Chapter Text
Katsuki's palms were fucking sweating. It was stupid as hell—they were just meeting to talk about fucking project proposals. He shouldn't be this goddamn nervous. He wouldn't be, except he constantly put his dumbass foot in his own fucking mouth around Deku.
Working one-on-one with him was both a dream and a potential horror-show—a disaster-level nightmare—and the closer it got to the time they were supposed to meet, the more dread flooded his system.
His phone chimed, and he glanced at it where it lay face up on the table.
From: Pink Parasite Pal
>> just remember: dont insult him, don't yell, don't kill any puppies in front of him
>> also: u look hot and ur smart, u got this
Katsuki glanced up, horrified to find Mina and Hanta sitting across the library—sunglasses and baseball caps on, ready to spy on him.
He glared at them, glancing down when his phone chimed again.
From: Wax Stripped Ass Cheek
>> don't fuck it up bro
He could feel the heat coming off his ears, either embarrassed or furious. Maybe both. He flipped them off with both hands, only receiving shit-eating grins in return. Whoever said friends were important for a full life had clearly never dealt with shits like Hanta and Mina.
He felt like puking now—utterly observed. How was he supposed to function like a real person when he was being observed like a zoo animal?
He had enough trouble with keeping his shit together around Deku when there wasn't a peanut gallery.
Fuck.
From: Pink Parasite Pal
>> dw babes
>> we're not gonna bother u
>> we're gonna move when he gets here
>> we mostly wanted to see him for ourselves ;)
>> but hit us up if u need a lifeline❤️
...Maybe friends weren't as fucking awful as they seemed. He glanced up, scowl a little softer, and flipped her off again.
She beamed at him.
He glanced at the clock, stomach twisting. Deku was apparently running late—already fen minutes past their planned time. God, imagine if he was enough of an asshole that Deku would stand him up for a group project session.
Fuck his entire life, sideways with an axe handle.
From: Wax Stripped Ass Cheek
>> breathe dude u look like a statue
Katsuki's head snapped up, ready to bitch him out from ten tables away, when he caught sight of him.
Well, he'd definitely been breathing before. Because he definitely was not breathing now. Jesus fucking Christ on a Saltine Cracker.
The dork smiled, shy but eyes gleaming as he walked up to the table. Katsuki's gaze ran over him, shaken to his fucking core.
Deku lived in gym rat regalia. Sweats, hoodies, t-shirts, sneakers. Sometimes, probably when he was feeling fancy, he'd put on jeans. Usually they were slouchy and shapeless. For some reason, probably just to torture Katsuki's entire heart and soul, the nerd looked fucking perfect today.
It was unfair, because usually, Katsuki could ground himself by finding an imperfection and focusing on it. A chewed-on hoodie string, or a hole in his sweatpants.
Not today.
Today, he looked like God had personally chosen his outfit and styled his curls.
He looked like fucking Aphrodite had yanked open Katsuki's fantasies and put eyeliner on the nerd, making his gigantic, sparkling eyes downright sultry. He was going to die today.
"Sorry I'm late," Deku said, his sweet, smooth voice washing over him like a goddamn siren-song.
He was wearing a soft, baby-blue cardigan. He had sweater paws. His heart was gonna crawl out of his throat and sacrifice itself on this shitty library table.
"You...what are you wearing?" he croaked.
Deku fucking giggled, and the sound grabbed him by the throat and shook him like a maraca. "That's actually why I was late! I didn't want to run here and ruin the look by sweating all over it."
That didn't answer his question. At all.
"You realize this is...studying, right? The fuck are you all dressed up for? I don't think I've seen you in anything other than a t-shirt all goddamn year."
That was so many words, and they were all coherent. He was so goddamn proud of himself.
Deku blushed, dusting his pretty, freckled cheeks with pink.
"I uh...I have a date after this," he said with a small, secretive smile, completely unaware of how Katsuki's heart was shattering in his chest.
Of course he had a date. Deku wouldn't stay single just because Katsuki was too chickenshit to ask him out.
He didn't have any claim on Deku. That didn't make it suck less. But hey, if it made the nerd smile more, maybe it would be worth it to see him cozy up to someone else.
"Oh. If you need to get ready for that or whatever, we can do this shit later."
"Don't be silly," he laughed, sitting down next to him. Like right next to him, so that their arms brushed whenever he moved. "He knows I'm here, and that my schoolwork is important to me."
Katsuki swallowed. "Sounds like a good guy," he muttered, flipping his notebook open.
"He is," Izuku replied. He sounded dreamy and lovestruck, and it made Katsuki a little sick, but he'd probably bend over backwards to keep Deku smiling like that. "He's a little hard to get to know, though. I'm nervous."
"Don't be," Katsuki muttered. "You clean up nice."
Understatement of the fucking century. He looked soft and sweet, and Katsuki wanted to wrap around him and never let go. If this guy had any common sense, he'd feel the same.
Katsuki glanced across the library, making pained eye contact with Mina. She was staring at them with wide eyes, shooting him an awed thumbs-up.
He gave a subtle shake of his head, and she frowned—concern twisting her face. Hanta was glancing between them, confused.
"Thanks, Kacchan," he smiled. "He's...beautiful. And brilliant. I wanted to make sure I matched his energy."
"If you think he's brilliant he must be Stephen Hawking or some shit," Katsuki grumbled. Izuku squeaked next to him, and the blonde risked looking at his face. "What? We both know you're smart. Just because you're a little shit doesn't mean I don't know you're intelligent."
The nerd was blushing brighter, now—all the way up to the tips of his ears.
"I gotta say, it's nice to hear you complimenting me me," Deku teased, a cheeky little smile on his perfect face.
"Don't get used to it," he grumbled. "Now focus so you can get to your dumbass date on time."
His phone chimed and despite his better judgment, he looked at it.
From: Pink Parasite
>> everything ok bb?
He bit his lip, hoping it wasn't a bad decision to respond. He wasn't sure if Mina's brand of comfort would make this better or worse.
To: Pink Parasite
>> he's got a date.
From: Pink Parasite
>>...is it a first date?
To: Pink Parasite
>> Idk
From: Pink Parasite
>> well...he's smiling and blushing a lot
>> so maybe ur not out of the game yet
To: Pink Parasite
>> not a game
>> at least not one i'm playing
>> he's fkin stoked about this
>> not gonna try to fuck it up
He didn't look up at Mina. He knew exactly what look she'd be giving him. It was the same dumbass look she gave Denki when that bitchass body-builder dumped him.
"Everything alright?" Izuku asked, recapturing his attention.
"Sorry," he replied. "My friends are being pests."
"No worries," he said. He was wrong—there was now one brand new worry: whether or not he would spend the rest of his life pining after Deku. "Wanna get started?"
There were fucking stars in his eyes, and Katsuki wanted to gaze into them forever. At least he had taste.
It got easier when they stopped talking about the date and focused on the work. Deku was brilliant. He had so many ideas—Katsuki had come up with three well-reasoned ideas for their project, and the nerd had come up with ten.
He'd wanted to make sure there was something that Katsuki liked, that they could both work with and enjoy. Sure, they ended up choosing Katsuki's idea—an idea that ended up pushing the envelope a little more—but that didn't make Deku's ideas any less amazing.
He was so creative. He had so many thoughts that spanned so far.
Like he'd said before, Katsuki could listen to him talk forever. He was interested in fucking everything, and he could talk about everything for hours. They'd both be wrinkled and gray before Deku ran out of brilliant things to say.
"You're staring," Deku mumbled, blushing.
Katsuki blinked, realizing that he was indeed gazing into Deku's eyes like a lovestruck heroine from the gayest fairy tale ever.
"Sorry," he uttered, flinching back. "I'm...used to bickering with you. S'fuckin weird to just...talk to you."
"Bad weird?"
"Nah. S'nice."
"Oh, good," he giggled again. Fucking angelic. "I don't think I've ever had so much fun doing homework."
"Nerd," he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He watched, longing tugging at him as Deku blushed all pretty.
"Guilty," he grinned. Then, a little more solemn, he said, "I can't talk to anyone else about this stuff. Not like this, at least. I feel like...for everyone else it's just homework, but you...you see it like I do. Like something you want to do with your life."
His breath stuttered in his chest. His gaze was serious but affectionate, and his words had an unexpected weight. Like somehow, this mattered more than it had before.
"Well...yeah."
Nice, Katsuki. Eloquent as fuck. Genius, even.
Fucking idiot.
"I'm almost sad we have to wrap up," he sighed as though Katsuki hadn't spoken. He leaned back in his seat. "I almost want to push dinner back, but restaurants around here close so early."
His stomach sank. That's right. The date.
Katsuki's eyes ran over him again. The sweater paws hadn't let up even an inch, the tips of his fingers peeking over the fabric.
He was wearing a black tee underneath, which was pretty standard. But his jeans were practically painted on and instead of his usual clunky red sneakers, he was wearing fucking Skyline Nike high tops.
A pastel masterpiece. Fuck.
"So where's this guy taking you?" he asked.
"Um..." Deku cleared his throat awkwardly. Katsuki met his eyes, forehead scrunching at the sheepish smile on his face. "There's this new ramen place just off campus? They claim to have the spiciest ramen in the city."
"Damn. Sounds fuckin' awesome," Katsuki said, attempting a smile. He could tell it came off too thin—maybe even pained. "You'll have to tell me how it is."
"Why would I do that?" Deku laughed. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
"Because...I like spicy shit?"
"Kacchan," he chuckled. He sounded nervous. "I meant...why would I tell you what I think of the restaurant when you're coming with me?"
"What?" Katsuki asked, perplexed. Why the hell would he go on Deku's date with him? He wasn't exactly down to be a third wheel to the love of his life and some rando. "I don't think your date would want me tagging along, Deku. I know I'm amazing, but I think that's pushing it."
"Kacchan. You're my date."
Katsuki's heart fell into his stomach. His stomach, in turn, dropped to his knees. Head: empty.
"The f—hm." He cleared his throat, brain slowly churning over the past three hours—trying to find something he'd missed. "What."
Izuku sighed, but it was fond. He was smiling. Katsuki was seriously struggling.
"I listened to your radio show."
Katsuki paled.
"No, you didn't."
Izuku snorted. "I sure did. You have great taste in music, by the way."
Katsuki's mind, previously empty, was now racing. If Deku had heard his show, then he'd...heard. He'd heard Katsuki waxing poetic about his freckles and his perfect smile.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—
"Kacchan?"
"Fuck."
"If you were talking about another adorable curly-haired, freckle-faced dork with a heart of gold, you can feel free to tell me to um...fuck off, I guess?" he chuckled. "I dunno if I'm adorable or have a heart of gold, but the rest of it fits me pretty well, I think. And if it is about me, I've had a crush on you since I met you. And...I'd love to take you to dinner."
Katsuki gaped at him. "Are you fucking serious?" he asked when he found his voice.
Izuku beamed, and Katsuki's heart came back from vacation in his knees to lodge itself in his throat.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm fucking serious."
"Watch your mouth," he rasped. Izuku laughed, bright and way too loud for the library. "Fuck, I love your laugh."
Five words too many.
Izuku blushed, and goddammit, Katsuki loved that, too.
"I'm sure you'll hear it more on our date," Izuku said. Fuck, where did he get this confidence?Probably from hearing Katsuki openly simp on the radio to hundreds of listeners in vivid detail.
"Date," he croaked.
Katsuki swallowed, eyes wide with wonder. Deku dressed up like this for him—all soft and sweet and sexy.
Then, Deku's words came back to him.
"You think...I'm brilliant and beautiful."
Deku's face went brick red. "I have eyes. And a brain. Of course you are. I've told you that you're amazing to your face. Multiple times."
"I thought you were being sarcastic."
"Um...nope. Pretty serious."
"Oh."
Izuku watched him, a little more embarrassed now. He was squinting, as though looking directly at him would make him combust.
Katsuki's gears were fucking jammed. Deku wanted him back? Deku's date was him. Deku wanted to date him. Deku dressed up for him. Deku called him beautiful. Deku liked him.
"The ramen place closes in two hours," Izuku said, interrupting his mental breakdown. "How much longer do you think you'll need to process?"
Katsuki opened and closed his mouth. He probably looked like a really spiky fish. An idiotic spiky fish. Why would an angel want to go out with a stupid, spiky fish?
"I...can probably process on the way," he croaked.
Izuku's smile was fucking blinding and Katsuki felt his heart do a fucking cha-cha in his goddamn chest.
"Great! The menu looked really good, I've been looking forward to it all day! But we should get going, or we won't be able to try desserts before the kitchen closes."
Then, probably just to give Katsuki heart palpitations, the nerd reached over and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. His hand was warm and dry. Katsuki's was not. His palms were sweaty and he kinda wanted to die. But Deku didn't let go.
Instead, he waited for Katsuki to put his notebook into his bag one-handed and led him out of the library.
On the way out, he saw a flash of pink. He made eye-contact with Mina, who was staring at them—mouth hanging open. She pointed. He shrugged.
Then, they were out the door.
"Aaaaand we're back!" Mina cheered into her mic. "Today's set was brought to you by the football team, who want you all to know that they aren't gorillas."
"They didn't pay us though, so we won't lie to you. At least five of them are, in fact, gorillas," Hanta drawled.
"Fuck you and your gorillas," Katsuki barked. "Nobody gives a shit, our football team sucks ass."
Mina grinned, and Katsuki's hackles raised. "You know what sucks a—"
"LOT! A lot," Hanta yelped. "You know what sucks a lot?"
Mina frowned at him. "You're no fun."
"What exactly is fun about getting fired for talking about sucking ass on air?" Hanta demanded.
"You're both dumb as fuck."
Mina's grin returned. "You know what's dumb as fu—"
"Finish that sentence and you'll be swallowing your teeth," he warned. She smirked, but fell silent.
"That's what I fucking thought, Strawberry Shithead," he huffed.
"You'll have to forgive our grouchy grenade," Hanta chuckled. "He hasn't seen his booooooyfriend in three hours and he has separation anxiety."
"Eat shit and line up the next song, dickhead."
"In case you were wondering, I'm considering making Dickhead my legal name," Hanta said into his mic.
"Suits you better than your real name," Katsuki snapped.
"Boys," Mina giggled. "Song first, nomenclature later."
Hanta looked down at the tracklist—getting ready to play it after Katsuki's announcement. Then, he blanched.
"Dude, no. We talked about this," he whined. "We're hard rock and metal, you can't keep—"
Katsuki flipped him off and shut off his mic. "I do whatever the fuck I want," he declared.
"He does," Mina sighed.
"This one is for all the sweet, freckled angels who bring their exhausted boyfriends triple-shot lattes after their O-chem midterms," he said as though Mina hadn't spoken. "Love you, nerd."
Mina leaned into her mic, half exhausted and half amused. "This is 'Beautiful Soul' by Jesse McCartney because our boy is whipped and we can't stop him."
Katsuki shut off their mics and the song started—followed quickly by his phone chiming.
From: freckles 💚
>> I love u too 🥹💕
He smiled, unbearably soft. Being whipped kicked ass.