Chapter 1: izuku
Summary:
EDIT: hey hey! not a summary, but i wanna use this place to note this is NOT the best first chapter. i promise, it gets better.
not to spoil but if you like motorbike rides…. movie-watching and heartfelt conversations on balconys… you might wanna give it a chance 👀
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Goodie bag” by Woozie was the song playing in Izuku’s earphones as he begrudgingly lifted himself from his place on the sofa in the teacher’s lounge to prepare himself for next period.
In his youth, which he was still admittedly in - only being 24 - he had always had a taste for more chilled music. Typically that included vocals that sounded as if the creator were high, Bass guitar strums that accompanied the tune, and the casual drum beats in the back, and in truth; his music taste hadn't changed, He thought as he lazily nodded along to the hazy melody.
Stretching like a cat, he groaned and rubbed his back and turned round to see a large imprint in the soft fabric of the couch.
He grimaced, realising how long he had laid there for, resting his limbs after a particularly tricky training class.Earlier this morning, he had taught a defence and attack class all about how to handle any dangerous quirkless individuals.
After civilians found out about a Quirkless UA teacher, soon followed other quirkless people who had grown a hatred for hero society, pursuing to become quirkless villains.
Fortunately , they did not make a huge impact all considering people with quirks could easily overpower them, but Izuku had remained adamant that they should still teach the new generation the safest and most effective ways to defeat one if they come in contact.
Not that Izuku regretted it, but with having so many of his students flip him over their shoulder, it came with its consequences.
Sluggishly, he waltzed over to the mirror, fixing his tie and running a scarred, calloused hand through his messy green locks. Getting closer to the mirror upon inspection, he sighed and rubbed a finger across his freckles which he had not grown out of.
For one last time, he interlocks his fingers behind his back, pulls until he hears a pop, presses the ‘off’ button on his earbud, slings his satchel over his shoulder and heads out of the massive door looming above him into the corridor.
It had just been lunch, so practically everyone inhabited in the UA building was retreating back to their shells. He saw support course students, covered in grime and wearing goggles upon their many different coloured hairs, hero course students, some of which he recognised from his own experiences with them, and teachers of who he would likely see after school when he would wish them all farewell after surviving another eventful day.
Snicking his nose up into the crowd, attempting to peak his height above everyone else's in his search. He was pretty sure that some of his old classmates were visiting today, merely because they missed the building and a lot of them had a collective break period around now.
From what he knew, he would likely bump into Uravity, Creati, Cellophane, Shoto, Red riot… and Kacchan.
Well, Dynamight.
The question is, where were they?
They maybe would’ve eaten lunch, unless they saw something gross during patrol… which was likely.
Despite Japan being recognised as one of the cleanest countries in the world, it did have some really gross stuff to be seen, especially when doing dirty work, like heckin protecting the city!
So probably not the lunch hall.
Well, maybe Uravity. Uraraka was always a huge foodie, mainly because of her type 1 diabetes which caused her to having tons of sugars for her levels; which spiralled into a sweet tooth. Izuku reminisced on all the times he would buy her late night McDonalds because her Ke-tones were too low.
He giggled at the thought.
“You never really did grow out of that mumbling habit did you, Mido?”
Izuku jumped at the sudden royal voice, darting his head to the side to see who had pulled him out of his trance.
“Creati!” He exclaimed, flushing a maroon shade at her pointing out his unfortunate muttering reflex.
She sighed, smiling softly.
“Momo is fine, Midoriya. How many times do I have to tell you this?” She smirked and eyed him teasingly.
He scrunched his face up in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his noise,
“Yeahhhhh… Sorry ‘bout that. Habit I guess? I mean… I did always tend to call Tsu ‘Asui’, despite her always correcting me. I guess it’s just habit? I don't know where I got it from though, my Ma would always call Kacchan’s mum, Mitsuki, ‘Mits’, so its not like I grew up in a formal environment.”
He pauses, looking up to find Momo staring at him with an eyebrow quirked up and a fond smile placed upon her delicate chin.
“I mumbled again, didn’t I?
Letting out a low chuckle,
“Yeah, you did!” She laughed, her face transforming into a pure and perfect picture of vibrancy. Wiping her eyes, she continued,
“Gosh, How can you even talk that fast? I never understood how Ojiro could understand it.”
Itching his index finger against his temple, he closes his eyes before opening them.
“To be honest, I don't even notice I'm doing it. It just… spirals!”. He exclaimed in a hand gesture, about to spiral on why he spirals, but Momo beats him to it.
“Don't worry about it,” She places a warm hand on his shoulder, “I’ve gotta run, because I apparently have to go, and I quote, ‘Create desks and chairs, willya?’ End quote, requested by Nezu. Sometimes I think I was destined to be a factory worker and not a hero.” She rubs her forearm over her glistening forehead, and gives a bright grin and tilts her head before speaking again.
“I assume you have a class to teach?”
With the conversation being back on him, he realises that he does infact also have a place to reach.
He jerks in his spot,
“Oh my god! Yes! Shi- I mean- Shizzles! I'm late for my lesson. I have also gotta run, Momo! Seeya later! Probably! Maybe? Well, I don't know… Oh my god! I gotta go!” He cringes as he scurries off, leaving Momo to stare dumbfounded at the boy who has not really changed a bit since high school, watching him as he runs off down the hallway, out of sight.
Stretching her neck, she gets ready to create some desks.
It’d be good training, anyway.
____________________________
Panting, Izuku reaches the large class-1A door just as the bell rings.
He swings the door open a little too forcefully, causing a large echo to sound throughout his classroom.
He grimaces and shoots his head downwards, hearing the last of the vibrations reach his eardrums.
Looking up again, he sees all his beloved students sitting at their desk, and looking directly at him with their little pigeon eyes.
“Oops.” He peeps out.
“Real smooth entrance, Izuku.” Speaks one student, and Izuku doesn’t even need to pinpoint the student before replying.
“Its ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr Midoriya’, Kota.” He rolls his eyes, finally looking up at the horned-boy.
“So you can call me Kota, but I can’t call you Izuku which I've grown accustomed to calling you since childhood?”
“You’re my student!”
“Wait…” Speaks another student, and Izuku looks over to see it’s Hirano; one of the more exceptional students here.
Their quirk is something called “Binoculars.” Whenever she closes her eyes, she can see far beyond whatever a natural person can, anywhere in existence. Izuku believes that if trained correctly, she may be able to see inside of machine’s programming, and maybe even learn to use expert x-ray vision.
They’ve been working on it for a while, but to no appeal, but with determination; Which Hirano has a lot of, Izuku truly thinks he can push her quirk further - Which he’s been trying to do with every student.
Truthfully, he’s found it fun — Finding hidden purposes and exercising those powers until it becomes true — it’s like everything his middle school self wanted to do with Pro-heroes in his notebook!
Not to mention the many notebooks he has now of his students quirks… Its excessive, but he’s always loved to have a goal and focus on his dreams, which are now helping not only him, but his students.
Izuku could talk about it forever, but Hirano finishes her question before he can get into the gritty details.
Snapping back into reality, he looks at her as she finally connects the dots,
“We can’t call you Izuku?” She looks as if a deer caught in headlights, shocked and confused.
Izuku scrunches his face up in confusion, and looks at the rest of the class who seems to be nodding in agreement.
Mortified, Izuku cried out,
“Haaaaah? You’ve all been calling me Izuku?!” His back straightened and his mouth is left agape.
“Yes?!” The class replies back instantly in unison.
Oh dear god, Izuku can practically feel his spirit leave him. He practically smushes his back against the wall and presses two hands to both sides of his face, smushing it. He has to test if he’s real.
They’ve been calling him Izuku?!
How did he not realise? He means, it doesn’t particularly bother him he supposes, but how many times have they shouted
“Izuku, wanna play uno with us?!” From across the lunch hall.
It all comes flooding back to him, and he can hear murmurs from across his classroom as he recalls what he missed.
“Izuku, share my boba!”
“Hey Izuku!”
“Woahhhh… Izuku! When did you get so good at martial arts?”
“Izuku… dude… you’re so cool. So so flamboyantly ravishing!”
Realisation slaps him across the face.
Damn.
Well, there’s not exactly a con to it. He just thought it’d be a bit more formal if he was addressed… well, formally.
But then again, isn’t it kind of nice how his students think of him that close?
That means he’s helped them.. right? All those tutoring sessions, training combat and quirk developments have obviously lead to some sort of friendship!
Aha!
A bright side, a silver lining, a Kacchan in a Shigaraki!
A triumphant smile takes place on his face, realising this is infact a good thing, and he finds himself happy at his makeshift epiphany!
With this new good mood, he is about to snap out of his trance when a familiar voice does it for him.
It makes his stomach churn, it makes his heartbeat, it makes his hair spike up.
It makes him feel at home.
“Oi, what have all you shitty extras
done to Izuku?”
That name sounds better from him, he decides.
Notes:
if u made it this far, WELL DONE.
this was a rough first chapter…
stay tuned, it gets better.
Chapter 2: contagious
Notes:
hi!! idk why it says its complete it is NOT! planning for this to be LONG; class1a WILL appear!!!
EDIT: alright fixed it!!!! finally is labelled as incomplete.
btw, i alrdy have the final scene planned out but have NO ideas for what to do inbetween; anys ideas lmk?? please 😞uhm also the spacing ended up rlly weird on this one??? i cant control it but itll be back to normal soon.
SECOND EDIT: got the space back to normal!
Chapter Text
“Kacchan!” The green haired young adult yelps, jumping in his place at the recognisable form leaning across his doorway.
Katsuki’s lean arm is his only form of support from falling, built muscles easily holding up his body weight, and his legs are crossed at his ankles.
He’s in his summer hero costume, all considering it’s the late rays of the July sun, and his mask is pulled up to his brow; revealing his crimson eyes which pierce Izuku with a gaze the teacher has grown used to since adolescence.
His clunky gauntlets are the only thing missing, revealing his exposed skin from his shoulder down to the rim of his gloves.
The surreal glint of the sun from the massive windows hit him in a way that just makes Izuku’s want to test if he’s real by squishing his cheeks, and confirming the sight Infront of him isn’t from sort of bizarre dream.
Gulping, Izuku straightens himself, leaning against the dark hard wood of his desk.
He clears his throat,
“I mean, Dynamight. What brings you to our very,”
He pauses, shooting a glare at his students who are also taking in and ogling the dreamlike appearance of Katsuki Bakugou. “humble class of 1-A?”
“My gauntlets are being repaired. Fucking damn things break too much—“
“No swearing! This is a school, Kacchan.” Izuku pinches his brow.
Katsuki merely ignores him, with a little eyeroll and continues his statement,
“Thought I'd visit this so-called amazing class you’re nurturing.” Katsuki says, finally taking his eyes off of Izuku’s formal suit attire, and scans the class before him.
It kinda feels intimidating… Izuku thinks, but soon after shakes his head to his own delirium,
I mean, Hah!
What does it matter of what he thinks of his class?
Izuku has practically cared for them like his children; Katsuki’s oh-so-righteous opinion does not matter!
Nope!
Does.
not.
matter.
Although for some complicated and completely unrelated reason, Izuku finds his hands shaking, and looks up to see his students feeling similarly. He’s sure he can see beads of sweat on some of them.
Maybe it’s Kacchan’s quirk?
Can he make his surroundings hotter?
Can he do that?
He’s gotta add that into his analysis of him. Maybe a little description of how his eyes look in the sunlight…
Maybe a whole page on his eyes …
He takes himself out of these thoughts, i mean he only thought that because it’s a mystery as to how they’re so elegant! — What if they’re red because of his quirk?!
It’s unfair he’s born with such mesmerising eyes, so mesmerising it has to be a quirk side effect!
“Izuku!” He’s pulled back to reality with an aggressive gloved hand waving in front of his face, and Izuku snaps out of his daze to find a very muscular and very tall Kacchan towering over him.
“Motherfucking hell. You really never fucking grew out of that damn mumbling?”
Katsuki is now a bit too close to him.
Like, leaning over him, and Izuku’s can feel his whole presence warming him.
Does his quirk really warm the air around him?!
Flushing an immediate red (Due to Kacchan’s quirk, of course), Izuku stumbles back on impulse to only find his desk backed up against him.
“No swearing in the classroom.” He scolds defeatedly, about to finally move onto his students.
This whole time, they have unfortunately just watched Izuku have an insane realisation that they’ve been calling him an informal name then be bombarded by
pro-hero Dynamight…
Should be pro-swearer Dynamight!
Glancing at the clock, he internally gapes.
How has it only been eight minutes into lesson time?
“Fuck off. Me? Not swear?”
“Kacchan! What did I just say?”
“You said to not swear!”
“So you do listen?”
“Yeah, even though I can barely hear out of one ear, but in what fucking world do I not fucking swear?!”
“This one!”
“‘Zuku.”
“Kacchan.”
Viridian eyes meet scarlet ones as they both stubbornly look at each other in competition.
If eyes could talk, Kacchan’s would be saying,
‘Try me, nerd.’
and Izuku is trying to convey the message,
‘Oh, I've been trying since childhood. And it’s always worked.’
Defiantly, Izuku sticks his head up even further, annoyed by the unfortunate inches that make Katsuki stretch just slightly taller then him.
With this newfound dominance, Izuku even dares to squint his eyes, pressing the blonde to swear once again.
‘Go on, do it.’
Katsuki squints his eyes.
‘Two can play at that game.’
With one last resort, Izuku has to use it.
With one last blink, Izuku changes his eyes.
From his attempt at a piercing gaze and intimidating glare, his arrogant attempts at submission had not worked, but luckily the freckled face of his also had it’s own perks.
Katsuki might win at glaring, but Izuku knew he could triumph that with his renowned puppy eyes.
He widens his eyes, showing the full emerald of his irises, making his pupils undeniably more glossy, and blinking his soft eyelashes to bat against his cheek.
Taking it one step further, he slightly upturns his eyebrows.
The struggle is taking place on Katsuki’s face, and Izuku has read his face enough times; when he would memorise it as the blonde slept in the common room or when they both found themselves in a healing room and Katsuki was knocked unconscious, to know that his jaw was clenched and he was holding back an eyebrow furrow.
Izuku Midoriya had one more trick up his sleeve, as he usually does.
He hears a student gasp faintly, whispering to their peers.
“Shopkins… He pulled out a lip quiver.” They whispered as if he had just done the most unthinkable tactic to ever grace the earth.
And that was when Katsuki broke.
Flushing a red,
(Maybe from the sweat of his quirk due to his obvious concentration? Izuku thinks, mentally noting that down.)
He blinked away and clicked his tongue in irritation.
“Whatever nerd, you win. No damn swearing.”
Izuku fist pumped the air, and then accusingly pointed a finger
at Katsuki,
“Damn is a swear word.”
Looking absolutely baffled, The angry blonde gestures to the entire class,
“Seriously?!” He blurts,
“How are you teaching these nerds? For god sake, one of them just said Shopkins as a swear word.”
Izuku grins before putting up a thumbs up to the student that said it, it coincidentally being a kid called ‘Tsutsui.’
Ironic, considering it means ‘Correct rule’.
Guess he took following rules strictly, even if that meant substituting a word that shall-not-be-named for ‘Shopkins.’
“I only teach the best.” He winks at Katsuki before asking the thing he’s been itching to ask, “So, you just gonna watch my expertise…or?”
Katsuki seems to contemplate before snarling and shrugging,
“I guess? These fuc-“ Izuku points him a darting regard, and the hero sighs before replacing the word,
“These fudging,”
A snicker is heard from a seat and Katsuki shoots a general glare to the class, not recognising the student who laughed,
(Izuku obviously knows its Nakasone, the brightness of the class),
and finishes his sentence,
“chairs are too darn small.”
Izuku nods in approval at the use of ‘darn’ and not Kacchan’s much preferred forbidden word, and barely thinks before speaking,
“You can have my chair! I’ll mainly be standing at the whiteboard today so…” Izuku trails off, shrugging slightly with a light smile.
Katsuki wordlessly nods firmly before walking tensely to the said chair, like there's a stick up his butt. Almost waddling.
Weird guy, Izuku thinks.
Nothings changed, He adds on mentally, letting out a little scoff in real life.
Rolling his shoulders, it’s only been a fraction of their lesson; and considering it’s merely a lesson on the evolution of quirks and some work sheets being handed out on how the pupil themselves think how they can improve their quirk for the better, he relaxes and sets himself into the zone.
Despite his ongoing dreams to be a hero, he enjoys being a teacher.
He wouldn’t say it was particularly easy having everything he wanted in his grasp, and having to let it go.
Hell, he’d be lying if he didn’t have to call Iida and Ochaco at ungodly times just because it hurt, making them get out of their nestle beds just to trek to his new apartment after he moved out of his Ma’s.
Those first four years were the most painful; Watching everyone soar through their dreams because he gave up his.
Truth be told, UA didn’t know what to do with him, being a reverted quirkless teen in the hero course.
In the end, they had just resorted to him joining in all their written classes, and whenever they were needed for hero action or combat development, he was left sitting from the side-lines.
It definitely improved his analysis skills, and he’s helped his friends more than ever by telling them where they can improve, but more often than not he would end up in his dorm room crying about what could’ve been.
His soul would ache for that thrill of feeling power run through his veins, and he knew his heart would forever chase that feeling; grasping an aural hand out to reach those wishes he was so very close to holding.
Forever an inch away.
Forever the embers in his body, lingering as though teasing his purpose of life.
When his first day started at UA as a teacher, Aizawa and Present Mic being his co-workers, he can still place the exact grounding feeling he felt as he walked through those halls with an everlasting nostalgic tint closing over his heart.
Truthfully, that grasp had never been unleashed, and in this classroom it’s as if it’s hold becomes tighter, looking at the children of who he used to sit in the place of.
He could never stay in this room for too long before it got overwhelming and it felt as if his heart palpitations stopped.
Those one hour lessons were breaching the limit, hence why he was commonly found on the rooftop or occasionally teacher’s lounge (Mainly because it’s the only location he didn’t dare to wander through in his school years.)
The rooftop, however was a different story.
It wasn’t that it wasn’t also filled with memories of his young dreams, but it was that the memories were more pleasant than any other.
Up there, Class 1-A weren’t heroes in training or child soldiers or even pupils at UA, the infamous school that upbrings many heroes.
Up there, with the sky reigning above them like a comforting blanket, they were kids.
Izuku can’t count the amount of times he’s giggled in bed at the shenanigans that he experienced up there - Mainly Kaminari and Kirishima.
Mainly Kaminari.
So, letting out a soft laugh, he begins his lesson with one last roll of his shoulders.
___________________________
For the latter half of class, Izuku leaned against the wall as he waited for his pupils to finish their worksheets.
He was particularly excited to read these ones, curious on how they thought they could develop their quirks and he was fully prepared to take every word into deep
consideration.
Some of his students were incredibly
inventive, which he prided himself on.
Then again, he was also looking forward to the little doodles his students would draw when bored and had finished the work.
It was nearing the end of the period, with only five minutes remaining when students began to hand in their sheets.
It was Kota who finished first, and he eagerly scraped his chair back before navigating his ways through the aisles, narrowly avoiding several lazily tossed bags.
Kota had requested for a seat at the back, being the menace he is, and despite Izuku’s lack of favouritism, he figured he would let the boy have one advantage.
He felt like he practically owed at least one favour to him.
Quirking an eyebrow at the boy’s pace to rush to the front to hand his paper, Izuku figured he must have plans for after school.
Taking a peek at Kacchan, Izuku found spiky-hair already looking at the freckled boy’s face. He had also known Kota since childhood, so it’s not surprising he was clearly interested by his sudden pace; Curiosity spread across his tanned face from working in the sun most days.
Wait, was that freckles Izuku could see in the afternoon sun?
Stopping himself from investigating too deep right now, He gave him a quick shrug, turning back to Kota who was now approaching him with the paper outstretched for the teacher to grab.
Before grabbing it however, Izuku just waved it off before whispering so only he and the hatted boy could hear his words.
“Why so chalant, Aang?
He teased lowly, wagging his eyebrows slowly.
Izuku had found Kota watching Avatar: The last airbender post-war and had burst out laughing immediately; despite Kota sobbing incoherently.
Throughout slurred sentences, Kota blushed embarrassedly with a tear-stained blotchy red face as he sobbed claiming
‘He watched it for comfort’ and whilst it was depressing, Izuku had found it incredibly humorous that after a traumatic war, the horned boy was sobbing alone in his room watching a cartoon.
Izuku distinctly remembers watching the show with Kota on his comfy bed afterwards; Snot stained his shirt from all of Kota’s tears into his chest, when his frail child hands had to grasp the material of Izuku’s shirt to check if he was real, and the kid had laid solemnly on Izuku’s chest, listening to his heartbeat for an hour after — And soon fell asleep to Avatar playing in the background as he laid cuddling with Izuku.
The memory was a silver lining that had come paired along-side the battles that went on eight years ago, and therefore the nickname ‘Aang’ became associated with Kota.
Reasonably, ‘Korra’ would’ve been more suitable - with the boy’s water quirk - but Izuku felt compelled to use the main character’s name.
“Oh shut up, big bro.” A blush crawled up Kota’s neck, turning him the same shade as his hat as Izuku’s eyes softened at Kota’s admittedly sweeter nickname that he called Izuku more often than not.
It was sweet, really, how Kota had found so much trust in Izuku to refer to him as a brother. Izuku did love the kid, dearly, they had a dynamic that Izuku treasured close to his heart.
One good thing about teaching at UA was seeing him everyday, being so in contact with the familiar waterbender was good for both of them.
With his friends too busy with hero work, he loved seeing Kota just as much.
But he also loved teasing Kota about his red shoes just as much.
With his classmates busy, It also made him appreciate Katsuki’s current presence just as much.
Honestly, he was silent for an hour; which Izuku deems improvement.
Although, too busy on focusing on the students progress, he wasn’t sure what Katsuki was doing the whole time.
No phone in sight, but no familiar drool drizzled on his chin, so he really had no idea what the blonde kept himself occupied with.
“But… If you wanna know…” Kota scraped his old shoes across the classroom floor, holding his worksheet tightly by his side,
“I have plans with Eri after school. We’re gonna go to the local summer market.”
Pleasantly surprised of the mention of Izuku’s other favourite child, he exclaims,
“Oh really? How is she? I haven’t seen her in a while!”
He pauses to think about the last mention of her,
“I think… It was March? I’ve been getting updates from Mirio, but I've missed the physical girl.”
It was true, Him and Eri had last met up to go see a firework show, he reminisces of bright smiles and light reflecting pupils.
Smiling softly at the thought, he mentally plans to take her somewhere else, even if it’s just plain shopping; She is a fifteen year old girl.
She, unlike Kota, didn't want to become a hero but is instead focusing on becoming the next recovery girl; especially since her horn has only grown back stronger and longer and recovery girl is only getting older.
Pushing his mind away from the dim thoughts, Izuku tunes back into Kota’s answer.
“Yeah, she’s good. Her horn is getting huge.” He commented, smirking at the memory of it.
Mirroring Kota’s smirk, Izuku slyly murmured,
“That’s good, lover-boy.” He chuckled.
Kota immediately went redder than ever before as he broke their silent communication as he yelped for the whole class to hear,
“Just take the damn sheet!” He thrusted it out, almost hitting Izuku in the progress before narrowly dodging — He had a lot of experience.
Slowly grabbing the thin sheet, Izuku winked before saying,
“No swearing, but don’t let me keep you!—“
“Stop talking like that.”
“Go on your little date-“
“Not a date!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re dismissed.” Izuku rolled his eyes before turning and announcing to the class and raising his talking voice,
“Alright, everyone! Once you’re done, hand it to me and you can go.”
A few cheers erupted from the classroom and he’s sure he saw Nakasone’s hair glow a little at the news.
Turning back to Kota, he shooed him away, but before the student finally trudged off, he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned back to Izuku quietly whispering,
“Also, don’t talk about my dates when your boyfriend there,”
He shoves a finger behind Izuku,
“has been watching you the whole lesson.”
At the word ‘boyfriend’, Kota pointedly darted a look at Katsuki, to who Izuku immediately flashed a glance at to find him already looking with a unreadable gaze.
Katsuki lifted an eyebrow.
Breaking brief eye contact, He turned back at Kota, already feeling heat warm up his cheeks and waved his hands wildly before whisper-shouting,
“Not my boyfriend! And has not been watching me the whole lesson!”
“Uh huh, you tell yourself that, big bro.” Kota deadpans, unconvinced.
Gnawing his bottom lip, Izuku quickly catches onto a word Kota let slip from his mouth,
“Wait…” He turns slowly to the boy, a menacing grin overlaying his chin.
“Date, you say?” He makes an exaggerated winky face, grinning crazily.
“Wait, huh?!” Kota’s eyes widen, rubbing the back of his neck and realising his slip-up, before forcefully returning his hands back to his pockets.
“I mean- what? Well- Uh! Bye, ‘Zuku!” He shoves a hand in Izuku’ face, preventing him from a snarky comeback, and storms away.
_________________________________
After that Devil-hatted demon fled, His students came one after the other, handing him their papers and wishing him a nice weekend, to which he did the same.
He wished Hirayama a happy birthday, and for Okuma to find her dog.
After the last child left, with a pat on the back and wistful smile, Izuku stretched after a long day.
When he turned round to grab his bag, he almost had a heart attack at Katsuki yawning before he spoke roughly,
“Took you damn long enough, Nerd.” He stretched his dead arms over his head, revealing muscle, and muscle, and muscle, and- Izuku, stop ogling!
“What did I say about swearing, Kacchan?”
He settled for, after debating to even correct the sailor-mouthed man on his inappropriate language that was his daily vocabulary at this point.
“There’s no students!” The man barked, Crimson eyes scanning Izuku’s face, as if looking for a sign that Izuku was just teasing, and you could actually swear.
No.
Way.
José.
“Nope, you’ll pollute the classroom. Can’t have my students catching the Kacchan-bug.” Izuku teased, but mentally noted to check online if swearing really was contagious.
After all, Izuku found Katsuki to be contagious in many instances.
The alluring eyes, the built body, the jawline, the dimples; Don't even get Izuku started on the dimples. It was like he was infected, consumed whenever around Katsuki.
How he managed an hour without looking at him, he didn’t know.
The only thing that could keep his thoughts from him was his deeper thoughts, he supposes.
Oh god - the dimples! Speak of the devil!
A little indent popped up on Katsuki’s cheek as he smirked at Izuku,
“Kacchan-bug, really?” He scoffed,
“Are you infected, Mido?”
His smirk expanded before meeting Izuku’s eyes.
“Is your quirk mind-reading too?” Izuku blurted out before slapping a hand over his traitorous mouth.
He had basically just said indirectly
‘Wait, can you read my mind? You just said i was infected by you; Exactly what i was thinking of!’
It was a thought that crossed Izuku’s mind, but it was meant to stay in the mind, and never exit past the barrier of his lips.
He, for what felt like the millionth time, flushed a red.
Katsuki, however, didn’t seem too affected, slightly dazed, maybe. Likely shock.
I mean, How do you respond to that?
And somehow, that felt more like a slap in the face to Izuku.
With a tense body, Katsuki just looked at him like that again before muttering something that Izuku’s ears couldn't quite catch, and before he could form a sentence to ask him about his words, Katsuki spoke again,
“Fuck , I need to go pick up my shitty gauntlets from Mei’s company.” He rushed out of his mouth, quickly grabbing the mask that he had removed from his head the first dozen minutes of the lessons.
“Yeah, no, alright!” Izuku blurted out, tracking the movements of the blonde as he gathered himself and walked past Izuku, leaving him alone in the classroom.
With this new solitude, Izuku found himself grounding the reality, blinking a couple times before snapping back and grabbing his own bag, and hurriedly turning on a random song as he instantly shoved his jammy earbud into his ear.
This time, his playlist landed on ‘Island in the sun’ by Weezer, and the familiar beats eased him as the vibrations reached his eardrums.
Slinging his satchel on, he opened the large door, and almost fudging falling back to the shock of Katsuki Bakugo leant across the back wall of the corridor.
Pressing pause on his music, he calms his mini heart attack, clutching onto the fabric of his button-up.
“Shi- Shizzles! Kacchan… Thought you left. Almost scared me to death, Y'know?”
Katsuki scoffed,
“Don’t get too cocky, Nerd. Wasn’t going to wait; Figured your rash ass probably was going to walk home. Figured for letting me stay in the class, I could give you a lift home.” He rolls his eyes, averting any form of contact with Izuku.
Abashed and Ashamed of Katsuki’s correct assumptions, Izuku couldn’t help but find this slightly coincidental.
“Swearing Kacchan, and a lift?” Izuku questioned, Narrowing his eyes, suspicious.
“Fuckin forget it.” Katsuki pushed himself off the wall, preparing to walk off alone, but no way in heck was Izuku letting him.
He would 100% take a ride today.
Before thinking, Izuku grabbed the blonde’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks,
“No, no, no! I’ll take a lift.”
Katsuki slowly turned around, glancing at their interconnected wrists, to which Izuku immediately removed his grip around the blonde; feeling warmth where his hand had been.
This guy just emulates warmness, he comes to the conclusion.
Katsuki looks up, and meets Izuku’s eyes with a soft look, before blinking and all of a sudden a sharp expression overtakes the soft one Izuku much preferred, and he scoffs before turning back sharply, shoulders tense and reaching his ears.
“Yeah, yeah, Whatever nerd. We’re stopping off at Mei’s though, Got that?”
“Got it!” Izuku smiles happily, almost happier at the thought of sharing more time with his close childhood friend.
Izuku swears he can see his shoulders relax as he walks away, Izuku scurrying after him like their teenage days.
The sunlight hits them perfectly.
Chapter 3: notebook
Notes:
LONGEST CHAPTER SO FAR!!!
mei is such a fun little girl to write, honestly her bubbly attitude is so GOOD.
its why i have a funko pop of her 😋😋what coould be in the noteboookk??? i singsong with a spooky lilt
if yk how the manga ends, you can probably assume what it is.
Chapter Text
Mei had always been a messy worker, even in her teenage years when Izuku would visit the blossom-haired girl to find her equipment scattered all the way across the classroom, her hair scraped up into a messy ponytail and her classic tank-top covered in all sorts of dirt and grime; which, more often than not, Izuku would also find himself covered in by the end of their session.
Not too long after graduating the support course, She was directly offered an internship at a tool-making corporation that she quickly ascended up the ranks in, which only a year after barrelled into her owning her own chain of factories underneath the organisation.
The heroes often had an excuse to visit her, whether it be for mending their destroyed suits, upgrading their previous gear - improving it for the better, occasionally requesting for Mei to use her ‘Zoom’ to find a tweak in wiring or even if it was suggesting a new crazy idea for her to experiment on; commonly provided by Mina or if feeling creative; Sato.
He never seemed to run out of food-related ideas so he could efficiently snack on sugar throughout battle.
Izuku credited the guys resilience, really.
Izuku had his own reasons for visiting the girl, which either varied between giving her a Starbucks coffee or subway foot-long, or their daily meetup consisting of flipping through each others notebooks in an exchange for the other to analyse details written in them or to comment on a way for the information to be expanded and add onto.
Mei would think up any tools or tweaks she could make on Izuku’s students suits or Quirk assessments based on his notes and poorly formed ideas that she could turn into a working piece, and Izuku would, in return, flip through her own messy handwriting to pinpoint any further ideas in improving projects that perfectly aligned to the specific hero’s quirk — Kacchan may not know it, but Izuku had secretly been the one to request two strings protruding from his mask, resembling a bomb fuse, for a more memorable and noticeable statement-piece.
Despite it not being technical, Mei also enjoyed adding on her own little leeway's onto costumes if she believed it looked better, and Izuku was prepared to take full advantage of that fact.
Izuku had been more than giddy when he saw Katsuki wearing it on a simple Tuesday night, when Izuku was marking tests on his couch eating ramen and Katsuki was in the middle of a mission; wearing his mask on TV.
Him and Mei would resume that routine every two weeks; with Mei’s loud music taste reflecting off of the factory’s metal walls, which also meant they were considerably closer than they were in past years, differentiated by separate courses.
Although, Izuku noticed a shift recently due to a singular notebook Mei kept forbidden from Izuku’s disfigured hands from ever laying upon; which just made Izuku ten times the more curious.
Whenever the girl ventured off to the bathroom, he would forcefully have to stop his hands from twitching in eagerness to grasp his hands around it, but he honestly refused to intrude on something she was so adamant about.
So, when he walked into her deserted (due to the lack of workers), studio with Kacchan, he found his eyes immediately straying to the menacing out-of-bounds object still placed in the usual container it was atop and instead focused on the girl with her back turned to them, her loud music blaring on the speakers; limiting her hearing.
Izuku recognised the song as ‘Rebel girl’ by Bikini Kill, and rolled his eyes in amusement at the song which she played painfully often.
She looked totally in the zone, head bopping, hair swinging, was that a bit of foot stomping Izuku spotted?
Her signature black tank top framed her torso, a jacket wrapped around her waist and combat pants that had millions of pockets; of course not a Mei outfit without her goggles sitting atop her hair in a bun.
Her jamming was quickly cut short however, when Katsuki hastily unplugged the speakers and slammed a hand onto the Mei’s desk - which was scattered with different components and wires.
Mei jumped at least 2 inches up to the air, before messily scrambling to grab the closest thing - which happened to be a wrench - before lunging it towards both Izuku and Katsuki.
Oh this is the end of his eventful, victorious but somehow missing something life.
Well, he’s had a good life; he’s got the best friends to ever walk the soil, his mother is alive, healthy and thriving, All might is probably drinking coffee peacefully right now in a café and Izuku will make sure to get someone to put in his will,
“Don't charge Mei for manslaughter.”
In one last attempt, he weakly took a measly step back; But with his luck, Oil just happened to be on the tiles that he stepped on, sending him flying back - letting out a pitiful yelp.
Well at least he’d die due to a head injury and not by Mei’s hands. Mei’s wrench?
Bracing himself for impact, he prepared to hit the floor, even tucking his arms up to his chest, waiting for the cold hard ground to rebound against his head.
…
Okay, where is it?
The doomful impact he was preparing himself to handle?
Peeping one eye open, Izuku finds himself, not sprawled across the ground like a cumbersome fool, but is suspended in mid-air - defying any laws of gravitational matter.
Creaking his eye from left to right, he realises that he had not just magically developed a quirk or Uraraka appeared out of thin air, but instead sees Katsuki’s arms outstretched Infront and behind him.
One hand is holding the wrench, mere inches ahead of banging right into Izuku’s forehead and the blonde’s other arm is wrapped around Izuku’s waist, enveloping his body and holding him up-right.
Izuku’s head is suddenly spinning, and all he can feel is the lean forearm against his back and all he can focus on is the penetrating eyes of the boy beside him.
Before he melts into the boys touch, Izuku quickly scrambles out of his hold.
Katsuki must’ve been using his quirk, because where the tips of his fingertips once pressed a moment ago felt like an ignition, blossoming an uncomfortable sensation deeply burrowed underneath Izuku’s skin, leaving it to linger.
Straightening himself, Izuku brushed off his clothes and shook off his panic from a moment ago, calming the thundering pulse of his beating heart and soothing his burning face. The rapid thumping of his breath slowly converting to more easy, even lung contractions.
''Shoot! Mido, Dyna, You gave me a motherflippin' stroke!''
Breathes out Mei, finally looking at the two boys with an exasperated look, sweat lining her brow and glistening her revealed collarbones.
Looking down at her wrench currently clenched inside of Katsuki's fist, and then moving her eyes up to Katsuki's daring scowl, a muscle twitching inside of his jaw.
''Fucking watch where you're throwing.'' He snarls, blatantly displeased.
Trying to give Mei a reassuring beam, Izuku just kicks Katsuki in the shin, out of the crazed inventor's vision; hoping to finally physically beat that swearing habit out of the spiky-haired male.
''Wait- Did I almost hit you?
Shreds, Sorry Mido, I was too focused on my project... It's a big, like HUGE, one and the music was so loud, Y'know the way I like it, and out of pure instinct I just lobbed the closest thing to me which so coincidentally happened to be a heckin' wrench--''
Mei rambles, speaking so fast she's barely understandable to the human ear, but despite the profuse apologies, Izuku waves it off.
''Hats, Don't worry. Didn't hit me--''
''But-''
''Nerd-''
Shoving two hands into both of their faces simultaneously, He speaks before either can
express their concerns or scolds,
''Didn't hit me. Doesn't matter. Thank you for catching me, Kacchan,'' He rubs the back of his neck,
''Was kinda planning my funeral then and there.'' He laughs sheepishly.
''I? Tch, You're welc-'' Izuku faintly hears Katsuki begin with a confused tone attached to his sultry voice, but he's quickly cut off by Mei jumping over her workshop counter hastily, and pinching both sides of Izuku's cheeks.
Making a confused groan at the sudden contact, he looks to see her pupils dilated and her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of his face.
Using her ‘zoom’ quirk to check for any injuries, She sighs with relief before being swiftly pulled away from Izuku by Katsuki's gloved hands, sending her daggers as he roughly tugs on the collar of her shirt.
Izuku watches the two hold brutal eye contact for a mere couple moments before Mei playfully, but with devilish intents all considering she was too smart to be unaware of the trouble she was about unleash, sticks her tongue out, blowing a raspberry and pressing the exact button that is labelled in bright, gleaming red with “HIT THIS IF YOU WISH TO ANGER KATSUKI BAKUGO!”
plastered over it, maybe even underlined for double measures.
Despite the cautionary tales written literally all over it, it was as if the pinkie had chosen to purposefully push that huge button, Katsuki’s hands immediately flaming with sparks dancing from finger to finger, pirouetting their way through the large columns and trickling down to the delicate skin of his fingertips.
“You damn nerd!” He barks out, raising his hands but not before Mei sneakily slips out of Katsuki’s hit zone and retreats smoothly back over her desk.
Holding his hands out, ready to strike, The blonde bounces from side to side, bouncing and hopping from side to side with malicious intent, Harmless rage practically radiating the whole room with a sense of danger.
Playing alongside the game of Cat and Mouse, Mei also begins to evade Katsuki’s looming shadow, bouncing to the side where he was not, and then pouncing to her original spot when he attempted to line up their bodies.
With both of them skirting back and forth, Izuku found his eyes being drawn to that darn notebook again, looking even more appetising then Kacchan’s biceps after training.
Izuku blinks.
That sentence must’ve registered incorrectly in his head; He’s sure his internal monologue meant to say,
''Looking even more appetising than the freckles that dotted Kacchan's face as though his features were a work of impressionism paintings in the olden days, or as if the universe had formed his fair skin to portray the constellations Izuku would lay on the UA rooftop carefully pointing out to his friends, taking form in his childhood best friend's gorgeous nose-bridge.''
Nodding, pleased with his updated and reprogrammed brain-
Wait no- Izuku pushed away the drabbling consumption of Katsuki's face in his mind .
(He's 90% sure the blonde must've performed some sort of ritual to permanently engrain himself into Izuku's brain wrinkles)
Tapping his head a few times, Hopefully turning a rusty cog inside of there, he tries once more.
''More appetising than an limited edition all-might figurine and extremely rare All-might kitchen set that he could hypothetically mentally gift to Kacchan when his birthday *Cough April 20th Cough* rolled around next year!''
Yeah, Izuku nods pleased with his triumph, that’s the correct simile.
Where did the other ones come from? How did his subconscious even conjure up such statements?
Glancing back at the mans biceps, he almost found himself pridefully agreeing with his mind for admiring such a treasure, but is quickly reminded of his main task upon realising that the inexplicable notebook was only a couple inches away.
A grin that could only compare to the devil themselves appeared on Izuku’s face as his hand reached slowly for the notebook; he was never one to break rules, but after being in a war, the least scary thing he could imagine was an angry Mei scolding Izuku for touching a piece of assorted paper.
Izuku has literally had his arms ripped off, a shiver running down his spin as he lifts a hand up to brush the left side of his neck where a ringlet of a scar that circles around the top of his shoulder, that dipped under his armpit lays; He has another identical one mirroring it on the right.
It couldn't be *that* bad; all considering he had to attend a rehab with Katsuki for the movement of both of his arms whilst Kacchan had to physically train his hand towards recovery - Izuku could leave after a month or so, but Katsuki still has to schedule regular visits.
Dragging his mind away from Post-war, of which he typically tended to not think of anymore, he sets his vision on the notebook opening that he's been prolonging for the past minute - wasting valuable time.
Mei’s been so secretive about it… and that girl is typically the opposite of mysterious or hidden; What could it be?
Some sort of incredible technological advancement that would continue the evolution of mankind for the better?
Maybe secret resolutions on how to build gear that transform to fit the user’s quirk when it’s worn?
What if it’s her *diary? *
That thought sent a splash of hesitation down Izuku’s spine, which paused him in contemplation for long enough that he saw two drastically different hands - One larger but delicate, and One smaller but more calloused - slam down onto the notebook loudly.
With a jolt, he peers up to see two stern faces looking at him with disapproval.
“Aha…” He laughs sheepishly, tapping his foot and puckering his lips up, whistling a lone tune before leaning non-suspiciously against the wall.
“What brings you round these parts?” He says, in his best all-might impression, even attempting to imitate the voice; of which he clearly nailed!
The baffled looks on their faces just tell him that they’re now seriously debating whether or not he’s really Izuku or all might in disguise.
Quick thinking, way to go!
“What the fuck was that meant to be?”
“Ditto.”
Taken aback by their collective response, Izuku merely gapes at their rudeness before shamefully admitting the truth,
“My… all might voice?” He answers wearily, Izuku wasn't stupid, he knew it wouldn't exactly *fool* them, but at least he managed to stun them?
The trio just blinked at each other mildly for what felt like an eternity, until Mei’s shell cracked open, spilling out laughing and sputters, mixed in with “What the fu-“‘s.
Pointing a shaking finger at Izuku while holding her belly, doubling over, she manages to release the intended words,
“Dude, Mido, Zuku, Deku, Riya,,That was singlehandedly the funniest thing I think I've ever witnessed.''
She takes a minute to breath in deeply, burying the heels of her palm into her eye-sockets, Letting out a long exhale of shaky breath before bursting out her vibrant sounds again.
Trying to act serious, Izuku exclaims
''What? My all-might impression?''
His offended façade behinds to slip as the corner of his lip quirks up,
He dramatically expresses, ''You wound me, Mei. I used-''
He chuckles, knowing he won't be able to keep in his giggles for longer,
''I used to practise that for hours when I was younger.''
He feigns a hand over his forehead, pretending to wipe upset tears from his under-eyes.
He finally finishes, letting his mask fall off as he begins snickering at the memory of younger him watching tutorials on how to perfectly replicate his idols voice, literally having his own Ma entering his room telling him to keep it down, her sleeping mask perfectly resting upon her green roots and irritancy visible on her tired face -
He would then hide under his covers and illuminate his surroundings with a many more all-might videos, silently whispering the words for only him to hear.
He felt like harry potter reading his textbooks in the muggle world, using *Lumos* for his sight.
Whole heartedly laughing, feeling his body shake, he begins to steady his breathing and swarming head that pounds deeply into cranium whenever he laughs too hard.
Looking up, he finds Mei having to hold herself up on the desk - Still experiencing the euphoria of happiness, and he shoots an amused look at Katsuki, who's already studying Izuku's face.
A ghostly smile lays on his perfect, glistening lips, which Izuku is unsure if he's even aware of the intensity that little smirk puts upon his heart, and in return Izuku finds his grin widening as the two lock eye contact,
Mei's presence yet a firefly in the sunset red of Katsuki's eyes that Izuku could stare up at for hours, imaging he could feel the lumps and bumps; sitting on the roof of an abandoned old car.
Izuku feels his smile slowly fade as the time progresses, Concentration only growing on analysing the blonde’s fact infront of him,
the lean slant of his neck,
the perfect straightness and then slight upturn of his nose,
the tanned skin from constant workout and strain in July's hot sun; which is undoubtedly where his hidden freckles have emerged from,
down to the little wrinkle between his furrowed brows,
all the way up to where his blonde hair spikes up
and his ear meets the edge of his sharp jawline.
Izuku is certainly putting a chapter about it in Katsuki's section of analysis (which seems to growing by the more time Izuku is surrounded by the guy) because that's totally casual and friendly to merely recognise his friend's features.
You never know when someone'll ask you to describe him in *thorough* detail.
Mei absently says something in the background, and Izuku only makes out the words,
''Weird.... Flirting...'' Before Katsuki angrily darts his whole body to face her, teeth snarling; which just makes Izuku wish he heard the whole sentence and hadn't been so zoned out.
''What the fuck did you say?!'' He barks out, in the typical Katsuki harshness everyone was used to, drastically contrasting the soft look Izuku had been admiring only a few seconds prior.
''Whatever, big guy.'' She rolls her eyes before adding on,
''Ya heard me.'' Finishing with a click of the tongue, challenging him as she squints her eyes at Katsuki before smoothly turning on her heels and retreating back behind her desk, continuing,
''And ya know it's true, so don't argue with me.''
She bends down, picking something from one of her many drawers and lazily flinging both of Katsuki's huge gauntlets in their direction, one landing in Izuku's own hands and one landing in the other boy's hands, which were faintly flickering with explosions as he 'Tsks' at Mei's words and speaks,
''Asshat. Don't throw my fucking gauntlets, Extra.''
The blonde tucks his gauntlet under his arm, and stretches an arm out for Izuku to plop the other one in, to which he does.
''Don't break them next time, douchebag.'' Mei smarmily retorts before cracking her neck,
''Your bag and casual clothes are in the changing room,''
She reaches into one of her many combat pockets, pulling out a large ringlet of keys to which Katsuki snatches before storming away, still holding both gauntlets underneath his armpits.
''Oh? Do his after-work clothes always reside here?'' Izuku asks once Katsuki is out of earshot, leaving the analytic duo to converse by themselves.
''Nah, I would go *Insane,'' She snorts, ''More than I already am, which just means I wouldn't be functional, if that punk had to visit my studio every day.”
She pauses,
“He requested a check up on his hero costume a few days ago; well more like Red Riot *made* him get it checked up, so I've had it here for a couple days, and then he picked it up this morning for patrol, changed into his costume here, and left his after clothes here.
And then, we are brought to right now.
I didn’t know you would be here, which has just made it 10x more manageable, honestly.”
She finishes, recapping the short story to the green-haired boy.
''Can you even *go* more insane, Hats?'' Izuku teased, but the girl seems genuinely thoughtful about the idea, as if it's something she's tried to calculate before.
''Exactly!'' She expresses eagerly, spreading her hands wide with a gesture.
''God, he's a little brat.'' Mei complains, scrunching her face up in distaste, but adds on with a glint in her eyes,
''Though... I see the appeal in teasing him. But I think only you can do that Midoriya - maybe Kaminari and Kirishima - the guy would probably murder anyone else.'' She sighs before eyeing Izuku weirdly, waggling her eyebrows.
''He's not that bad! I don't *think* he would resort to murder?''
Izuku wonders, visions of a little Chibi Katsuki smiling villainously, hands on his heroic hips standing beside an X-faced Mei. He cringes at the picture.
''I'm getting the sense *you're* not even sure, Mido.'' She rolls her eyes before playfully nudging him, to which Izuku sticks his tongue out, grinning.
Something pops up in his mind, turning his smile into a face of pure debate, remembering how Katsuki's delicate hands also accompanied Mei's strained one atop the notebook.
Mei's finger pokes him in the forehead, knocking him to reality and blinking his eyes back into focus on the grimy girl infront of him.
Before he can stop himself, he blurts out,
“Does Katsuki also know whats in that notebook?”
Pulling her face, she shrugs and pouts out her bottom lip,
“What notebook?” She shrugs obliviously,
to which Izuku sets his eyebrows down in a blank stare.
“You know which one Mei, maybe the one you literally slammed down on earlier to prevent me from seeing?” Izuku spells out for her, he taps his chin in fake confusion.
“Dont know watcha talking ‘bout ‘Zuku, sure *you’re* not the coocoo one?”She merely twirls a piece of hair around her index finger, before opening her mouth again to try and change the subject.
“No, Mei, You’re not gonna talk to me about the specific mechanics i’m looking for Hirano’s goggles for the millionth time i’ve asked about the book.”
He stops her before she can get a word out with a pointed look,
“Does Kacchan know what’s in there too?”
She gulps nervously before putting on a nervous smirk,
“No comment.
…
Maybe?
Pssht- How would i know?
If he knows, i mean, which i don’t know if he does, you better not question him ‘bout it.” She cheekily glares at Izuku, brushing away any doubt that Katsuki didn’t know what was in the notebook Izuku had.
“Of course not, Mei!” Izuku responds in a manner that would be polite, if not for the matching villainous expression upon him.
Before Mei can respond with her own sarcastic retort, Thunderous footsteps interrupt them, causing them to jump apart, both whistling nonconspicuous tunes of their own.
Merely raising an eye at their oddity, Katsuki shoots Mei a mumble of gratitude before tugging Izuku away by the wrist, leaving Izuku mindlessly trailing behind him.
Glancing a final look back at Mei, Izuku waves her a measly farewell until next time, to which she fake grasps out for him; feigning yearning.
Letting out a chuckle, Izuku finds himself outside of the stuffy building a moment after and takes in deep breathes of the revealing air entering his lungs through his oesophagus, reaching his arms to the sky and interlocking them behind his head, stretching his abdomen.
Letting out a whine of satisfaction, he turns his head from side to side, loosening his neck before turning to look at the explosive boy beside him.
They had walked here in comfortable silence, which consisted of Izuku mumbling nonsense thoughts about his student’s quirks and the ways he could further their education and Katsuki, in return, ignoring the shorter boy’s quick muttering with a scowl plastered on his face;
at least that’s what the greened haired boy *imagined* his face to look like
(He too was drawn into his own thoughts), So Izuku was unsure what the total definition of “lift” was, whether it be a bummy car, an expensive ride or a two-person bicycle.
About to ask the man his worries and concerns, his jaw effectively and efficiently dropped seeing the boy in his normal outfit.
Quickly pulling his jaw back to his mouth, Izuku took only a few moments to oggle at the clothes the boy wore, and rightfully so considering how badly it managed to make his heart race.
It was plain, merely containing a black hoodie, some black baggy jeans and orange converse, but *damn* did it look good?
It was all baggy, but it suited Katsuki so well it almost made Izuku faint at the image projected infront of his eyes.
Looking up and down, scanning the outfit numerous times, Izuku only felt his face progressively getting hotter by the minute, so he forced his longing eyes off of the specimen standing infront of him and darted to them gray cement he stood on.
“You look like a damn fish.”
“Kacchan!” Izuku blushed even harder before sighing irritably,
“What have i said about swearing?” He twists his face harshly, into a type of look he would use if a student broke the rules in an atrocious attempt to intimidate the man’s swearing out of him.
It seemed to have not worked however, as the blonde only sways away, to which Izuku presumes to be the direction of his vehicle.
Rubbing his burning nape, He swallows down a hard lump that had formed in his throat, proceeding to trail after the taller boy.
Looking up at Katsuki, he glares daggers into the slithers of his revealed neck, taunting and making faces behind the unaware boy.
“Stop making those faces, Nerd.” Katsuki states, still looking ahead of him with those scarlett eyes but somehow spotting Izuku’s mocking.
Eyes widening, Izuku scans his neck precisely, checking if there were eyes there that he hadn’t noticed before - completely baffled as to how Kacchan had been conscious of Izuku’s penetrating stare.
Finding shamefully nothing, he glides his eyes up to the blonde’s perfectly crafted head, before increasing his pace to match up with Katsuki’s, now looking at his even more perfect side profile.
“Tell me truthfully, Will you ever quit swearing?”
“You say that like it damages my body; comparing it to smoking or some other half-assed shit.”
“Just tell me! Will you?”
“Why would i?” The skeptic sun-kissed boy asks, finally pausing in his long strides to lock eyes with the shorter boy, even bending down slightly as if to scare him away.
“Well, because.” Izuku stands his firm ground, planting his own feet on the concrete floor, the holy ground, beneath the two of them.
“Because you asked?” Katsuki scoffs before rolling his eyes, letting a little smirk pop on his face - a little dimple taking form at the side of his mouth.
“When you put it like that, sure, yeah, because i asked, Kacchan.”
Izuku merely shrugs it off, agreeing with the boy; taking him aback visibly - Red eyes widening only by a millimetre, but enough for Izuku to know it’s not his typical eye size.
“So, would you?”
Katsuki scans Izuku’s face, taking a long time to analyse it all before popping his tongue against his internal cheek, and pulling away with a large smack as he opens his plump lips,
“Maybe.”
He smirks wider, letting out both of his dimples for Izuku to see, before robbing him of the sight as he turns away, continuing his trek to the mystery transportation they’re still walking to.
Leaving the freckled man alone, staring dumbfounded at the retreating body he just felt butterflies for.
Shaking his head out of the dazed world he fell into, he finds himself following the boy.
This time, however, he doesn’t quicken up to reach him, but finds himself easily walking behind him a couple feet; reminiscing on what the *fudge* just happened.
Chapter 4: universe
Notes:
shorter(ish?) chapter.
i wanted to make the bike scene more touchy-feely but maybe when im FINALLY doing a beta read.for now, take these ingredients to the big meal!!
i cant wait to reference more of my fav movies, songs and books 😉😉
Chapter Text
After only a couple of minutes following mindlessly after Katsuki's unbothered silhouette, Izuku is snapped and pulled out of his daydreams he was losing himself in.
He wasn't even sure of whatever he was imagining in that little time, but he sighs as he finally accepts he has a particularly horrible habit of falling deeply into his thoughts, spiralling through his headspace, as he walked.
He makes a mental note to train that habit out of him.
However, when the wall of muscles in front of him finally paused in his pace, Izuku peeked over his broad shoulder; figuring they had supposedly reached their destination by now.
Izuku hadn't exactly debated the topic of Katsuki's vehicle preference before, although it had lingered on his mind at some point when he had found himself bored and mentally argued with himself over which cars or transport all his classmates would use.
Izuku could fill all the other gaps and spots:
Kaminari would plaster several pictures of his face on every surface visible of the harsh metal that made his car (Which would be a convertible, preferably one on the longer side).
Mina would easily own a light-pink ford, similar to her bubbly persona.
Momo would probably travel everywhere in a Golf-cart across the Lucious
green fields of her mansion and use a practical tesla when traversing into the public.
Uraraka would take advantage of her newfound wealthdom; probably owning the most niche but prettiest car she could find, and when you searched up the price it would be extremely expensive.
Knowing her, It would definitely be a sunset pink too and the interior would look nice from afar, but the closer you get, the more messy it becomes.
With no doubts, Kirishima was immediately pinned down as an adamant Lamborghini owner since adolescence and it hasn't changed since.
For Kacchan, however Izuku couldn't stick a defining answer.
A Mercedes had popped up as a possibility a couple times, maybe even a skateboard on a quick grocery run?
Maybe in his teen years, but he figured now that Katsuki would deem that immature and foolish.
Although, a B&W with heated seats and the best audio quality to grace your ears would be suitable too.
Even a range-rover maybe? Rolls-Royce?
The freckled, green haired teacher recalled all his previous predictions that he had imagined with heavy inference, certain that at least one of them must be correct with all the late-nights Izuku would spend pondering it.
Because thinking about your best friend's car choice all night was a completely normal and ordinary thing to do, of course.
He reassures himself, thinking back on the time he was called at 5am in the morning by Todoroki who had kept himself awake wondering whether or not Tsuyu would like a Kerokerokeroppi plushie for a birthday gift; alongside a brand-new MacBook.
The Todoroki family was extra, sure, but Asui practically cried upon receiving it, the thoughtfulness of it touching Izuku's heart as he himself felt the tears well up at the sight of his friend so emotional over a gift.
Todoroki had panicked initially, nudging Midoriya and whisper-shouting,
''Why is she crying? You said it was good!''
and through muffled, weak movements, Izuku just nodded slowly as he recollected himself, faintly hearing Todoroki speak in the muffled background of Izuku's ears,
''Why are you crying too?!''
So, Izuku knew that it was normal to think over what a friend's preferences might be, hence why he would occasionally think over Kacchan's method of transport, of course in addition re-evaluating any pre-chosen assumptions that seemed to be proven inaccurate throughout time.
It was safe to say that Izuku was more than shocked, confuzzled, bamboozled, and dissembled with thoughts swarming in his head,
when he saw a matte black motorcycle parked in front of him.
Blinking, checking to see if his vision would alter as he opened and closed his eyes, he stares dumbfounded at the sight in front of him that isn't changing no matter how many times he strains his optic nerves.
''No.'' Izuku manages to stumble out of his dry mouth, before his facial expression caught up with his brain, gaping wide and jumping in spot, looking at the unbothered boy before him.
''Kacchan, no way! Sure, with black whip I used to gravitate in mid-air, but that was apart of my body
…
in a really sickly, messed up way;
nonetheless, it was apart of me!
This is an unreliable machine- if it skids across the street and we-we? Crash for goodness-''
The boy rambles, vigorously shaking his head with each complaint, but is rudely paused by a black helmet matching the bike's matte tone being carelessly tossed at him; which he barely managed to catch, it fumbling and rolling around atop his fingertips a couple times before he managed to grasp a stable hold on the round object.
Quickly cutting off, Izuku looks down at the helmet before looking back at Katsuki who is casually leaning against the bike as if it's a human nature to rest against a black motorcycle, looking so perfect doing it; so natural, and Izuku can predict he's done it a million times before.
Defeat filling in the blank spaces in his gut, Izuku just sighs before scraping a remaining hand through his tumbled strands of hair before shaking his head with disappointment, lowly mumbling,
''I should've pegged you for a motorcycle guy.'' Another sigh,
''It really was right in front of my eyes.''
He facepalms before turning the helmet in his hands, his index and thumb spinning it in orbital motions.
''What are you mumbling about now? And are you getting on or not?'' Katsuki dejectedly speaks aloud, sagging his shoulders.
Shooting daggers at him, Izuku just tenses his shoulders, shooting them up to his ears before exclaiming,
''Motorcycles are dangerous, Y'know? Speaking of which Where's your helmet. sir?''
… Silence follows.
''Kacchan.''
Slumping the top half of his body, Katsuki just looks at Izuku for a second before approaching him, speaking in the mean while.
''I only have one nerd,''
He gets closer, in more close range now.
''And clearly, you're the one needing it.'' He finishes before grabbing the Helmet out of Izuku's hands, to which he lets him easily, as Katsuki slowly places it on the mop of hair above the freckled boy's face.
Shifting it slightly after pressing it down firmly, he flips up the eye visor to see Emerald eyes staring back at his face, that being the only part of his face shown to the coral sunset sky.
Izuku gulps nervously, as Katsuki just looks at him again, in that same way, in the same atmosphere, in the same aura as since they were only young, dumb, scrappy teenagers who had no care in the world.
Now, with tons of stress, work and unresolved and contained issues, he still looks at him the same;
as if God themself picked constellations out of the sky to put around his face like he was a better canvas.
Like God put millions of green pigment alone in his shining eyes.
Like God plucked stars from the night sky because he thought Izuku's hope needed to shown beyond extreme extent; the cosmics of the brightest stardust flowing through his iris.
Like Izuku's own veins were made out the same material.
Like Izuku pupils were planets swarming through a maze of stars.
Like Izuku was the universe.
Izuku hoped he never stopped looking at Katsuki looking at him like that.
In the blink of a wrinkle in time, the fabric of the universe was ripped away as Katsuki quickly shut the eye visor, flipping it back down with his index and scoffing before clearing his throat.
Through limited tinted vision, Izuku only fiddled with his fingers, pulling them up in a fist and feeling all the separate knuckles as he rubbed them individually, before lifting his foot up to take a step to the bike, and so came another.
Timidly approaching the bike, Katsuki slide on wordlessly as Izuku took a deep inhale of oxygen before turning it into carbon dioxide, exhaling slowly as he neared and neared his destination.
The conjoined parts of a metal bike stood dauntingly in front of him, teasing him in a manner that Izuku felt as though he had been off hero-work for too long.
He was a child solider, for god's sake, yet he was afraid of a collision that probably wouldn't even happen when as a teenager, he had literally went through a war at the youthful age of sixteen, images of fire and crying flashing through his mind as he thinks back on the cause of his PTSD he occasionally experiences nightmares of still.
He's grateful though, his dreams used to be significantly worse throughout the early days of his teacher hood, when the trauma would flash through his nose with every inhale he took with a sweet bird humming outside his classroom window; the nostalgia bittersweetness followed soon after.
With a final adjustment of the helmet framing his head, he sits on the very tip of the seat, trying to give Katsuki his personal space which Izuku knew he very much valued, and Izuku respected that; despite the constant urge to touch him in any way possible, whether it be a brush on the hand or the insatiable hunger to hug the boy.
The latter one had a particularly blood-thirsty occurrence in high school.
Katsuki merely looked over his shoulder before rolling his eyes at the distance Izuku considerably placed between them.
''Are you trying to fall off?'' He twisted his body so it faced the viridescent haired boy, giving him a look that was mixed between amusement and confusion and a noticeable tone of sarcasm was placed alongside his teasing voice.
''Well, no?'' Izuku muttered, scrunching his face up as he took in the voice of the sandy haired boy centimetres away from him.
''Don't sit so far, nerd.'' He scolded, huffing, as he grabbed Izuku's leg from it's place still panted on the ground, giving it a tug towards the blonde as the boy forcefully slammed into the hero's back, letting out an 'oof' in the backlash with a thud.
Blinking the vertigo out of his dazed mind, Izuku finds himself now clinging right onto the boy.
His arms had somehow, coincidentally, found themselves around Katsuki's waist in the crash and commotion.
Izuku quickly unwraps them from their founded destination, because as comfy as that was, Izuku can already feel a overwhelming heated sensations overcoming his cheeks as the blood rushed.
Huh... Kacchan's quirk really must have an effect on the air surrounding his aura, all considering with every close-contact situation Izuku's had with him has always ended in a blushful fit.
Honestly, Izuku was bouncing up and down, knowing that by the end of this day alone, Katsuki's quirk analysis would bump up at least another additional three pages.
Coughing and spluttering, Izuku cleared his throat as he shamefully rubbed the backside of his head, about to stutter out an apology for the sudden physical contact his arms had made around Katsuki's waist but the light-haired boy stopped his words from escaping the tip of his tongue, speaking before Izuku could let a singular word release,
''Don't-'' He pauses, still looking at the Lincoln-greened man, a dust of pink twinkling from one of Katsuki's cheeks to the other, making Izuku flush undauntingly more.
He continues, ''apologise, Nerd. You have to put your arms there anyway.''
He looks Izuku up and down, analysing him, rolling his eyes annoyedly, and then proceeding to end the scandalising sequence by turning so his back is facing Izuku once again.
Without a warning or any hindsight, he revs the bike's engine, scaring Izuku enough for him to jump right back down to where he had originally landed, hastily wrapping his arms around Katsuki's slim, yet built, torso.
Chest touching back, hand touching stomach, and legs slightly brushing.
It felt entirely too natural, placing a unusual spin on Izuku's heart which he couldn't pin as to being bad or good, or someplace in between.
The motorcycle's wheels slowly begin to run over the gravelly ground, the matte black vehicle rapidly finding it's way out of the carpark, and soon navigating the many twists, turns and bends that form Japan's roads.
Soon picking up the pace, it's going at the speed of a decent car, and Izuku finds himself clinging on tighter, enamoured by the blinding billboard lights of Japan's main streets that they're zooming past hurriedly, which soon convert into humble shops, street vendors organising their fruit and vegetable where it's been messily placed haphazardly by customers, the buzz still floating through Japan's streets as if its adrenaline running through human veins, the sights too unique to take in, but enough to appreciate the sonder and realisation of everyone's different lives.
Izuku feels right out a piece of media, like he should be in The perks of being a wallflower, a film that accompanied him usually on his saddest days, or as if Midnight city by M83 should be playing in the background as they embrace each other's body heat on a motorcycle seat in the midst of Japan's daily rush.
Soon after exiting the city excitement, the shining lights of shop signs transform into dim orange glow of street lights that inhabit the neighbouring roads near Izuku's home.
They skid to a messy stop just outside of Izuku’s apartment complex.
A hum still running through his whole body, Izuku finds his mouth wide, smiling unintentionally. Immediately lifting off the chunky helmet on his head, he is met with a harsh sweep of wind which initially tears up his eyes; he brushes a forearm over them before shaking his already wild hair to look up at Katsuki. His cheeks are red from the wind, and he can feel the cold enveloping his face.
Katsuki, who's hair is matching Izuku's in disarray if not more messy due to the lack of any hair coverage, is smirking at the bewildered look of amazement on Izuku's face, his eyes shining starkly in the sunset-turning-to-dusk glow of the night.
Katsuki finally takes a look at Izuku's hair, scuffed up by the helmet and pressure of the air flowing through the little gap between him and the eye visor.
His face immediately breaks out into a wider smile, and Izuku is unsure if Katsuki is aware of the boyish grin on his face right now, and laughs softly at the mop of viridian hair.
Izuku is caught smiling at the blonde's face, admiring all that's there, when he remembers what exactly it is he's laughing so fondly at.
Immediately, Izuku finds embarrassment fill him, and he scrunches his face up in cringe as he asks,
''Is my hair bad?'' He braces himself for a response.
''Fudging horrible, nerd.'' Katsuki responds smoothly, and before Izuku can fix it himself, the sandy-haired boy lifts up his hands to fix Izuku's hair.
They find the mop easily, and he runs a hand through his locks, each finger brushing strands so delicately and his fingertips barely scratching Izuku's scalp gently. Each little touch only heats Izuku's head, contrasting deliciously nicely to the cold breeze.
A face of concentration is contorted on Katsuki's face, and Izuku can only sink into his barely-there touches and look at the face of the boy he's known for so long above him.
Whenever Izuku thinks of their astoundingly long... complex to say the least) friendship, it always baffles him how the boy in front of him, the one who is currently fixing his windswept hair after giving him a lift from his job, was the boy who would scream
''Die!''
almost every two seconds, and the same boy who had directed that statement to Izuku on more than one occasion, whether it was a mere passing comment or that one nagging time he had meant it seriously.
Izuku truly wonders if he had killed himself, if he had listened to those words out of the boy's mouth, how Katsuki would've ultimately end up.
Would it have spoiled him more rotten?
Would it have been his tragic story to tell at conferences that fans would only admire him for his depth and growth?
If Izuku knows one thing, even if it hadn't come from the boy's mouth directly, Izuku knew despite the boy's stubborn refusion to admit it.
Katsuki is happier in this universe than another one where Izuku dies.
Perhaps it's just Izuku's newfound confidence feeding him delusional lies that his mind spews when he wants to believe a particularly touchy truth,
but Izuku would like to believe that Katsuki prefers him breathing and warm next to him than cold and with blue lips dead on the floor.
You can't look at someone like they are the galaxy, and wish they never existed in it.
Izuku is pulled harshly out of his thoughts by a hand scuffing his hair up, it's palm running over Izuku's scalp as it sends his hair sticking up at weird angles.
''Kacchan!'' He yelps, rushing his hands up to his head and smoothing down his hair,
''Why'd you fix it just to mess it up?'' He sighs before running a final hand from the beginning of his hairline down to his nape, it flopping lazily over his forehead.
''How else would I get you out of that messy train of thought you were riding?'' Katsuki shrugs, running his own hands through his windswept blonde spikes, considering his is it's own mess of tangles.
Izuku's heart drops, did Katsuki know what he was thinking about?
'Messy train',
did he know the depth and complication of the implications in Izuku's mind not even a second ago?
Izuku was almost certain Katsuki didn't randomly develop a mind-reading quirk, but his heart couldn't stop from racing at the possibility that his emotions shone through his expressive eyes accidentally.
It wasn't like Katsuki wasn't in the top three people he was commonly vulnerable with, the other two being his mum and All Might, but the two had never reflected on their harsh history together before.
Izuku knew how unhealthy Class 1-A was now as a whole.
Uraraka still thinks on Toga, that guilt still overwhelming and wrapping her mind in a mindset that constantly screams that she needs to try harder, that saviour complex being formed in her youth, and still growing within adulthood.
Todoroki's own brother was a villain that had terrorised Japan for years, and no one really thought of how that effected him, mainly focused on Endeavour.
Shoto still hasn't shared it, his true feelings as to how it made him feel, but Izuku knew it would be better to let him come to terms with it and finally tell someone, whether it was Izuku or not.
Thankfully, Iida has come leaps and bounds dealing with his brother's paralysation and retirement, but it still effects him, still clings onto him how quickly a downfall can be.
Kirishima still struggles with improving insecurity, that shame of his quirk dampening with each rescue and reassurement of his hero-work, but Izuku knew better than everyone that once it was there, once that shame and anxiety was rooted within in you, it never left. No matter how much it had no reason to be there, with new obstacles came even more reason for those previous emotions clinging tighter around your neck, the pressure strangling you.
Hell, the whole of Class 1-A had to have separate therapy sessions after the war, alongside class ones.
They were child soldiers, army dreamers, the next-generation heroes,
and kids.
None of them were alright after the war, and some of them had dealt with it well.
Ojiro had easily found comfort in his family and his therapy sessions had healed him pretty well; of course, he still had his trauma, but he healed better than a lot of them.
Tokoyami's recovery took longer, Dark shadow adding on an extra mind and burden to care for.
Koda's was speedy, but heavily damaging when he would come back from therapy with waterlined eyelids and blotchy cheeks.
Hagakure's was unapparent, her bubbly persona still speaking out to them all, until one night she broke down crying, and they all cried with her; letting it out.
Katsuki refuses to admit he cried that night, but Izuku knows he saw some water lining up his tear ducts; same with Todoroki.
So, as adults they had unspoken, heavy trauma.
Not only did Katsuki and Izuku have that long line of issues they had to talk about, but Izuku knew he would brace himself for the point of breaking when it came round to acceptance.
Done with the conversation, and ready to find himself cozy within his flat; with Katsuki or not (preferably the former), Izuku just smiles shakily and he receives a eyebrow scrunch, so without a word, he turns away to head to the stairs leading up to his home.
He hears Katsuki follows him.
He scolds himself for why he walked away wordlessly.
In truth, Izuku knew why he did it.
Izuku knew he, himself, would break soon.
Chapter 5: blush
Notes:
HEYYYY! if youre reading, i appreciate u sm!
sorry for late update, i have WHOOPING COUGH.
once again this is NAWT beta read, we are rawdogging it out here.
anyways, izuku's apartment was rlly hard to explain but nonetheless i hope u enjoy!
sorry for keeping you, go read ur bkdk guys!
Chapter Text
Placing the leather strap of his satchel on a knob of his coat rack, he looks back at Katsuki who is standing uncharacteristically awkward in the teacher's doorway.
It's not like Katsuki hasn't been here before, on the very rare occasions where Izuku is randomly drawn from a ballot box to host the monthly game night Class 1-A tries to hold to keep tradition.
Usually to Katsuki, this apartment is filled with a movie in the background blaring, contagious laughter or fuming smoke from any time Kaminari is left on cooking duties.
Usually to Izuku, those memories all flood back in as well; how could he forget them, after all?
However, differently to the blonde, familiar Lo-fi music while he cleans hums through his mind, the smell of almost burnt ramen accompanies these memories and all the times he's slept - well, passed out - on that very sofa flash through his brain.
Izuku has seen this home being a home, but Katsuki has only seen it as a host, Izuku thinks, figuring this must be the reason for the scarlet-eyed boys timidness at the sight of this empty home Izuku returns to every night.
''Sorry.'' Izuku blurts suddenly, cringing at the silence he had just broken.
Katsuki just keeps his face blank, but slightly soften his concentrated expression and shift his eyes to stare intently at the freckled boy's pupils.
Izuku gulps nervously, feeling naked under his piercing gaze.
With no response, Izuku just continues with a small shrug to further explain himself,
''For walking away like that,'' He pauses to chuckle shyly, ''had irritational thoughts - You know how the anxiety plays.''
He shares a small smile with Katsuki before turning again to hook his suit jacket onto the peg next to his bag.
Word vomit emits out of his mouth before he can stop it,
''Also- is this weird? I know you've never seen this place so... quiet? still? relaxed? Yeah, quiet's the word. With Kirishima doing the Shrek choreography every two seconds and Todoroki yelling for Frozen to be added to the list of movies, it's definitely not quiet when you're round. I've been to your place, sure, I mean just the two of us, but you've never seen this place in it's chilled prime. I mean, I think it's the prime. It's nice- comfy-''
Izuku stops at the raised eyebrows of the blonde who is just tilting his head, a ghost of the smile lining his plump lips.
''And... I'm rambling again?'' Izuku cringes for the second time since reaching his apartment, realising he had just re-enacted the anxious ranting his mother does when she's nervous.
Muttering and rambling… Izuku thinks, making another mental note to kick those traits out of his vocabulary and mind.
But, Katsuki just smirks, letting out a low chuckle before leaning his weight against the doorframe, speaking quietly,
''Yeah. Yeah, you did.'' He speaks softly, quietly, and far too intimate for Izuku to let it words exit the blonde's mouth like that, because how in hell could he just speak like that and create butterflies in Izuku's stomach without even trying?!
And how dare he look at him like that?!
Flushing a burgundy, Izuku just laughs sheepishly before turning around, slapping each side of his face, and rolling his shoulders.
Cheerfully, and probably looking quite peculiar to the other man, Izuku turns his head around his shoulder, glancing at Katsuki and smiling vibrantly,
''Well, are you gonna stand there like a statue, Kacchan?''
A scowl taking place on the blonde's face, Izuku just turns back to face his living room in front of him with a smug smile and fond expression, hearing Katsuki growl in the background,
''Haaah? What did you call me, Nerd?'' Izuku faintly hears Katsuki exclaim angrily in the faint distance of his eardrums and he can hear the crimson-eyed man kick off his shoes lamely at the doorstep.
Already having his shoes off, Izuku just scans his apartment again.
It was pretty open plan, a little corridor where he could only fit a shoe rack opening up the flat, and then widening out to a living room that consisted of an L-Sofa, an armchair and two beanbags, pink and blue.
He had to provide for slippery Cretans like Tsuyu and Tokoyami somehow.
Multiple posters, little framed pictures or hanging plants decorate the white plaster walls, orange light warms the interior.
But maybe most magnificent of all, behind his tv there are shelfs, and shelfs, and shelfs of books, whether it be notebooks filled throughout years, classic literature or silly comedy books Izuku would read for an easy thing to entertain himself with, and how could he forget the many DVDs and Manga's lined up inside the shelf of his TV-Stand?
Of course, in addition his rack of vinyl just next to the balcony double doors.
Off just past his armchair, stood tall said balcony which was still open wide from the morning when he had opened it for his morning peace.
Often, just after he arises from slumber, he stands there and looks at the view, overlooking other apartment buildings.
To some, it may seem bland, but to him; it was heaven.
Watching everyone every morning, whether it be a kid screaming for school, a stressed frazzled woman smoking on her rooftop, a teenager lazily strolling down the road on the phone or an elderly couple sharing a cup of tea they've probably shared many times before, Izuku always enjoyed to just watch. Let time move by.
It brought him peace. Sonder.
Now, compared to hazy summer Japanese mornings, it was open to gusts of cold wind, so Izuku hastily closed it quickly as he approached it.
The warmth of his radiator now really only taking effect in the apartment, he hums contentedly at the newfound warmth.
Looking back at Katsuki, He's managed to get his converse off (Izuku knows from experience they're gnarly little beasts to wrestle off your feet), and he unzips his black hoodie, and Izuku merely tilts his head in consideration all by the means he thought it was just a plain hoodie early - not a zip up - and focuses once more on the blonde who harshly shrugs off the jacket.
After the piece of fabric is off, it reveals a sight Izuku immediately burns up at.
A holy grail.
A saviour in war.
A blinding light in darkness.
A hot man in a compression shirt - Literally.
At the sight of Katsuki in such a tight shirt, only a couple feet behind him, and it's classic nature to cling to all his curves and dips and oh my god, every single dent in those abs...
Snap out of it Mido!
Mortified, he abruptly turns his head to the side, almost giving himself whiplash in the process, and twiddles his thumbs in front of him unintendedly.
Voice cracking, he exclaims whilst blushing,
''I-I'm gonna-'' He clears his clogged-up throat, ''gonna go change out of this stuffy suit.''
Messily gesturing to the apartment in general, he speaks again,
''Make yourself at home - search my fridge, choose your seat, look at my books … just not my notebooks, you know the drill. But, otherwise - I don't care! I'll be back, obviously because it's my home, and yep, yeah, that's me gone. Bye, no, I'll see ya? Okay, be a second! More like a minute... Maybe multiple...Whatever!''
And with that hastily made farewell, Izuku takes it upon himself to exit the landscape of his living room, leaving the magma eyed man's mind even more confused than when he reached the apartment.
Knowing him though, Izuku was sure that temporary freak-out would be scraped off as another escapade of Izuku's collection of embarrassing and or flustered moments, because truthfully that's all it was, and it would ever be.
That still didn't stop the beating of his rapid heart as he walked over into the wooden-floored corridor that branches off into the last two rooms of his home.
On the right was a door to his bathroom, and directly opposite to it was the chipped door of his very own bedroom.
Immediately lunging to the doorknob, he turns it and is graciously accepted into the familiarity of his comfort place.
Admittedly, it wasn't as all-might plastered as his teenage years, but he would be lying if it wasn't true that some posters still laid as decoration on his walls; especially the one that had initially belonged to Sir Nighteye, once a source of Izuku's envy turned to Izuku's memory and homage of the man, a constant reminder of the man who had officially changed his life into a work of heroics.
It didn't have too much furniture, more on the plainer but homely side.
His double bed was pressed against his back wall and stood in the centre of the room; his youthful all-might sheets replaced with bland white sheets - as much as Izuku missed his fanboy hood, he found it weird to have someone who you see as a father figure smothered on your quilt that you sleep in.
A large window covered the majority of the wall opposite of his door and a desk was placed right under it with a computer, pens and many unmarked tests piled atop of it; what Izuku commonly procrastinated as to cleaning.
On both sides of his desk, and where the window ends, stand tall even more bookshelves from the floor to the ceiling, adorned in more of his personal notebooks, and the books he holds particularly close to his heart.
Of course, copies of Perks of being a wallflower, Secret life of bees, Circe, Of mice and men, The picture of Dorian Gray, Songs of achilles, and his silly guilty pleasure,
The hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy.
Truly, despite his shelfs being mainly made up of sad books that are most definitely teared stained, Izuku held that ridiculous comedy Pentalogy lodged a place in his heart when he first read it in Middle School.
Pressing his back to the white chipped paint of his door, Izuku calms his swooning head, taking in deep breaths and laying on a hand atop his radiating chest and feeling it slow down progressively.
Izuku didn't lie, he did have to change, so instead of focusing on the incident that occurred and the still remaining tinge of blush tinting his neck and the sparks flying in his pelvis, so he walks over to his wardrobe that is stuffed between the right wall and his bed's nightstand, and opens to retrieve the first comfy clothes he finds.
Opting for a hoodie and a snug pair of sweatpants, he tosses them on and walks out his room with his suit in his hands.
Quickly making the short side quest to hurl his old clothes in the laundry basket in the bathroom, he stalks back to the main living room of his flat and finds Katsuki not in comfortably sheltered inside the crook of his L-shape or manspreading on one of two bean-bags, but instead sees him through the arch of his kitchen's singular wall.
His kitchen kind of has a wall, it being the only one, but most of it's surface wasn't there due to the hollow window that meant there was easy access to passing dishes or drinks from the kitchen to the living room.
Contradicting himself, Izuku knew 'Wall' wasn't the right word per say, acting as more of a partition of the tiled-ground in contrast to the hardwood floor, all due to the fact that the entrance to the kitchen wasn't a door but rather just an open walk-in.
Or Kaminari's common creative variable of just jumping through the gap; commonly smashing many dishes in the way and efficiently getting a scold from Iida and a neck slap from Jirou.
Strolling over to where Katsuki is scavenging the fridge, Izuku shoves his hands into his hoodie's conjoined pockets, approaching the spiky-haired man, taking a moment to adore the boy in his home.
Quietly and silently, a devilish embryo of an idea formulates in Izuku's mind, and he schemes the ultimate plan.
The wine eyed boy still hasn't heard Izuku's soft footfall, and Izuku takes the indicative to creep up on him sneakily.
Tip-toeing across the short expanse of his tiles, the viridian haired man makes it just behind the boy, sticking out his index fingers and swiftly jabbing the man on either side of his somehow tiny waist compared to his upper body.
Katsuki cursorily swears and makes a noise of pure surprise, flashing around to face Izuku who is now laughing with vibrancy and amusement.
Katsuki, still in that same shell shock of being snuck up on, briskly takes hold of Izuku's hips, spinning both of them around and effectively slamming them both into a counter.
What should've realistically hurt Izuku just made his laughter pour out more, and he watches as realization forms onto Katsuki's face, the man's relief and clear disturbance outlined on his features as he sighs exasperatedly, letting out a low grunt as he breathlessly swears,
''Fuck, Izuku. You little motherfucker.'' He slumps his head down, still pinning Izuku to the counter, his arms splayed on either side of him, and his hair almost skims Izuku's chin.
Flushed, but out of laughter this time, Izuku just feels his grin growing; still having not properly acknowledged his position, and lets the words spill out before he can stop them,
''Off guard, Kacchan?'' He teases.
''No shizzles.'' He lifts his head up and rolls his eyes and Izuku can't stop his smirk from widening even more.
''Shizzles? Kacchan, you're a changed man.'' Izuku proudly amends, ''What were you even so lost in thought of?'' Izuku queries, and he can feel the euphoria of his laughter fading down.
Katsuki immediately tenses up, a dust of blush tinting his cheeks and his arms caging even more into Izuku's personal space,
''First of all, fuck you,''
''Kacchan-'' Izuku gapes, He had just praised him!
''Secondly, shut up.
Finally, I was making popcorn, Dipshit.'' Katsuki leans in somehow more, their bodies almost touching and their faces only an inch or three apart.
The close contact comes so quickly that Izuku can only stutter out an stumbling reply,
''O-oh. Movie tonight?'' Izuku gulps and realises he is utterly and undeniably trapped by Katsuki.
That same blush comes rushing back to his face, and he can smell Katsuki hardwood, pinecone cologne emitting off of his body.
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki deadpans,
''No, I was making popcorn for us to go fishing.''
''There's no lakes around us, Kacchan.''
Shoving a nitro-glycerine hand into Izuku's freckled face, Katsuki finally backs away whilst pushing off using Izuku's nose as a boost.
With a sigh, he speaks,
''Sarcasm, dense idiot.''
''I knew that!'' Izuku protests, whining (He didn't know that).
''Uh huh.''
''Kacchan!”
''Yes, Izuku?''
To that honourable response, Izuku finds his mouth unable to create any words and he just purses his lips with a pout.
Therefore, Izuku does the only thing he knows how to handle with his tongue.
He sticks it out.
Unlike Katsuki's reaction with Hatsume, he merely sticks up a middle finger to Izuku's taunting face, and grabs the popcorn prepped with butter and strolls his way over to the couch.
Grabbing himself a Fanta and Katsuki's favourite, Sprite, quickly from the fridge, he trails after the blonde and sits himself about a foot away from Katsuki.
Placing the drinks on the condensation-stained coffee table, Izuku sits back into his couch, resting his neck after what felt like an incredibly long day, certain it would most likely span over many chapters in a book.
Chucking a piece of popcorn into his mouth, Katsuki places his socked-feet on the table to which Izuku glares at but makes no move to bat off as a more responsible individual (Iida) would've, and instead he just reaches past Katsuki's feet for the remote and presses down the 'On' button.
''What streaming platform?'' Izuku spares a small glance at Katsuki before making no hesitation to speedily decide on,
''Disney plus.''
Izuku makes no objection himself, happily pleasant at the blonde's selection because he seriously doesn't think he can cope with another crappy Netflix documentary that Todoroki would typically choose.
Another episode of *Unsolved mysteries* might turn him clinically insane.
Clicking on the blue logo, Izuku scrolls through lazily, scanning each category for a diamond in the rough.
A particular poster catches his eyes,
''We need to watch this.'' He states, determinedly staring Katsuki in his magma eyes.
''Hah? No. Didn't know you were into this loser flip, 'Zuku.'' He scoffs, reaching for the remote to do his own scrolling, but Izuku quickly stretches his arm out behind him, swiftly removing any sign of Katsuki reaching the remote out of sight.
''Juno is not loser shit, Kacchan!''
''You just swore!?''
''You just called Juno loser 'flip'!?''
''Cause it is!'' Katsuki gets closer to Izuku, reaching his lean arm out to grab his destination, but Izuku has always been better at slipping and sliding out of people's grasps than Katsuki.
Arching his back, Izuku reaches out even more, pushing his limits and extending the remote even further.
Getting on all fours, Katsuki hastily crawls his way to Izuku body, growling,
''Give it to me - Nerd!'' He reaches out, body now caging Izuku's frame, but with each grasp of his hand, Izuku moves the remote into a different position.
''Nuh uh.'' He strains out, too focused on keeping the black plastic away from Katsuki's prying hands, and he wiggles underneath the man's compression shirt.
With Izuku successfully avoiding and squirming underneath Katsuki, the blonde's irritation only grows as he continuously thrusts his arm out into the air to no avail or victory.
Izuku, now mastered the art of keeping the remote away, sticks heavily onto the offensive, hands now grasping at Katsuki in attempt to push his body off of his.
Thankfully, it works, and Katsuki's body tumbles off of the sofa, in-between the narrow gap of the sofa and table.
Unthankfully, Izuku trails right after him, landing smack right on top of him.
With a thud and an 'Oof', Izuku finds himself splat across Katsuki's chest, legs intertwined and arms splayed out across the rug beneath the table, a circular thing made of sage green and light green stripes.
Dumbfounded by the impact, Izuku's head swarms momentarily, and in a moment of pure weakness and vulnerability, Katsuki smarmily takes his chance and reaches for the remote, but Izuku is one step ahead, only focused on the remote control currently, and speedily rips it out of his proximity.
Squiggling off of Katsuki, he flips himself off of him, and finds it to be a rookie mistake as Katsuki starts more brutal attacks.
Katsuki somehow finds himself straddling Izuku's hips and stretching over, his compression shirt showing a slither of his abs -
Not the time Izuku.
The boy with emerald eyes, with lack of mobility on his bottom-half, finds his hips twists at odd angles, back cracking and arms flailing, but the chaos soon ends when Katsuki decides to play final move, finding Izuku's free hand and pinning it down.
With only one accessible limb, Izuku tries to play a shameful last-minute move, attempting to nip Katsuki's scalp with the butt of the remote.
Without key forethinking though, Izuku manages to forget Katsuki's trained reflexes from days and days of hero work, and before the piece of rectangular plastic can make contact, the blonde grabs the green's wrist, effectively pinning it down.
Now with all four limbs unable to move, Izuku pants heavily, matching Katsuki's own deep breaths of recollection.
''You... are a slippery little thing.'' Katsuki breathes out, plucking the remote rashly, smirking down at Izuku's meaningless eyeroll.
''Am I?'' Izuku speaks, equally out of breath, his chest rising and falling in the same pattern, hearts thumping at the same pace.
Izuku's eyes are haze-like, dazed even, as he takes in a large inhale, breathing out slowly right into Katsuki's focused face.
All the blonde's attention is on him, the remote is still in his palm but the grip is feverishly loose, and wine-alighted eyes stare down at him in awe, appreciation, a familiar challenging glint and something else that Izuku can't pinpoint directly, can't put a particular word to it.
There's too much adoration, too much fondness, warmth and reverence that Izuku can't handle.
Along with that glare that warms Izuku hearts uncontrollably, along with it comes a dish load of vulnerability.
So, taking his chance, despite knowing it's an extremely dirty move, Izuku quite frankly promptly knees Katsuki where the sun doesn't shine.
Immediately, the boy above him doubles over, the remote shooting out of his hands and Izuku nippily sits up, grabs it, and leans against the sofa to catch his breath.
The other boy however, somehow curled into a fetal position, groans on the floor and Izuku cringes at the thought of his harshness, a tiny spec of guilt filling his gut, but not much.
The spiky-haired man shoots his head, shooting daggers at the green-haired boy who just lets out a wet laughs to the expression.
''That was a dirty move, and you know it, Nerd.'' He growls, sitting up next to Izuku pressed against the couch, and Izuku quickly makes it his job to slump on the other boy and they wheeze in unison, faces flushed and eyelids droopy from their catfight.
''Yeah, it kinda was.'' Izuku murmurs, but his face smooshed against Katsuki's shoulder led it to sound extremely muffled.
Not even bothering to sit up and repeat it for clear pronunciation, he just digs his nose harder into the boy's t-shirt, sighing contentedly and catching his lost breath.
They sit there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Izuku decidedly shifts his butt from the rug to the hard-wood panels just before his shelfs of DVDs.
Running a finger delicately along the spines of the cases, he watches the dust fly off and fade into the air around him, and he scans the multiple titles before creating a compromise.
''Alright, we go classic then. Die hard.”
He pulls the case out from the top, waving it at Katsuki who considers it momentarily before giving a face of indifference, which in Katsuki language translates to,
'I like that idea.'
Pleased with himself for his amazing skills at pleasing the infamous Dynamight, he turns on the DVD players, opens the compartment, and slides the disc in easily.
As the ads start playing. Izuku stands up and stretches like a cat, before swaying back to the L-shaped couch.
Katsuki himself also lift himself off of the floor, easily just pushing his arms up and simply landing with a small 'poof' in the crook of the L.
Leaning against the arm of the chair, Izuku stretches his leg out onto Katsuki's lap and turns off the lightshade.
As the movie starts playing, Izuku focuses on the ads, fascinated by all the old quality movies that would've seemed fantastic and top-tier at the time, but faintly, and only faintly, he can feel a pair of eyes on not the screen, but him the whole time.
He doesn't seem to mind, he thinks.
Chapter 6: illuminated
Notes:
HEYHEY!!! this took slightly longer bc i have whooping cough, my friend got dumped, my sister moved back into uni and my friend exposed my secret editing account!!
anyways… ENJOY!! this only took me two days to write but jesus i felt like i was on that balcony forever.
also please, if u see anyone ask for a pro hero bakugo and teacher deku fic, recommending mine would mean so much!!
fyi: it feels so weird writing katsuki and the word ‘deku’ never exiting his mouth??? almost wanna add that in but idk how id slide it to fit….
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The movie was on, and as Izuku tended to always do, he found himself sucked in the film's tense atmosphere as John McClane crawls through the vent, his lighter flickering harshly.
This film was set in the past, a lengthy past, where humans didn't have quirks yet, and Izuku found himself especially drawn into those worlds where he would've been the normal in society.
Where he would've been normal in middle school, and where he would've been normal now.
As much as Izuku was glad of the timeframe he was born in, happy in the golden ages of heroes, he sometimes wonders what life would've been like where his only troubles would be getting late detentions on hasty Mondays.
Nonetheless, the film lures him, watching these people defend themselves with only their raw skin, their bones and muscles being their shields; the anticipation crawling on his skin and the suspense setting down into the back of his neck.
Katsuki hadn't made too many comments, seemingly as though he too was sucked into the movie's rebuilding tension, despite having watched it uncountable amount of times with each other.
When they were younger, Katsuki would watch it because he thought John was extremely badass with his raw muscle and determination, and Izuku also found John amazing, but because he found his courage and will to save those people bravely.
So, it was a shock to both of them when Katsuki's phone on the table began to ring loudly.
Immediately flinging his feet off of the coffee table, the blonde swerved round to grab his phone hastily, urgent to calm the insufferable vibrations it let out into their eardrums.
''Shit - Gonna take this, alright?'' He looks at Izuku, to which the Lincoln-green haired boy just nods, and Katsuki taps the 'Accept' button, gently shoving Izuku's leg off, leaving the couch and Izuku alone in the living room as the blonde sets into the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him.
Pressing pause on the movie, Izuku leans over to bend his butt over the arm of the chair, turning on his lamp and blinking a couple times to adjust his eyes to the newfound light of his room.
Stretching after not moving his limbs for a while, he pats the surrounding fabric for his phone, clicking it open once he finally founds it amongst the dips of the couch and laying down, stretching his lanky silhouette over the expanse of the 'I' in 'L'.
Absentmindedly scrolling through his Instagram feed, he likes some of Uravity's posts, sends some mummy issues memes to Todoroki, and then sends cute frog videos to Tsuyu.
After a minute or so, it eventually becomes boring watching images of his hero friends or famous celebrities pop and he shuts it off once again with a sigh as he sits up, his hair now an even messier mess of wild curls.
Running a hand through his mane to tame it, he glances at the boy outside who Izuku can see through the glass panels, and notices familiar bright flames blistering, throughout the now starry night-time sky, around his hands, the sparks dancing between his fingertips as he convulses and flexes his knuckles irritantly.
Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, Izuku contemplates on what could be getting Katsuki so riled up and what that person on the phone could be saying to him to get his quirk to activate because of his wild emotions which clearly happens to be an angry looming presence - Like dark shadow… Izuku comes to the rough conclusion.
Still staring at the blonde, Izuku watches the man angrily respond to whatever the other person's word were; running a hand through his wild spikes - something he did when frustrated - the mint haired boy observes as Katsuki dismissably hangs up the phone with a rough tap on the pixels.
From seeing the boys outbursts over several years, Izuku can tell when Katsuki is pissed, and trust him when he says this, Katsuki is piiiiisssed from his mannerisms; and that's from afar.
Standing up from where he originally sat, Izuku makes his way squeezing past the tight gap between the sofa and coffee table, and nuzzles between the two beanbags to make his way to the balcony's glass doors.
Sliding open the exit, he steps over the tiny step to reach the gravelly base of his terrace and greets the harsh slap of celestial wind acceptingly, stepping out into the night's warm hands as they wrap around him.
Burying his neck further into his hoodie, he stands beside the blonde without a word.
The crimson-eyed boy doesn't reply, but just burrows his hands into his pockets, pulling out a cigarette - slightly surprising Izuku.
Concentrating a flame to the tip of hand, he lights it with ease and puts the circular prism to his mouth, inhaling slowly before exhaling meaningfully the smoke into the open air.
Distancing it from his red lips, Katsuki just sighs as he looks down unassumingly beyond the railing, and Izuku looks at the boy's gorgeous side profile.
The gentle flick of his nose, the longing bump of his lips, the sharp edges of his jaw, the soft flash of his eyelashes resting on his under eyes when he blinks.
All of it, it was perfect.
He was perfect.
''What's up, Kacchan?'' He finally asks after a beat of understanding silence, curiosity finally nagging at his tongue so badly he had to ask.
''Nothing.'' Katsuki responds half-heartedly, eyes still searching the buildings in front of his eye-sight as though he's deep in thought, a slight tick in his jaw going off as the words exit past his mouth barrier.
''Yeah, my ass.'' Izuku is the one to scoff this time, and he mentally lectures himself for all the involuntary but necessary swearing he's done tonight - Hypocrisy has overcome his soul.
''How come you can swear!?'' Katsuki turns his eyes to look at Izuku incredulously, but the shift of conversation reveals Katsuki's true intentions to change the obvious touchy subject.
''Don't avoid the question.'' Izuku meets Katsuki's eyes, stubbornness yet sympathy glowering in his clover irises.
The two share dangerous eye contact, challenging each other again for the second time in this day alone as they converse vaguely with their eyes, emotions pouring out of them.
No words are particularly outlined per say, but they both have the general opposing messages of,
'Tell me.'
'It's nothing.'
hidden inside of their faces, contrasting words clashing with one another.
With a reluctant sigh, Katsuki breaks their chain of messages first, turning his body back towards the view before them, so Izuku follows, matching the stance the blonde has taken; leaning against the railing.
''Those damn eyes...'' He mutters faintly, and Izuku manages to catch the words barely; registering the blonde's little comment with confusion.
Before he can think over that remark, the hero continues on with his statement,
''This was my weekend off, but they just called me to go complete some heckin' mission-''
''Right now!?'' Izuku's jaw drops at the nagging life that must be Katsuki's normal schedule at this point, thinking back on the time on his phone which read '10:31'.
It's already beyond Katsuki's typical bedtime from high school, and if they're regularly defeating Japan's dominating villains everyday, Izuku can't even comprehend the demanding lifestyle of a pro.
Bittersweetly, it almost makes Izuku wish that was his issue to deal with too.
Katsuki nods wordlessly, his tongue moving to his cheek as it swirls around in deep thoughts.
''Did you say yes?'' Izuku knows it's a silly question, clear and sure of Katsuki's answer so he's not surprised when the boy beside him just scrunches up his face in disdain, shaking it rightfully.
''Nah.
They promised a day off to me this weekend, I wouldn't accept that; not in a million years.'' He says firmly, eyes set ahead of him determinedly.
Izuku twiddles his fingers ahead of him, furrowing his brows before turning to look at the street-lamp illuminated blonde boy beside him.
He doesn't know if it's the right thing to say, but he would prefer to say what's on his mind rather than suppress it with another answer.
''But... What if they need you there? What if someone gets hurt because of you're not there to help them, Kacchan?
I know it's not my place Kacchan - like no where near my place at all - but I can't help think that shouldn't you save anyone when you have the chance?''
Izuku questions timidly, unsure if the boy will exclaim explosively at the teacher's queries.
To his utter shock however, the blonde doesn't whip around to shout at Izuku for questioning his morals or explode Izuku's whole complex right then and there, but instead he just chuckles softly and shift his heads an inch to make minimal but strong eye contact with the pistachio haired man.
''Once a hero, always a hero,'' He smiles softly before the smirk fades off of his face,
''Hero work... It's... different from UA. It's demanding, exhausting, and hella messy.
Not that I don't love it, because it's what I fought my whole life and death for, but breaks are more necessary when the work gets more critical; and trust me, Izuku, it's fucking critical.''
He breathes in and out, the agitation visibly growing in his chest as his lungs contract more and more chestly.
''I thought my hero work would be beside you, Izuku, so yeah, sue me if I choose to spend time with you rather than doing a job someone else could take over.
I don't get a lot of spare time anymore; Just let me be here tonight with you.''
Oh woah.
On one hand, Izuku can't help but approve of the amazing capacity Katsuki dealt with Izuku's slight interrogation, adoring the nurtured grasp the blonde has over his anger and emotions; which he's clearly been managing with since UA.
Izuku can only guess that throughout his arm rehabilitation, he learnt to accept his flaws and mistakes, and undoubtedly it's been made clear he's grown throughout all those progressive therapy sessions.
He didn't burst out at the smallest critique, or nit-pick deeply into Izuku's assumptions; and Izuku's felt a blossom of fondness inside his chest.
On the other, extremely overwhelming hand, the blonde's words reach Izuku somewhere where he can't exactly touch in his heart.
As though a newfound ventricle had been discovered that belonged directly to Katsuki, one born from the touching words he had just let out so nonchalantly.
Despite the bland look on Katsuki's face as he practically confessed a liking to Izuku's presence and company, the mint haired boy can only blush slightly in the dusky cold air underneath the colossus galactic blanket of stars reigning over the pair like a jar trapping a helpless spider.
With his face burning up, he can only peep out a small response of recognition to the boy's overbearing words as they process through Izuku's ears.
''Oh.''
''Oh?''
''Oh, yeah no, that's cool! I mean, Of course, you could just stay after all,'' Izuku waves his arms wildly, the blush spreading even further from cheek-to-cheek and his hair batting around expressively,
''Y'know, Could I ask a question though?'' He wonders.
''Hm? Shoot.''
''Why did you look angry? On the phone, I mean, your flames were even showing up. You looked pretty piiiiiii...-annoyed!'' Izuku stops himself from swearing again; he will stop this swearing habit he's picked up today.
Maybe the Kacchan-bug is a real thing?
Maybe swearing is contagious?
''I told them where I was, protocol when you can't attend a certain mission-''
''Understandable, I guess.''
''Yeah, it is. They got fucking pissed though, saying it wasn't 'significant','' He mocks, ''Like they get to choose my personal life.''
''That's fucking stupid.'' So much for not swearing, Izuku, ''Who are they to determine your life? Sometimes I forget how toxic hero society is.'' Izuku pinches his brow, soothing the building up irritation growing in his cranium.
''I don't think I've heard you swear more, 'Zuku.'' He smirks, and Izuku only rolls his eyes teasingly in response, ''But yeah, fucking stupid.'' He repeats Izuku's own words for emphasise.
''Then they started talking some shit about how spending time with you would damage my training etiquette. How that when I'm with you nothing efficient is getting done because I can't do quirk training.''
Katsuki speaks lowly, agitation only growing in his tone as he reflects back on whatever the speaker said.
Izuku can only feel his fingers clench into tense fists as the gap in his heart about his quirkless status widens slightly, each word pushing open a small hole, as though the words provide enough smoke to blow out One for all's embers itself.
''Oh, right. That's... I know quirkless discrimination has went down a lot ever since the war, but I tend to forget it's still about, you know?'' Izuku lets off with a short chuckle, biting his lip at the thought some kids may still be living the childhood he lived and tries so hard to rid of for future generations.
He knows he's done a lot for quirkless society, considering prejudice rates have went down significantly and more people are inspiring and supporting those 20%'s dreams to become a hero, and even some UA kids in different classes are quirkless in the hero course.
Unfortunately, Izuku didn't get to teach them due to his inability to teach them the ins and outs of quirk manipulation, so the conference at UA ended up giving him the students with the most potential quirks, all varying in strengths but all with promising futures.
Of course at UA all classes are split into equal strength, but Izuku's student are merely stronger due to the fact that the teacher has nurtured their quirks and shaped them into more powerful weapons, turning them into beautiful powers that could defeat majority of villains.
At their young age, they're extremely well-trained in combat and battle strategy and Izuku is only excited as to how he can further their personal quips and little nips about their quirk.
The point is, Quirkless people don't have to resort to being irrelevant police officers anymore, but all because of Izuku's work, they're accepted warmly into the greatest age of heroes.
So, to hear that some people still think so lowly of them despite Izuku's grit, determination and trauma to reach their independence, Izuku can not only feel hurt, but anger that he won't let out churns silently in his stomach.
Katsuki responds with his own bite in his bark,
''Yeah, fucking pissed me off madly, I wanted to fucking punch the bitch.'' Katsuki growls out, lifting his cigar back up to his lips and blowing in, the frustrated his face slowly relaxing as he closed his eyes, blowing out softly.
Admiring the blonde's face, Izuku gazes at his blonde eyelashes, blushing slightly as they bat against his under eyes; looking so entirely wonderful and so entirely human against his strong façade.
''That's bad for you, Y'know?'' Izuku comments offhandedly, staring at the cigarette and then gliding his eyes back to crimson eyes which are softly illuminated by the gentle orange glow, but soon hushed by the blunt being tossed carelessly over the creaky wooden railing.
Slightly surprised by the submissive nature, Izuku leans over the balcony slightly more, hair dipping over his face as he watches the lighted spark drift down to the floor like a firefly.
Lifting himself up from where he was bent, he looks back at Katsuki, breaking out into a smile he can't help but burst out at the deadpanned face that just threw a cigarette wordlessly over his balcony.
''Why're you smiling nerd?'' Katsuki says meanly, well it would've been meanly if not for the own timid smirk breaking out onto his lips, ''You look creepy.'' He pokes the teacher's forehead.
Izuku lazily tries to bat it away, waving his hand in the vague direction of where Katsuki's hand laid, and rolls his eyes amusedly.
''You look creepy too right now! I mean, come on, smiling is so unnatural on you.'' Izuku pokes at the bear teasingly, leaning against the wall behind him.
''Is it?'' Katsuki questions, widening his smirk into a grin cheekily and leaning his own wall against his back, the pair now parallel.
''Yeah... So gross,'' Izuku drags out mockingly,
''I mean, those teeth?
the lips?
the dimples?
Ew.'' He lies through his teeth, knowing full well he thinks of that smile as one of the most alluring things in universe, but feigning disgust through his taunting which doesn't seem to be fooling Katsuki that well.
''You love my dimples.'' Katsuki sneers with his nose up, wine-alighted eyes glowing underneath the small porch light that illuminates the enclosed surface that makes up Izuku's balcony.
''Hm. They're alright, I suppose.'' Izuku shrugs meaningless, meaning deep down he honestly adored to an unimaginable extent.
''Oh, and don't get me started on those freckles - they make me want to vomit.'' He adds on jeeringly for the sake of it, fake retching at the dotted constellations on the sun-kissed man.
''You've noticed, eh?'' Katsuki digs his hands into his sweatpants pockets, a light sneer taking place upon his unusually soft features,
''They always pop up in the sun which is... common nowadays.
Makes me look soft.'' He scoffs softly as he turns his head away to look at the buildings that create their view, his head reflecting gorgeously underneath the soft glow.
''We're matching, aren't we though?'' Izuku grins bashfully, white teeth blinding underneath the stars above them, shrugging minimally as he tilts his head sheepishly.
''Yeah, we are.'' Katsuki turns back to lock eyes with the viridescent-themed man,
''You'll always have more than me though, Nerd.'' He pushes his hand to Izuku's face, batting it playfully, causing Izuku to blink harshly and shake his head at the sudden contact.
Waving his hand in vague area Katsuki's was, Izuku just smirks playfully while rolling his eyes, fatigue overtaking his droopy eyelids as the early dawn from this morning hits him in the late dusk.
''Yeah, yeah.'' Izuku twists his body so he can lean on the railing again, resting his body weight on the creaky railing to hold his body up, knocking his head meaningfully to the side as it cracks refreshingly.
Katsuki follows, now in their original position of being next to each other against the stars and the city.
Izuku feels like Anthem for a seventeen year old girl should be playing in the background of the mediocre, melancholy indigo sky that fades to a beautiful periwinkle, stars glittering the earthy blanket as it folds perfectly and moulds against the curves of the mountains and skyscrapers.
Park that car.
''Hey, before we go back inside, I have one more question.'' Katsuki speaks in the dead of starlight.
Drop that phone.
Izuku hums considerably as to signify for the question to commence.
Sleep on the floor -
''Did you really stay up all night to master your all might impression?'' He speaks, shocking Izuku undoubtedly, the question more humorous than expected.
The track skids out to a splutter.
Izuku barks out a laugh, hearing a distant 'Shh' from a neighbouring person, and quickly clamps a hand over his mouth as he nods vigorously, spluttering out,
''Yes! Yes, I did... oh my god. You don't even wanna-'' The mint-haired boy breaks out into another fit of chuckles loudly,
''Dude, you know that one scene in harry potter where he's like under his covers-'' Izuku makes a weird gesture of the quilt over his head, ''-and he's got his wand shining to read?''
He finishes his reference, excited at finally exclaiming his thoughts and laughing boisterously at the memory.
''Yeah?'' Katsuki responds cautiously, the joke wrapping around his head and his own little grin growing apparent on his face, dimples popping up slightly.
''That's it was like- or what it felt like!'' He smiles so hard it feels like it's indenting itself permanently into his face, picturing his face badly photoshopped on Harry's as he sits awake underneath his covers.
''Alright, laughing-stock. You're being a dipshit and waking everyone up.'' Katsuki lets out his own chuckle, shoving the laughing-infected inside his apartment, adding a little kick to his butt that he gets a 'Oof!' out of.
''Kacchan! Don't kick m-'' He attempts to mutter out before he gets another kick, sending him into a fit of giggles.
''Okay, okay.'' Izuku places his hands up in surrenders, holding a white flag up as he defeatedly hangs his head low, taking a step into the heat of his apartment.
Letting out a content sigh of relief, he hops over to the lamp, clicking it off before pouncing onto the couch.
''Continue the movie?'' He asks, looking at the blonde who is grabbing a blanket despite the heatwaves, and takes it as direction to press play.
''Fucking wait for me-'' Katsuki strides widely back over to the sofa, taking his same position as previously and laying the blanket over him.
Izuku just plainly sticks his tongue out, curling up on the other side as he watches the movie.
It doesn't take long before his eyes start taking longer blinks.
-------------------------------------------------------------
He wakes up with a blanket and pillow surrounding him.
Dream about me.
Notes:
HI HI! please comment my child.
it motivates me so much!!!!stay plus ULTRA!
Chapter 7: how to love
Notes:
hey! INCASE YOU MISSED IT IN THE TAGs or CHAPTER ONE;
uraraka is type one diabetic!!!anyways, now thats out of the way, i had fun writing this chapter and i based the friendship convos around me and my friends interactions; our comfortability levels and body language, etc…
so that was interesting to write.if you enjoy, please comment i will ALWAYS respond and i appreciate it endlessly.
is my writing too technical in this??? sometimes it felt like it just rambled out of me……
with the last of my ranting, i end this with a good old, ENJOY!😊
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The Japanese summer morning greets him through his balcony.
That same balcony was clouded with memories from last night.
Izuku knew that.
It would, however, seemingly be the creator of many more.
Izuku didn't know that part, however.
He groans mindlessly on his sofa, the fabric itching uncomfortably against the bare skin of his spine where his shirt rode up.
This sunny dawn wasn't welcoming Izuku into another day with birds chirping or a peaceful hymn like Sza's Good days, but instead a penetrating banging vacuumed throughout the hazy void that makes up his discombobulated headspace.
He shields his sensitive light eyes to the sun's privacy-invading rays, the concentrated heat of it blaring directly through his less-pigmented irises right through to his optic nerves.
Stretching painfully but refreshingly, Izuku sits up slowly, the sleep still lingering away at his limbs.
Pins and needles stab away at his calves, feeling like little stars indenting themselves into his bare skin or like radio static personifying itself in his legs.
As soon as he manages to make it up right, his hoodie sags back down on him heavily, a grunt escaping his lips as the continuous thundering vibrates through his cranium.
Just thudding, and banging, and... a girls voice?
''Deku! Are you in there?''
A squeaky voice pitches in, the slamming taking a pause as a familiar, bobbed-brunette girl's voice replaces it pleasantly.
Realisation hitting the green-haired sleepy man, he curses hastily under his breath, straightening his hoodie and pulling up his sweats further (despite them not being below his waistline) as he hops over to the door quickly.
Opening it, he's greeted with Uraraka's fist which was already preparing to once again cause a ruckus, and no words are exchanged between them before she welcomes herself inside of his humble-abode.
She bee-lines straight for the particular cabinet where Izuku keeps all his Haribo's and extra Dex-coms for her diabetic status, and she immediately snatches a pack of the gummies and munches on them gratefully, letting out a delighted moan when the sweet makes contact with her tongue.
''Jeez, 'Chaco. I didn't even know you could make that much noise,'' Izuku leans against the cabinet as she props herself up on his counter, easily using her pretty muscular limbs to lift herself atop it.
Rubbing at his eyes, he groans mindlessly, ''So early too...''
''Dude, I was banging at the door for 5 minutes. It's 2:31pm! Figured I would check in.'' She exaggerates endlessly, to which Izuku's eyes practically pop out of his skull.
How long has he been asleep for?
When did Katsuki leave?
Was he an ugly sleeper...? His mum always said he looked adorable when in a deep state of unconsciousness...
Was it really 2!?
Walking swiftly to where his phone sat on the coffee table, he picks it up hastily, clicking it on to check the time which does in fact read the exact time Ochaco stated.
''Shoot! 2pm?!'' He gapes, pocketing his phone and retreating back to the kitchen where Uraraka was watching him from the arch, he himself takes a place on the counter next to her.
''Well, technically 3pm because it's most close to three.'' She speaks, banging her head against the cabinet behind her and chewing unashamed, muffling her words only slightly.
''Shut up.'' He deadpans blandly with no real bite, before blinking and whipping his head in the direction of the girl in his home who had shown up unannounced and efficiently raided him of his snacks,
''Also, why're you here? And raiding my food?!''
''I thought I'd stop by. I have this weekend off,'' She shrugs nonchalantly,
''Oh and, we all know you only have a huge container of Haribo's for my hypos.'' She cheekily smiles, knocking her hanging leg against Izuku's to which he nudges her shoulder with his.
''Yeah, never stops Kaminari from stealing from it too though...'' Izuku mumbles and receives a delicate laugh from the brunette sat next to him whose breath is stinking of Coke-a-Cola gummy,
''So you have this weekend off?'' Izuku inquires, noticing a pattern within the hero system.
''Yeah!'' She responds cheerfully, slumping her weight onto one arm and lolling her hair over her shoulder.
She's also in casual wear, a simple grey sweatshirt, black Uravity sweatpants with two lines of pink darting down them fashionably which she tops off with air force framing her feet, so you can obviously catch the vibe she's off work.
''Hm...'' Izuku hums thoughtfully at this information, registering it in his mind carefully.
Uraraka's interest peaks at this reaction, her head popping up and her brown eyes shining with curiosity, a little twinge at the corner of her warm pink lips, and she opens said lips to ask,
''What's got you so in thought, Sherlock?''
''Curious, Watson?'' Izuku retorts back before sighing and admitting defeatedly,
''It's nothing, Kacchan just said yesterday that he had this weeken-''
''What!?'' Ochaco interrupts without letting Izuku finish his comment, which he didn't think was that absurd in the first place.
Still cumbersome from slumber, he cringes at the loud pitch the girl emitted her high octaves at, before punching her arm without a real force behind it, more like a
'Shut up!' punch, and Izuku hopes he's conveyed the message well.
It doesn't seem to translate correctly, as the girl only yelps at the sudden contact before rubbing the assaulted arm up and down, a look of offensive on her face as she finishes off her amending rubbing with a pat.
''Ouch. Sorry. When did you speak to Katsuki!?'' She also yelps, but at a significantly lower volume and Izuku excuses it.
It wasn't loud enough to bother any of his prying neighbours through the dry clay wall anyway.
''Yesterday? Like I said...?'' Izuku shrugs it off as nonchalantly as he can, knowing the deep nooks and crannies that made up Uraraka's brain winkles to what she was thinking.
''So you two were together?'' She asks with amusement covering her tone, not even trying to hide it as Izuku's cheek light up partially, a faint blush that isn't visible unless deeply examined underneath a UV light.
''He drove me home yesterday.'' Izuku feeds her with the information, the pinker shade on his face getting darker by the minute as he tries his rookie attempts at playing it down to extremely casual in hopes she'll drop it eventually, but to no avail as her round face just opens it's gob again.
''Ah! Right, from work?'' She asks, mainly to herself, as she taps a finger against her chin thoughtfully,
''A lot of us were there yesterday. I was trying to find you, Deku, but I only found Kaminari and Kirishima teaching some kids a manly dance-routine.''
She visibly shivers at the memory, and images of the ketchup-and-mustard duo dancing stiffly flash frequently in his mind.
He, too, visibly shivers.
''I can... imagine that surprisingly vividly.'' He sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, whilst all the while biting his tongue and honest to god hoping that Uraraka will drop the subject before she implies what he knows she'll eventually imply.
''Yeah...'' She, too, inhales deeply,
''You should've seen them... I've never seen more poorly attempted flossing and moonwalks in my whole lifetime - and I've seen Mineta dance.'' She compares, shooting her eyebrows up at her own words.
''Worse than Mineta?'' Izuku gawks, another rapid sequence of a dancing montage quick-firing through his brain.
''Yeah!'' She laughs brightly, a permanent smile stitched onto her face as she lifts a leg up to cross atop her other one,
''I guess Dynamight found you instead?'' She practically purrs at Izuku, and he has to stop himself from jumping off the counter and onto the floor to scream out his feelings.
So close.
Scrunching up his lips to his nose, he vaguely answers, attempting to appear as bland as humanly possible,
''I guess.'' He settles for, deciding it was the perfect line between,
'Yeah he did.' and 'Who cares?'.
Sucked up in his own prideful thoughts at the perfect response, he is rudely awakened out of it by a shoe kicked against his shin.
Yelping, he lifts his leg up to the counter and holds it like a baby holds a blanket and he shoots Uraraka a pout; showing her the poor pitiful man she decided to lowly kick.
''Stop being so vague!'' She huffs out, before giving a sweet smile and Izuku almost gets whiplash from the excellent 180 degree turn in personality she just executed wonderfully.
''What do you want from me, Woman!?'' Izuku groans, it being his turn to knock his head against the cabinet behind him, and from his peripheral he can see Uraraka turn her body so she can flex her whole body into a criss-cross-apple-sauce stance, taking up the entire surface of one of his marble counters.
''Firstly, I need to know what vehicle he drove.'' She places both of her fists in front of her chest excitedly,
''We spent too many nights trying to decipher what the enigma named 'Katsuki' drove.''
She makes a valid point, considering she occasionally joined in Izuku's analytic spirals where they would assume different wonders and curiosity's about their classmates, doing a serious high-five when they got it right.
It was always something to do when bored, traumatised, and can't sleep; so more often than not, Ochaco would manoeuvre her way through the dorm corridors to stand in front of Izuku's pin board in his dorm, marking each vehicle to person.
''Okay... but before I reveal to you the big mystery, what do you drive now?'' Izuku bargains, hoping to fill another spot on his charts.
''Oh, well you probably haven't heard of it...''
Tick.
''It's this pink... kind of- sunsetty? Is that a word?''
Double tick. Izuku might've nailed this on the head with his detective hammer.
''It's called a Polestar. Cost 30,000!''
Home-run!
Wordlessly, he lifts his hand up for a high-five to which a confused Uraraka stares at blankly before hitting it with a normal level of enthusiasm despite her unawareness as to why Izuku is so happy about her car.
''That's exactly what I pinned you down for.'' Izuku smiles, and this time Uraraka puts up her hand and Izuku smashes it as though he's spiritually using One for all.
''Hell- Heck yeah! Even a polestar?''
''No, just a vague and unrecognisable car that's expensive.''
''Oh.''
''I was right though.''
''As always.''
''Stop it, you're going to make me blush.''
''Not as much as Bakugo.''
Caught off guard, Izuku immediately gawps open his mouth, the blood rushing towards his cheek, turning them a maroon similar to Katsuki's eyes, and he can only splutter out incoherent sentences before Uraraka cackles at the obviously humorous expression upon Izuku.
''Maybe I can compete! You're blushing baaad dude.'' Uraraka giggles out, her chest shaking as she points a mocking finger and gestures to Izuku's whole face in general.
Izuku purses his lips and turns away, fanning his face in an attempt to calm down the roaring waves of blood going towards his head alone and hoping it'll calm down the girl's exuberant flushes of pouring laughter.
''Shut up!'' Izuku tenses his shoulders to his ears, his mouth converting into a squiggly line as an idea pops in his head,
''Don't you want to know what Kacchan drives?'' He purrs, using the information over her in the dreams and aspirations that it'll miraculously shut her up.
Miracles do come true.
Somehow, her once crinkled face is quickly transformed into a deadpan as she practically stares through Izuku's skin, muscle, blood, soul and all.
A bit too seriously for his liking she states,
''Tell me.'' Her head creepily quirks to the side in a familiar manner a haunted doll in a horror movie would, and Izuku can feel the chills run across his spine, their little cellular feet traversing up and down on the bumps of his bones.
''Eager, aren't we...?'' He smiles sheepishly, expecting her expression to falter under the poor and lame attempt at charisma from the teacher, but instead she makes no visible amendment to his horrible try at banter and continues to stare at him penetratingly.
''A black, matte motorcycle.'' He blurts out of inability to keep it in any longer, and Uraraka's face drops and widens significantly, and when Izuku thought she couldn't possible make her voice go any louder, she quite literally squeals directly into Izuku's poor new born ears.
Covering his ear drums hastily with his scarred hands, he winces at the noise before his arms are efficiently ripped from where they cupped his delicate earlobes, and effectively find themselves now being held by Uraraka's delicate hands as she clings onto his wrists with a rising amount of energy.
As she opens her mouth to inevitably babble once again, he lifts his arm with her hand still holding onto it and covers her mouth with his palm; shooting her a darted look to convey the urge of silence.
She scrunches her eyebrows, hastily making the decision to tear his hand away before hesitating as she notices Izuku's pointing glare.
Taking in deep breathes visibly, she turns her yank into a pry as she slowly takes off the fingers preventing her from speech, and she shoots Izuku a promise in her eyes that she won't be too loud.
Trusting her, He lets Uraraka remove his hand from her lips and she closes her eyes in thought before opening them with a glint of excitement in them.
''Oh my god! How did we never guess that!?'' She exclaims at a volume Izuku declares as reasonable as he vigorously nods in agreement to her bewilderment.
''I know! Insane, right?'' Izuku shrugs whilst smiling uncontrollably, and Uraraka just lets go of his wrists, putting them back in her lap as she hums to herself thoughtfully.
''So..'' She starts, and Izuku can already detect the mischief in her tone.
She was so sickly sweet when they first met... Who knew a demon in disguise hid underneath that deadly disguise?
He thinks to himself as she continues her trail of thoughts,
''You rode a Motorcycle with Bakugo?
Did you have to put your hands around his waist?
Did he have matching helmets?
Was his back muscly?”
The girl rambles, letting all of her questions pour out of her inquisitively and Izuku can only succumb to the girls queries, knowing if he didn't it would probably nag her beyond forever; and with that, came her asking him continuously too.
''Yes. I just told you that.'' He responds to her first question.
''Shut up, Smartass.''
Ignoring her, he answers the second,
''No, I didn't put my hands around his waist! I actually sat upside down and did cartwheels, I'm just that skilled.''
''Dude!'' Uraraka flicks him on the nose as she grumbles.
''What?'' He rubs his nose hurtfully, despite almost expecting it with the snarky answers he was giving.
''You know what. I need the details!'' She whines, stretching behind her onto the counters, laying down her back with her legs still crossed before she meaningly stretches.
Rising from her position, she stares at Izuku expectantly and he cant help but comply, elaborating his answer,
''Yes, I held his waist,'' He begins and realises he won't be able to go through retelling this without flushing as a dust of blush sprinkles across his face,
''Yes, it was a cliché Rom-Com scene, and yes, it was far too intimate.'' He flushes harder, directing his glance away from Uraraka.
''Helmets?'' She pry's further into the topic, obviously feeding her soul deeply based on his replies.
''He only had one, but he gave it to me.'' He chuckles fondly at the memory and Uraraka hums, causing Izuku to look back at her.
He regrets it immediately, her eyebrows waving smoothly in suggestive patterns, as she coos out,
''Didn't know Bakugo could be such a gentleman.'' She states, which wouldn't have been a shocking statement if not for the swooning tone she held stably in her voice.
''And... muscular back?''
Izuku gawks at the nonchalantly asked absurd question, letting out an inhumane noise.
He didn't register it when she immediately asked, too focused on his bland façade which he had just let up after a miserable run of attempts that never convinced Uraraka fully anyway.
Feeling more ounces of blood rush to his cheeks, he swallows the hard lump in his throat and harshly closes his agape mouth with a bit too much force,
''It doesn't matter...'' He manages to make the words escape his mouth without a stutter going along with it, despite his wobbly voice, he continues,
''It's not that serious.''
''Oh yes it is, Deku. I'm going to pry out of you what happened next when I'm not emotionally overwhelmed - A motorbike ride!?
That is so How-to-lose-a-guy-in-10-days coded,'' Izuku opens his mouth to object but she decides it her turn to silence him, settling one demanding finger over his lips as she glares at the boys viridian eyes,
''Don't argue with me, it's quite literally a scene in the movie, and I know it is because it's the best Rom-Com in history.'' She shut him up briefly but quickly and he can only oblige to her words, nodding along to the fact it is one of the best movies.
Pushing her finger away, to which she lets him reluctantly, he merely speaks,
''Who said I was going to argue? In
fact, I was just going to say that the movie would've been more emotionally-impacting if it was called
'How to love a guy in 10 days'
instead of name-dropping the title 20 minutes in, and if the title was 'How to love' it would've outlined the positive and negative connotations of their relationship, showing their melancholy and beautiful approach at love rather than choosing 'Lose' because it's mentioned in the movie.
It's like how songs are better when the title isn't in the chorus, or the song at all.''
Izuku rambles, letting out the thoughts on that title that have lingered in his mind whenever it's brought up.
Uraraka blinks in response, slightly taken aback, before she asks with her face blank,
''... Wanna watch it?''
''...Yes.''
Notes:
i am having a ROAD TRIP with these references.
also i might have lupus disease??? so thats fun.
and i tore an abdominal wall….
THE AO3 CURSE IS REAL!!!!
Chapter 8: nachos
Notes:
this is so much later than all the other chapters im sorry D:
im rewatching blue period rn, if u havent watched it.. go watch it right NEOW. >:(
its hella good!!!honestly, this chapter is silly.
no katsuki im sorryyy!! but this chapter is just as focused on URARAKA AND IZUKU’s PLATIONIC SOULMATE BOND >:D
no srsly i love them.i value friendships in fics HEAVILY.
no friendship developed in a fic? i hate it.
if thats not your thiiing…. this chapter might not be too fun.but for those of you who love friendly interactions and building a community in fics, tell me how i did!!
are my references too often? i cant help noting my favourite shows or movies down, especially when i seize the chance.
its too fun.
SORRY this is a loong note.
go read :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Too much of his life was equating to movie-watching...
…were the words that coursed and echoed throughout Izuku's thoughts briefly as he shamelessly reached a hand over to the bowl on Uraraka's lap, snatching one of his home-made nachos created efficiently with Dorito's, spare salsa and melted cheese that happened to be in his fridge, and he munched it happily as he continued to not making any movement to change his current state despite his inner criticising.
Currently, Andie Anderson was causing Havoc at Benjamin Barry's daily Poker-night, as all his friends watched dismissably in the background; judge and disgrace apparent on their face.
Izuku is unable to stop himself from cringing painfully at the scene as the pair with comical full name's simply choose to act as though this is their normal lifestyle.
Second-hand embarrassment courses through the green haired boy whose hair is not so green from the TV's bright lighting and his dim surroundings, and he can't help but suck in a sharp breath and dart his head from the direction of the digital box when Andie forces a healthy sandwich into Ben's friends hands; efficiently replacing the pizza that he was preparing to eat.
His gaze lands on the brunette whose discomfort is also visible on her face, and he lets out a short chuckle at the sight of it, quickly stopping as he bites his lips in anticipation.
Knowing the film after an endless amount of re-watches and binging, he is aware
this is the turning point when the two main's have an argument.
Choosing to ignore the chaos of the following stage directions, he scans over the few titles of books and novels he can make out on his shelves, squinting his eyes in a painful and non-helpful attempt at deciphering the messy fonts.
Quickly giving up shamefully fast, he directs his eyes to his Vinyl's, making a few noticeable words pop up that he recognises as
Taylor swift's 'folklore',
Frank Ocean's Blonde,and the classic Beatles cover of the quadruplet group walking on an English crossroad;
The 50th Anniversary of Abbey Road.
For some odd reason, Izuku had never been a 'musical' person in his teen years, or ever really; because sure, he had took bass guitar lessons at some point, despite it never speaking to him, but that all subtly switched after the festival Class 1-A organised at his time at UA when he caught himself having wholesome fun during the celebration.
After that, he caught himself switching on music whilst completing homework or even when he was sent on a training patrol with a pro-hero as opposed to the podcasts or ted-talks he would motivate himself with, and soon he found the lyrics wrapping themselves around his mind fondly, finding that music was just poetry, literature and beauty all combined into a beautiful and catchy melody for him to hum for days.
His sensitive self would find his own emotions feeling like explosions when listening to a track that reminds him of himself, and his empathy would overload when learning the meaning and symbolism hidden in between lines in songs; all the intention and heartfelt thoughts put behind the words like coding in a computer programme.
As soon as he got a job at UA and was securing his own money stability, the first thing he bought was a Vinyl rack, despite the lack of vinyl's.
At that point, he could already foresee and imagine the rows and rows of plastic album covers filling it up; and he wasn't wrong.
It was filled to the brim, all of the songs compact gorgeously in a claustrophobic sense.
His short attention span is drawn away from it and he turns his eyes back to the screen, the character's quarrels just ending.
Without looking, he reaches for the food in the bowl, but his hand doesn't hit a crumbling nacho that immediately coats his hands with Dorito's dust, but instead it lands directly on the plastic of the dish.
Shocked at the sudden contact, he curiously peeps at the bowl still sitting on the girl's lap who is sucked right into the movie screen, and finds it completely empty; a few scrapes of salsa and tiny triangular pieces the only thing filling up the void of the mountain of nachos that must now be in Uraraka's stomach.
Dropping his jaw in bewilderment, Uraraka looks over at him after hearing the disconnect of his jaw from the roof of his mouth.
They lock eye contact, but Izuku breaks it to indicate with his eyes the lack of tortilla chips.
Uraraka follows his gaze and her own eyes widen significantly, as though she herself doesn't recall eating them.
She smiles sheepishly as she quietly speaks,
''I didn't...'' She hesitates, moving her eyes to look up to the ceiling and gulping, ''...eat all those.''
She points a finger at the ceiling to which Izuku quirks an eyebrow up at, following the way she's pointing her index at.
Once again, his jaw promptly rocks open again at the sight of at least twenty nachos floating, barely skimming the plaster white of his roof, and he lets out an unintentional laugh at the pink aura which envelops the air around the food, proving to him that it was Uraraka's quirk that had been the accidental cause of this.
''How did you even-'' Izuki starts, laughing to himself as he guides his gaze back down to the girl,
''How did you do that, Idiot?'' He teases, an uncontrollable grin etching wryly across his chin and all the way up to his freckled cheeks, the corners of his viridian eyes crinkling at the edge.
Standing up and patting off his sweats, despite them not having any real dirt on them, he reaches up to grab one, the triangular food quickly finding itself pinched between his index and thumb.
Taking a smooth nibble, he ponders and rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, debunking the taste in his mouth and letting it off with a swift shrug, blandly stating,
''At least they taste the same.'' He smiles flashily and tosses the entire chip in his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully as if expecting the cheesy taste to transform into a pile of suspicious mould.
Thankfully, Izuku is grateful that it didn't, and swallows the rest of the remaining crumbs.
He looks at Uraraka, who has also picked a Nacho floating from the air and is thoughtfully eating, a look of consideration evident on her delicate facial features.
A little scrunch is visible between her brows, and she finishes the chip, sharing a look of surprised fondness with Izuku who only laughs at the epiphany.
''Yeah,'' She hums whilst nodding her head appreciatively,
''They kinda taste better than before in an odd sense... Or are my tastebuds weird?''
A look of suspicion crosses her face as she swoops a visible tongue across the interior of her jaw, savouring the remaining lingers of the food.
''I think you're experiencing the common psychological phenomena of the placebo effect.'' Izuku half teases, half theorises at the girl's confession.
Uraraka merely groans, dragging a tired hand down her face before grabbing a nacho out of the air and promptly tossing it in the direction of Izuku, it bonking right off his forehead.
Taken aback, he jumps slightly and scowls lightly at the girl, brushing the side of his hand across where it landed.
''I'm not a teacher, and I'm pretty sure I've lost all my brain cells from floating... nonetheless- stop using all this smart language!'' She frowns whilst tossing an agitated hand in the air playfully, mocking offense with her body language despite it shining through to Izuku that she's not annoyed, but rather curious.
''It's just basically this effect where fake treatment leads to real results - in your case, you believed before eating it that it would taste good, therefore when you ate it your mind tricked you into thinking it was even better.” Izuku finishes explaining quickly, trying to put it in the most simple way to the air-headed girl.
Tapping a thoughtful finger on her chin, she hums thoughtfully and exclaims,
''Ah! I think... I remember Present-Mic explaining that once... even if it was a very - poor'' She decides on, ''explanation.''
''Yeah... his explanations... were eccentric.'' Izuku reminisces on that one time he explained the butterfly effect as an imaginary scenario, quoting,
'A rock being tossed onto the road and causing a full clash collision that killed twenty-six people' and then transitioning into, 'World war three.'
It was... an extreme and improbable example, to say the very least; although, despite that, it may have been the most excusable and coherent idea formulated by his Present Mic's unique mind.
Taking Izuku out of his high school flashbacks, which he has surprisingly frequently, Uraraka breaks the silence as her mouth opens and she speaks softly but decidedly,
''We should probably... clear whatever this is, up.'' She comments, slightly cringing and sighing resignedly; reaching a finger and a thumb up to pinch one and gobble it down.
''The floating nachos? The ones currently skimming my ceiling?
Yeah, that might help.'' Izuku retorts unheedingly sarcastic, but nonetheless playful as he wordlessly picks another nacho out of the gravitational aura, guiding it slowly to the bowl.
They wont stop floating because Uraraka hasn't turned off her quirk, and if she did the tortilla chips would mistakenly collapse and engrain themselves into the fabric of his carpet.
Therefore, he settles for putting them directly above the bowl, so when she turns her quirk off; they'll land perfectly right into the desired plate and they'll once again have a delightful mountain to pick apart as their fingers hike it.
Uraraka childishly rolls her eyes at his sassy remark, smirking despite attempting a grumpy pout, and completely failing to do so.
Izuku feels his own grin growing, his pearly-whites free to the air, and an ache overtakes his cheek at spending so much time with his hero-friends which he only sees on their typical schedule of the constantly switching game and movie nights.
Mirroring Uraraka, he sighs, but he finds it not out of resignation, but out of pure contempt.
-----------------------------------------------
The bowl is empty again.
However, this time Izuku finds his belly not starving for more, but full and bloated.
Groaning, he adjusts his man spread on the couch politely, knocking his feet up to lay down on the sofa.
His socked toes finding the soft padding of Uraraka's thigh - which is currently positioned in her very own man spread in the crook of the L.
Throwing his head back onto the arm of the chair, he blinks rapidly; adjusting to the lampshade turned on that he is now staring directly into, little black spots appearing in his perspective as his vision adjusts from staring at a tv-screen for unlimited amounts of minutes to the bright bulb crowning him like a halo.
Stretching his back like a cat, he whines incoherently as the relief fills his body and tension escapes his soul mindlessly, his eyes scrunching tightly as he finally drops his body back down from it's arch.
Sitting up, his hair is messy and knotted, and Izuku is only reminded of Katsuki's soft hands running through it gently, and he gets a tingly sensation on his fingertips at the memory, feeling as though he has his own explosions igniting.
Yawning, he checks the time and isn't particularly effected when he sees that he has spent the majority of his day, and overall weekend, lolling on the sofa watching pathetic rom-coms that popped into the pair's mind.
It's 1:21am, and with all further procrastination Izuku has been participating in, he purses his lips at the knowledge he would probably be in bed by 4 in the morning.
''Do you mind if I sleep over? I really can't be bothered to go all the way home.'' Uraraka complains, stretching her arm over her head as her shirt rides up slightly, revealing her toned-abs from physical labour.
Teenage Izuku's bisexuality would've likely blushed at that, but he's seen Uraraka do too many gross things to ever seen her in a pure, light silhouette she had deceived him with in their first year.
He finds himself unphased at her naked stomach - but he conflicts back on when he had to exit the room just because Katsuki wore a tight shirt and he had a massive blushing fit.
What type of logic is that?
Knowing she was going to stay anyway, Izuku can't help but let sarcasm be his only defence as he stands up, his back cracking,
''Your apartment is five minutes away.'' He smirks and rolls his eyes, looking back at the girl still on the catch who sends him a glare before sticking up a middle finger, and Izuku just rolls his shoulders in response, walking over to his blanket box to toss one at her.
He grabs the first one off the pile, which happens to be a lilac velvet one, and throws it aiming for her face.
It narrowly misses, but only because the master reflexes all hero's have in common was also drilled and trained into her and she manages to catch in just before it hits her face.
Scrunching his nose up, Izuku just sticks his nose up defiantly, but opens his mouth and walks back over to where she's making her own little nest on the couch, asking considerately,
''You alright with the couch pillows? You can have some of mine, if you want?'' He shrugs and sticks out his bottom lip in thought, showing her it really doesn't matter as he, after all, only takes up one side of his double bed.
Despite the tempting offer, Uraraka thinks over it briefly before shaking her head, mouthing 'Nah' in the meanwhile, the word not leaving her mouth but the message conveying simply between the two.
Mutual tiredness hits both of them, a yawn escaping their agape jaws simultaneously.
Immediately looking to dart their head in the direction of their fellow yawner, a smug and shocked expression crosses both of their face, matching smiles.
''You know, I read somewhere that soulmates yawn at the same time.'' Uraraka comments dismissably, nuzzling deeper in the sofa cushion she claimed as her pillow, yanking the purple velvet blanket up to her shoulder.
Compared to the cold contrast hardwood of his floor he feels beneath him after being tucked up the sofa on the whole day, he feels envious of the girl who looks as warm as a poppy in the blossoming spring.
''That's cause we were meant to meet.'' Izuku replies, ruffling her hair messily and smiling subconsciously.
Softly, with no energy to break out into a full on grin, but there.
Definitely there.
Uraraka doesn't reply, but bats his hand away lazily.
She completely and utterly misses.
She doesn't seemed to bothered by it though, mustering up the energy to push him back and he lets her, stumbling away.
Turning swiftly on his socks against the wooden boards of the ground, he widens the distance and heads for his bedroom, which he can feel calling him, like when a cartoon character smells a pie and starts floating in the air.
That trail of smoke and scent is trailing him to draw him back to the warm, comfy, consent of his bed; despite him already knowing he wouldn't be going into it.
Reaching the doorway and the light switch, he lays his hand over it, preparing to turn it off as per usual.
''Good night.'' Izuku says thoughtfully, palm lingering directly above the switch, rubbing at his eye with his free hand.
''Night, 'Zuku. Don't let the bed bugs bite!'' She responds sounding as though sleep is already claiming her, her silhouette turning so her back is facing him, and he swears he can hear the soft snores emitting from her open mouth as soon as the room evaporates into a void of darkness.
He sighs, blindly walking in the total lack of light, and reaches his doorknob through muscle memory. Closing his fingers against the metal, he twists and enters into the familiar room, the sight of a tempting double bed and nagging desk staring at him.
Running a hand through his untamed curls, which have only grown throughout the long course of the day, he drags his heels behind himself as he sits at his desk, the familiar padding moulding around his backside, and he takes comfort into leaning on the soft butt of the seat.
He must've left his side-lamp on, as the room is illuminated in a beautiful orange glow, turning all the rusty brown leather spines into an iridescent dusty sunset, comparing sweetly to the night-time sky bleeding into his room from the open window.
His white curtains are blowing delicately, and the breeze rubs his neck coldly, a shiver running down his spine at the unnatural sensation, as though the gust of air is a silver hand massaging his nape.
Although, the cold summer night will likely gift him a cold due to his surprisingly weak immune system; and he is aware from experience that his students will likely burst into tears at the thought of the viridian haired teacher not arriving into school, and he doesn't wish for another twenty 'Get well soon!' parcels to be bombarded to his household... he had a flu.
As sweet as it was, he has never seen a delivery man be more distressed, and he's pretty sure he's never profusely apologised more whilst simultaneously sneezing as his hay-fever reacted to the pollen from flowers his students generously gifted him.
Placing a scarred hand onto the cracked and chipped wood that makes up his desk, he pushes himself up and reaches over to close the billowing gap, the creaky gears of it distressing loudly as it's pulled shut.
Sitting back down, he shakes at the difference in temperature, warmth enveloping his body quickly.
Rubbing his own palm against his neck without the winds to do it, he cracks it refreshingly and finally stops procrastinating his actual work, opening his current notebook labelled
'#41 - Student quirk assessment five.'' and then messily scribbled underneath,
'If found, please return to Izuku Midoriya! Or Sensei.'
He internally facepalms at the fact no one ever had actually called him Sensei, embarrassment slowing flooding his cheeks at the reminiscent.
Shaking it off, whilst physically shaking his shoulders, he leans closer into the desk, his stomach pressing against the edge of it as he lazily leans his elbow on the table, flipping through to find his most recent page.
Once he finally reaches the fresh lined paper after a variety of diagrams, sketches, and paragraphs, he runs a finger down the spine of the paper, flattening it out and grabs a pen from the pot on a shelf near him delicately.
Sighing reluctantly, he rereads his previous entry and continues it,
'Name: Emiko
Hirano.
Quirk: Binoculars.
Quirk description:
Hirano can vision beyond anything, but strictly when she closes her eyes.
She would be useful for hostage situations, able to envision the exact location and potential surroundings of the victim, and she has already shown interest and striving goals towards international travel; she could look around the world, quite literally, and choose the best fights that would further increase her popularity (which she doesn't care about nonetheless), or choose fights where she can step in and save an even bigger amount of people.
Alongside that, she could inform and help other heroes arrive at missions that could suit their individual quirks, therefore she would be an helpful insight to physical jobs and agency jobs.
Her quirk only continues in potential, as her quirk could provide a villain's location when trained correctly, or make certain block points in the way aware to a hero who is going down a tricky route whilst on the way to a mission.'
He begins to write, grip tight on his pen,
'However, she still needs to learn to focus her mind correctly on what exactly she wishes to see.
During training, she often finds herself looking at her bedroom at home, or accidentally faints occasionally.
Throughout a training regime with me, she was able to correctly register her quirk so she could clearly see my fist when she closed her eyes, zooming into it, and was able to accurately guess where it was going to land as she examined the projection and angle of my hand.
It was impressive, her intelligence at the estimation, her studies shining through, but that's to be expected due to her adamant study life and neat work style.
If she continues to watch fights close enough, whether it be wrestling on tv or sparring in class, her power should come leaps and bounds if she continues to accurately predict future moves.
Her quirk comes with many advantages, but every quirk holds an undoubtful disadvantage.
As previously mentioned, if her mind travels too far, beyond 10m, she faints at the strain on her brain.
With some training, I suspect this could be slowly but surely improved if she widens it by a metre everyday, nursing it until her head grows and adapts into the wide space she wants it to be.
Alongside the mental effects and the toll it takes on her, that brief moment where her eyes are closed is heavily crucial to a fight, and if a villain catches her onto her quirk rapidly, they will be expecting the inevitable second use of the power.
During this short time, they could land a blow on her.
Unfortunately, this can't be trained as it all depends on the capacity of the enemy, but with hope; which I have a lot of for her, she may find her own way to beat this problem.
If not, I'll continue working on an eventual solution.
Further ideas:
Of course, widening her range is the prime thing to focus on, but once that is figured, her expanse could potentially be stretched to looking inside machinery's wiring, or a bomb's fuse - once again her quirk links directly to hostage missions.
Although, this idea is for a future time, as I don't want to overwhelm her too much.
I don't want her to be underwhelmed though, still remaining on top of improving, so just whelmed, I guess?
This entry is ending on a sleep deprived note.'
His hand aches and where his index finger meets his palm, there’s a blister formed from the pen his fingertips are currently curled around, and he lets the pen drop loosely out of his grip with relief.
Leaning back on his chair, he tumbles the cascade of green hair over the headrest, his neck resting on the top of the leather.
Stretching his arms above him, he opens up the mountains of exam tests he still needs to mark, and prepares the sheets from yesterday he has to look over.
Safe to say, he goes to sleep at 4am.
Notes:
HI! if u enjoy, lmk and comment :D
stay plus ultra :))
Chapter 9: supermarket
Notes:
HEY! i am so sorry - im getting back into school, im doing martial arts again, and im also continuing on with my after school musical instruments ensemble.
SO, this is kind of late???its actually one of my longer chapters, and im so happy i could fit kaminari and kirishima in this chapter!
a lot of shizzles have been going on, my friend wanted to khs, my sister’s friend commented on her diabetes and one of her friend’s cheated on her gf, her gf tried to khs, and then another friend’s cat died.
im also getting tested for lupus next month, and just so much is HAPPENING.
im okay though, nothings effecting me too bad!!ANYWAYS, you dont have to read that.
just go read the chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The dried drool on his chin is the first thing he notices when he finally wakes up from his dreaded alarm.
The phone's ringing penetrates through the void of his room, which is slightly illuminated by a slip of dim sunlight agape from a tiny gap in his curtains , and the piercing sound courses irritantly through his mind;
Two, very unpleasant awakenings for this weekend - Another score on the tally board.
He sighs internally; grief filling his gut for one sleep-in; He would say he was in deep yearning, desperate for one more inch of sleep, but Iida would probably smack him senseless; telling him to stop being dramatic and to get out into the modern world with sentences and punctuation to teach - or in this case... a supermarket to arrive at.
It's his form of encouragement, Izuku would know.
Scrunching his eyes with a groan, he yawns, a notch cracking in his jaw as the action progresses, and he winces at the sound.
Bringing a hand to rub at his chin and scratch at the dull saliva, he finally greets his eyes to his white, and slightly cracked from the upstairs neighbours, ceiling. Blinking up at it mindlessly, he mentally adjusts his head, trying his best to not sink back into the comfort of his soft and marshmallow-like mattress, preventing slumber from claiming his hazy consciousness once again.
Finally sitting upright, the green-haired boy rubs his eyes and pulls them up to stretch over his head, a divine delight of pleasure running down his spine at the sensation - however, an ache takes place in his shoulder, and he figures he must've slept on it wrong.
His room is tinted a dark purple, the only light being a tiny streak of sunlight running through the window and landing on his back wall, the orange contrasting refreshingly with the cool tones of the dawn - the dawn of which he is awake at, for no reason aside from being a pro-morning person, who doesn't exactly enjoy mornings.
You could just say he was a reverse procrastinator, always eager to do things immediately and get the work done as soon as set, he proclaims in his head, turning his early morning habit into a good thing and ignoring that before last night, he had a huge variety of work-sheets he had to mark.
At least he corrected them all last night, Izuku thinks proudly, promising that he would, from now on, complete further work without any obstacles the night it was received.
With that resolution, his socked feet (he forgot to take off them off with his undoubtful exhaustion yesterday) hits the hardwood of his bedroom.
Despite the universe's collective disapproval to sleeping with socks, he can't help but be happy he wore them as he can feel the cold fumes from the wood almost emulating through his socks, the warm barrier of the fabric managing to stop it just barely; so despite his little twinge of guilt and disgust, he sighs with relief at the contact being grounding, and not a wake-up call.
It definitely would've woke him up instantly if the ice-like wooden boards were the first real piece of matter he felt after such a cumbersome sleep, evident from the earlier drool enzymes on his face, he hums briefly to himself,
throwing on a hoodie to warm himself from the breezy summer morning's un-summer-like weather that is surprisingly nippy to the cheeks.
He can practically already envision the bustling Japanese streets, which are still busy this early, and he practically envision the rosy cheeks and red noses contaminating the roads and crowds of those surrounding him.
Shuffling his feet and sliding slightly due to the smooth friction of fabric against wood, he twists the doorknob of his chipped door and enters the equally un-illuminated living space.
Izuku yawns briefly, ending it with a small sniffle, and he can still the quiet murmurs of Uraraka's light snoring.
To that, he smiles, shaking his head in disbelief, but can't place it in him to disagree, considering it's only just turned seven in the morning.
Izuku almost wishes it was him cuddled up in comfy and cosy blankets.
However, he has to made a vow to refuse any future or present procrastination, and with that promise, comes an eventual start - and it starts now.
Stopping himself from retreating back to his own huddle of pillows subconsciously, he ungracefully picks up his keys from the coffee table; a bit too loud for his liking, and he winces, looking over at the brunette and finding her face contorted up into an ugly blank face of pure peace, and Izuku feels the relief spread from his throat to his fingers.
Adjusting his volume to a quieter pace, he shoves on the first pair of shoes he finds laying around - black and white adidas sambas - and pats down his outfit, checking its appropriate before stepping a foot out the door.
Normal sweatpants: That works.
A simple hoodie: It's called 'simple' hoodie for a reason, it literally has the word 'hoodie' written on it.
Adidas sambas: Considering he just chose to put them on, he'd say they're appropriate.
Overall evaluation: Nice and simple, pretty perfect for a supermarket trip, if Izuku would say so.
Spraying on some quick cologne that was haphazardly placed on a counter, he declares himself ready to trek out into the treacherous streets, and opens his front door.
He is immediately greeted by the wonderful caressing of the wind's hands cradling his cheeks. and finds himself leaning into the invisible touch.
Despite the breeze and harsh gusts, the sun is shining nonetheless, and Izuku's less-pigmented green eyes are lasered down by the sun.
The squinting is unbearable, but it's better than being pierced by the beams and having black spots in your vision for the next hour, so Izuku settles with belittling his eyes against the rays of sun and flushes of wind.
--------------------------------------------
Behind the tall buildings framing the streets, Izuku doesn't have to squint his eyes as much.
Mentally, he cusses people (without actually cussing, of course) who have dark eyes, who are able to withstand the summer days and are able to look at them with their full eyes, with the pigment in their irises serving as a shield.
The building that happens to be his shield this time, is his exact destination, and there lies a grocery store beyond him.
Entering the acrylic and epoxy-resin flooring of the shop, he breathes in the fresh scent of raw vegetables and all-consuming meat, and snips a basket from the entrance- Thankfully, Izuku wasn't planning to be doing a big shopping haul, only collecting a few goodies that he's ran out of, and he's glad at the fact he can be accepted into his humble-abode as quick as he left it.
First, he goes directly to the sweets aisle, piling a load-ton of gummies and skittles in there, not caring exactly about the money it'll cost.
It may not be his dream job, but teaching at UA pays well.
Really well.
He briefly contemplates on why he doesn't buy another apartment, a bigger one, but decides against it as he reminds himself of how local it is to his mother and his friends, and he couldn't live without that balcony and the amazing views it gives, of apartment buildings and... parking lots, alongside... more buildings?
Well, it’s amazing to him.
Anyways, he piles up a mountain in his basket, his arm slightly weighing down as a spike of pain shoots through his aching arm, but he ignores it in favour for the sweets; which will all be eaten by Uraraka, almost undoubtedly.
He can't find it in himself to be bothered though, because he knows absently he mainly buys them for her diabetes anyway.
He'd be lying if he said it also wasn't for Sato or Kaminari to snack on too, though, or Mina, or Sero... or Tsuyu.
Or practically anyone in his class, considering they're all insane and always appreciate a gummy when it's presented - Maybe not Bakugou, Izuku wonders briefly.
Pondering it, he shakes his head after reevualting his decision, thinking about the time Tokoyami had said 'he could eat a lot of sweets in one sitting' as a mere passing comment and Kacchan immediately caught on to the statement and proceeded to challenged him.
…They were drunk that night, so it wasn't surprising that ended in vomit.
With his candies collected, and his thoughts came to a conclusion, he exits the aisle, his feet drag himself absent-mindedly to the vegetable and fruit aisle, the place he found himself in the most as an avid salad lover, whether it be fruit salad or the typical vegetables.
Grabbing the freshest grape box he could find, to the largest pineapple he could manage to burrow into the nest of his basket,
it wasn't a huge surprise when his arm eventually failed on him from the ache and the basket dipped from the nook of his elbow to plummet onto the floor.
Grasping out for it, Izuku stumbles slightly in a sluggish attempt to stop the food from slamming onto the shiny floor, but finds he doesn't need to physically face-plant on the floor to prevent it from touching the ground like a horrible game of 'The floor is lava' , as another hand grabs it by it's handle just a millisecond before Izuku was planning to rugby dive.
Looking up abashedly from his crouching possession, Izuku flushes red at the sight of the mustard-and-ketchup duo looking down at him, grins way too bright for the time of day it was and seemingly not caring for the embarrassing and shameful position Izuku found himself in Infront of them.
Well, it seemed that way, until Kaminari quickly popped his phone out of his pocket, snapping a quick picture, and turning away, whistling an inconspicuous tune.
All the while, the yellow-haired boy shoved both of his hands into his pocket, tapping his foot as though he didn't know exactly what he did.
Springing up from his indecent position, Izuku tenses his shoulders as a flush envelops his face, exclaiming with shock and horror,
''Kaminari!'' Izuku gapes open his mouth, a look of what must be pure embarrassment before the two manly heroes as his words squeak out of him.
Quickly clearing his throat, he adds on,
''Hey, Kirishima.''
''Oh! Midoriya, what're you doing here?'' Kirishima asks with pure intent, ignoring the fact that Kaminari took a picture of the freckled boy, and Izuku is unsure if the red-head is even aware of the devilish antic the boy beside him just committed.
Unfortunately, Izuku is already well aware of the many bad pictures Kaminari keeps in an organised collection labelled 'blackmail' on his computer, so he does nothing to stop this inevitable doom but accept it, and responds,
''Just grocery shopping,' he responds almost automatically, not even realising what he's saying as he zones out slightly, thinking.
With a scrunch to his brows, Izuku asks,
''You guys are up... suspiciously early.'' Izuku asks with concern in his voice, wary of what the duo could be mischievously plotting.
The two just look at each other, a reaction that would appear to be normal, if not for the slight panicked glint in their eyes Izuku can spot, having analysis already deeply etched in his bones.
''Nothing.'' Kirishima responds squeakily like a timid mouse, strictly going against his manly traditional views, and Izuku only gets more and more cautious of whatever the fire duo is flickering to ignite, knowing it'll likely end up ablaze.
The three stare at each other in mutual silence for an uncountable amount of seconds, rising curiosity flaming itself inside of Izuku's chest, but he's prepared to give up and continue on with the small talk, but Kaminari breaks the quietness (which wasn't actually completely silent, due to the background inaudible humming overwhelming the shop), with a sharp inhale.
''We're gonna do a Halloween part-'' is all the black-streaked man can manage to get out before a hand clamps over his leaking mouth, belonging to Kirishima but Izuku got good enough grades to connect the dots, forming the picture.
''Kaminari didn't say anything.'' Kirishima states, his mouth pursing into a thin line as he nods unconvincingly, looking pointedly at the boy next to him.
Kaminari doesn't notice at first, until Kirishima pinches him from the back, unaware Izuku can see, and then the boys also begins nodding, although ten times more vigorously and aggressive than Kirishima.
''Nothing, nada, zilch, zero, zero.'' Kaminari lists, but says the final 'zero' in a horrendous Spanish accent, only adding onto the certainty that Izuku thinks something fishy is going on, the 'fishy' thing in question, supposedly being a Halloween party. In mid-late July.
''A Halloween party, in summer?'' Izuku comments, ignoring the fact he was likely meant to act 'oblivious' but with the curiosity eating away at him, he can't resist prodding further.
''Crap, dude. He heard!'' Kaminari face-palms, sighing, and turning to Kirishima as though the viridian-haired and eyed boy isn't standing directly in their eyesight.
''No shi-'' He starts, but slides his eyes over to Izuku and reassesses whatever was going to sleep out of his mouth, ''shizzles. You quite literally exclaimed it in front of him.''
''Oh okay, Mr big words,'' Kaminari feigns offense, widening his eyes in an attacked manner as though he just took a blow to the stomach, before he proceeds to fake sadness and tears, sniffling slightly as he wipes fake tears,
''Where did my fellow stupid go?'' Kaminari wobbles his bottom lip slightly.
''Dude.'' The spikey haired one deadpans, his own limit weakening slightly as he pinches his brow, not long before a little smile peeps out of Kirishima's lips, thinking to himself how realistically, none of them have changed since adolescence.
''Exclaimed? A big word?'' Izuku comments on the two's interaction, observing and examining with his usual fondness directed towards those he loves, and he can't help but chuckle lightly at the pair.
''Don't even try it, you-you... teacher!'' Kaminari jabs a finger at Izuku's chest accusingly, still sniffling from his fake tears, and his acting is comparable to those specific badly-acted telenovelas that are on late at night.
Who would ever watch those?
Totally not like Izuku hasn't caught himself hooked on watching them. Totally not.
''Mish, mosh, potato, patato,'' Izuku merely rolls his eyes playfully, gnawing at his lip, wondering why everyone has deemed him smart since teacher hood, but ignores it in favour to ask,
''Halloween party? He prods again.
The two just look at each other in defeat, but Kirishima just lets out a little nod in finality and Izuku feels his heart-rate spike at the anticipation.
Kirishima begins to explain,
''Well- It was originally just for my birthday on the sixteenth, but then we remembered Tokoyami's birthday is quite literally a day before Halloween - so Mina-''
''Mina knows?'' Izuku takes it in consideration, but can't find himself surprised as he thinks over all the antics the trio have played childishly throughout the years.
''She's practically orchestrating it. We are, alas, her little minions.'' Kaminari drags out, planting a dramatized hand on his forehead, the true theatre kid popping out of him as he sighs yearnfully.
''Understandable.'' Izuku pops in with the teasing remark, deadpanning it with a pop at the end of the word, whilst shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
''Hey!'' Kaminari protests, and Kirishima shoots both of them a friendly chuckle before waving them off, leading swiftly onto his next statement,
''Anyways, Mina - suggested a party.'' He finishes his previously interrupted statement, and Izuku figures it all checks out, aside from one fact.
''Why hide it?'' Izuku queries further, confused as to why a innocently-presented but inappropriate-party-when-you-were-actually-there was being hidden from his friend group, taking into account that all of them have most definitely partied together, even Koda, who doesn't drink but somehow radiates tipsy and buzzed vibes after a pop of soda.
''It was gonna be a surprise for everyone- like, hey lets all get together!'' Kirishima nods considerably, waving his hands expressively for the latter half of the explanation; as he normally would.
The boy was way too expressive with his hands, but Izuku would be lying if he said he also didn't do over-excessive hand signals.
''Ah, I should've figured!'' Izuku beams, tilting his head to the side and grinning happily,
''I could help plan, if you want? Trust me, I do tons of event-planning with my students.'' He suggests thoughtfully, already mentally checking another thing down on his to-do list.
To that, Kirishima matches his grin and Kaminari does the same out of Izuku's peripheral vision,
''You would be a literal life saver Midobro!'' He exclaims enthuastically, his hands doing a small self-fist bump position; It's his signature pose, and Izuku can deduct that he's become so used to doing it after a win, he's grown into subconsciously doing it when happy.
''Yes, he is quite literally a life-saver.'' Kaminari comments off-handedly, pursing his lips in consideration as he clearly thinks back to those years of hero-work Izuku had done, and the lifes he has in fact physically saved, but also checking it with the current situation - creating an almost two-toned pun that is surprisingly complex compared to Kaminari's usual humour.
Which happens to usually be quoting references or screaming out of the blue.
How he's a hero, Izuku has no idea.
''Indeed, he is, very manly Midoriya,'' Kirishima pumps a fist in the air, holding it with devotion and passion, clenching it slightly as he closes his eyes.
Is that a tear in the corner of his eyes?
'' Very manly.'' He sniffles out with a squeaky voice, appreciation underlining his voice.
Is he really crying?!
Unsure of how to respond, Izuku just ends up chuckling out awkwardly,
''I try!'' He tries to match Kirishima's positive energy, also pumping his fist in the air and holding it there for a solid second, and shoving it back into his pocket where it's nice and warm.
''Okay, well we should get going...'' Kaminari starts, silently pinching Kirishima's cheek without a word to snap him out of it, to which the lava-haired man quickly shakes his head out of his manly daze, and Izuku prepares himself for a 'but' in the sentence, which is inevitably coming.
Bracing himself for what the duo is going to come out with for the second time today, Izuku quirks an eyebrow up.
''But,'' Kirishima speaks again, seemingly completely out of whatever trance he had found himself in, and he pops his index finger up in thought, rocking back and forth on his heels,
''We have another thing to ask you about!'' He sing-songs, smirking smugly towards Kaminari who is also side-eyeing Kirishima with the same mischievous glint in his eyes.
''Yes...?'' Izuku asks warily, leaning slightly away from the pair in case they've planned a spontaneous squirrel attack...
that wouldn't really be considered spontaneous at all if they had planned it.
''We heard- you know! From a little birdy, or through the grape vine or whatever - '' Kaminari starts off suspiciously constantly, nodding his head along with each word,
''That you were with Bakugou... approximately... two days ago?'' The electric boy shrugs, and Izuku somehow isn't taken aback, fully aware of what had likely happened.
''Uraraka told you?'' He deadpans simply, fully aware of the girl's gossiping habits and how it likely spread from Tsuyu - to Momo - to Jirou - to Hagakure - To Mina - To Kirishima, and finally barrelled into Kaminari hearing it, so Izuku can already assume he won't hear the end of this.
'' Nooooo! What? I mean- pfft. Why would she- hah!'' Kaminari acts oblivious laughing whole-heartedly but increasingly faker as it slowly fades out into an awkward little giggle. Izuku merely quirks an eyebrow again.
Kaminari eventually finishes it in a deflated sigh, pouting sadly and waves it off dismissably,
''Fine,” he huffs, “the little birdy's name may have begun with U...'' He says, but perks up when he finishes the statement with wide eyes,
''Don't tell her, please!'' He clasps his hands into a praying position and ducks beneath his arms, Kirishima beside him taking the same position as they vigoursly shake their hands, pleading.
''I should've known better.'' Izuku chuckles at the thought of the brunette girl, and Kirishima and Kaminari both arise from their crouch with cautious and careful movements, a look of relief on their face as Izuku doesn't threaten them, compared to what they're likely used to from Katsuki.
''Anyways, do you have a crush on Kacchan?''
''Kaminari!''
''What type of high school things do you believe in bro, They're in love!''
''Kirishima!''
Notes:
HEY!!! thanks for reading.
if u made it this far, please comment! :D
Chapter 10: forever
Notes:
THIS IS SO SO SO LATE.
so sorry! D:it's my break, so i've been doing a loooot of things!!!
sleepovers, firework shows, movie-watching, and one-shot writing, you name it, i've done it - the joys of living in london and loving it!!!nonetheless, i've finally got round to chapter 10 of this after two oneshots for flufftober (how people do one for each day amazes me, seriously!!!), so if ur into bkdk, which im assuming u are, check them out!! :DDD
no kats in this chapter, but he is very much MENTIONED.
mina, jirou and some of the girlies will be in next chapter.no idea how i stretched out uraraka and izuku's interaction to be 3000 words long, but it happened and im ... sorta here for it!!!
ANYWAYS. GO READ! :))
leave a comment if u enjoyed, its the fuel to my motivation.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time he escapes the doomful, enticingly encaging atmosphere the ketchup and mustard duo typically provide, Izuku finds himself yawning even heavier as to beforehand - the tiredness knocking in prominently and his jaw cracking down a notch with each gape.
Nonetheless, his walk back to his apartment (which was only about two or so minutes away) was full of useless symphonies and cacophonies surrounding his eardrums fading out into nothing, his mind set fiercely on reaching his humble-abode and eating.
His stomach practically rumbles at the thought as his mouth fills with pools of salivation.
Last night, with the indubitably tedious task of his career, Izuku was unable to munch on even a small, teensy-weensy snack - let alone fill his only growing appetite.
He briefly ponders on how he's remained this muscular throughout his eight years of teaching, considering his job now consisted of teaching the little rascals priorly written subjects and supervising their training.
Then, because how could he forget, the viridescent man remembers the uncountable amount of times Todoroki made him accompany the half and hot boy to the gym; Iida typically in tow; and at times, when feeling particularly motivated, Sero.
Perhaps it's better, anyway. The gym clears his mind - makes all the thoughts from his years at UA vanish, and whilst the green haired adult usually looks for escape in books or flees reality in movies, the ache of his muscles was always a welcome distraction.
Izuku goes to rub his neck, attempting to reduce the sudden spike of pain in it from where he likely slept weirdly, but his elbow promptly bangs into something ahead of him.
The viridian man blankly blinks, finally lifting his head from where it was firmly darted towards the concrete floor, and finds a wave full of turquoise and a number plate overflow his vision.
Seriously?
It's happened once, and maybe twice - Okay, maybe it's been a bad habit for the majority of Izuku's life throughout childhood, adolescence (and now reaching into his adulthood), - but he thought it would've stopped once he became conscious of it.
Truthfully, Izuku had lost himself in his mind once again, the thoughts spewing out of him like blood shoots out a slit neck
- and for a moment, he ponders if he happened to mutter incoherently whilst on his merry-way too -
nonetheless, he had managed to ramble in his mind and potentially out loud all the way till his destination.
He sighs, disappointed with his lack of resolutions, slowly turning the knob of his apartment door directly opposite his freckled nose,
freckled nose; like Kacchan.
Huh? Kacchan? Where did that even... Izuku, What?! Whatever! Izuku stops himself before he actually spontaneously combusts and blushes simultaneously.
Back to his original thought, he notes and etches it mentally into his brain wrinkles for what feels like the millionth time to actually take his surroundings into account before he gets brutally robbed or accused of being crazy; which he's not far from - Izuku scoffs aloud.
Those one for all users must've implemented some form of messed up schizophrenic condition in his brain - always saying these randoms things recently; Izuku sneers mentally, but it soon turns to an audible huff as he finally greets himself to his apartment.
The dark, dim blue tint that he had left his living room in has evaporated, the sunshine of the open window now accompanying the illuminance of his yellow lamp.
Izuku kicks off his samba, coming off easily due to the many years he's worn them out to be perfectly adjusted and accustomed to his feet, and places them dutifully on their designated spot on his shoe rack - just beside his trustworthy red ones.
Making his way through the compact corridor that opens up his flat, Izuku hears the delicate humming of the brunette bobbed girl inhabiting his place, and smiles fondly at the gorgeous sound that's emitting from the girls throat; much nicer than the hustle and bustle of Japan's notorious livelihood.
Uraraka, still in the same comfy clothes from the day before, is sitting atop of Izuku's balcony railing, her chocolate strands floating and being caressed gently by the wind as though her quirk was lifting them.
Placing his grocery bags down onto his counter through his arched kitchen window, the teacher slides his socked feet against the hardwood panels of his polished floor, gripping onto the balcony door frame and leaning out of it slightly.
''You're awake, sleepyhead.'' Izuku teases, a grin overtaking his cheeks as he picks at the drywall that makes up the outside of his building's complex.
Uraraka merely rolls her eyes playfully, hopping down from the edge of the railing without a care in the world - after all, she could just levitate if she so happened to swing down the other way - but her padded feet find the floor gracefully, strolling her way to the interior of the home.
''Firstly, it's pretty early - 9am is the normal; for normal people -'' She stretches over her head, sticking a singular finger up as she lists the first of what appears to be multiple points,
''Cough, cough; unlike you.'' Ochaco audibly speaks the onomatopoeia, and side eyes Izuku, quirking up an eyebrow.
''Oh please, do tell your second point rather than unmercilessly spitting out malicious insults.'' Izuku speaks whilst manoeuvring his way around his half wall, reaching inside of his shopping bags to unpack them into his several cabinets.
''Stop these big words, the anti-gravity seriously has an effect on my braincells-'' Uraraka aimlessly follows after him, leaning against the marble counters and feeling the handle of the drawer dig into her hip bone dimly.
''Not big words, and you should really get that checked out...'' Izuku reaches into the first plastic bag, not making eye contact but a face of pure concern plastering his facial features at the girl's seemingly dumber state; he's not too concerned, however, as the girl seems to be holding herself pretty well - At least she's not close to the brink of death as she's been before - Izuku shudders.
''- and fine - second point, if you so desire it...'' Uraraka leans her arms behind her onto the counter surface, her waist popping out and the soft fabric of her t-shirt riding up,
''... Secondly, Ya girl,'' She makes a gesture to her whole torso, ''is tired.”
The hero drags out the final word, knocking her head back against the cabinet which Izuku promptly shoos away to open said cabinet, placing a pack of biscuits in there.
Scooting around the girl's thin frame, Izuku bundles all the packets of gummies in his arms, Uraraka plucking one out of the pile, and places them inside of the brunette's diabetic cabinet, mountaining them up to the size of the Himalayas.
''I should probably check my levels, actually, I had a few hypos last night.'' The brunette girl comes to realisation, moving from her spot to hastily unhook her purse from where she hung it at some point last night.
''Oh did you?'' Izuku hums, not moving from his place but leaning over the counter to peer at her figure from the hollowed area, and thinks considerately for a moment.
''Makes sense.'' He adds on silently, pondering to himself but the girl latches onto it.
''Hm? What does?'' She looks up finally from her rummaging, her pod in her delicate fingertips as she twists to hook her bag once again, her body twisting awkwardly as she adamantly maintains eye contact with Izuku.
''Why you were snoring last night - or, more accurately, when I woke up in the morning.'' The pistachio haired man snorts, thinking back on the memory that only happened about an hour ago - cause it was weird how time moved lately... - and tilting his head tauntingly at the sight of the girl's offended face.
She gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her breasts over the position of her heart, the sound of the pod smacking the fabric of her shirt audible in the un-noise-polluted room,
''How dare thou accuse thy of such a thing?'' She shakes her head disappointedly, moving her hand from her chest to balance above her bicep; the place where her pod was most recently intertwined into.
''Augh- the Shakespearean language; it blinds me!'' Izuku matches her unseriousness, feigning pain as he puts a crinkled hand atop his forehead, swaying slightly.
''Hm, my ketone levels are stable... - Why doth thou be so ailed by such a speech?'' Uraraka originally comments on reality , but fades back into their charade unmistakeningly- taking slow, dramatic steps with her heels dragged behind her towards the the opposite side of the counter.
''I get too much of it in school, trust me. 'Thou' this and 'Thy' that.'' Izuku rolls his eyes, propping an elbow up onto the counter and smushing his cheek against it; his stomach almost churns.
''Doth thou nay enjoy thy education?'' Uraraka prods further, leaning even closer into Izuku proximity, narrowing her golden brown eyes into thin little slits of teasing.
''I don't understand why they don't just translate it to English!'' The agitated teacher flailing his hands into the air with unrelented irritation, backing away and pacing around with thought,
'' I mean, Shakespeare is an awesome guy... and I've read his plays a bunch - but now its... a bunch and I don't know how much longer I can tell a kid the connotations of 'Et tu, Brute?''
The boy practically pulls his hair out with the internal conflict in his mind, the interior debates continuously pilling up to now spill out of the funnel.
''Colour me riddled, dude.'' The brunette shrugs, chewing on her thumbnail and directing her eyes to the ceiling in ponderance and finally quitting her long train of speech - mainly because she was struggling to come up with fresh terms each time.
''Finally, thy Shakespearean hath ceased.'' Izuku sighs out of relief initially, but gasps in shock, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth as his brain catches up to his words; the contradiction shocking himself and prompting an exuberant laugh out of the brunette as her face lights up with pure vibrance.
''Shoot- You've infected me!'' Izuku pauses his pacing and spins to face his body directly to the woman, pointing an accusing finger at her and squinting her eyes alongside the motion.
''Shakespeare is just so contagious, I suppose.'' The euphoria is still evident on Uraraka's face out of the coincidence, the fondness and amusement coating her silhouette the way icing decorates a cake.
''My students would agree with you there.'' Izuku scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to rest his weight on one of his counters, which will likely be indented by next month from the amount of masses being laid atop of them, and he smirks smugly.
''Colour me curious?'' Uraraka makes her way around the partition to join him once again, both finding themselves in the original area they had began this conversation in, but now on opposite sides of the small room, Uraraka to the direction of the balcony and Izuku's back to the wall that acts as a barrier between him and the grumpy old lady who lives beside him.
''Do you know the amount of times they recite broken soliloquys to me?'' The lincoln-green haired man feels a shudder replay it's way up and down his bone structure, the memories of the overuse of the word 'Doth' flooding into his mind in multiple of his student's voices.
''God, I love these kids more and more by the second.'' Uraraka sticks her tongue out defiantly, it barely peeping outside of her plump lips but the merriment she typically wears clothing her face like a casual outfit.
''Pfft- they're alright.'' Izuku waves off with a little uptilt to his smile which he hopes he's hiding pretty well, but the evident look on the other woman's face of pure disbelief tells him he's unsuccessful.
Welp, one can try.
Determination is pretty much his thing, anyway.
''You talk of them as if they're your physical children - Quit the nonchalance.'' Uraraka reaches her socks against the empty expanse of the kitchen, poking Izuku's stomach with her toes all the whilst bent in an inhumane stretch for her foot to reach.
''Talk about Shakespeare infecting me, I think Shoto has; that darn nonchalant and laidback attitude.'' Izuku pinches his brow, laughing lightly, a full on beam over placing his attempt at a firm composure.
''It's crazy though - you think the guy is calm at surface level, but once you dig deep, he's just a more reserved Bakugou.'' Uraraka chews the inside of her gum thoughtfully, tapping a gentle finger in a relaxed pattern on her peachy clear skin,
''Kudos to that analysis.'' The green haired boy hums approvingly, a small lift to his eyebrows in surprise, ''Want to take my place as an English teacher?'' He waggles his eyebrows temptingly.
''Yeah... I think I'm alright-'' She winces at the suggestion, moving that hand from her to chin to her temple to tap at an even more rapid speed,
''- Told you; Braincells!''
Izuku rolls his eyes, walking to the other end of the kitchen to push the brunette bobbed hair girl out of the half-room's tiles and smirks all the whilst doing it.
''Out you go, Breakfast is demanding to be served.''
Izuku shoves her little by little, shrugging nonchalantly and sending glances around to the majority of his shelves and cabinets and briefly dissecting what might be in each one, debating on what to serve.
''Oh, and the food told you that directly?'' Uraraka skids her heels against the polished floor, sliding more than anything, and turns her head round to deadpan to the green-haired boy.
Izuku cringes at the brown strands that hit his face from her whipping of face, but easily retorts on instinct,
''Yes, infact, I can hear their little miniature high-pitched screams right at this moment.
''And what are they saying?'' Uraraka has finally been trudged outside of the partitioned area, but has chosen to stand outside of it with her arms crossed above her chest area, weight leaned on a singular leg and a pitiful attempt at a pout, rudely dismissed by the hint of a sly smirk escaping.
''Cook me! - Eat me! - Boil me! - Cut me!-'' The freckled face expresses in high-pitched voices, waving his hands with emotion for each exclamation and changing his features accordingly,
''- All that jazz, you know?'' Izuku explains it as though he's telling the god's-honest truth, and it was almost a little *too* believable despite the clear over exaggeration.
''Ah, so the normal dialogue that was typically found in the UA dorms?'' Uraraka ponders, walking around to sit on the back of Izuku's turquoise couch, and sits down with a huff and grunt.
''You... could word it like that... Sure, yeah - UA dorms galore'' Izuku hesitates at the weird comparison, but as the thought slowly turns through the cogs in his brain, the more and more it seems to make endless sense -
Another perfect analysis from the peachy faced girl.
''What fascinating little creatures.'' She yawns briefly, proceeding to flop over backwards onto the soft material of the sofa, her legs hanging idly in the air momentarily but not for long as she hastily swings them over to lay down across the fabric.
''The food or our past classmates?'' Izuku revels at the simple banter in their daily interaction - Afterall, teasingly commenting to everything his friends say was his forte.
''Bit of both!'' Uraraka exclaims from the couch, not turning her head around, but leaning forward to clasp onto the remote on the stained coffee-table.
''Oh- gosh-'' Izuku fake winces, cupping a hand over his ear theatrically despite the brunette being turned away,
''They're screeching at me now. Bye, bye now.''
In response, the floating head from the back of the couch reveals a hand from the void of fabric, Uraraka waving dismissably as the other unseen hand clicks rapidly through channels - landing on a documentary of...
Kacchan.
Izuku's mouth drops, the familiar blonde hair from two days ago picking up all the pixels on his television's screen, and he flashes his viridian eyes to squint dangerously at the pair of brown eyes already watching him mischievously.
''Ochaco.'' Izuku says, sickly sweet with a sadistic grin latching onto it, ''I have kitchen knifes right next to me.'' He gestures with a scarred hand, smoothly as ever.
''You are the nicest thing ever since bubble baths - I am not intimidated by you.'' Uraraka scoffs, leaning so her arm is rested on the back of the sofa, placing her delicate chin onto her rested elbow whilst raising her eyebrows flashily.
''I never said you should be scared of me, I mean - Why would I be? Tell me.'' Izuku reaches up to the cabinet his mind finally decided on, opening it swiftly and popping his head out to beam widely at Uraraka from beyond the wooden cabinet door blocking his way.
''You're right, I actually don't know, why are you sending me death glares right now?'' Uraraka gasps, lifting her head up as she tilts it thoughtfully, an all-knowing face scrunching up onto her gentle features.
''I am not!'' Izuku exclaims a little bit too defensively, inwardly cringing as a blush overflows his blood circulation,
''Not.'' He mutters mainly to himself, gulping with hesitance.
''Match your face to your words.'' Uraraka points accusingly, finally letting out that smirk she had been holding in, and turning back to the screen, curling up to watch the show.
''Ochaco!'' Izuku gives up on denying, and settles for whining.
''Why are you so flustered? It's just Bakugo!'' The brunette giggles, tilting her head back so it's upside down but just enough that her eyes can be seen by the opposing green ones a metre away.
''I-'' Izuku stops himself, moving his head from looking at the taunting soup eyes of his best friend, and staring blankly ahead of him at the welcoming ingredients of his cupboard as thoughts swarmed his mind.
Why was he so flustered?
It was just Kacchan.
Just Kacchan.
Definitely just Kacchan.
...
Who was he kidding? Katsuki wasn't a just!
He was an... all? Nope, That's not right.
He was a... need?
A necessity?
A fundamental part of life? Of living?
Izuku grumbled internally, biting his lip grumpily outwardly-
None of those were right!
Katsuki was a fundamental part of life?
Tch - That's like saying breathing was a fundamental part of life, when in reality, it was everything.
And truthfully, Izuku would rather never breathe again, would rather lose everything and feel nothing,
than lose the complex mystery of Katsuki Bakugo.
Katsuki was more than an everything, and even though
Izuku couldn't put a name to it right now,
couldn't even begin to speak the syllables of the extent he felt,
he knew it was there, in the same way he knew his lungs were hacking off to turn his Oxygen into Carbon dioxide.
It was everything, the infinite cycle of forever.
''-Forever!'' Izuku blinks harshly, snapping out of his gaze, and faintly hears that final word exit from the girl on his couch's mouth.
''Huh?'' The green haired boy finds himself feeling stupidly dumb, finally making the move to grab the pancake mix out of the interior shelf of his cabinet, closing it to look at Uraraka who is only staring with amused concern.
''You've been mumbling forever.'' She laughs delicately, the pure sound of vibrancy emitting from her lips, but she merely rolls her eyes with happiness and turns back round - Understandable, considering Izuku's muttering was a form of normalcy, since, well...
Forever.
Notes:
HEY! THANKS FOR READING?
one again - this is late. so laaaate.
but nonetheless, eat, drink, sleep, take meds, take care of YOU; i know i love comments, but do all that *before* commenting, please?
push through, if you're going through something, and i know im a stranger on the internet, but i love you; someone loves you.
stay safe all, stayed tuned, too! and finally,
stay plus ultra <333
Chapter 11: explosion
Notes:
HI.
this is late, again.i really need a schedule aha!!!
anyways, ive been doing a looot recently.
martial arts, steel pans, writing programme and sea cadets.. which basically takes up everyday of the week other than weekends, which is where i spend my beautiful beautiful free time watching shows.so, long story short, writing is hard to do whilst multitasking and watching arcane.
CAUSE ARCANE. S2. MY GOD. dont watch the last episode.
dont. do. it.ANDDDD.. on top that - yo girl started grey’s anatomy!!!!!! its.. strangely addicting. i love alex, he’s growing on me SO MUCH. silly guy. dickhead- but silly guy.
not to mention my READING, cause ive been reading physical AND digital. what can i say? im productive.
anyways, im writing this and my phone is starting to lag; so thats a sign its too much.
ENJOY!!!!
katsuki appears… but not physically! mauahahahahah!
OH AND, long chapter. my chapters are usually 3k words, this is 5k!
think of it as an apology for my tardiness.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Normalcy, was exactly the perfect word to explain the content feeling enveloping Izuku's gut as he sits splendidly, tucked inwardly by his crappy old sofa, watching the same exact Dynamight documentary that he had previously threatened and scolded Uraraka for.
It was for pure educational purposes!
At least, that was what he repeatedly told himself, the voice in his head managing to shout at him after a second too long staring at Katsuki's muscles - almost bursting his cranium with the amount of intensity his eyes were widening and he's pretty sure his optic nerves have thinned from the motion.
After all, what was he meant to do whilst eating pancakes on a warm Sunday morning?
- Scroll on his phone?
- - Eat in silence?
- - - Talk with the brunette next to him!?
They were all... completely and utterly... regular ideas?
... Oh wow. What on earth was his life coming to?
Those all actually sounded like pretty plausible ideas... and instead he chooses to stare at the skin of Katsuki Bakugo that he's not touched in ages? He really need to fix that issue; not his decision making skills - Izuku had always lack in that department - but the fact he hasn't seen Katsuki's magnificent features physically in front of him in a century! Okay, two days.
If anything, it felt like a millennium.
For a split second, Izuku debates on the topic on how he's survived this long for eight whole years without constant contact with from the blond?
He means, second year was a close call but they lived in dorms together! Those eight years were a different story…
Then again, he also ponders on why the wave of guttural emotions and rash flushes are hitting him now? Was it due to the prolonged hangout on Friday evening?
Or were his hidden-away feelings, the same disastrous monsters that've been locked since his second year at UA, were they finally denting the vault they were secured in?
At the time of his blooming and admittedly crush, the viridescent teen had convinced himself it was a momentary struggle and that he was merely affection-starved post war and that the initial panic of Katsuki's never-spoken-about-death had caused an irritational fondness to illuminate in his chest cavity.
Izuku was sure it would die down, but
It only sprung back to life when the red-eyed enigma was confiscating his presence, with a simple brush or touch, and his heart always skipped a beat when magma-ridden irises flickered to him with a fixation he couldn't quite place.
In a crude and likely disrespectful way, Izuku felt like his heart had, too, exploded in turn with Katsuki's when he saw his limp body caught in the thunderous crossfire; the pair had been interlinked long before they knew it. They still might not know it.
If the teacher knows one things, it's that his heart had crumbled to pieces in a figurative sense, breaking slowly as his ragged breath was the only thing to populate his eardrums, opposing with a sickening parallel to Katsuki's literal sense of breaking, dying, being killed, and living for the last minute of what he thought would be his last breath.
Perhaps, the teacher would never admit it aloud.
Edgeshot dutifully saved Bakugo in a fit of heroic justice, and for that the viridian-eyed man would be eternally grateful, but Izuku knew that he had been timidly ecstatic with the sacrifice, mourning Edgeshot all the whilst but so, so grateful to hear the drawling voice of Katsuki on his hospital bed.
Even if the boy looked stupid with his blonde hair poking out of his bandages.
And this part, the part kept hidden to only himself, the teacher knew he could never admit aloud.
His mind had erupted along with the revival of Katsuki, that spring of life empowering him like a summer-sun, his pulse intertwining with the now thumping one of Katsuki's.
That pulse still goes on today, and as long as it's there;
Izuku doesn't know when his own lifeline will quit bending itself around the veins of stardust keeping Katsuki alive like a machine, their connection a double-helix and sticking the two together like glue.
What was there, would be.
Izuku bit his lip in worry, but like a pro-deflector, he nonetheless shrugged it off inwardly and physically; pushing it to the dark, deep crevices of his brain despite his inner monologue screaming at him,
he knew he was secretly enjoying this option more than any of the other ones; it could shriek his head off, for all he cared.
The last of his sweet syrup escaped down his throat with a singular gulp, the sticky half-liquid sliding smoothly down his oesophagus as he reaches down with his left hand; finding no more pancakes left on his plate.
Izuku sighs with a slight grunt, a pout overcoming his face subconsciously at the lack of the delicious pastry, but takes a quick glance towards the bobbed hair hero and finding her belly bloated and plate, perusual, void of the 3D circles and crumbs the only thing remaining.
So, leaving the comfortability of the sofa his butt has definitely left an imprint on, the viridescent man picks up his plate from his lap and Uraraka's from where she left it;
sprawled in her hand by the side of her torso as her other hand cups a delicate grip over her expanded belly.
She mutters out a gentle giving of thanks, groaning after it and Izuku only finds it in himself to roll his eyes in amusement.
All due to the fact he also finds himself too full of food to return the half-reply, but Izuku proceeds on his journey, making his way to the sink.
His scarred hand plops the porcelain in the metal hole, walking away but pausing for a minute to debate on if he should clean them right now, however the green haired boy with even greener eyes guiltily decides on leaving them for a... later date. He is not a procrastinator, might he add.
Izuku was about to throw himself back down onto the cushiony cloud of addiction ; the impending doom of an alluring comfortable couch - however, a 'Ding dong' takes him out of his predetermined course of movement and he looks at Uraraka, locking eyes and scrunching his face up in confusion, in unison with her.
Her golden brown eyes look just as alarmed as he is, and Izuku darts his head back and forth, from the door to the girl - conveying the message:
'Do you know if someone is coming over?'
To which she responds with alarm, shaking her head vigorously and holding her hands out in confusion, to gesture:
'No!-'
She then points her index at Izuku,
'-Do you?'
The viridian bop of hair on Izuku's head bounces along as he shakes his head with even more intensity than the girl's short strands a moment before,
'No!'
Then his face changes from concern to a small sneer,
'Why would I be asking you if I knew?'
Uraraka scrunches her face up in a way to contort it into a mocking expression, popping up her middle finger beside her face with a bit too much exaggeration,
'Shut up!'
Then, she moves the columns of skin attaching to her palm so she's popping up her pointer finger, rather than the crude one she had previously lifted up maliciously, first gesturing to herself then moving that same finger to Izuku:
'Are you getting it or me?'
Izuku points his scarred index fingertip to himself, moving away from his fateful couch, and almost stumbling over his lamp in the process - catching it skilfully before it crashes to the floor. He wipes a bead of sweat down his forehead, darting his head to glance back at Uraraka's who's focusing on some sort of pillow concoction.
Timidly approaching the throbbing door, the metal handle of it almost radiating with anticipation, the green haired man takes a stray umbrella from his rack and preps it up in pure pre-preparation; the brim of it resting atop his shoulder.
Clenching his two hands around the rain-shield and adjusting his grip all the whilst, Izuku winces as he inwardly cringes - his hand slowly approaching it's impending doom.
Holding up his non-occupied hand, he counts down with his fingers dramatically, the tension filling the room like a spoon dipping into soup and Izuku isn't sure if it's going to taste rancid or like heaven-on-earth -
Like the way Katsuki makes it.
...
Oh my All Might.
Okay- This is getting ridiculous. It's almost like someone is implementing these thoughts in his mind - like they're writing them on a computer and programming it into his brain's coding.
Katsuki shouldn't have even been able to weave his way into those thoughts.
Although, at this point - Izuku can only sigh defeatedly in his head at the crimson eyes that flash through his mind so much his brain must be
blushing red from the thoughts.
Crimson
red
like Katsuki's mesmerising, memorable eyes, of course,
but in addition,
Scarlet
red
like the slight blush that envelopes lightly under Katsuki's waterline; the blush that the blonde thinks no one can see if it's subtle enough,
not to mention his favourite little feature of Kacchan that no one else has seemed to be paying attention to,
The cherry
red
that colours the tip of his ears when he's embarrassed and or proven wrong -
that one, Izuku enjoyed teasing out of him.
A loud bang on the door knocks him out of his daydreaming, and he jolts at the noise emitting from right beside his ear. Darting his head to look at Uraraka, she's perched on the couch in a squat, holding up all four of Izuku's sofa-pillows with her quirk and hands raised as if to send them pelting for whoever crashes in.
With a huge swing of his arm, the door comes closing inwardly, the open space from his doorway expanding as it opens fully.
Although his eyes were scrunched shut, he could tell whoever it was, wasn't a threat as the several thuddings of the Uraraka's cushions came crashing in tow with the large reveal.
Peeping one green eye open, Izuku is promptly greeted by waves of incoming pink, like the ocean when a summer sunset reflects off of it - and the tide soon engulfs him in a very tight hug.
''Midoriya!'' Mina exclaims, extending the last syllable with a friendly pout as she wraps her arms around him roughly and sways him to the rhythm of suffocation,
''Where have you been, you little- little... munchkin!?'' The girl with eyes of void pulls away with a blinding grin, pinching his cheek between her index finger and thumb and rubbing it with a bit too much pizazz than necessarily needed.
''Mina- Good to see you too!'' Izuku smiles back with as much warmth one can muster underneath such a fierce claw grab - tentatively wrapping his hand over her small wrist, removing the powerful grip she held with as much obliviousness a blobfish in the ocean has.
''I've been... well at UA.'' He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with a slight pink blush rushing to his cheek out of instinct.
''I'm sorry I haven't been visiting, dude. A hero's work is stress-ful!”
Mina whines, hanging her head back with complaints and slumping towards the doorway's hinge with a sigh through her nostrils.
Then, she reaches one of her arms up to sincerely pat Izuku's shoulder as though it's an apology of sorts, and only then is he made aware of his umbrella he's still clutching, it's head laying on the opposite side of his head.
Setting it haphazardly down on the rack with a miniscule smile, he merely shakes his head at the apology and brushes the hand off his shoulder politely in a way to gesture without speaking,
'You can speak about hero-work around me.'
The girl's pitiful gaze only becomes increasingly more apparent with her feeble smile she shares with the teacher.
It's a stark contrast to the usually blinding beams coming from the permanently blushing woman, but it's intimacy set down a new place in his heart for that very moment.
Speaking verbally, he shrugs it off as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels awkwardly,
''It's no biggie, seriously. I watch the hero news enough to know about your schedules.'' Izuku smirks and gestures to the TV behind, and moving the thumb to jab in the direction of Ochaco,
''Plus, I hear enough whining from Uravity, trust me. It almost feels like I’m the hero.''
The simultaneous reaction of a vibrant laugh from the bubble-gum-hero and an offended ''Hey!'' from the space-hero echo through his cramped apartment, bouncing off of his plastered and cracked walls, and the viridescent man turns round to poke his tongue out teasingly towards the bobbed-haired brunette -
turning back to Mina with a devilish grin as he mouths,
''Three, two, one...''
A large 'THUD' trails after the counting, and a groan of pain trails after that as Izuku nods his head in certainty, and satisfied after rightfully predicting the events - Which go as followed:
- Uraraka looks around brazenly for something to toss at the 'unaware' and 'oblivious' teacher behind his back after such a mean comment. She doesn't complain that much! Maybe like, every five minutes?
- The corner of a cushion pokes her wrist as she pats down the sofa for a murder weapon, and her eyes gleam with undoubtful hope at the amazing opportunity ahead of her.
- The girl yanks the pillow, no idea that she was actually crouching on that pillow as her base, and she rips the rug right underneath her feet, or, rips the cushion from under her feet.
- And therefore, she tussles to the side, falling on the floor with a harsh impact.
Mina's eyes gleam with humour, her amusement not even trying to be hidden as she stares beyond Izuku, watching the image behind her with a muffled chuckle.
Bending his torso so he can, too, laugh at the scene, he's promptly greeted by a contorted figure on his rug and he can't help but let a chuckle slip out at the bizarre sight the scene provides.
Uraraka's reflexes seem to be perfectly intact, as the mess of limbs called her 'legs' are kicked up with a fluidity, and in that moment you can clearly tell the amount of training throughout her career. With the smooth motion she stands up on her feet without as much as even breaking a sweat, dusting one or two dust particle off of her left shoulder with a scowl that holds no real malice graces her deer-like features.
At the sneer on her face, Mina and Izuku's yellow and green eyes form a blue hue as they merge together, sharing a moment of endearment for the girl behind them, laughing at her antics silently with the gleams of their irises.
In an identical way as the boy earlier, the fluffy-haired woman lifts up her three fingers, counting down and lowering each finger with each number - blatantly referencing Izuku's actions and he quirks one eyebrow at what she's counting down to, but can't help the curiosity fill his gut.
When the final finger folds down, a car horn beeps outside of his balcony - Izuku makes a mental note to have his daily people-watching routine followed when his apartment is left in tranquillity - and the viridescent man practically jumps out of his skin from the sudden vibration.
He faintly hears Uraraka yelp behind her, and then her padded footsteps rushing out to the railing. Confusion only building, Izuku turns around to see the brunette joyfully waving down to whoever may be outside, almost falling over the balcony with her obvious excitement as when stands on the very tips of her toes.
Facing back round to Mina, he props his eyebrow up even higher, and she simply states three words,
''Jirou and Tsuyu.'' The cherry-blossom girl explains with a gentle smile, rolling her eyes tenderly as she peeks round Izuku's frame to see Uraraka acting like a puppy when their owner returns home - even if the girls had last had a meetup only a week ago.
''Oh, figures. Where you going?'' Izuku hums with consideration, approving the message in his mind as he replays how much sense it makes all considering the girl's in their class have always been peas in a pod the same way the boys have.
''Well, Jirou is taking us to a music museum that she's been wanting to go to for ages-'' She begins listing off, eyes tilting to the top of her head as she ponders their schedule.
''Oh! The... Gosh, what's it called? The 'All music' museum? The one with the word-play on All might? That's such a smart name.'' Izuku exclaims, eyes perking up at the mention of All might from his own mouth, and his smile radiates warmth across the room like a sunray from his excitement. A hint of admiration is bleeding through his tone, but he does nothing to stop it at the stroke of genius of 'All music.'
Who makes that, and doesn't get an award?!
''Yes! Do you know that because she told you or your fanboy habits?'' Mina responds as happily as he did, even if he interrupted, and she asks the question with a hint of mock judgement, with no real dislike framing her voice but instead a strange sort of penchant from the boy's brain that stores everything All-might related, 24/7.
''Bit of both.'' He giggles nervously, and he has the sense to form a sheepish expression at the admission.
''Never change, Mido! I love your fanboy abilities.'' Mina flashes him a blinding grin, sticking a thumb up simultaneously with a slip of her pink tongue poking out.
''Anyways, then Tsuyu is taking us to her voluntary frog-helping committee to feed some of the little ribbits, I got us all tickets for a premium summer marketplace, and Uraraka is tagging along.'' She rambles, finishing off lamely with a laugh at the girl who is totally oblivious to their conversation, still shouting down to the people outside and totally distracted.
''Once a freeloader, always a freeloader.'' Izuku shrugs, shaking his head whilst feigning disapproval with pursed lips but failing miserably as a smirk peeks out from the corner of his lips.
''Ya got that right!'' The girl boisterously cackles, punching a faint hit against Izuku's arm... that actually kinda hurt. The girl had muscle, after all.
Uraraka finally joins their conversation at the doorstep, grabbing her handbag from a hook and rummaging through it to check for her diabetic kit - all the whilst Mina sighs exasperatedly with a soft smile.
''Ready to go, loser? Said hi to Jirou and Tsuyu?'' She drawls out teasingly, sarcasm dripping shamelessly from the words but Uraraka doesn't seem affected by it, likely accustomed to it and she finishes her double-checking with a zip on her bag and a secure pat for safe measures.
''Just Tsuyu actually.'' The brunette shrugs, popping her bottom lip out in wonder and making it obvious she knows something the other two don't, but keeping her lips sealed other than those three words.
''Huh? What do yo-'' Mina starts with a scrunch to her brows, but is interrupted by a figure entering behind her. She jolts at the sound behind her, flashing around to see familiar purple hair and chilled eyes entering the ruckus of his small home.
''Hey, guys.'' Jirou enters, greeting herself through the threshold and sending a firm look in each of their directions, one hand twirling herself in a spiral around her singular earphone jack, a skin-coloured sticker place over where her other one should be.
Her chilled attire of a leather jacket and simple denim skirt differs completely to Mina's obnoxious fur leopard coat, which is way too hot for summer heat, but is made up for by the short mini skirt and Gogo boots paired accordingly with the outfit, all completely matching.
It suddenly makes Uraraka appear way too underdressed, in a pair of Izuku's sweatpants and her freshly washed hoodie - which are, of course, paired with her air-force.
''Hi Jirou!'' The brunette and green haired man exclaim in unison, both slightly jumping up at the arrival of their friend, Uraraka waving her hand highly and Izuku keeping it to face-level.
''Uraraka, Midoriya!'' The new woman responds with a firm nod to both of them, a delicate beam on her pale cheeks as she removes her hand from her pocket to wave it back to them, matching Izuku's level of height rather than reach up to where Uraraka's was, to the point the girl's hoodie was riding up without shame.
''I thought you were waiting in the car?'' Mina asks, tilting her head to side with a look of confusion on her face, but not disapproval. She idly scratches her manicured finger to her own cheek, picking at the chub there subconsciously.
''You girls take too long, am I right, Midoriya?'' Jirou scoffs, rolling her eyes in endearment and directing her attention to the teacher who is bombarded by three girls in his apartment; a look of pity overtaking her eyes with her familiarity with dealing with the sunny bunch.
''No, it's fine! Really, don't worry about it.'' Izuku blushes slightly, reaching a hand up to his nape and rub it whilst playing with one of the loose, untamed curls drooping down his forehead. He tugs at it slightly before waving it frantically as if to express how it really doesn't bother him.
''You've got a heart of gold. I'll get these rascals out of your hair - Oh, and thanks for letting me borrow your acoustic guitar after mine broke! I'll pop round to return it soon.'' Jirou says as she grips both of the stray girls' arms, and flashing a grin at him, thanking him for the predicament she experienced after her acoustic guitar's strings tragically broke, and he thoughtfully lended her his own for the time-being.
''Kay, thanks Kyo'!'' Izuku tilts his head to the side gratefully, sticking one thumb up with the hand that had been waving like a mad-man... a mad-hand?
''Thank you, Izuku. But seriously, we are gonna be late, so we gotta split.'' The purple haired woman pointedly stares at him with affection and thankfulness, but points backwards with her thumb to the exit and he nods with understanding.
''Awww! Midoriya, you better show your face at the bar-party next week!'' Mina pouts, whining uncontrollably and squishing his face with her index and thumb, shaking his head with every word spilling from her lips.
''Bar party?'' He manages to ask with a muffled voice, sounding more similar to 'bah-purrtea?' and his eyes squinting both from the grip on his face and the calculations running through his mind on how he must've missed the invite on their classes group chat- although, it was a common occurrence for him to accidentally skip over things on there.
It was way too active for full-time-working people. Especially the majority being people who save the country day in and day out. Especially considering most things shared on there were stupid memes or dumb trends they claim they should do but never end up doing.
Their hear-me-out cake was magnificent though.
''Next Wednesday, 8pm. Be there!'' Uraraka winks with a cheesy smile, pointing a finger gun at him - a mannerism she had probably picked up from Mina, who probably picked it up from the electric blonde, Kaminari.
He was meme-sender.
The menacing meme-sender.
Oh- maybe Izuku should tell him to make that his hero name!...
...It had a ring to it!
''I'll try!'' He grins sheepishly and feels free after the harsh grip on his chin was released, and he blindly feels it with his own hands as to make sure his jaw isn't broken. Mina sure had muscle on her, probably from intense workouts Kirishima provided - and he only knew that because Kiri also gave them to Bakugo. Izuku hadn't ogled before. He hadn't.
Nope!
''You better, or I will whoop you.'' Uraraka smiles sweetly, her venomous words telling Izuku different from her delicate face as she squints her eyes with a gleam of threat that could easily be mistaken as happiness if Izuku were unable to read her will enough.
He didn't analyse in English for nothing!
''I'm so scared.'' He deadpans sarcastically, limbs going limp as his arms hand dull by his sides, tilting his head in a way to say, 'Really?'
''Damn right.'' She grins menacingly, a devilish smirk disdaining her picture perfect beauty, an approving nod accompanying the poor attempt at threat.
''You sure Bakugo isn't rubbing off on you, Uraraka?'' Izuku crosses his arms over his chest, leaning in tauntingly and a small uptilt to his lips possesses him mindlessly.
''Die.'' Uraraka squints her eyes further, her lips now pulled in a straight line and eyes almost as small as the pursed motion of her mouth. Izuku faintly hears an impatient tapping of feet behind them on his hard-wood floor.
''You just proved my point.'' Izuku exclaims, voice cracking as he professes his intelligence, an endearing smile crossing over his green features and crinkling the corners of his eyes like a painting being texturized.
''Whatever, phone.'' Uraraka rolls her eyes, reaching her hand out in a grabby-motion that babies typically do, or mothers when reaching for said baby, and looking at her palm expectantly before locking eyes with viridian ones in a way to emphasise her point.
''Phone?'' He questions with a tint of curiosity shielding the word, as he fishes it out of his sweatpant's pocket with obedience, knowing the girl won't find anything on there because he practically shares everything with her - so, despite why she's asking for it baffles him, the man nonetheless places it in her delicate hand and she immediately opens it with his facial ID.
''Okay? Is yours dead...? I let you borrow my charger.'' Izuku tries to come up with a reason as she scrolls hastily through his apps, seemingly finding what she was seeking hungrily for and tapping on it with so much eagerness that's the sound of her fingertip against the pixels is audible. With no response, his green eyebrows scrunch in confusion as the box is shoved back into his grip.
''Oh crap- Jirou you're so right! Gotta go, love ya, see ya, bye bye now!'' Uraraka gasps at the time on her fake-watch that she's somehow reading off of on her wrist, and before the viridian haired man can respond, the girls are all shoved out with a click on the door confirming their departure.
Hm. They shoved the door closed way too harshly, hell it’s vibrating.
That's weird, but Shoji caused the same effect in UA, Izuku thinks - even as the vibrations continue to emit throughout his body, circulating from his hands to his cranium, to his toes.
Looking down at the source point, Izuku abruptly gasps at the sight of his phone screen, which reads 'Kacchan!' at the top, as the phone repeatedly dials him over and over, and the enigma of the earthquake is soon solved as Izuku rushes to hang up the call with the enigma Katsuki Bakugo.
In his panic, however, the bright red button suddenly seems impossible to slam his fingertip onto, repetitively missing and the boy's anxiety only spikes as the dialling tunes out, and a timer appears underneath the desirable name on his screen.
''Izuku?'' A gravelly voice answers, no hint of anger in his tone as he awaits on any signs of an answer.
Katsuki, however, doesn't get an answer or the signs, as the viridian man on the other side stares at his screen with a dumbstruck expression, mouth agape and eyes wide like a gulping fish - and he finds himself unable to talk as his breath hitches uneasily in his throat.
''You there? If this was a fucking butt dial, I swear on the devil's hell-'' Katsuki mutters that last part, despite the beginning sounding almost slightly concerned. But Izuku was probably delusional.
Yeah, delusional.
A beat of silence passes between the two, or as far as Katsuki knows 'one', before Izuku shakes himself out of his discombobulation to rearrange the cogs in his mind, finally squeaking out a singular word that emits from his oesophagus with a horrendous voice crack,
''Kacchan!'' Izuku cringes directly after it peeps out from him, the word sounding strained and high-pitched on his end.
''Oh, you're alive.'' Katsuki scoffs sarcastically, letting out a slight chuckle to Izuku's teenage-boy like voice, like he was back in high school once again - speaking to his foolish crush who was impossibly oblivious to his obvious befuddlement surrounding all his mannerisms whenever speaking to him.
So high school.
''S-sorry! Didn't mean to- I mean...'' Izuku pinches the space between his brows, a shaky finger going to end the call as he prepares to proclaim this as a mistake and hang up, but a part of him reaches out to continue the conversation, to continue the noise of Katsuki's timbre voice entering his ears and humming in them pleasantly, ''What're you doing?'' He decides on after clearing his throat, returning to his usual octave and awkwardly making small talk.
''What a weird question, nerd.' The blonde responds, amusement and confusion muffled in his deadpanning tone, and a momentary silence passes in which Izuku doesn't speak at all, and upon no clear answer, Katsuki settles on answering the previous questions,
''I'm just on my shitty mid-day run. You need something, 'Zuku?''
Ah, that explains why the man sounds strangely breathy and tired to Izuku's phone's speakers, and ten times more attractive.
What?
Did you hear that?
Cause Izuku sure didn't.
''No- I mean, yes?'' He responds, changing his mind split second and tilting his head at the unusual sensation of being awkward with Kacchan. They'd been a lot of complex things, and awkward was definitely one of the many options. This time, however, it seemed to be totally on only Izuku's end, as Katsuki responded normalcy and with ease, not sensing the tension and unprepared wit Izuku had not properly formed previously to this conversation.
''Kay... what's up?'' The other man asks with a hint of suspicion bleeding through his syllables, and Izuku can envision the wary squint of crimson eyes on the side of the phone parallel to him.
''Uh... Uhm- You going to the bar party next week?'' The viridescent man blurts out, the get-together the first thing popping to his mind as it stumbles out of his mouth clumsily, leaning back against his kitchen counter inconspicuously.
''Oh, that shit? I don't fucking know, Ejirou wants me too, but I'll just have to see. Bold of them fuckers to assume I have Wednesday off.'' Katsuki scoffs, shuffling emmitting through his speakers as the man moves about wherever he’s having his mid-day run, likely sitting on a bench, Izuku comes to the endless conclusion.
''Do you?'' He prods, a spark of hope igniting in his gut as he outwardly bites his lip in anticipation, something screaming at him to wish and mentally beg for the answer to be an affirmation.
''Morning duty. I don't have night patrol.'' The blonde replies blandly, but Izuku can almost recognise the prideful smile coating his tone at the mention of his heroic work; cause despite the rapid exhaustion he had expressed on the weekend, if Katsuki valued anything, it was his job.
Izuku didn’t know if he valued anything higher - and part of him didn’t want to find out, in the chance there’s a person being held up there with it, sitting alongside Katsuki’s throne; matching him perfectly.
The other half, however, had the urge to ask, and ask, and ask, and decode slowly; to know everything about the man.
The good, the bad, and the ugly.
The past, the present and the future.
The him, his and he.
''So, you going?'' Izuku clears his throat, turning himself back round on the counter and leaning forward on it dutifully, his shirt riding up slightly as he leans both his elbows on it, the phone pushed up to his ear between the valley made by his head and shoulder.
''You?'' The hero retorted, flipping the question around with a slight quirk to his voice that only revealed his hidden curiosity.
''Uhm- Yeah, Guess so.'' Izuku shrugged, the phone almost tumbling down and crashing to the marble, but scarred hands manage to fumble and catch it before the inevitable disaster; and once the phone is safe and sound on the counter, now on speaker mode, Izuku breathes a sigh of relief at the pristeen screen-cover he had somehow maintained and preserved; even if he already had a notorious record for cracked pixels.
''Alright then, I'll be there.'' Katsuki says simply, with no regard for how the green haired one’s pink heart jumps at the prospect.
''You will? Seriously?'' Izuku can’t help the way disbelief runs in his tone, flowing through the sentence like a natural river, and he hears the silent echo of Katsuki ‘tch’ing.
''Why the fuck would I lie?'' The blonde scoffs subconsciously, the eye roll emulating from the way of dialect, and Izuku can only smile softly at the immediate defensiveness Katsuki still kept after so many years of Anger-training.
''No reason, Kacchan. Just thought you needed to go bed early... or something like that.'' He laughs gently, moving his looming figure from directly over the phone slide open his cabinet’s drawer, grasping the first take-out menu he sees from a whole pile of them; stacked like a children’s lego tower.
''Nah, I can go bed straight away after I get back, I have sleeping pills after all, Might as well fucking use 'em.'' Katsuki yawns, ironic to the topic, but Izuku’s eyes widen slightly in surprise from the discovery; He didn’t know Kacchan took the monsterous tubes too.
Then again, he wouldn’t be too surprised if all of their classmates had to gulp down a pill everynight to swallow down the sweet sensations of dreams, Izuku thinks with a disappointed exhale through his nose.
''Oh, Yeah. Recovery girl assigned me them too. Nightmares?'' The green haired man knows he probably sounds a little too elated at the idea of sharing the same sleeping-pills from the same war they both fought in their teens, but the weird image of them both taking pills made him feel gladder than he thought it would ever.
Maybe, it’s cause he had someone to share the pain with.
''No. My damaged hearing. My ears ring at night, sometimes.'' Katsuki grumbles, begrudgingly scrapping his teeth together as he seethes so loudly that Izuku can hear the clank of the unhealable bones.
Katsuki had hearing problems post-war, and he really, really hated it when all teachers made a point to not ask him if he’d heard what they said a moment before, which was a pretty common occurrence beforehand.
The disability didn’t exactly emerge from the war, but it had been a huge cataclyst for his eardrums to finally fall flat on their feet, with all the constant fights he had to deal off and even the sound of other booming quirks filling his ears.
The condition was worse in his right ear to the point the hero had to wear a hearing aid, and he almost represented a heroic symbol for anyone with auditory issues.
With the boy only gaining more fans with his flamboyance to donate to deaf research charities, Izuku and Mei had both come up with the idea to attach a hearing aid to the boy’s mask, which proved to be successful scheme when his hearing aid was added onto all his merch and figurines, and the hero had even thanked them with a mumble afterwards.
In Katsuki terms, that basically meant he was super grateful and they’d changed his life for the better.
''Oh! I wish I'd known! I could've given you my medication.'' The green haired man taps his chin thoughtfully, slightly cringing at the fact the blonde could’ve been tossing and turning in his sleep for all he knew, and he was knocked out cold in his bedroom without a care in the world, dead to the universe and probably snoring obnoxiously loud.
Katsuki could probably go deaf just from that.
''No. It's fine. I think somehow... I didn't have them when I was in your apartment.'' The blonde dismisses it with a mutter, the end of the sentence somehow transforming into a mumble that quite literally reached a new low for Katsuki.
''O-oh. Really? That's... that's good then!'' Izuku grinned, sending a dart to his couch where the blonde must’ve slept peacefully, then. Thank AllMight.
''Yeah it was. It is.'' The blonde deadpans, a silence overtaking the call after the rearrangement of the statement; a sort of blanket covering in Izuku that told him something more deep was behind those words, and it would be something he would never quite figure out.
''Okay! I've... uhm. Gotta feed my dog!'' Izuku rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, then sticking a finger up decisively despite Katsuki not being able to observe his actions physically.
''You... you don't have a dog.'' The other man merely deadpans, amusement and confusion wrapped around the frame of his sentence as he chuckles in his throat softly.
''Dog-sitting!'' The green haired man awkwardly giggles, giggles, searching his eyes around thd apartment for a dog that would suddenly appear.
''Izuku.''
''Cm'here Bingo! Bingo, dinner time! Good boy, yup, good boy. That's you! Oh- he's crawling on me Kacchan. Got to go.''
''Izuku- wait-''
''I'll see you next weds!''
''I-''
Notes:
HEYA! did ya enjoy?
lmk, leave a comment.
eat, drink, put sunscreen on, take medicine, watch ur favourite tv show and telling someone u love ‘em!stay plus ultra :)
Chapter 12: windshield
Notes:
hi!
im assuming youve alrdy saw my previous chapter, but for when i delete it (which will be after next chapter), in summary:
it basically stated how i apologise for my abscence and how i was going through some rough patches. ive had surgery and couldnt walk for a good month, had to celebrate the holidays with my family, and ive been recently resitting exams i couldn't complete when i had to miss school because of said surgery!! D:this chapter has been in development for a while, but im also writing this note and i wrote the end of this chapter at like 2am after school, so im kind of dying right now.
thank you SO MUCH for ur kind comments- they mean the absolute woooorld to me!!!
ALSO - squid game s2. EEK. soo good. i loved it! i watched it in the first 2 days of it coming out. lmk if youve watched it!
on another note, i have a singer!izuku au oneshot in the works with medicine student katsuki, second chapter to izuku's previously loved list, and the next chapter for this alrdY in the making.
i WILL lock in,anyways, GO ENJOYYY
Chapter Text
The next two days went without another nuance, nuisance or disruption for the green-haired teacher. It was utter peace in his classroom, infact maybe it was perfect.
The sun was hitting his students as they squinted to see the printed words on manufactured wood, the days had been as rowdy as perusual and Izuku could only compare them to his own days at high school.
Perfect, aside from the now regular occurrence of his students continuing to call and yell after by his informal name; to which he cringes every time, but has given up to the solve the issue caused by his obliviousness.
Other than that, the long hours from dawn, mid-day and noon passed without a hitch, no more surprise visits from his hero friends or a random pop-up at his cosy home; likely due to his classmate's new-found busyness that briefly makes Izuku ponder on how they're all going to be able to meet up on Wednesday - but he doesn't debate it further with the confirming (and slightly threatening) ping from his phone sent by the one and only bobbed brunette girl.
Uraraka-San :P: ya coming to the party? fo sure? cause PLEAAAAAASE. please please please please. need u there! :( luv ya, dont b pressured but we would love to all c u.
Izuku smiles at the sincere message behind the text, and scoffs slightly at the girl's somehow irresistible charm even through digital coding - despite the fact Izuku was gonna go no matter what, due to his urge to see his classmates in an informal setting once again, it was nice to have at least a pinch of motivation from someone who seemed desperate for him to want to go.
He deep down knew that if he didn't want go or felt too nervous and jittery to present himself afront of his friends, Uraraka ultimately wouldn't mind - and that this was her indiscreet way of pushing him out of his little hermit shell crab he's folded himself into furthering from graduation.
During the first several years of pure solitude and harsh commitment of his isolation, a tinge of jealousy lingered in his heart seeing all of his friend's thrive and still get to work together - whether it be in the agency's locker rooms or patrolling together during long crime-filled nights.
That feeling is long gone now, and Izuku is aware of all the life's he's still changing even if it's not physically; but mentally - as he forms the minds and neurological structures of the little rascals he calls his 'students.'
He begins to type with far better grammar than the other woman,
Deku-Kun! : Yeah, yeah. I'll be there! :D You still picking me up? Cuz I'm pretty sure the bus would kill me both physically and mentally rn :p
Izuku sends it quickly, turning to his mirror tucked in the corner of his bedroom and patting his outfit down with internal tussling from many audible voices arguing over the conditions and circumstances of the shirt, and if the pants were appropriate for a bar and many ruckuses and squabbles over the comfortability of his shoes.
After many hours of rummaging through his admittedly disastrous wardrobe; if it could be even called that and not 'a horribly discerning good pile of evident grief', said by Iida - Izuku had eventually concluded on a casual sky blue denim flannel that was loosely fitted (for a casual bar evening with loose conversation), a simple white hoodie underneath (for simple baggy reassurance) and regular black jeans that weren't skin tight nor over-voluptuous (to sit on a regular stool that wasn't too high nor low).
His shoe decision was a bit tougher, but the brain-strained was quickly ended as he chose a pair of red converse; to differ from his scuffed up original ones and spice things up for a rare occasion, but also because his thick all-might socks wouldn't have sat well enough with his equally-thick childhood boots.
With a lip bite, the green haired man turns in the reflection of himself, and fixes up his hair to no avail as the viridian mop of mess just flops lazily back down into it's original pattern.
Izuku grumbles incoherently, lifting his calloused fingertips to massage his scalp in the aim of changing his hair follicles cells, but is interrupted from a ping! from his mobile atop his dresser, vibrating the bottom drawer of the furniture slightly.
Uraraka-San :P: weeeelll.... not /me/ persay, but i'll defo be there!! c;
Green eyebrows furrow at the strange text, and his thumbs are paused before their confused typing as his doorbell goes off without a warning, scaring the life out of his poor, teacher soul.
''Coming!'' He yells, skedaddling out of his room and shoving his shoes onto his socked feet with many pitiful misses that the teacher is glad no one had the pain of witnessing, and opening his door to slide past Uraraka's tiny yet muscular frame.
However, it appears the frame blocking his doorway is definitely not tiny, and more muscular than initially expected - So Izuku ends up quiet efficiently banging effectively into the chest of Katsuki ‘Blastly’ ‘Kacchan’ ‘Arrogant bastard’ Bakugo.
''Wah! Kacchan! I? Huh! What? Hello, I mean, of course, Hi, But huh?'' The green haired man rambles, head spinning as he stares directly into crimson eyes that are lined with unspoken amusement and a glint of Katsuki's very own confusion hidden amongst the nonchalant confidence his relaxed stance portrays.
''Round-face didn't tell you that you were riding with me?'' Katsuki's tongue moves in the inside of his gums, poking out around his cheek and a slight uptilt to the opposite side of his lips as he surveys the situation; all the whilst looking Izuku up and down in his totally casual and not-methodically-planned-out-outfit that didn't take him multiple hours to perfectly exude the exact amount of 'unbothered' the viridian wanted to display. (despite the green haired man practically bouncing at the idea of being with his classmates all in one spot with no work stresses attached to it - He wasn't that excited! Hah. Ha...).
''Nope. She didn't.'' Izuku chuckles awkwardly, sliding a palm down his face as he looks abashedly at the ground, but slyly assessing Katsuki's outfit in turn, and God-dammit-Great-Explosion-Murder-God—Dammit-Dynamight; how did he execute such a casual look so casually?! A white loose-fitting t-shirt, grey sweats, a brown leather also loose-fitting bomber jacket for the cold, and simple panda Jordans - It was something anyone could've put on in their sleep, which was what made it so perfect.
The guy had parent's who were fashion-designers... Izuku should really ask Auntie Mits for help... She could teach him the pro's of simple but standout really well outfits- Another thing added to the now-very-long-list of Izuku's mental checkout items.
''Typical Pink-Cheeks. Whatever, Lets hit the road, Nerd.'' Katsuki scoffs with a small eyeroll but turning on his heel to walk away. In response, Izuku fumbles briefly to snag his bag off the hook by his genkan with as much flair a man can snag a bag off a hook with, and follows after the blonde triumphantly - and by triumphantly, he means with a pep in his step as he follows blindly like an elated puppy. It's almost reminiscent to all the fond memories Izuku holds of a young Kacchan across the rocky grounds of a random playground they likely ventured off to without permission - Izuku blocks out middle school memories - and then connects the thread of string connecting them through their life right back onto their current dynamic that consists of a strange banter and an odd mental connection that the two can't seem to rid off for the life, and in worse cases, death of them.
''Wait, are we taking your motorcycle?'' The green haired man pulls himself out of his thoughts at the assumption that ignited itself from the flint and steel of his brain, green eyes flickering with sparks of something similar to apprehension, mixed in with anticipation and stirred up with a glare compared to excitement? Strangely enough, despite all of his useless protesting and unflattering refusal, Izuku had actually enjoyed his time on the stupid bike.
Maybe it was the uncontrollable flood of Indie songs filling his head like Lovers by Anna of the north as the wind wildly flailed his green locks, or maybe it was the contrast of the bike's cold metal and Katsuki's warm torso he wrapped around that pleased him incoherently.
Maybe - just maybe - it was the adrenaline rush he hadn't felt in years.
A tiny prickle of suspense blossoms in his chest at the thought of experiencing the rush of drugs in his veins, but it was quickly dimmed out like a cigarette being stepped on as Katsuki just shakes his soft head, fishing a key to a Porsche from his jacket's pockets and unlocking a car on the opposite side of the road with a satisfying click.
Izuku’s chest might just rebloom itself at the sight.
Although, his chest was always blossoming around Katsuki - so he pays it no mind.
It’s always been there; there’s no reason, and Izuku just thinks it’s lactic acid.
''Whoa... Porsche! I thought you only had your bike? This is expensive, are you sure I can be riding in this? I could scuff up the seats; and I have a really bad habit of propping my feet on the dashboard. Like really bad. Like I have gotten batted off of people's dashboards for that exact reason. It's actually formed scars before! But you probably shouldn't trust me in a car like this, to be honest...''
Izuku darts his head from the unresponsive blonde to the black, shiny mechanical vehicle they've now walked up to from across the road, the pretty thing sitting there and looking brand new and way too nice for the teacher's standards. Izuku supposes he now does have his answer to what car the Dynamight would drive, and it's honestly a bit shocking that he never even contemplated a Porsche before!
Katsuki probably has a mean parallel park on him.
And he probably drives with one hand on the wheel.
Heh.
''Shut up with your yapping, It's fine. I've had Denki in the car, so the dashboard already sucks. And, you are fitting of this goddamn baby, you just refuse to get a car for god-knows-why.'' Katsuki pushes Izuku's head away like an incessant toddler, climbing into the drivers seat and the viridescent man can only huff out a breath with his arms stuffed into his hoodie's pockets as he rubs his bottom lip carefully between his teeth.
Defeatedly, he trudges his converse on the asphalt roads to the passenger seat, immediately soothed by the spectacular seat-warmers and comfy headrests and the godly scent Katsuki has infected the car with.
It's an immaculate experience, to say the least.
''This is so nice...'' Izuku practically swoons, sinking deeper into the crook of the seat and feeling himself go flimsy at the pure comfortability that he didn't even know was possible to maintain in a car; despite the dashboard which was definitely screwed up.
At least it wasn't by him this time!
''Push your seatbelt on, Jackass.'' The blonde's lean bicep finds itself hovering over Izuku's bent form, tugging on the leather strap and thrusting over Izuku's hardly-breathing chest to secure him into the seat and the teacher only chuckles at the sentiment as the pro-hero begins his drive; looking carefully at the GPS propped on his phone by his window.
''Fuck you laughing for?'' The Ash-Blonde's eyes squint in suspicion, briefly side-eying his passenger.
“Heh. I don’t know.” Izuku smiles a little, mainly to himself for no apparent reason. Even as he ponders on Katsuki’s question, he can’t wipe the stupidly giddy smile off of his stupidly giddy face; and that stupidly, stupidly giddy feeling won’t wipe off his gut. He could probably wring his intestines out like a soaking piece of wet cloth and it would still linger there, like a darn cranberry stain on a white t-shirt.
Despite this, the confusion as to why Katsuki’s appearance only makes him giggle more, like a high school student in the back of their classroom making fun of their teacher’s shoes. The viridian man lightly chuckles until it at some point tumbles into a belly-laugh, filling the car well and foot space and nooks and crannies of the car with vibrancy radiating the perimeter brightly.
The blonde only stares with a glare of amusement lost in his irises, a twinge of fondness tinting them indescribably, and so beautifully, it would’ve made Izuku’s breath hitch in his throat if not for the lack of air from laughing so hard. His eyes are like raging fire, and that’s when Izuku’s mind mentally clicks together two wires; highlighting for Izuku that Katsuki’s quirk must’ve translated some sort of explosive addiction into the magma-alighted irises of his. Now, that’s going in the notebook.
The engine of the cat picks up after a beat, the stereo turning on as the rhythmic vibration of the vehicle picks up gradually. It blares a song Izuku vaguely recognises from when the ‘Wonder duo’ would share earphones from across their desks which were behind and in front of one another respectively - ‘I LOVE YOU SO’ by ‘Softwilly’ was a familiar tune to the teacher’s ears, and filled him with a bittersweet nostalgia that reminds him of his first day’s teaching at UA and the pain and melancholy memories that came in tow.
Still, his laughter merges into the soundtrack of the song, fading slightly as he opens his car window to stick his head out of it as they zoom through the bright, blinding streetlights of downtown Japan. His bed of seaweed hair frays through every wind gust, the air thrusting it’s fingertips as it caresses his head gently - like a nurturing mother soothing their child. Tears prickle into his eyes at the sensation, maybe from the nostalgic memory of his own mother’s fingertips skimming his scalp in a comparable manner, but mainly due to the power of the wind making his hair whip around his face like one of those inflatables outside a gas station.
The song is only faint into his eardrums, almost sounding like a track of a movie in the background and he leans into that idea, spreading his mouth into a wide grin as he feels the rush of feelings hit him in an adrenaline powered state.
They ride like that for a couple of minutes or so, Izuku occasionally glancing back to see Katsuki with his own glad smirk on his cheeks, driving with one hand and his bicep flexing absolutely wonderfully. They meet eyes on a few passing looks, and their matching glints in their irises complete each other to become a blooming star.
Izuku is only pulled in when a firm hand grips the loop of his belt and tugs him backwards. He flails uselessly, tumbling down from the window for his butt to land on his seat, his legs finding perch on the dashboard. Quickly removing his converse from it’s destination in fear of ruining the car’s perfect presentation, Izuku shoots a glance over at Katsuki who gestures to the space ahead of them.
“Tunnel.” Katsuki speaks blandly, and before Izuku can realise that his head could’ve easily got chopped off like the girl in hereditary, his senses are overcame with orange lights fading in and out as the artificial illumination filters slightly through the Porsche’s sunroof. Turning back to the blonde, whose eyes are going from a tangy orange mixed with the pale yellow light then fading to a dark crimson as it dies down, Izuku smiles softly,
“Thanks, Kacchan,” He beams now, looking at the constantly changing light reflecting off the blonde’s skin like glass and slightly admiring the gentle curve of his noise before leaning back in chair - far too comfortable but he doesn’t care - and lessening his pearly whites to a dopy grin, “Almost died there. You saved me… again.”
“You’re welcome, nerd. Think of it as payback.” Katsuki scoffs, his forearm resting on the open window next to him as the wind tussles his hair back and forth - the aural fingertips caressing his head softly - and a matching lazy, almost absentminded smile lays on the blonde's face. A little twinkle rests in his crimson eyes, and Izuku can't draw his gaze away.
“For what?” Izuku responds, without really paying attention to the actual nature of what he's asking and instead staring dumbfoundedly at the side profile in front of him. The tunnel finally ends, and Katsuki's hair that was once shadowed by the fading lights of the warm toned underpass is now illuminated by the moonlight distantly in the far, blurred out background
Katsuki was the only thing in focus.
“All the times you’ve saved me.” The hero stares straight ahead, subtly swallowing down a lump of spit and causing his Adam's apple to bop smoothly. Viridian irises track the movement, but get slightly pulled out of their haze from the odd intimacy the blonde's tone uttered and confusing undertone layered beneath every honey-sucking syllable.
“I’ve never saved you from almost wiping out by a brick wall before.” Izuku smiles stupidly to himself, huffing out a small chuckle at his little joke that was mainly to appease himself to prevent any awkward statement that could escape his mouth. Twiddling his thumbs in his lap, he manages to suck his eyes away from Katsuki, his sight landing on the relaxing lights of the surrounding street vendors and gazing around at the couples on passionate dinner dates surrounded by a candlelight environment.
“In other ways, Dumbass.'' The crimson-alighted eyes of the other man slide over to his passenger, and the passenger in question can't help but meet them in the middle. Realistically, Katsuki should really be looking at the road right now, and Izuku should really not be getting into this right now.
Not tonight.
Not right now.
Not ever.
Ever!
And as much as the viridescent boy tries to mentally push that motif on himself, his veins lull with a creative rush and a skipped heartbeat encapsulates his chest roughly, encaging the organ with more power than a ribcage. A smile etches on his cheeks before he can stop the movement, his lips tugging up without his permission and he can't bring it down no matter how hard he tugs the rope.
“Okay, Mr Sap, How then?” Izuku jabs him in the stomach between the ribs, tilting his head left and right mockingly and his smirk only widening at the contorted scowl Katsuki pulls as he curls one lip up to reveal his pearly whites.
“Shut up.” The blonde switches his arms, the right one now gripping onto the wheel and the left one now blindly swatting at the genuine direction of Izuku's wandering fingertips which are now skilfully averting the looming swings and poking him elsewhere.
Somehow, Izuku's scarred fingerprint reaches his cheek - the skin is strangely soft, but he has no time to dwell on it as his wrist is grasped by Katsuki.
“Kacchan! You can’t just tease me with that sentence. C’mon.” The viridian teacher pleads, attempting to wrangle his arm out of the iron-grip and squirming his arm out far enough to continue to abuse his finger into the flesh of the opposite boy's face.
“No.” Katsuki drops his hand with flair, and Izuku flops lazily over, staring up at the blonde through his eyelashes despite the lack of budging the Ash-blonde is doing as he stares determinedly out of the windshield; still turning and twisting round lone Japanese streets. They were now getting closer to the bar, as the streets converted from public roads with bundling Zebra-crossings to slightly damp pavements crowned by cream streetlights and small shops lined on either side of the road.
“Please!” The teacher attempts his best puppy eyes, his cheery voice bordering on desperate as he slumps his cheeks against the dashboard, one eye half closed from the pressure against his head and converse creeping up to tuck on the heated seat.
“Not doing it.” Katsuki grumbles, lips barely moving as a light blush overtakes his cheeks, hardly visibly but Izuku is pretty sure he could notice any difference on the blonde's face with the amount of times he's scanned it - memorised it.
“Kacchan!” Izuku whines, before a beat - and he thinks.
Huh...
“… Katsuki?”
The Pro-hero has a visible reaction to that, eyes widening, lips twitching slightly over the wheel and head jerking around to the innocent looking man sitting next to him, flush rising to his cheeks indescribably and linking perfectly to his scarlet irises.
“Katsuki, tell me?” Izuku smirks like a little (admittedly) motherfucker, and if you were to ask him if he was using that name because he thought it would get him what he wants or because he enjoyed the oddly endearing reaction from Katsuki, he would probably say 'No comment!' in a squeamish voice or quite frankly avoid it completely - Maybe because he doesn't know the answer, or maybe he doesn't want to believe it.
“Fuck, Izuku. Don’t.” The blonde warns, sounding strangely guttural and an explosion twinkling in the red of his irises, warm oranges and bright yellow flashing like a fiery flicker.
“You just called me Izuku!” The mop of curls flops up from where he was bent, and he adjusts himself to sit up straight, voice raising an octave as he swings slightly as they turn a sharp corner. A robotic voice from the corner of the car tells them they're five minutes away, but it goes unnoticed as their banter-filled dispute goes on.
“It’s not the same!” Katsuki voice also raises an octave, but is still significantly deeper than Izuku's one, as his abdomen twists to partially face the smaller man (despite their height difference only being a tiny three inches) and his finger jabs accusingly at the chest of the teacher.
“It’s our first names! Fir-st-na-mes. They’re called the same thing, therefore are the same!” Izuku's words roll off of his tongue, splitting them up for clear emphasis and the side of his palm smacking across his flat one in a karate chop motion, almost resembling Iida.
“There’s meaning behind words, dingus! Like, sure - There’s cream. But there’s Ice cream, and whipped cream, and…” Katsuki clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, “Other types of cream - the point stands; its the meaning.” Katsuki shrugs towards Izuku harshly, sticking his chin out as it'll prove his point further and disbelief coating his tone.
“And what is Kacchan’s meaning?” The viridescent boy teases, prodding further at the blonde's nerves, not being able to control the urge to annoy him without fail - a smirk spontaneously combusting at the pursing of plump lips from Katsuki.
“You know it.” The hero groans, lolling his head tiredly and rubbing at his eye with his fingers that aren't on the wheel - He must be tired, Izuku thinks briefly, he had hero work in the morning, after all - and an uptilt to his mouth the only thing Izuku is focusing on.
“Do I?” Izuku leans out to his window, resting his chin on his palm as he rests his elbow on the piece of the car next to him; carefully avoiding all the buttons to close the window as the cold Japanese breeze soothes him endlessly.
“Yeah, You do.” Katsuki flexes over to flick the side of Izuku's temple, causing the victim to absentmindedly hit in the general direction as his ears attune to the simple but completely wonderful sound of the blonde's amused scoff.
“Yeah, I do, Kacchan.” Izuku hums decidedly, leaning his head where the bottom of the window meets the hard surface of the car's interior as he shuts his eyes closed sweetly, eyelashes batting onto his cheeks.
“So, what is it?” The hero speaks almost soft now, car pulling into the parking lot from the odyssey that has felt like it was an hour long, time moving slowly as Izuku savoured every minute with the man like it was the last bit of his favourite food; his voice the syrupy sauce on top.
“I have to spell it out for you?” Izuku wanders his eyes open, stretching like a feline against the fabric seat and eyes meeting the door of a building made out of the attached brick, a tiled and slightly too innocent looking roof for a bar, and a warm, almost a burnt orange glow reflecting onto the dewy outside streets.
A singular green, neon sign with the writing 'BAR OPEN 24/7' sticks onto the condensation-covered window and set an awful, but invigorating sense of safety to the place as it sucks Izuku into the seemingly buzzing atmosphere of moving silhouettes through the blurry windows.
“Hah! So you don’t know what that stupid nickname means to me.” Katsuki breaks him out of his daydream, wiggling a finger directly at Izuku's nose and bopping it at the end with a victorious sigh at what he thinks is his win for catching the green haired boy's loss.
“If it was stupid, you wouldn’t be defending it this hard, Kacchan.” The teacher purrs, the nickname escaping off of his tongue easily as he shimmies his shoulder in the direction of the blonde, a cheeky grin wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I’m not defending it - the meaning could be disgusting for me.” Katsuki almost sounds offended in a mischievous way, his face transitioning into furrowed brows and an agape mouth.
“Saying ‘Could be’ means it’s not that* meaning.'' Izuku sing-songs, using a dumb amount of hand gestures, and glancing his eyes to the side to the look at the Ash blonde from his peripheral vision.
“Fuck you, you little analyst.” Katsuki also looks forward, both of them faces glued to the building in front of them but their eyes linking together in the middle, their irises intermingling together as it feels as though they breach some sort of invisible line either one of them had drawn.
Then the teacher realises what the other man had said.
“Fudge you, you - you nickname defender!” He jolts his head in offense, placing a mock hand over his chest to display his feigned pain as he stammered for some sort of insulting and ultimately rolling the dice on the worst possible options.
“And defending my nickname is a bad thing? An insult?” Katsuki twists his white t-shirt to face directly to Izuku's seat, arms crossed over his chest with intimidation crossed across all his body language, but playfulness the only visible translation on his face.
“So you admit you're defending it?” Izuku leans in too, matching his posture, their bodies parallel but almost touching from their close proximity and their breath almost shading slightly onto each other.
“You admit you think defending it is bad?” Katsuki squints his burgundy eyes, managing to squirm into Izuku's personal space further than he had before (which the green haired man had thought was honestly impossible), and their nose tips almost connect.
''Hey, Midobro! Katsuki - Bro! Broski!'' were the words uttered after a large bang sounded through the small space of the car, causing both males to jump away from one another, flush flooding their face as the blood rushes without permission to both of their cheeks.
Izuku only cranks his head in a way a creepy, possessed doll might, and spots Kaminari efficiently splayed over the windshield and almost breaking the window wipers.
As Katsuki tries to drag Kaminari off by his shirt - reaching his arm outside of the window to curl around to the front of the car to catch onto the fabric - Izuku is too focused on the two figures trailing behind him.
Jirou, with her leg propped up as though she has just drop-kicked the electric man onto their vehicles without breaking a sweat,
and Mina, in her over fashionable glory, holding a bottle of booze.
The pink woman yells,
''Let's get this party started!''
Izuku might just die tonight.
Chapter 13: HIATUS
Chapter Text
Hi everyone! I know, I know, the next chapter isn’t here yet. And to be completely honest without any sugarcoating, it’s because i’ve lost interest in the mha fandom and i’ve completely forgot how the characters act. see, ive recently been indulging in the marauders fandom and it’s effectively taken over my life. that DOESNT mean this fic is not gonna be completed, bc i still have a whole plan ready, but its gonna be a while.
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