something that isn’t you just talking out of your ass!” 

Of course that’s what I fucking want died in Katsuki’s throat. A choked sound came out instead and Deku raised his eyebrows expectantly. Katsuki snapped his mouth shut.  

Fuck, that’s what he wanted but he can’t for the life of him understand why Deku wanted it. Why he continued to try and drag feelings out of Katsuki. He could have whoever he wanted, and he wanted Katsuki? The asshole who’s hurt him time and time again?  

Katsuki wanted Deku, goddamn did he want him, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve him. And he didn’t want to get into whatever this was with him if it was just going to blow up in his face once Deku finally realized Katsuki wasn’t worth his forgiveness or understanding, let alone his time and affection.  

The high priest’s smile falling as he realized Katsuki’s sacrifice could not save them. Shaking his head sadly and walking away, leaving his back to be the last thing Katsuki saw before he slumped to the unforgiving stone, bled dry, desolate. No honor. No glory. Just overwhelming pain and disappointment. 

“I don’t want that,” he growled out in the small space between them. Their ragged breathing is the only sound Katsuki can pick up other than his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. 

Deku frowned down at him and glared. Katsuki felt sweat form at the nape of his neck with the effort to keep his face impassive, chin canted, eyes daring. But the mask was slipping, he could feel it, under the weight of those demanding, scalding eyes narrowed to absolute slits.  

Deku’s face broke out into some facsimile of a smile, teeth bared, smug as all hell, and Katsuki’s heart rate tripled at the knowing glint that twinkled in his eye. “I told you that face isn’t built for lying, Kacchan,” he sneered, and Katsuki’s blood ran cold at the reminder. 

Shit, shit, shit, shi—  

“Oh, my God,” Ashido’s voice and raucous pop music tore the two of  them apart as the front door was ripped open and then promptly slammed shut behind her. She stomped down the front steps. “How long are you two going to just stand out here? We’ve been waiting forever!” She complained loudly and snatched both of their wrists up in a death grip to haul them inside. “You’re late and behind on shots!” 

They were dragged eagerly behind bouncing bubble gum curls up to the entrance. Deku was still visibly pissed (whether at Katsuki in general or at Ashido for the intrusion was unclear—probably both) and Katsuki could feel the mildly horrified look still plastered to his own face from being called out before they’d been interrupted.  

Katsuki’s motor functions were momentarily shot, he was tripping over himself trying to keep up with Ashido and still trying to come up with a retort to Deku’s assault on his pride. His mouth flapped uselessly to say something, anything, before they went into this party on the worst note possible (they needed to be a united front in here, dammit), but Deku beat him to it. 

“What kind of shots?” he asked seriously, and Katsuki was reeling again for a whole other reason. The asshole was openly mocking Katsuki and all his worries about how they would struggle to get through this party unscathed. He had no apparent care for dealing with this situation with any form of caution like they desperately needed to. 

Dread crashed over Katsuki in a cold wave. Deku had that look in his eye. That determined, bullheaded one that Katsuki knows because it's his own,  for fuck’s sake. Katsuki also knew the feral grin that slashed across his face to join it. Neither was good for Katsuki’s wellbeing (or for Deku’s body’s blood pressure, apparently). He gulped audibly.  

Ashido snapped her head back to appraise ‘Bakugou’s’ willing participation with a slightly raised eyebrows, a wicked smirk, and dark gleam in her depthless eyes that meant nothing but trouble. The doomed feeling icing over Katsuki's veins increased tenfold.  

“You’ll see,” she answered ominously. She slid her gaze over to Katsuki to give him a saucy wink before she kicked the front door open with her puke pink combat boots. 

The full force of the music and the overwhelming heat of all the gyrating bodies smacked them in the face as soon as the door flung open and hit the wall inside of it; Kaminari was bouncing on his toes waiting at the entrance to forcefully shove small glasses into their hands before they had even fully crossed the threshold indoors.  

Deku threw back the shot, without any ounce of hesitation, just as the door slammed shut again behind them. 

Katsuki watched as their classmates descended on them in droves with more cups full of variety of different brightly colored drinks sloshing onto the already sticky floor.  

He watched Deku enthusiastically accept another shot from a random hand sticking out from the crowd. 

Watched Deku’s dark smirk towards him grow smaller with distance as Kirishima hauled him away to god knows where with an arm already hooked around his neck, looking overly animated about what he was no doubt shouting in Deku’s ear. 

Katsuki stood stock still with his own shot still in hand, still a bit beside himself with how everything had just taken such a left turn so suddenly.  

The blood pounding in his ears was louder than the bass of whatever shitty song was currently shaking the floor beneath him. The headache forming at his temples was stronger than the tequila wafting up from the drink he had a white-knuckle grip on.  

He synched his eyes closed tightly, took in a shaky breath, and resigned himself to the fact that the entirety of this day was just going to be his living nightmare. Might as well remember as little of it as possible, right? 

Turned out cheap tequila burns all the way down. 

One shot.  

Katsuki’s phone was snatched from him as soon as he came into Yaoyorozu’s field of vision.  

“No phones,” she said sternly. “We’re all going to be pros one day, and it's not like I don’t trust you, Deku, but some of the others...” Katsuki followed her gaze to Kaminari patting himself down in a drunken panic before he seemed to realize something and he snapped his head up. He found Yaoyorozu and started vibrating with excitement through the crowd towards her. 

“Yaomomo!” He screamed and Yoayorozu winced. “Please let me have my phone.” His obnoxious sob could be heard easily over the raucous laughter and music surrounding them. “Higakure is doing a strip tease and it’s the funniest shit I’ve eve—”  

Yaoyorozu turned back to Katsuki quickly. “You understand.” And that was the end of her explanation on the matter. She hurriedly unlocked a drawer filled with a pile of black screens, custom cases, pop sockets. She tossed Katsuki’s in, locked it back up, and threw the key chain back around her neck, stuffing it between the ample amount of cleavage available with the skin tight tank she’d decided to wear. Kaminari was a few feet away from reaching them when she ruffled Katsuki’s hair, told him to have fun, and vanished back into the crowed, pointedly ignoring the idiot’s desperate pleas from behind her. 

Kaminari fell to his knees dramatically right in front of Katsuki when he lost track of her, and Katsuki quickly made his exit from being anywhere near the scene the shithead was making. 

It wasn’t until he was off on the outskirts of the party looking in that he realized he could’ve used the phone he’d so easily given up to contact someone capable of putting an end to the party and, in turn, Deku’s dumbass decision to be engage in teenage rebellion tonight of all nights. All his worries could have been solved with a simple text message, but instead he was sweating in his fucking button down again, watching every first year on campus make an ass out of themselves, and stressing over what Deku was getting himself into. 

He had been internally kicking himself for the egregious oversight, when another one appeared in front of him in the form of a small, enthusiastic brunette.  

Just to be clear, Katsuki respected Ochacko. She was tougher than she looked, with clear determination, drive, and a natural talent for hand-to-hand combat. She was scrappy, a bit of a live wire, and had a surprisingly nasty right hook. She continuously impressed Katsuki. 

But not tonight. 

Tonight, she’d been all over him since she had first made her way to the corner he'd been hiding in and was now seriously about five seconds away from being on the receiving end of an eight percent hit to the throat. 

Katuski didn’t know if it was her being clingy in general that was pissing him off or her being this familiarly clingy with ‘Deku’.  

Running her fingers through his hair, wrapping herself around his waist, sighing into his ear, leaving no personal space, pressing up against him at any chance. It was fucking annoying. The nerd’s body effectively shut down when she was within arm's reach, so all the contact was making this body absolutely useless, and the last thing Katsuki needed was another hindrance. 

Katsuki gets it, he guessed. Ochacko is objectively attractive. Firm but soft around the edges. All big brown eyes, healthy, rosy cheeks, and luscious pouty mouth. It makes sense. Because he understands the allure of women. How all their curves might be enticing, their tinkling laughs and rapidly batted lashes inviting or whatever, but only as a concept. He’s way too fucking gay to actually—lust after one or anything.  

So, being in Deku’s bi disaster of a body was Actual Hell.  

He found his eyes were being drawn to body parts he’d never really considered before against his will. His body was reacting to a woman’s touch in a way he’d never experienced previously. Deku’s body kept leaning back into her heavily while Katsuki mentally fought the urge to barf at the smell of her flowery perfume.  

It was a dizzying fight for control that he was ultimately losing. Which was, unfortunately, probably a good thing. It was forcing Katsuki to stay in character. He really just wanted to rip her a new one about keeping her fucking hands to herself and off his Deku, but Deku’s body’s ability to form words was compromised the moment she first hugged him.  

A fucking mess.  

It also didn’t help that he felt like he was being engulfed in flames it was so fucking hot at every point of contact between them. Because there were a lot of points of contact. 

Is this how they normally got on or was this because she’d been drinking? Do less inhibitions have her feeling bold? Does Deku regularly let her just hang off of him? Is all this blushing and the struggle to function properly because the nerd is this attracted to her or because he’s a just a fucking spaz?  

“Dekuuu,” she crooned, with her arms wrapped around his neck, face tucked up under his chin. Katsuki rolled his eyes and struggled to make sure his hands stayed where they were at his sides. 

“You’re my favorite person,” she sighed happily and all the fight in Katsuki deflated when he felt Deku’s body absolutely melt at her words. 

This was new. Katsuki only had Deku’s attraction to his own body as a point of reference for a crush so far, and this syrupy sweet, gooey feeling dripping through him never came up when Katsuki’s body was around.  

It was disheartening that his only real competition for the little green dickhead was apparently already winning... 

Katsuki fought hard and managed to muster enough strength over Deku’s body to push Ochacko far enough away to breathe properly again and really looked at her. 

He sighed through his nose. 

He should do Deku a favor and just push these two closer together. Consider both their feelings and all that bullshit. Come to terms with the realistic plausibility that he and Deku would probably never work out. Ochacko was a nice girl, and most definitely more Deku’s speed... 

A flash of blonde caught his eye over Ochacko’s head. Deku was shifting stiffly on the far wall, eyeing their little interaction intently. They locked eyes for only a brief moment before Deku turned back to his conversation with Kirishima, but that second it was still apparently long enough for Deku’s body to tremble slightly at the simmering heat within it, had his breath catching in his throat.  

And then Katsuki felt like an actual dumbass, because where the fuck had that ‘bow out’ mentality come from when Deku’s body still reacted like that when Katuski’s only looked in his direction?  

Yeah, Katsuki should consider Ochacko’s feelings. She was a nice girl, and most definitely more Deku’s speed—but consideration had never been one of his strong points. 

And since when had losing ever been something Katsuki was able to take sitting down? 

Persuading Ochacko to let him get a refill on his own and then giving her the slip had been difficult. But tossing back that second drink so he could try and forget wondering hands and sparkling chocolate princess eyes had been far easier than the first. 

Two shot.   

Katsuki was not surprised that Todoroki was a pain in his ass no matter what body he was inhabiting.  

“What’s that?” He asked excitedly, grabbing for the plate in Katsuki’s hand. 

“They’re pizza rolls and they’re mine. Back off!” Katsuki growled as he snatched the plate closer to himself, wolfed down a handful, and effectively burned the entirety of his mouth since they’d just come out of the microwave. 

They were off to the side of a table in the kitchen that was full of randomly assorted frozen and processed trash that each member of the party had contributed to for sustenance during this ridiculous event. The lazy ass potluck had anything from potato chips to frozen burritos to a tub of Neapolitan ice cream some dumbass had left out on the table to melt and leave a sticky mess leaking onto the floor. 

Todoroki, the poor, sheltered asshole that he was, had never been to a party before. It was obvious because he was way too enthralled by possibly the worst so called party Katsuki had ever been to. 

Todoroki had never been allowed junk food growing up either, apparently, because he was scarfing down everything in sight with a childlike enthusiasm and equal reckless abandon. Absolutely inhaling snacks like he’d never get the chance again.  

The guy was completely out of it, and Katsuki wasn’t all too sure if it was due to the alcohol or the sugar high he’d been on since he upended a whole family size bag of skittles. Either way, Todoroki was putting up a truly commendable effort to knock Ochacko out of first for which of Deku’s stupid friends he hated most. 

“Just let me try one!” Todoroki whined, a petulant pout dragging down his face. Katsuki hunched further over the plate like a rabid animal in a clear sign to reject his request—he hadn’t had pizza rolls in years, alright? Those abs don’t just happen—and Todoroki responded by trying to grab around the stronghold he’d created with his arms. 

“No! I said back off ! Get your own fuc—freaking plate!” He shoved one hand to Todoroki’s face to fend him off and held the plate out with the other. 

Between the shots and the various mixed drinks shoved at him whenever his hands were free, Katsuki’s hold on his tongue was slipping. Dangerous, yes, but at least he didn’t feel like blowing up the entire room while squabbling with Todoroki. Really, he just felt like he wanted a nap. The liquor was sapping all the constantly present, violent energy out of him rather quickly. 

So, with the increasing slip ups in conversation and the inability to have a sweet, sharing, enthusiastic “sure, have some of mine!” attitude right now, he wasn’t doing his best Deku impression. Not by a long shot. But when he’d last seen Deku he hadn’t been biting people’s heads off or threatening anyone’s life. Just easily socializing and being charming and tolerable.  

Katsuki could see that the nerd was putting little to no effort into maintaining character either, which in literally any other circumstance would be suicide (probably—the effects of this Quirk are still a mystery, they should really figure this shit out), but it was actually fine because as it turned out—alcohol was a blessing in disguise.  

Behaving outside of one’s normal character is one of its biggest side effects. Right behind having to pee every five minutes and feeling like your internal body temperature had raised about twenty degrees.  

So, Deku being overly confident and outgoing while Katsuki was a more reserved and mellow version of himself didn’t really come as a surprise. 

Likewise, ‘Deku’ seeming to be a moody drunk, while ‘Bakugou’ turned into a happy drunk didn’t seem to be surprising to anyone else attending either.  

The rest of the class just went with it. And thank fuck for that, because it took a shit ton of pressure off Katsuki to ensure the Quirk working against them didn’t tweak out if their audience started questioning why the two of them had essentially become completely different people all of a sudden.  

So, it didn’t hurt that everyone there was completely sloshed. It didn’t hurt that Katsuki was being much rougher with Todoroki than would usually be considered normal from his ‘friend’. But it was fucking infuriating that him being an asshole was amusing to this half-and-half child, which was the complete opposite affect he was going for. 

“Oh, come on. Just one!” Todoroki huffed half humorously and half frustrated, still reaching around Katsuki like this was a fucking game right now. “Midoriy—”  

He cut himself off when he’d gotten the tip of his finger on the plate due to his freakishly long arms, fuck him, and then all its contents flopped onto the ground with a splat. Pizza sauce and mini sausages spewing out and making an absolute mess of the linoleum.  

“YOU-” 

“Whoa! Party foul!”  

They both froze, Todoroki still all but glued to Katsuki’s back, and watched Sero saunter into the room, cup in hand, trademark trouble-maker smile wide on his face. 

Todoroki made a weird whining noise in Katsuki’s ear and shot away from him so quickly he toppled over a nearby stool and almost fell trying to catch it before it hit the ground. 

“Easy!” Sero laughed, grabbing the idiot’s arm to balance him, and then Todoroki’s face went a truly incredible shade of red. 

He shot away from Sero, too, then and was back pressing up against Katsuki’s arm awkwardly. 

“Thank, uh—thank you. Sero. Thanks. Um. Sero.” 

“God, shut up,” Katsuki advised under his breath. But he might as well have not existed with the way these two were only focused on one another. 

“No problem, man. You look, uh, g-good tonight, by the way,” Sero was addressing Todoroki like Katsuki wasn’t even in the room and it was gross, honestly. The way color was rising up Sero’s long neck and how he coughed awkwardly to cover up the crack in his voice. 

Todoroki spluttered uselessly in response, and fuck was it hard to watch. He was always so stoic, so infuriatingly deadpan, Katsuki didn’t know whether to look away out of second-hand embarrassment or to keep watching because he may never see this anomaly again. 

“I mean, uh,” Sero stammered, stepping in a bit closer (bold, in Katsuki’s opinion). “You always look good, Todoroki,” he murmured, and Katsuki wanted to gag. 

Todoroki was swaying, his body weight leaning heavier into Katsuki with each passing second. Katsuki was about to elbow him so he would actually respond with in comprehensible language anytime during this conversation, but then someone called Sero’s name. He snapped his head around and broke whatever spell he had over the dense fucker currently hyperventilating in Katsuki’s ear. 

Sero turned back around and gave a blinding and somewhat nervous smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked a little guilty when he said, “Sorry, I have to go help with...something. I’ll, uh, find you later. Cool?” He asked hopefully. 

Todoroki just nodded dumbly and then Sero was off, almost slipping on the spilled pizza rolls from earlier, which just pissed Katsuki off all over again. 

Todoroki took an almost concerningly unsteady breath beside him. “Oh my god, he’s so attractive I’m gonna die,” he exhaled shakily. 

“You’re so embarrassing, I’m gonna die.” 

“Uncalled for,” Todoroki muttered. 

“I didn’t know you liked the tape dispenser.” 

Todoroki looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “You must be drunk. We’ve talked about this so many times.” Katsuki winced at his forgetfulness to let information Deku should know that he didn’t come about naturally.  

He didn’t respond. Just turned to find another plate and started up the whole fucking cooking process again .   

Todoroki pressed on. “You remember. We’d fight over which was more illegal...The way Sero’s suit hides absolutely nothing—” Katsuki actually did gag then. “Or the way Bakugou’s chest glistens after a workout.” 

Katsuki dropped the damn bag of pizza rolls. 

“What?” He screeched. “Shut up!” 

Todoroki gave a very uncharacteristic smirk and it almost seemed like he was trying to go for playfulness when he hitched his voice up and said, “Oh, my gooooddd, Kacchan is just so—ah! He could sweat all over me, I don’t care. I just want him to drag those hands down my face, let me tast—”  

Katsuki clapped a hand over Todoroki’s mouth to silence him, face on fire. Deku’s body was having a nervous breakdown, but Katsuki was also so caught off guard by the new information he wasn’t sure what was affecting the full body flush more. 

That was... something. Something that had been going on for a—a while , apparently, if this was some running joke between these two. Deku had confessed to having feelings for him, but Katsuki didn’t think he was serious enough about them to actually confide in someone else. That was... 

Katsuki shoved off of Todoroki and peaked through the doorway back out towards the dance floor where he found Deku mingling and sipping his drink and just stared.  

He doesn’t know how long he stood there with his brain making rebooting, but eventually Todoroki came back up to his side, because of course he did.  

“I’m sorry. I embarrassed you.” He sounded anything but. 

“You embarrassed yourself more, trust me,” Katsuki snapped back. 

Todoroki gave him a dirty look, but he eventually sagged and nodded his head in agreement. “Sorry about the food, too. I brought another shot for your troubles, though,” he goaded, waving the overflowing cup in front of his face. 

“No.” 

The asshole shoved it at him anyway and Katsuki had to catch it so as not to let the thing spill all down his shirt. Dick. 

Todoroki raised his glass and said wryly, “To embarrassing ourselves over unobtainable men.” 

Katsuki wanted to protest that neither Sero, nor Deku (he was coming to understand), were really all that unobtainable. He and Todoroki were just fucking chicken shit about anything not regarding becoming the next top hero. 

Katsuki took the shot despite his original decline of it. He’d require a lot more liquid courage to be able to pull off what needed to be done. 

Three shot.  

Things were starting to get fuzzy. 

Katsuki knew Shoji swinging around on Sero’s tape had happened. He didn’t really remember why the absolutely massive excuse for a first year wanted to pendulum back and forth in a crowded room full of people—drunk, no less—but it’d be pretty difficult to forget him barreling through at least a quarter of them like some kind of monstrous human wrecking ball.  

Katsuki still wasn't totally sure if Sato having instructed Kirishima and Tetsutetsu to completely harden, then screaming dramatically it's your Quirk, not his at Todoroki so he would roast the marshmallows he had stuck on each of the idiot’s digits and points of their terribly spiked hair to roast them, was real or not. That seemed like a culmination of far too many inexplicable things to be more than some outrageous fever dream.  

He did, unfortunately, have vivid memory of Deku’s disaster of a dance battle. 

Jirou had taken over the music after announcing that Ashido’s playlist was literally making her ears bleed. Once she got something other than K-pop playing more people quickly took to the makeshift dance floor in the common room.  

Katsuki stayed off to the side and out of sight, attempting to avoid a certain gravity defying groupie and that half-and-half asshole who’d also taken to tailing him, while continuing to try and find Deku again to actually talk. The bastard kept ducking off somehow, and the game of hide and seek was getting old, fast. 

Yaoyorozu had made strobe lights, per some idiot's request, and they were leaving colorful spots in Katsuki’s already blurred vision. But he could still see his classmates dancing through the timed flashes. Although, the term dancing was generous. Since it was really just a bumbling group of rhythmless drunks making fools out of themselves. Sad really, but incredibly entertaining to witness, nonetheless.  

A loud startup of cheering caught Katsuki’s attention. Something was happening on the far end of the dance floor and Katsuki had to move along the borders of the room to get a better look. Only to finally find Deku—arguing with Kirishima. The two of them drunkenly screaming about how they were each the better dancer.  

Ah...shit.  

“No way, man! Not with that stick that’s constantly up your ass,” Kirishima laughed and Deku waved him off arrogantly. 

“I’m the best at everything,” Deku replied easily.  

Honestly, their whole thing they had going on sounded kind of rehearsed. And Deku was giving a poor imitation of Katsuki if Katsuki was any judge, but the crowd found it convincing enough it seemed, and continued to encourage their back and forth. 

Jirou caught on to the commotion rather quickly and switched to a new song. Faster tempo, driving beat. The volume of the cheering rose exponentially when Kirishima had unbuttoned the hideous shark print Hawaiian shirt that was barely hanging on to him still after Todoroki torched it in Sato’s ridiculous s’mores session. Ashido wolf whistled from her seat up at the turntables with Jirou and Kirishima grin widened. He proceeded to toss it off completely. Deku rolled up his sleeves in response and Katsuki knew what was about to happen but prayed for a different outcome anyway. 

Please, don’t do it. Not ballet. Literally anything else. Hip hop, contemporary, hell ballroom. Just not th—  

Deku executed a jump into an effortless grand jaute before landing in a one-legged plie turned arabesque flawlessly. Arms extended beautifully; lines perfect.  

Katsuki groaned and half covered his face with his hand, he left enough room to at least partially see how things played out. 

Deku had stood back on both feet and looked shocked as all hell at what he’d just done, but Katsuki had been trained in classical ballet since he was five. It was the only style of dance he’d taken consistently—faithfully—over the years and he wasn’t surprised in the slightest that it was his body’s default. He could do a full recital in his sleep. 

The party had come to somewhat of a standstill due to everyone’s sputtered astonishment.  

“What was that?” Todoroki was suddenly flush against his side and Katsuki cursed in surprise, then sucked his teeth in annoyance. 

Of course, none of these asshats would think ‘Bakugou’ knew the first thing about ballet, which was idiotic. What—they think his agility in and out of the air just came with his Quirk? Oh, yeah, sure here’s explosive sweat and the ability to do an in-air split! Fuck off.  

He’d busted his ass in those pinchy ass tights for years to get to where he was at, and was proud as hell of it. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted his whole class to find out like this. 

There were a few tense seconds where Deku had frozen and the crowd had gone silent, but they quickly passed, and then everyone was screeching for them to continue, fascinated and hype as hell off the alcohol. 

Kirishima pointed at Deku while stomping side to side slightly off beat, eyes a little wild, as he geared up for his own performance. "Don’t know what that was. Still gonna kick your ass.” 

Deku grinned maniacally and then they were going at it. 

Kirishima turned into Magic Mike, essentially. Stripping his undershirt off and grinding to the music with exaggerated body rolls and hip thrusts. All the while Deku was pirouetting circles around him. A random cabriole or entrechat thrown in every now and then just to spice things up.  

And, wow, was it awful.  

Neither of them was anywhere near the beat, both were sweating profusely, everyone around them was doubled over and nearly in tears from laughing so hard. Some of the girls were throwing bills at Kirishima, while it seemed Aoyama was the only person there with any taste since he was absolutely gushing over Deku’s performance. Like, full out screaming in complete French, no Japanese to be found.  

Eventually the song ended and the two of them fell over each other in laughter, patting each other’s back in comradery. Katsuki would never live this incident down once all this Quirk related shit was over, but despite that he couldn’t help but appreciate that Deku was having fun.  

The situation they were in was fucking garbage and he’d much rather be in bed right now after the day he’d had. But seeing Deku smile and carry on, even if it was in Katsuki’s body and Katsuki was missing out on those big green eyes scrunching up, it still made Katsuki feel...good. 

Because Deku didn’t have fun. Katsuki, along with an unfortunate lack of a genetic mutation, had kind of ripped that away from him at an early age. And now the nerd was so serious about harnessing One for All and studying and upcoming internships...he’d earned a night of goofing off. Katsuki supposed they all had now that he was really thinking about it.  

“I can’t feel my lips,” Todoroki interrupted Katsuki’s musings. “Well, really just this whole general area,” he elaborated while circling the entirety of his face with an open palm. 

“Please, shut up,” Katsuki said in a kind voice, still appreciating the view of Deku enjoying himself without even so much as glancing at the fool beside him. 

Katsuki found himself smiling in spite of all the bullshit Deku had put him through up to that point, and watched the nerd continue to fall all over himself and Kirishima in hysterics. 

Cute...  

“Deku!” Katsuki flinched hard at the shrill voice he’d been avoiding so diligently suddenly right at his ear. He gritted his teeth. His rising mood plummeted back down like she’d deactivated her Quirk on it. 

“I told you, you don’t need to scream in my ear, woman. I can hear you." He rolled his eyes at his need to repeat something he’d already brought up to her too many times that night. He begrudgingly tore his gaze away from Deku to look at her, unamused in every way.  

He might as well have been talking to a brick wall for all she reacted to his surly tone. “Dance with me!” she insisted in the same pitch as before, the one that was driving Katsuki up a wall. 

“No—” the whole word wasn’t even out of his mouth before she was bodily shoving him into the throng of people still butchering basic steps. Todoroki lazily waved them off.  

Katsuki was forced to rigidly and miserably stand and take being grinded on by a very sloppy Ochacko. He cursed Deku’s shitty taste through every second of every song, though he beared it for what he considered to be a truly remarkable amount of time.  

But when she started twerking on him and he couldn’t help it. She’d finally pushed him over the edge and he lost it. Ended up forcefully shoving her away with both hands before he could even think better of it.  

Should he be held accountable for his actions when his vision and brain were literally swimming with the amount of alcohol he’d consumed already? Katsuki doesn’t think so. 

Had he pushed her harder than he’d meant to? Yeah, ok. 

Does he think she milked it by falling into four other people? Definitely. 

Deku’s body, the traitor, outstretched a helping hand on automatic and Ochacko took it hesitantly, looking like she was about to cry. 

Katsuki fought not to roll his eyes again before he blandly grumbled, “Someone bumped into me.” Just so the chick wouldn't start blubbering all over herself. 

She bought it, of course, because why would her precious Deku ever throw someone to the ground? Katsuki wanted to scoff as she gave him a relieved smile and nodded her understanding. What an idiot. He almost felt bad for her, throwing herself unknowingly at her competition only for Katsuki to shut things down before she had a real chance with the nerd. 

“Yeah...it is getting kind of crowded, huh?” she chuckled nervously and Katsuki only grunted his agreement.  

That, thankfully, got them off the dance floor, but then unfortunately, also found them at another drink station. 

Watching Ochacko pour another cup of whatever evil punch Kaminari and Ashido had concocted and then watching her measuring out another shot of rum to add into the mix made Katsuki’s stomach roll. He shouldn’t drink that. 

Ochacko offered the drink and was beaming at him in a way that had Deku’s body overheating again, had Katsuki’s mind spiraling again. And Katsuki hated it. 

He really knew he shouldn’t, but he downed the thing anyway. Hoping that the swirling mess of emotional tug of war that was waging within him would numb like his extremities were beginning to. 

Four. 

Katsuki was to losing time. 

He could have sworn he was just out laughing at Tokoyami for him smacking head first into the sliding glass door repeatedly. So, blinking back into the present when a crackling hand slapped against the wall next to his face was beyond jarring. Katsuki shoved the body obstructing his vision away on instinct. 

It wasn’t until he fully locked onto the familiar face in front of him—red eyes blazing, cruel mouth sneering—that he realized it was Deku and that the nerd had been talking to him this whole time. 

Sound trickled back in then, slowly. He could still feel the bass of the music, but it was further off now. Deku’s words were all still gibberish but Katsuki could hear the echo of the pitches they took bounce off the walls surrounding them. A small glance to the side confirmed they were in the stairwell. Huh. 

Deku stepped back in and fisted the front of Katsuki’s shirt and all of Katsuki’s senses snapped back into some semblance of focus, if only to try and defend himself. Although, coming back to reality that quickly made the room spin. Great. 

He grabbed the wrist of the hand bunched in collar weakly. “The fuck do you want?” he managed to get out. 

“You’re being an asshole—” 

Katsuki snorted and tilted his head back, letting his eyes drift shut for some relief from the harsh lighting. That was good. Better. “What else is new.” 

“People are starting to notice,” Deku hissed and Katsuki frowned. Well, that was less good. 

“You know Tokoyami can’t see glass. You can’t dare him to race you to the trees out back while you know one of the doors is closed, wha—” 

“For fuck’s sake! It was funny,” Katsuki groaned in annoyance, trying to shove Deku’s hand away and failing. 

“And what if he’d broken through the glass or somehow made it outside, hm? Dark Shadow?” Katsuki shrugged like a child and squirmed to break free. Deku was being rough, and for what? It was just a fucking joke—  

“Outside? At night?” He bit out. Katsuki froze and finally re-opened his eyes to find Deku pinched face again. 

“Yeah, exactly. You’re being a dick. And what’s is the deal with you and Ochacko? Did you seriously push her to the ground earlier? Was that ‘funny’, too?” Deku demanded. Katsuki bared his teeth at the memory of her all over Deku’s body - like she owned it.

“That was not. Fucking funny,” he gritted out. As a matter a fact where was that sleezy bitch at anyway? Katsuki had some fucking words for her ass. 

Katsuki continued to try and break from Deku’s iron grip at his throat, but nothing was working and it was pissing him off. 

“You can’t just do whatever you want, idiot. Lay off the alcohol if you can’t control yourself. Stop being rude to everyone. And leave Ochacko alone if you can’t treat her how she deserves—” 

“And how’s that?” Katsuki snapped.  

“Wha—” 

“How does she deserve to be treated? Who the hell is she? Why do you even fucking care?” Katsuki was yelling but he could only really tell because the last word echoed around them a few times as he heaved in breaths.  

He’d wanted to get Deku alone, speak to him, be real with him, but not like this. This was embarrassing. Being reprimanded for being worse at the Quirk cover up than Deku had been. Being plastered and petty and needy. Insecure and bitchy and altogether weak. His control was slipping. On his sobriety, his coherence, his emotions. 

His string of questions rang bitter to his own ears and Katsuki wanted to kick himself when Deku leveled him with a very carefully put together blank stare. 

“Why do you care?”  

It was a different phrasing to the same question Deku had been asking. And with the look in his eyes and the even tone to his voice it sounded like it’d be the last time he’d try to get an answer. 

Katsuki immediately wanted to throw his walls up. Care? Who, me? About who? I don’t give a shit. But he stopped himself. Not only was is a boldface lie, it was also a slap to the face to both his and Deku’s feelings.  

Then he wanted to give in. This is what he’d downed copious amounts of alcohol for, right? To conjure up some modicum of courage to speak his truth. But now that the time had come he felt like there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to prepare him. Because Deku was here now. In his face, in his head.  

Katsuki could feel his stomach swooping along with the internal battle to shove Deku off or drag him closer and be a fucking man. 

He ended up just shrugging helplessly. Miserably.  

It had seemed like a safer option. Because he needed to chill the fuck out. Gain some control back in this situation or else chance further destroying whatever struggling thing there was between the two of them that became more and more strained with each passing argument. The tension between them was wound so tightly—Katsuki knew one wrong word in either direction and Deku would bolt. He couldn’t leave their chances of actually making it to the next level up to whatever would come flying out of his mouth in his current state. Dammit he should have actually thought this night through.  

Fantastic job, Katsuki. No one could fuck this situation up more than you. Always number one!  

“You don’t know,” Deku stated blandly, and Katsuki’s heart lurched to fix the direction he could feel the conversation nosediving in, but he just continued to stand there uselessly. Holy shit why did Deku always turn him into a fucking idiot. He was worse than Todoroki’s dumb ass right now.  

“Right, my mistake. Anyway,” Deku broke the silence Katsuki had let stretch on, and Katsuki’s heart beat kicked into overdrive. Deku sounded hurt, angry. Just like he had in front of the dorms earlier and Katsuki didn’t want to fuck this up again. Knew he should to say something, but what?  

You really do deserve better. But maybe...I can be better? Let me be better—  

“—gotta keep my options open.” 

Katsuki snapped out of his spiral at that. He hadn’t even noticed that Deku had finally let go of him or had moved towards the exit. Had he been talking that whole time? And he also sounded bitter, why the fuck did he sound bitter?  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki croaked, all of a sudden terrified because he had a pretty decent idea what it meant.  

He peeled himself off the wall and stumbled a bit. Fuck was he out of it. His head was swimming, his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. He couldn’t fucking focus. He didn’t understand how Deku wasn’t struggling as badly as Katsuki was. Was he even drunk? He looked fine, if just a little flushed. Maybe Katsuki was just too drunk to be able to tell. He needed some goddam water. And a bed—oh shit, a bed sounded magical— 

“ —right?” God—fuck he’d zoned out again. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want me. So, maybe, I don’t know, do me a favor and try not to completely ruin my chances with the only person who does.”  

All the sound shrieked out of the room and all Katsuki could hear was the blood rushing harshly in his ears. All he could feel was the air sawing in and out of his lungs like he’d been fighting for his life, not just failing to fight for the life he could have with Deku.  

No. 

Deku looked about as defeated as Katsuki felt in that moment as his final words bounced back around them like some cruel joke due to the ridiculous acoustics in this godforsaken room.  

No, no, no.  

The shimmer of teetering liquid at the bottom of those red eyes had Deku’s body surging forward in an attempt to comfort before Katsuki could think better of things to stop it. But it didn’t matter. By the time Katsuki actually managed to stumble to door, Deku was already gone and the door had slammed shut in his face.  

Katsuki just blinked, unseeing, at the ugly, scuffed up industrial door inches from his nose before the gravity of how bad he’d further fucked everything up had him dropping his forehead to it with a dangerous amount of force repeatedly. 

Nonononono! Stupid! Absolute fucking moron! Worthless, spineless, pathetic, sorriest excuse for a man—  

Katsuki doesn’t know how much time he lost between One-for-All-punching a hole through the concrete wall of the stairwell and ending up in an empty tub in some bathroom alone in the dark. He doesn’t know where the half bottle of whiskey clutched in his grip had come from either, but he wasn’t complaining.  

All he knew was that his chest throbbed with this bone deep ache, and that he was weak—at least when it came to Deku.  

Always when it came to Deku... 

He tipped the bottle back in hopes to alleviate some of the soul crushing hurt that was making Katsuki physically crumble under its weight.  

And falling asleep sprawled out and fully clothed in a bathtub wasn’t exactly the remedy he’d been going for, but when his eyes slipped shut, he welcomed the warm, comforting cocoon of sleep with open arms anyway. 

Five shot.  

A splash of cold water to the face had Katsuki sputtering and fumbling to sit up. That combined with the towel flung over his head before he could even open his eyes properly felt like a full-on assault. 

He activated One for All, ripped the towel away and sprung to his feet. “Son of a—” 

Todorki’s forever stale face greeted him upon reacquiring his vision and Katsuki stopped short.  

The green of the Quirk reflected eerily off the pristine white tiles of the bathroom walls and Katsuki watched it dance across Todoroki’s mismatched eyes for a few beats before he realized he wasn’t in any real danger and could shut it down. The room plunged back into darkness. 

Katsuki furtively swiped at the last few bits of water still trailing down his face and then threw his arms out wide when droplets still managed to fall from his hair into his eyes. “Why? ” 

“You left me alone and I made a fool out of myself,” Todoroki expressed seriously. 

“You do that when I’m around. What the f—” 

The high pitched, petulant whine Todoroki let out surprised Katsuki enough for him to startle and stop talking. “But it was in front of Serooo! Someone else has to feel as bad as I do. You’re it.” 

It was silent for a moment as Katsuki took in what he was saying. The irony—like anyone could feel worse than he did right now. Katsuki could seriously fucking laugh. Or cry.  

When he choked on a gasping breath, he realized he was already doing both. 

Todoroki moved quickly then. Fumbled around with the lights for a moment, blinding Katsuki momentarily, until he settled on just the backlights being on. A soft glow came from behind the mirrors and Todoroki whipped around to actually see his face. 

“What happened?” He said fiercely, all his earlier worries temporarily forgotten as he moved closer to his friend. 

Katsuki slid back into the tub, pulled his knees up, wrapped his arms around them and buried his face atop them. He tried to catch his breath, but hiding his face like this just made the hot puffs of air bounce right back at him. He felt sticky and gross and ugh.

“Go away,” he slurred out thickly.  

He wanted to be alone. He wanted to yell at Todoroki to fuck all the way off, leave him to his ridiculously sad, solo pity party, but the fight just wasn’t in him anymore. The entire day had been hard, and he was exhausted.  

So, when Todoroki decided to squeeze himself into the tub with him despite his rejection, Katsuki just...let it happen. 

“Midoriya,” he said in a softer tone that made Katsuki feel like a fucking toddler. “Is it me?” Katsuki grunted and dug his face further into his knees. “Ochacko?” Todoroki asked lightly and Katsuki just tightened his grip on the sleeves of his shirt at the mention of her name. 

He felt Todoroki lean in closer and then whisper, “Was it the frozen burritos? You know I think might've been expired. My stomach doesn’t feel great either. A lot of gas—” 

Katsuki barked out a surprised, watery laugh and shook his head in disbelief. This—guy, ugh. “You’re disgusting. Shut up,” he managed to mumble through the cage of various body parts hiding his face. 

Todoroki chuckled and leaned away a bit before his voice became serious again. “So...Bakugou, then?” 

Katsuki whipped his head up to find Todoroki watching him intently.  

Katuski’s vision was blurry at best, but Todoroki was trashed, that much was clear. His cheeks matched the color of his scar, his eyelids were low, and his speech was much slower and looser than the uptight, highbrow air it usually resonated with.  

“I heard the stairwell door slam and saw him come out looking angrier than usual. Then you stumbled out a few minutes later. I tried to get to you, but lost you in the crowd,” he explained quietly. “What happened?” He asked again, softer this time.

Katsuki blinked at him and couldn’t help but commend Todoroki on his ability to still somewhat function properly and fully comprehend the various things working against Katsuki after all the drinks he’d downed. Especially when compared to how Katsuki was faring. A sloshed mess in a tub, in some random bathr—no, this had to be the girl’s bathroom. There was no way it smelled this nice in the guys’. 

Todoroki just stared back, glazed over eyes calculating, but his face was as emotionless as ever. A bit unnerving how he always took in everything but gave nothing away. 

When Katsuki still didn’t answer, Todoroki’s expression turned concerned. And where that would usually make Katsuki want to go nuclear, the fight really had been beaten out of him today. So he sniffed, scrubbed a hand over his eyes, and sighed out miserably, “I want him.” 

There. He’d said it. Out loud for the first time. Not to the person who actually needed to hear it, but hey, progress was progress. Even if it's too little and far too late. 

Todoroki’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Obviously. But—” 

“But I shouldn’t,” Katsuki added, frowning and casting his eyes to the side. “He can do better.” 

“You could do better,” he emphasized. He sounded angry.

Katsuki was confused for a moment before he remembered just who Todoroki thought he was talking to right now. He huffed a self-depreciating laugh through his nose. So, they were in agreement. Deku could do better than Katsuki. 

Katsuki just hummed some noncommittal noise and sighed heavily.  

“I honestly don’t know what you see in him,” Todoroki pressed on and it was weird, them taking the same position on something for the first time ever. Because Katsuki didn’t know what Deku saw either and the pounding at his temples continued to grow stronger the more he tried to figure out an answer. 

Katsuki shut his eyes and struggled to wade through the waves of inebriation. His ability to respond, or even focus was about as unsteady as sand shifting beneath his feet. Fighting the tide was getting much harder. Trying not to become fully submerged was nearing impossible.  

Thinking felt like the hardest thing in the world right now. Especially thinking about how Deku would answer Todoroki’s question, how he should answer, what the truth was, if he was ready to face it. So, he just gave up and answered as himself, as Katsuki. Why he wanted Deku, even if that wasn’t what Todoroki was asking. Whatever. Hopefully they were both drunk enough to forget this whole conversation later.

“He’s perfect,” Katsuki finally admitted. Annoying and bullheaded and irritating and sweet and genuine and selfless and...fuck—perfect. 

Todoroki scoffed. “Then what does that make you?” he demanded.  

Katsuki scrunched up in his nose, drew his eyebrows together. “I’m...a mess. The worst. I—I mean, shit,” he cursed under his breath, caught the slip. “H-He treated me so badly and I still want him. Stupid. Don’t deserve...” Katsuki was losing track of who he was narrating for. He took a deep breath and tried again. “He’s perfect and I’m—me, I—”  

Todoroki let out some long-suffering sigh that had Katsuki cracking his eyes open to look at him blearily. “Kacchan’s so perfect,”  Todoroki said in the same voice he’d used to imitate Deku earlier in the kitchen, but this time he made a show of rolling his eyes. He fixed Katsuki with a deadpan look. “You talk about him like he’s God’s gift to this world. So amazing. So smart! So strong! And handsome—and on and on and on,” he groused.  

Katsuki frowned at him wondering what the point of all this was. Todoroki frowned back. “You’re a prize too, Izuku,” he said finally. Quietly, but with feeling.  

He leaned back, threw his arms over the sides of the tub and gave a shrug. “Bakugou is...alright, I guess.” Katsuki was thoroughly shocked by this admission. “He’s not nearly as scary as he thinks he is and he acts all tough and macho, but I saw him cry at you when we did our first rounds of battle trials,” Todoroki laughed and Katsuki scowled. 

“There is good in him somewhere—deep—that I can see, and also think you’re putting too much stock in. But still good nonetheless,” he allowed. “And he seems to be very devoted to the things he’s serious about, which would be good if that included you,” he pondered a bit. “But, yeah. You’re still giving him too much credit. Bakugou—he's just a guy, just like me, just like you. We all have our flaws...” Todoroki just seemed to rambling now and Katsuki wondered if he’d given him too much credit thinking the idiot was capable of higher levels of thinking while intoxicated.  

Katsuki zoned back into his droning when Todoroki kicked his foot lightly to get his attention again. 

“Anyway. You know I'm not the biggest fan of the idea of you two getting together, but you’re clearly miserable apart, so I’m just going to say it. You’re standing in your own way worrying about the past.” Katsuki startled at how this was slap of reality meant for Katsuki and somehow Todoroki was spinning it perfectly to work into his pep talk for ‘Deku’.  

“Anyone with eyes can see that neither of you are the same people you were when you first got here. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself and embrace the change and see where it takes you! Or continue crying in random corners around the school. Your choice,” he finished with raised hands and an expression that made it clear he was wiping his hands of the whole situation. 

Katsuki considered him and his words for a long moment. He’d never been around Todoroki long enough to hear him speak more than a few monotone words at a time. None of which were very impressive and were, more often than not, infuriatingly irritating and rather dense—similar to the way he was dragging on just a few moments ago. So, this whole spiel he’d just given about letting the past be the past was rather...profound. Almost unnervingly so.... 

Katsuki nodded curtly at the suggestions and then decided to shift subjects, because he suddenly felt very seen in a situation where he was supposed to be blending in. 

“Big talk for a guy crying in the same random corner over a guy,” Katsuki pointed out. 

The serious look in Todoroki’s eyes dropped, despair painted over his features, and he groaned into his hands. “Don’t remind me,” he said before he reached for the bottle still in the tub with them and tipped it up and back. 

Katsuki was willing to drop it, but Todoroki had just helped him out. Kind of. So, he should probably try to reciprocate, right? Right. That’s what friends do, and they were friends—No, he and Deku were friends.  

Whatever. 

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” he tried to sound reassuring. 

Todoroki took another swig then thrust the bottle to Katsuki. Katsuki took it and waited. Ended up taking a gulp himself when Todoroki looked at him expectantly to do so. This seemed to relax him enough to finally share. 

“They did a fashion show. I don’t know why. Aoyama was very excited,” Todoroki said in a rush and Katsuki shook his head at the memory of the sparkly asshole coming up with the idea a few days prior. “Anyway, Sero was in it. And Yaomomo, that witch,”  he said so vehemently Katsuki raised his eyebrows. “She made clothes for him to wear. And he looked so good—Midoriya, you have no idea. I—” 

The bathroom door swung open then and they both froze. They were in a sectioned off part of the room, so no one could see them from the entrance. Likewise, they couldn’t see who was at the door. 

“Todoroki?” It was Sero. 

Todoroki’s eyes widened in horror. Katsuki smacked his arm when he went forever without answering. Todoroki shook his head and Katsuki sneered. Time for a little friendly push. 

“He’s in here,” Katsuki called and Todoroki looked utterly betrayed.  

“Oh, Midoriya, what—um, ok. Well, we’re having a little side thing up on the roof if you guys want to join?” He said it like a question and then it was quiet again for a bit. “Todoroki, it’d be super awesome if you’d join.” 

Todoroki had his head in his hands again, so Katsuki answered again.  

“We’ll be there. Just, uh, give us a minute, we’re stuck in the tub, so.” 

“Uh...sure,” he said slowly, confusion evident in every word, as he let the door shut again. 

“Why would you tell him we'd go?” Todoroki hissed immediately afterwards. 

Katsuki didn’t have an answer, until he suddenly did. “You’re standing in your own way, too,” he said with more confidence than he’d felt since Deku poured his heart out in an explosive rage all those hours ago. He still felt like shit, but one of them might’ve still had a chance of turning this night around. Might as well see that through to success. 

“I puked all over his shoes after the fashion show!” he whisper-yelled emphatically. “I can’t look him in the eye!” 

Or maybe they were both doomed... 

Wait. 

“You sipped off of this and then gave it to me? ” Katsuki was hissing now too, shaking the bottle still in his hand with a flourish. 

“Oh, relax. I drank some water afterwards, you’re fine,” he brushed it off quickly like this was some trivial issue to be worrying about.  

“You're disgusting,” Katsuki reiterated with a curled lip. “But for whatever reason, that beanpole out there wants you anyway. So what are you going to do about it, huh?” 

Todoroki looked nervous for another few seconds before he visibly steeled his resolve, snatched the bottle back, and drank deeply. When he shoved it back to Katsuki and stood up shakily there was barely a swallow’s worth left at the bottom of it. Katsuki downed the rest of it (not before making a show of thoroughly wiping down the lip of it with his shirt), because why the hell not at this point.

Todoroki let out a warbling exhale, stood, and extended his hand. “Let’s go before I throw up again.” 

Six shot.  

Katsuki should’ve stayed in the goddam tub. 

Todoroki all but carried him to the roof's entrance door, where they both stopped and leaned against to catch their breath upon reaching it.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this. There’s a perfectly good party still going on downstairs. We could just go back and—”  

“Stop being a coward,” Katsuki said like he hadn’t been anything but a fucking coward all day. He slumped to the ground with his eyes closed. The room was tilting and twirling again. 

He could hear Todoroki just shifting from foot to foot fretfully beside him, contemplating. Katsuki sighed. 

“Just crack the door open and take a look. If you don’t think you can handle it we’ll leave, alright?” He cracked an eye open and watched Todoroki nod with determination. Katsuki nodded, too, and shut his eyes again as he heard the small squeak of the metal door opening just a crack.  

Voices filtered in then. 

“—can’t believe you missed it! Literally the more she took off, the less we saw it was hilarious, oh, my G—” 

“Kaminari. Please,” a voice Katsuki didn’t quite recognize cut the idiot off mid-story. By some miracle this person actually got Kaminari to shut up with only that. There was a pause and then the mystery voice spoke again. 

“Truth or dare?” It drawled lazily.  

Then a way too familiar voice answered, “Truth.” 

Katsuki sat up, tried not to barf with the quick movement, and shoved around Todoroki’s legs to see the loose circle of mismatched chairs his classmates had made under the starry sky. Deku had been the one to answer the question, but when Katsuki found him amongst everyone he looked to be in some sort of trance.  

“Tokoyami?” the original voice prompted. 

Katsuki craned his neck more to see who it was and almost chocked when he saw the lavender mane and outrageous eye bags. Shinsou was hosting a game of truth or dare. 

Katsuki was immediately on edge. 

Tokoyami looked better than the last time Katsuki had seen him, when he was breaking his face on a sliding glass door. When he spoke, it was in that same overly serious, somber manor he always did. “Would you trust any of your peers with your life?” 

Shinsou shook his head. “I can’t make them speak. You need to ask something more direct. Ask him to point to someone or nod or something,” he clarified in a bored one.  

Katsuki found this odd. Why was Shinsou not giving the instructions? Either way it was dangerous to be around him in their condition. Why the hell was Deku even here? 

Tokoyami nodded and tried again. “Point to the person here you would most trust with your life.” 

“You heard him, Bakugou. Have at it,” Shinsou instructed and Deku moved automatically. 

His arm stretched out robotically and then he very slowly turned his pointed finger back in towards himself and poked his own chest. Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. 

That meant him, right? Katsuki? It just looked like ‘Bakugou’ was pointing at himself, but it was really Deku pointing at Katsuki. Right? Fuck. Maybe? Katsuki was at the point in his evening where higher cognitive thinking was the equivalent of an Olympic sport, and he really deserved goddam gold for even making to this far, honestly.   

A collective scoff of disbelief went around the circle. “Leave it to Bakugou to be this conceited,” Jirou snorted as she blew out a large cloud of smoke.  

Katsuki ignored the jab and focused in on the rising vapor like a hawk. “What is that? The smoke?” he asked Todoroki quietly, maybe he had a better angle. 

“Um...it looks like a cigarette? No, not really. I don’t know. They’re passing a few around,” he said in confusion. Katsuki felt a cold sweat start to prickle along his neck. “Oh, wait! Do you think its Marijuana?” Todoroki asked in a hushed tone. What a loser. 

Katsuki woozily made his way to his feet, and pointedly did not answer because the asshole sounded way too excited about the prospect of illicit drugs.  

Katsuki tried for a friendly smile that most likely looked like he’d come back from the dentist after a getting a Novocain shot. “You know what, buddy? I think you’re right. We should just go back to the party,” he tried, tugging on Todoroki’s sleeve so they could turn around. 

Katsuki didn’t need to be here—Deku shouldn’t be here—he could barely think straight. Now he’d be expected to work against two different mind fuck Quirks and partake in another substance that would further incapacitate him? Yeah, no. Not a chance. No fucking way— 

“No, no, wait...” Todoroki said like he was considering staying as he continued to peer out of the small crack he’d made in the door. “This could be fun.” 

“Nah, I don’t think it would be,” Katsuki said probably a bit too quickly while probably shaking his head a little too fast. 

Todoroki looked at him quizzically, then back at the group outside. “...They look like they’re having fun.” 

Katsuki tried for a tinkling laugh, but really it just came out sputtered and strained. “No, no, trust me. They’re being mind controlled to do embarrassing crap. You don’t wanna do that. You’ve already embarrassed yourself in front of Sero enough tonight, right?” he asked in concern, stroking Todoroki’s arm soothingly. (Don’t ever let it be said Katsuki wasn’t a fantastic fucking actor. He’d never been a sympathetic friend in his life, but here he was milking it for all it was worth.) 

Todoroki winced and Katsuki knew he'd gone for a low blow, but what the fuck ever. It was self-preservation time right now.  

Todoroki looked like he was considering leaving again and Katsuki was silently cheering at his victory when Todoroki’s expression suddenly turned determined. 

Oh, fuck me.  

“I’ve already embarrassed myself and he still wanted me to come here, so that has to mean something,” he decided. “I’m going.” 

“Fine,” Katsuki snapped in irritation, dropping the endearing friend act carelessly. “Well, I’m not.” He tried to leave and almost fell straight on his face. 

“Now who’s being a coward?” Todoroki asked, unamused. “Also, you can’t get anywhere without me, so.”  

“Fine! Then I’ll just sit here,” he plopped down on the ground and crossed his arms. 

“Midoriya, you’re being childish.” 

“I’ll show you fuckin' childish.” 

Todoroki looked taken aback, then frowned and grabbed for Katsuki’s arms. Katsuki laid flat out to dodge him and retaliated by kicking him in the shin. 

“Ow! What is wrong with you?” 

“Leave me alone!” 

They had been full on wrestling for a few minutes when the door opened to Sero looking very concerned. They both froze. “Um,” Sero laughed nervously. “Everything alright, guys?”  

Todoroki shoved off of Katsuki so fast his head smacked against the floor with the force of it, the bastard. He stood and was panting lightly as he batted mismatched eyelashes up at Sero. “No—no problem, we were just about to join in. Right, Midoriya?”  

Katsuki flipped him off. Todoroki kicked his leg hard enough to bruise in response.

Sitting under the stars was nice.  

Sitting under the stars while your peers have uncontrolled laughing fits from illegal drug use while also having your mind fucked with by some zombie freak was not at all nice. 

But the fact that both Ochacko and Deku were both here was the worst fact of all. 

Ochacko was basically in Katsuki’s lap, but what could he do? Deku had just reamed him out about being nicer to the chick. He couldn't really push her off the roof like he’d like to (Relax. The bitch can float, she’d be fine). So, he endured the torture of her whispering in his ear and hanging all over him in enraged silence. 

The game was still going on. Apparently, Shinsou having full control over the game made people uneasy. So, he just controlled the ‘truth or dare’ portion of it while others came up with the actual questions or dares. He was just there to make the game more “high risk”. Stupidest shit Katsuki had ever heard, because if Shinsou couldn’t make someone speak then every turn was basically a dare. Katsuki didn’t have the energy to point out how ridiculous this whole thing was. And the idiot’s were having fun, so who was he to stop them? 

Plus, he never really got picked, which was fine by him. It was probably because he looked like death warmed over. At least he felt that shitty anyway. He was half asleep on the chair when Shinsou announced it was Ochacko’s turn and she squealed for whatever ungodly reason, which roused Katsuki from his dozing.  

“Who’s going for her?” Shinsou asked as he took another drag from one of the joints floating around. 

“I will!” Yaoyorozu volunteered.  

Yes, miss prim-and-proper-number-one-in-the-class herself was here, too. This whole group was the strangest mix up of their class. How the fuck the likes of Yoayorozu and Koda had ended up here with hair for brains and the electro-idiot was beyond Katsuki, but he was way too out of it to even pretend to care.  

“Truth or dare?” Shinsou asked. 

“Dare,” Ochacko answered seriously. She sounded determined in a way that Katsuki found mildly concerning. He followed Ochacko’s gaze to Yoayorozu, who was giving an equally concerning smile before she said, “I dare you to shotgun Midoriya.”  

The rest of the circle murmured excitedly, and Katsuki looked around in confusion. “What?”  

Shinsou smirked then looked over at Sero and handed him the joint. “Wanna demonstrate?” 

Sero’s quickly flared red, which was glaringly obvious even with the scarce lighting from the clouded over moon. He faced Todoroki and explained what he was going to do. They were too far away for Katsuki to hear, but Todoroki seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack after hearing what Sero had to say.  

Sero sparked up again after Todoroki agreed to whatever was happening. He took in a drag, caught Todoroki’s jaw in his hand and brought him in until they were face-to-face. Todoroki was visibly shaking, whether it was with anticipation or nerves Katsuki didn’t know, but Sero didn’t seem to mind. He pressed gently into the sides of Todoroki’s jaw for him to open up and when he did, Sero exhaled the smoke smoothly into his mouth.  

It was, unfortunately, incredibly erotic. Not so unfortunate for Todoroki, clearly, but for Katsuki because now he had to do it with fucking Ochacko.  

Todoroki closed his mouth as the last of the smoke was expelled and Sero smiled at him sheepishly from where he was still inches away from Todoroki’s face. Todoroki hesitated for only a moment and then lunged forward to push their lips together. Sero let out a surprised squeak, but wrapped Todoroki up in his arms almost immediately after.  

The whole group cheered, and Shinsou just rolled his eyes.  

“The kissing doesn’t have to be part of it,” Shinsou was sure to clarify. “Anyway. Ochacko, you heard the lady,” he instructed. 

Someone handed her one of the other joints and she took it, her movements slow and jerky from Shinsou’s Quirk. 

Katsuki was freaking out. He’d managed to get out of taking a hit so far because he’d basically been comatose. He didn’t necessarily care if he tried weed, he just didn’t want to be any more fucked up than he already was. And he seriously didn’t want to shotgun with Ochacko—like, ever. But especially not it Deku’s body, what the fuck? 

He didn’t have much more time to think about it because soon enough Ochacko had a solid grip on his face and was forcing his mouth open. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and found it was Yaoyorozu bouncing up and down in excitement and Katsuki felt a growl rumble in his chest at the revelation that this was her doing. 

Todoroki was right. She was a fucking witch, stirring the pot all around this train wreck of a party. It seemed Katsuki’s shit list once all this was over was going to be a mile long and include most, if not every single one, of the girls in this damn class since he could hear Ashido trying to restrain a squeal of excitement, too. 

Ochacko finally blew into his mouth and it was every bit as bitter and disgusting as Katsuki imagined it would be. Nothing about this was anywhere near as arousing to Katsuki as Todoroki and Sero’s had been, but Deku’s body was still - reacting to it as if it was.  

Kastuski could feel his face heat, his chest tighten, hands begin to shake. He wanted to grit his teeth against the urge to drag her closer in, but she had a truly outrageous grip on his jaw. This was making him want to puke, but he could feel Deku’s eyes boring into him from the other side of the circle, so he let it all happen without any resistance. If being cordial with Ochacko got him back in Deku’s good graces then so be it. It's probably the least he could do, really.   

Besides, it was over soon enough. The little crowd of people cheered when the last of the smoke had slipped past her lips and in through his, and Shinsou deactivated his Quirk.  

But then Ochacko’s eyes came back into focus while she was still right in Katsuki’s face. Katsuki shifted to begin to put space back between them, but then she flicked her gaze down to his lips, and before Katsuki could even register what that meant she was kissing him just like Todoroki had done in the demonstration.  

More cheering ensued and Katsuki fought everything in himself not to Detroit Smash Ochacko through five floors of concrete. Instead, he sat there and suffered for the longest fifteen seconds of his life. When she mercifully leaned back and beamed at him, all Katsuki could muster was an extremely forced smile that most likely was just him baring his teeth like some kind of feral dog. 

Katsuki caught sight of Deku across the circle and he was literally steaming. Small sparks going off in his palms. He was glaring at Katsuki with murderous intent and only calmed down when Kirishima took notice and ordered him to chill out. 

Katsuki was angry, too (for obvious reasons), but also overwhelmingly confused. He’d done what Deku wanted. He was playing nice with his other “option”. What the fuck else did he want from him? 

Things carried on as they had been. People spilled secrets they’d probably never tell a soul in a regular game of truth or dare, thanks to Shinsou. It was stupid and childish, but Katsuki was on another plane of existence, so it was tolerable. 

He’d only had the one hit from Ochacko, but Katsuki was seriously out of it. He’d catch himself just staring up at the sky for unknown periods of time, or at Deku. Who, when Katsuki would come back down to Earth and took notice of where he was looking, would be glaring back at him. He’d always avert his gaze then and start the cycle over again. Ochacko was a constant annoyance in the background, white noise that he couldn’t even begin to focus on, thankfully, because he was a walking cocktail of substances.  

Eventually all the joints were worn down to buds after several more rounds and the entire group was hardly coherent anymore. But everyone perked up a bit when Tokoyami all of a sudden shot up, determined.  

“I choose Koda.” 

Koda looked very nervous all of a sudden, as he should. Tokoyami had said it like he was declaring war. Katsuki sat up a bit straighter, causing Ochacko’s head to fall off his shoulder and her to sputter awake. Kirishima made a childish Oooo sound like Koda had just been called to the principal's office to which Ashido laughed a little too loudly at. Shinsou just arched an eyebrow. 

“Alright. Koda. Truth or dare?” 

Koda looked like he was choosing between a red or blue wire to defuse a bomb. “Um...truth?” 

His eyes lost all their life and Tokoyami said very gravely, “Nod your head if you have control over people with animal-based Quirks the same as you do actual animals.”  

You could hear everyone on the roof collectively suck in a sharp breath. And the tension of everyone holding that same breath was palpable. Even Shinsou looked halfway interested in a question for the first time all night. 

Koda nodded his head once and everything immediately fell apart.  

A few of the girls shrieked with surprised laughter. Todoroki’s eyes went as wide as Katsuki had ever seen them. Shinsou was wheezing with laughter so hard that his hold on Koda broke and the poor sap started crying on the spot. “No, wait! I’m sorry. I would never! Un-well, you know unless I had to , but—”  

Tokoyami stood up in an instant, heading to the door like fire was licking at his heels. “I must notify Tsu,” he said grimly. 

Koda stumbled to reach him before he opened the door. “No, no, no. Please—” 

Tokoyami gave one more dramatic look over his shoulder. “Betrayal never comes from one’s enemies.” And then he was gone. Everyone was hysterical for the next several minutes. 

Eventually, things calmed again, and nothing else nearly as entertaining happened afterwards, so they all decided to head back to see what was still happening downstairs. Ochacko had to help Katsuki up because the useless candy cane dickhead was too busy with his new tape slinging boyfriend to remember who gave him the balls to come up here in the first place. Typical. 

Though, he supposed he was happy for the dumbass. He’d managed to do what Katsuki couldn’t. And Katsuki had helped with that, so that made him feel...good about himself? He guessed? Of course, Deku still seething at him every time they made eye contact made him feel like shit, so that counteracted nicely. Life’s all about balance. 

Ochacko took him out of his pondering with another tight grip to the face and more smoke blown into his mouth. Katsuki inhaled sharply in surprise and choked on the hot air he hadn’t been expecting. Ochacko just fucking giggled at him hacking up a lung and kissed him again without warning and Katsuki was seriously considering murdering the girl.  

They were all in the elevator when the second shotgun hit Katsuki square in the face.

They were all on the common room couch when Katsuki passed out for the second time in as many hours. 

Seven shot.  

Katsuki needed to stop coming to with Deku bodily pinning him up against some random wall. It was a very upsetting way to come back to reality. And the violent red eyes doing an equally efficient job of pinning him in place were an especially harsh feature to first take in. 

“Where are we?” Katsuki groaned out groggily while blinking slowly at his fuzzy surroundings. It looked like some sort of closest, but the small amount of light coming from a lightbulb on its last leg didn’t help in proving that theory correct at all. 

“Kitchen pantry,” Deku answered, pushing off of Katsuki to cross his arms and sneer down at him.  

Awesome he’s still in a mood. Didn’t luck out and sleep through that.  

Katsuki used his now free arms to rub across his eyes and blink a few more times, he squinted at the shelf next to him with various non-perishables, and sure enough, they were in the kitchen pantry. 

“Ok...why?” 

“Hall closest was occupied,” he answered just as curtly, like that summed up anything. 

Katsuki took a deep breath and tried, he really did, to figure out what was happening. But he was so tired, and thinking too hard right now had him feeling like Kaminari after a math test. So, he just sighed in defeat. “Alright. I’m lost. Why—specifically—are we in a pantry?” 

Deku pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Some seven minutes in heaven thing. They drew names. We got picked. Ochacko cried. It was a whole thing, were you really asleep through all of it?” 

“Apparently,” Katsuki mumbled, still struggling to keep up. He’d actually made Ochacko cry and had fucking missed it. A shame. And now he was locked in a pantry with Deku for— 

“Hold on. They just let you drag my unconscious body into a closet for seven minutes in heaven? This class needs to have a serious talk about consenting,” Katsuki barely knew what was coming out of his mouth. His lips were loose and his grip on this conversation somehow even looser. “When is Mic scheduled for the sex ed class? I mean, honestly—” 

“Will you shut up!” Deku yelled out of nowhere. Katsuki was taken aback enough to become angry. Naturally.  

“The fuck’s your problem?” 

“You, Kacchan.You are my problem.” 

Oh, yeah, Katsuki's anger was in full swing again. “'Fuck did I do? I passed as you, didn’t I? Played nice with that icy-hot idiot. Let the sloppy gravity chick suck my face like you asked—” 

“I never said to kiss her,” he said in a tone so low and menacing Katsuki almost thought about shutting up like Deku had asked.  

Almost. 

“Wha—It's not like I had any say in kissing her! You think I wanted that? It was disgusting, are you serious?” Katsuki had to choke back a gag just thinking about it. “But you made it pretty fucking clear you wanted her and not me in that stairwell. I’m just keeping your fucking options open, right?” 

Deku dragged his hands down his face with enough force to seem painful. “So, all you heard was I needed to keep my options open and you just—gave up, huh?” 

“What the hell else did you want me to do?” 

“Try! Fucking—fight back? Something! Literally anything else!” 

Katsuki didn’t know if his headache could get any worse, but it was damn well trying its best. 

He could feel the beginning of another hysteric laugh-crying starting up again, too. He couldn’t catch a break tonight. “I can’t play these stupid mind games with you, Deku. Say what you damn well mean. I am drunk, or high, or whatever the fuck and I am losing it right now, so just—” 

“You know, this whole night I’ve been helping Kirishima win over Ashido?” Deku cut in. 

Katsuki’s handle on just what the hell this conversation was about was slipping rapidly. He was so lost by the drastic turn in topic he couldn’t even respond. Deku pushed on regardless, agitation clear within every feature of his drastically shadowed face, every syllable in his words. 

“All night he went on and on about how you were just the best for helping to get them together. You two had a whole plan worked out, even! Were just waiting on a party. With the dance battle since Ashido loves dancing, going up to see the stars—it was all very romantic. And really well thought out. Diligent. Obviously your doing, am I right? I mean Kirishima’s sweet and all, but he’s not all that bright, you know?” 

Katsuki didn’t even get to attempt to answer before Deku was jumping down his throat again.  

“And I’m just thinking to myself. Wow. Kacchan really does have this kind, passionate side to him. What, with the speech and this whole planned love confession made up for his friends. Amazing, as always.” The praise had a nasty bite and Katsuki flinched away from it. “But then you constantly contradict yourself! Like, yeah, ok, awesome speech - but then you lie right to my face about wanting to be with me.” Katsuki tried to protest, but Deku was on a roll. “Sure! Help your friends—Oh and mine, can’t forget! I know you’re the one who pushed Todoroki and Sero together, fantastic job with that, by the way—help everyone make their relationships happen, but shit all over ours,” Deku laughed harshly with zero humor. 

“You have got to be the most backwards—infuriating—asshole I have ever—” 

“So, what the fuck is the point of this whole monologue, huh?” Katsuki was breathing heavily and fighting to hold back tears. Whether they were Deku’s body’s or his own was a toss-up. They were both a cluster fuck of emotions right now. 

He sniffed loudly and tried to clear his throat of the heart currently choked up within it. He splayed his arms as far as they could go in the tiny space they shared. “I’m a piece of shit, right? That’s not news Deku, I—” 

“The point,” he snarled out. “Is that you are capable of understanding emotions. Caring sentiments. But not with me, right?” 

“What—” 

Deku was clearly fighting himself from full out screaming at Katsuki’s inability to keep up with his line of thinking. “You see, ” he emphasized. “Possibilities for literally everyone else—but not for us.” 

The room fell into a quiet so fragile, so close to imploding that Katsuki didn’t dare move in fear of breaking it, triggering any more rage. He finally had an opening to speak, but he had a feeling if he did, they’d never get back to this point again.  

“Why are we so different?” Deku finally demanded. “Hah?” he imitated Katsuki’s harsh tone a little too well and Katsuki actually jumped in response to the sharp contrast of it within the still room. “Tell me!” Deku yelled and Katsuki blanched. Pressed himself further into the wall. Looked pointedly down and away. Deku’s body was folding in on itself like it was conditioned to become as small as it could in wake of that thunderous voice screaming at him.  

It drove Katsuki’s reasonings as to why they wouldn’t work out home even further. 

Deku stepped in closer. “Fucking, speak—” 

“Look at us!” Katsuki brought his head back up to look Deku in the face as a trail of hot tears were streaking from the corner of his eyes. “We’re a fucking mess. You may think you’re ready, but you’re still subconsciously terrified of me!” 

Deku stuttered slightly on his response. “I-I’m. I’m not—” 

“Jesus fuck, you are!” Katsuki exclaimed a bit manically. “Your body is leaking tears just from hearing my voice raised towards it. Its fucking cowering away from you!” he pointed with both hands at the towering blonde form before him and got even more pissed when he saw the slight tremble to them. 

“It's just overstimulated. I’m working on not shutting down when I get that way, just—” Katsuki cut him off. Even if that were the case it didn’t really change anything. Katsuki was still the bad guy in Deku’s fairytale. No matter how much he wanted to be his knight in shining armor now.  

“I help Kirishima with Ashido because they fucking make sense. We don’t make any sense! We? Us—together? —makes no sense.” He tried for a bitter laugh, but it just came out as a choked off sob with how Deku’s body was responding to everything. 

“To you,” Deku shot back defiantly, but his voice was beginning to waver, too. 

Katsuki gave a weak laugh in response. “Yeah, Ok, genius. Tell me. If we’re just fucking meant to be together, then why do you feel so much better around her than you do me, huh?” 

Deku looked at him like he’d started speaking another language. “Her?—Wha—Ochacko?” 

“Who. Else?” Katsuki spat back. 

“I. Do. Not. Want. Ochacko.” He enunciated each word like he was explaining something incredibly simple to an extremely dense five-year-old.  

Katsuki just scoffed. “Your body actually melts into a puddle when she comes into view, Deku. Cut the shit— ” 

A surprised shriek from outside is all the warning they got before the tiny light bulb above them shattered. A good handful of people screamed and then the room fell into complete darkness.  

“We're ok!" Jirou announced loudly. "Kaminari just short circuited."

The only thing that could be heard in the void of darkness they were now trapped in was their labored breathing. Deku’s was a bit more erratic, Katsuki could almost hear his internalized counting for when to breathe in and when to exhale.  

When Deku finally spoke again it was still a bit strained, but softer now. Gentler.  

“How many times since we switched have you been close enough to your own body to even know how mine reacts to it?” 

Katsuki thought this was an incredibly stupid question.  

“I’ve been around it from the beginning, Deku. Everyday. Enough to know each time we get close your body feels like it's going into a meltdown" he answered truthfully, if a bit angrily. 

“And you always push away before it actually does, right?” 

Katsuki thought back to each time they’d been face-to-face, chest-to-chest over the past few days. Every time they made any sort of contact, Katsuki had moved away first, blown up first, run away first...And that’s how it had always been between them. Deku had always been braver. Not that he’d ever hear that from the likes of Katsuki, but it was true. 

“Right...” Katsuki conceded. 

“Right,” Deku parroted. He kept talking in slow, easy tones. Katsuki didn’t know for whose benefit it was more for, but it was working wonders in bringing down Katsuki’s temper. “Now, tell me what it feels like being around Ochacko?” 

Katsuki heaved an agitated sigh. “Like you’re putty in her hands. Soft. Cute,” he ground it out like it was some ugly word. 

Katsuki felt calloused hands close around both his wrists then, and he jerked back without hesitation, ready to flee from the contact yet again, but Deku was prepared for that it seemed. Held him fast. Pulled him in until their top halves were flush together, toes of their scuffed to hell dress shoes bumping, and forced Katsuki to stay.

“Wait,” Deku said gently. 

Katsuki felt that combustion feeling starting up in his core again immediately, and if Deku wasn’t keeping him in his place he’d have danced away from the fire without a second thought.  

It was an uncomfortable kind of warmth, and it was spreading out to his extremities rapidly. All encompassing, frightening. Like if a code-red drill was a feeling. Alarms were blaring, panic and adrenaline spiking, heart racing. Katsuki was helpless to evade it now that Deku was making him experience it to the end. And when the pressure inside of him built until Katsuki thought it would explode—it actually did. 

But there was no destruction or violence caused by the blast. No devastation or demolition or razing. Nothing at all like how Katsuki had come to intimately know what an explosion consisted of. 

No. This was a Supernova.  

Something unimaginably breathtaking and bright, composed of indescribable colors and sensations. Katsuki had no idea how something so powerful could exist inside someone without ripping them apart. But then again, Deku had always been irritatingly resilient.  

Yes, something as magnificent as a Supernova had to be born out of a star collapsing, nothing that brilliant can exist without stamping out something equally as daunting; but an ending is essentially just a new beginning. And Katsuki could feel the hope of that all throughout Deku’s body. Little sparks of hope making his skin tingle and heart swell to near bursting.  

This was nothing like Katsuki had imagined, not even close. This...this was special. Powerful, meaningful—important. 

“Still think I feel better around Ochacko?” Deku murmured against the curls laying haphazardly across Katsuki’s forehead. 

Katsuki let out a wobblily breath and knocked his forehead against Deku’s chest. Didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Just continued to let this surge of happiness roll over him as he breathed in his scent.  

Deku sighed heavily and sounded like he was going to speak again, but Katsuki went first.  

“Fucking...Todoroki said—”

Deku cut in with a playful groan. “You two talked about you?” he sounded embarrassed.  

“Yeah. He’s surprisingly not...the worst...” Katsuki really had to work to get that admission out. 

“Oh, so you like him now? That’s—” 

“Not on his fucking life,” Katsuki denied vehemently. 

Deku laughed. “Are you sure? Becau—”  

“Deku, shut up, I’m trying to say some emotional shit here. Do you want to actually hear it or not?” 

Deku stifled another laugh, but didn’t say anything else. 

Katsuki took a steadying breath and picked up where he’d been cut off.  “He said...I was standing in my own way. Worrying about our past,” Katsuki said quietly. “He was talking to you, but I feel like it applied more to me. Because you don’t seem to give a shit about our past, if you’re this willing to forget it.” 

Deku sounded affronted when he guaranteed, “No one said anything about forgetting the past.” Katsuki smiled to himself in the dark. Deku wasn’t taking his shit lying down anymore. Good. That was very good. 

“I just know we aren’t those kids anymore, Kacchan. We aren't who we were when we first got to UA either. Or even since this whole situation with the swap Quirk started. People change—feelings change.” 

“He said that, too,” Katsuki gave a small, disbelieving laugh. He’d never—ever—say it out loud, but maybe icy-hot was alright after all... 

“Well, he’s right,” Deku agreed. “Old Kacchan would have never acknowledged his mistakes. Let alone regretted them enough to refuse himself of something he wanted until he actually righted those wrongs. You care enough to want to get it right, and that means everything,” Deku insisted fervently and Katsuki was either really fucked up or having some kind of out of body experience.  

Because Deku speaking to him in his own voice, in the dark of the pantry, made it sound like Katsuki was forgiving himself. Like his inner voice was telling him it was ok to want Deku, to be brave. Ok that he’s a work in progress. Ok to embrace their past and still look forward to their future.  

And it was so cathartic. Katsuki'd had Deku’s voice in his head for so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to think in his own.  

Katuski urged Deku to let go of his wrists and proceeded to wrap his arms around Deku’s middle. It felt like returning to center. Katsuki hadn’t been this grounded probably ever. Why did he ever try to push this away? 

“Old Deku would’ve never stood up to me the way you have the past few days,” Katsuki lightened the mood with a mock scoff. “Was pretty hot, though,” he allowed. 

Deku laughed and the movement of it jostled Katsuki a bit. Reminded him of just how much of each other they were touching. And how nice it felt to not have to creep around on eggshells with him, pretend like he didn’t care, like having feelings for Deku was some kind of crime. It turned out talking (or screaming) through your issues actually makes things easier. What a concept. 

“Exactly,” Deku said. “We aren’t the same kids you keep imagining us as in your head. We’ve always been together, but we’ve lived separate lives, too. We don’t know as much about one another as we thought we did, you know? Like who knew you danced ballet?”  

Katsuki pointedly ignored diving into that conversation. “Who knew you were actually the one to take down Stain?” 

Deku stiffened in his hold. “How do you know that? Did Todoroki say something? He was supposed to keep his mouth shut.”  

Katsuki snickered. “You couldn’t be mad at him even if he did, he would’ve thought he was talking to you. But no, it popped up in one of your dreams. You’ve gotten surprisingly badass here recently,” Katsuki admitted.  

“And you’re a closet sap, apparently,” Deku tacked on, much to Katsuki’s disgruntled displeasure. “See? And we just figured all this out in the past handful of days. We’ll get there.”  

“We’ll get there...” Katsuki repeated slowly. The small smile continued to tug at the corners of his mouth. That sounded nice. Right. 

“I just need you to stop running away from me, Kacchan. Please,” he urged, quietly pleading for something Katsuki should’ve given him a long time ago.  

Katsuki will blame it on the long day in the heat, the run in with the invisible man, the copious amounts of alcohol, the weed, overall general exhaustion—literally anything other than the nerd making him feel weak in the knees—but for the first time in his life, Kasuki gave into Deku. 

“I can do better,” he said earnestly. This seemed to please Deku enough for him to relax further in Katsuki’s grasp. 

“And...” 

“And?” Deku sounded apprehensive now, tense all over again. Still a freaking anxious nerd.  

Katsuki threw all caution to the wind. All his reservations, all his worries, everything that had been holding him back from letting Deku know how he actually felt. Because Katsuki would be damned if Todoroki managed to grow a pair tonight and he didn’t.

But, also, because he was not a fucking coward.

Or, at least he didn’t want to be. Not about his feelings for Deku. Not anymore. 

He was surely drunk, and kinda high, and battered as all hell both physically and emotionally. And he was still nervous about the whole relationship thing panning out, and he knew he would be shit at it out of the gate—but Deku’s optimism made him brave. Braver than he’d been in a long time. 

“I do...want to be with you.” 

Katsuki had whispered it so quietly, if it weren’t for them being mere inches apart Deku probably wouldn’t have even heard it. Because Katsuki barely heard it over the frantic pounding of his own heart.  

Deku sucked in a breath and quickly moved his hands up to cup Katsuki’s face, brushed his thumbs across rapidly heating cheeks where the last bits of stickiness from drying tears still tracked. 

“Let me kiss you,” Deku whispered back breathlessly, fiercely. 

Alright, fine. The second time in his life Katsuki gave into Deku can be blamed on the nerd making him feel weak in the knees. 

“Yeah...ok,” Katsuki answered in a daze, and then lips were on his. 

It started off kind of clumsy, finding lips in the dark is a bit difficult Katsuki supposed, but they worked their way up to a proper kiss soon enough. It was gentle and so sweet. Just them taking one another in with soft caresses of lips, parting briefly only to come back together again just as quickly. Then it was stronger, firmer with each new connection made, a bit more desperate. Like their whole lives had been leading up to this moment (which Katsuki supposed they kind of had) and now that it had finally come to be they weren’t taking any of it for granted.   

And it should’ve been weird, right? Kissing themselves. But it was dark and neither of them ever had and never would know the feeling of moving against their own lips, so it was ignored easily.  

Easily because Katsuki knew it was really Deku he was kissing, after all. It didn’t matter if it was the correct body or not because Deku would always be Deku, and Katsuki could feel him in every part of the kiss.

In the slight tremble of his breathing (constantly nervous, as always), in the tenderness of the hold on Katsuki’s face (ever the goddam gentleman), in the teeth Katsuki kept feeling because the nerd could only control not smiling for a few second at a time (still as dopey as ever). 

It was all brand new, but still somehow achingly familiar.  

Everything outside the stupid, cramped pantry was inconsequential. Anything outside of the little bubble of bliss they’d created didn’t exist.  

Katsuki was floating and he couldn’t help but revel in the fact that this was exceptionally better than the kiss he and Ochacko had shared. Deku’s body wasn’t even close to craving hers like it now was Katsuki’s. Hadn’t even begun to feel like it would cry if they couldn’t get closer, or like it was willing to die from lack of air if it only meant they never broke apart. 

Still beating her on all fronts. Heh.  

Katsuki sighed into it kiss, brought his hands around to fist the front of Deku’s shirt in an attempt to drag him in closer even though there wasn’t possibly any room left between them to remove. Deku did his best to comply with Katsuki’s greediness anyway and hummed his approval so low in his chest Deku’s body’s insides were instantly burning with desire. The spike of pure arousal was so sharp and sudden Katsuki had to pull away to gasp.

Their mouths disconnected and the outside world slammed back into Katsuki at an alarming rate. Their bubble was immediately broken. 

And if Katsuki had thought his night was shit before, it was nothing to how the next five minutes went. Everything all kind of happened at once. 

Deku had pulled back, too, and frantically began asking if he was alright. The door swung open and Deku startled so badly he knocked Katsuki right into the shadow cloaked figure in the doorway who did absolutely nothing to stop Katsuki from crashing to the floor.  

All the warmth and serenity Katsuki had been feeling just moments ago was instantly gone. He now heard every terrifying sound associated with dozens of teens trying to flee the scene of a crime. People yelling go, go, go and scrambling out of any exit they could find. Katsuki felt the unforgiving hardwood at his back, felt the nauseating headache return with a swiftness.  

Then a flashlight swooped across the room and blinded Katsuki entirely. But Katsuki didn’t need to see to know who owned the gratingly familiar voice that growled from above him.

“Get up, now.” 

Aizawa dragged them both through the now still halls to the common room by his capture weapon (which Katsuki found wholly unnecessary seeing as he couldn’t run away right now if his life depended on it) and they waited. For what he wasn’t sure, but he could feel the excessive amount of nervous energy in the room regardless.  

Eventually the power came back on all at once and everyone groaned as they flinched away from the sharp florescent lighting. Aizawa grunted some kind of confirmation to whoever was on the other end of his phone. When the spots cleared from his vision Katsuki could see the rest of their class had already been rounded up and were looking every bit as fucked up as Katsuki felt.

Mineta, who Katsuki hadn’t seen all night, looked like he’s gotten the shit kicked out of him, which knowing him, was actually what happened and likely well deserved. Jirou, who’d taken more hits up on the roof than anyone else, looked like she was off lost on another planet. Todoroki was sprawled across Sero’s lap with a smattering a dark marks across his pale throat—good for him. And Ochacko...oh, Ochacko looked positively despondent. Completely wrecked with her face covered in tear tracks and puffy from all the crying. A bright spot for Katsuki in the overall depressing sea of his classmates.  

It seemed all of the other first year classes had managed to escape. Granted they had somewhere to escape to. 1A was, unfortunately, automatically busted by default, seeing as their dorm hosted the shit show.  

“No fair,” Ashido’s slurred whine cut through the quiet room. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorroooww.” She was leaning heavily into Kirishima, who just looked happy to be there in her presence. Both of them were completely oblivious to the soul crushing black aura radiating out from their home room teacher in thick, malevolent waves.  

“You’re right,” Aizawa answered, voice dangerously even. “I’m allowed one night off and can’t get more than a few hours into it before I’m getting alerts about one of my student’s mother continuously threatening two of my students’ lives while attempting to climb the front gate to—” he looked down at his phone. “Mic read back the alert.”  

Mic’s voice came through loud and clear, the snicker in it not at all well-hidden. “To ‘make them wish that group of raggedy ass villains had killed them when they had the chance’,” he supplied dutifully. “Did you see all the footage? It took four guards to take her down—I mean is she really only a civilian? It was so awesome. One got a haymaker to his freaking nos—” Aizawa ended the call with a barely restrained eye roll. 

Both Katsuki and Deku stiffened at this. She’d followed them. Was she here now? No way could they manage her again in the state they were in. 

“Obviously,” Aizawa picked up where Mic had been cut off. “She is now in custody and will be clinically evaluated before she’s allowed back around children.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Katsuki and Deku exhaled in tandem. 

They both looked at each other in surprise, which then turned into dopey grins as they regarded each other thoroughly for the first time since they’d been snatched out of their little cocoon of happiness.  

Heh, we really did it. We actually talked. And kissed. That happened. And it was good. Really good. Like really, real—  

“Knock that off, now,”  Aizawa demanded. “Its nauseating.” 

Katsuki gave Deku a wink anyway and the slightest blush crept up Deku’s neck when he did. Somewhere in the background Katsuki heard Ocahcko give a weak sob, which truly added years to Katsuki’s life. 

Aizawa aggressively moved them further apart and continued on his rant. “So, I get here to deal with that fiasco, and then decide to come check-in and make sure said students are fine. Only to find a rager going on—” 

“This was most definitely not, a rager,” Shinsou laughed sarcastically under his breath, not even bothering to look up as he scrolled on his phone. 

Everyone turned to look at him. Aizawa regarded him like his was some alien lifeform. “You aren’t even mine. What the hell are you still doing here?” 

Shinsou shrugged casually like Aizawa wasn’t ready to eviscerate every soul in this room and still sleep like a baby afterwards. “I’m bored and this is entertaini—” 

“Get. Out.” Aizawa hissed. His Quirk was activated now and his eyes were glowing a truly horrifying shade of red, but Shinsou, indifferent as ever, just hopped up and saluted him lazily before sauntering out of the room. 

Aizawa seriously looked like he was about to have a conniption. It took a very long couple of minutes for him to get himself back under some semblance of control. 

Eventually he was able to grit out what he had been trying to say for the past several failed attempts. “I get here. And not only is every one of my student’s drunk, stoned, or unconscious. Dozens of other students are also here and the dorm we just built is trashed,” he spat out. 

The whole class started to squirm with each new octave his voice rose. Aizawa wasn’t known to go above a certain level and he’d already passed that level before Shinsou had even interrupted. Now he was practically shouting.  

Denki, still short circuited and sprawled out on the floor, groaned loudly at the change in volume. “Relax, dad. I’ll clean it up later,” he grumbled, then flipped over and started snoring. 

Aizawa barked a crazed laugh. “Yeah. Ok. I hope you all had a good time tonight.” 

The entire room seemed to blanch. Because that did not sound promising. 

Ms. Midnight walked in then with a wicked smile spread across her lips and everyone looked apprehensively between her and Aizawa. He checked his watch and then announced in his polished instructor voice: “Disappointments of class 1A, it is 2:38 in the morning. Sunday, today, was supposed to be your day off. Now—it is the beginning of your Hell Week.”  

Midnight tore off a bit of her long sleeve night shirt and purple mist started to leak into the room. Everyone was anxious all at once and started stammering over one another to try and beg forgiveness. Aizawa continued to yell out instructions over them, unphased and beyond showing mercy. 

“I hope you enjoyed the drinks you had tonight, because I can guarantee you, they don’t taste nearly as good when they’re coming back up. Midnight’s gas wears off in two hours. I’ll be back when it does. You’ll have five minutes to get ready, then—you’re doing weighted non-Quirked cardio until the sun sets. And that’s only day one.” He smiled and it was obvious he knew just how unnerving it was. “I’m so glad to learn you all like having fun. Because we’ll be having loads of it for the next seven days.” 

He turned his back on his now overly distressed and weeping class to glare at Katsuki and Deku. He drew his capture weapong back into himself, sure to smack them both in the face with the ends of it for good measure, and leveled them with the manic fire in his eyes and twisted smirk to match. “You two can expect to endure a much more...hellacious Hell Week.” 

And with that, he was gone. Taking all the happiness Katsuki had managed to actually scrounge out of this disaster of a day with him.  

Katsuki began to fret at the prospect of a full week of torture as he watched Midnight make her way around the room, but then Deku was firmly squeezing his hand. Gave him a rare, genuine smile on that forever pinched gremlin face he now wore.  

Ok, maybe Aizawa hadn’t taken all his happiness. 

Midnight sauntered over to them finally, the rest of the class in various uncomfortable looking positions from dropping where they stood all over the common room. She ruffled their hair playfully.  

“Nighty night, naughty boys,” she smiled knowingly.  

Before she was even fully out of sight, Katsuki could feel the ground flying up towards him. Being forced unconscious and made to sleep on the sticky hardwood seemed like a pretty on theme way to wrap up his day, but at least it meant it was finally over.  

Katsuki’s hand was still in Deku’s when they both started to fall. His eyes had closed before he’d even hit the ground. 

He heard the thump more than he felt it. 

Floor.