Archive of Our Own

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said, staring at the pathetic face of his best friend. Former best friend. He was being demoted and Mina was quickly climbing the ranks. Plus, her taste in music was better. “You did not just ask me— me —to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting. 

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?” Katsuki said, shoving Kirishima off with his full weight and barking a laugh when Kirishima toppled into a bush. Whistling a happy tune, Katsuki pocketed his hands in his leather jacket and strolled toward the school entrance. 

“Wait!” Kirishima’s voice was fast incoming as he sprinted in Katsuki’s wake, a beefy arm slinging over Katsuki’s shoulders and stinking of cheap aerosol deodorant. “Wait, hold up, bro! I only have two options! Dad said Deku’s grades are so good because he concentrates on school and I don’t—”

“Your dad is obviously smarter than you—”

“—which means either Deku has to start failing his courses—”

“—his entire life is school, you’re fucked—”

“—or he needs to start dating. Preferably, like, soon? Before the dance kind of soon?”

“No,” Katsuki said, glowering at a group of girls who mindlessly chattered in the dead center of the corridor until they dispersed with squeals of horror. “Find someone else.”

“Oh, come on,” Kirishima said, getting distracted with smiling and waving at some other guys on the soccer team. “Bakugou, Bakugou, there’s got to be some kind of, of incentive or—”

“Who taught you that word?” Katsuki said, meeting his locker and sighing when Kirishima pulled up at the one beside his. Their lockers had been nearby each other since freshman year. There had been no escape for going into four years now. Stubborn motherfucker. Speaking of stubborn—

“Sero,” Kirishima replied instantly, totally unashamed. “I even had note cards, but I think I mostly memorized them.”

“I hate this conversation more than most.”

Kirishima opened his locker and laughed as some precarious textbooks toppled out to land at sneakers. Katsuki slammed his own door with a metallic clang and leaned against his locker, arms folded, unamused as all hell while he watched Kirishima collect the components of his brain from the floor. 

“Please!” Kirishima popped up, holding the stack in his hands, his eyes wide and pleading. 

“No,” Katsuki said, entirely unfeeling. “I hang out at your house enough to know he’s still the same awkward freak from middle school. On top of that, he’s clearly a total fucking virgin, and what d’you want me to do with that?”

Katsuki was also a virgin, but neither Kirishima nor anyone knew that or had to know that. 

“Just—” Kirishima shoved his books back into the locker, wincing as they nearly toppled back out. The inner door of his locker was plastered with pictures of his friends and, mainly, Mina. Gross. “Just take him to some places. Kiss him a few times. He’s nice, he’s cute—”

“You’re saying that about your brother—”

“Step-brother, and I’m not blind!”

“That’s nasty, dude,” Katsuki said, outright grinning now at Kirishima’s sputtering. “Wow. I’m gonna tell him. That’ll be a good opening line, right? Hey Deku, your brother thinks you’re—”

“I didn’t say that!” Kirishima’s voice cracked in half with the abject horror, his entire face flushing red. Katsuki may or may not have been vaguely aware of Kirishima’s slightly unhealthy obsession with Deku in freshman year, only a year after their parents had tied the knot. While Kirishima had never said it out loud because of obvious reasons, it was a sleeping dog Katsuki loved to poke in the side. 

“Come on,” Katsuki said, dragging Kirishima’s despondent corpse down the hall by the collar of his letterman jacket. “I’m not gonna be late for calc because you’re busy being horny for—”

“I’m horny for Ashido Mina only!” Kirishima wailed in loud declaration. 

A couple people tripped up, faces ranging between incredulous and gleeful as they passed by Kirishima’s bright red face. At least he matched his hair.

“Sure,” Katsuki said lightly, just to goad him further and brighten his morning. 

“Money!” Kirishima said, scrambling to Katsuki’s side and linking their arms, latching on when Katsuki snarled and tried to flap him off. “Money, I’ve got money. I’ll give you money.”

“Have you seen my house?” Katsuki said. “What the fuck can you buy me that my parents won’t?”

“The, uh, um—” Kirishima said, clearly short-circuiting off whatever note cards were undoubtedly stowed in his backpack. “The, uh, the meet-and-greet with All Might!”

Katsuki tripped up over one of the untied laces of his monstrous black boots, but otherwise said nothing. He knew which meet-and-greet Kirishima meant. A gathering at the biggest skatepark in a hundred mile radius of here, and an exclusive opportunity to meet and skate with All Might, the greatest skateboarder of this generation and the last. The man was a living legend and Katsuki’s not-so-secret obsession. 

“What about it?” Katsuki said, casual as he could. They’d paused in front of his calculus class and Katsuki had it on good authority from the dumbass himself that Kirishima’s class was on the opposite end of the school. He’d have to book it by the time the late bell rang. It would be fun to watch him struggle. 

“I could get you tickets!” Kirishima sputtered, his entire face lighting up when Katsuki hesitated. “Listen, listen, li—”

“I’m fuckin’ listening you dumbshit—”

“You know my dad knows All Might from his tattoo shop days!” Kirishima was practically bouncing now and Katsuki felt himself filling with dread. “Deku is already going because, well, my dad. And you—I know you missed out on the sales—”

“Those fuckers sold out in seven minutes and the website crashed. The fuck was I supposed to do? If I knew you could have hooked me up—”

“Well, I don’t know exactly if I can—”

“Kirishima,” Katsuki said, stepping into Kirishima’s space. Kirishima was well into six feet and Katsuki was nowhere near, but the intimidation factor of his entire existence remained as Kirishima clamped his mouth shut and nodded in double-time. “If you can show me the tickets with my own damn eyes, I’ll date your weird-ass nerd brother until the dance. No longer than that. Afterwards, it’s up to you.”

Kirishima gawked. Then he smiled so wide Katsuki was concerned for his mental health—moments before he found himself swept from his feet and spun like wild. 

Screaming, Katsuki kneed Kirishima in the balls and dropped to his feet, cursing out his stupid fucking best friend—no, relegated to second best fiend—until the late bell rang and Kirishima bolted away with the fear of Bakugou Katsuki and tardiness in his blood. 

Breathing hard, Katsuki brushed himself off, making sure to straighten the wild spikes of his hair and double-check his ear gauges hadn’t popped out in the squabble. 

Just as he was about to turn into class, a figure streaked by muttering, oh shit oh shit oh shit. Katsuki blinked, watching Deku of all people tearing around the corner, his backpack half unzipped and on the way to entirely open. He disappeared just like that, but a card flung from his bag and skittered across the tile in his wake.

“Oiy!” Katsuki yelled, but the dumbass was already gone.

Heaving a sigh, Katsuki picked up the card with a critical eye. It was his school identification. He needed this to swipe this for the library, computer labs, lunch money. 

“Shit,” Katsuki said to the empty hallway, pocketing the card.

It looked like this stupid fucking charade was going to begin today.

The official bell of school chimed in the corridor and Katsuki gawked at the doorway from which he stood only five feet away.

He was late . Not three weeks into Senior year and he was late for the first time in four years .

He was going to murder Midoriya Izuku before he actually dated him.

***

“So I wrote a list of all the stuff he likes,” Kirishima said, practically bouncing at Katsuki’s side as they headed for the cafeteria. “You two actually have a lot of common and—”

Katsuki tuned him out. He already knew this shit. Plenty of it, anyway. While Kirishima knew that Katsuki and Deku used to be pally in middle school, he’d never been privy to the full story. 

Best friends. Best friends since kindergarten and onward, inseparable through all of Katsuki’s childhood memories. Around middle school they had drifted. Deku hadn’t grown up, hadn’t broken out of his shell with people who weren’t Katsuki, didn’t know how to handle himself and constantly embarrassed Katsuki by being almost unhealthily attached to Katsuki. In front of his friends.

That shit mattered in middle school. Facts of life and all that. Katsuki hadn’t dwelled on their eventual separation, and yeah, he’d given Deku a hard time here and there, but it had been so easy and it had gotten a laugh out of his buddies, so at the time it hadn’t been anything Katsuki had given much mind. 

They’d been so far separated by the second year of middle school that by the time freshman year of high school hit and Kirishima introduced himself with the addition of being Deku’s new step-brother, Katsuki had been, well, shook.

Katsuki didn’t need a fucking list, he thought as he crumbled the lined paper into a ball and shoved it into his leather jacket with a scowl. He probably knew Deku better than anyone in this damn school. He’d given him his own damn nickname, hadn’t he? Kirishima probably didn’t know that.

But dating him? Fuck.

What was Katsuki thinking?

About All Might, mostly. So what if he’d have to go with Deku. It would be a blast. Deku loved All Might almost as much as Katsuki, and last time they’d skated together, Deku had been pretty good, so maybe he was even better now. They’d find out.

But Katsuki had to date him. Date Deku . Date the kid who used to cry and snot all over his shoulder when Katsuki’s mom yelled at them for digging up the flower beds. Date the kid who had once tricked him into eating dog kibble because he’d told Katsuki it was super tasty. Date the same kid who once made him laugh so hard he’d peed his pants.

No one knew who Katsuki was like Deku once did. To date him? How desperate was Katsuki to get a chance to meet and skateboard with the All Might?

Very desperate. Increasingly desperate. 

“Hey!” Kirishima was waving, and Katsuki tuned back in with a mental start when he realized Kirishima was waving at Deku. Deku and his equally weird loser friends. Loud glasses guy, the one who looked like a hamster with its cheeks stuffed with food, and goddamn Todoroki fucking Shouto. “Hey, Deku!”

“What’re you doing?” Katsuki hissed, jamming an elbow between Kirishima’s ribs over and over until Kirishima cried out pathetically. 

“H-his ID card?” Kirishima managed, clutching his side with a pathetic expression.

“Ah, fuck, you’re right.” Katsuki said as he steeled himself from emotion upon their approach.

Deku had stood up from the cafeteria table like he was on alert, his eyes big and his cheeks straight up red. From what? Nothing was happening. No one had spoken yet, for fuck’s sake.

“Eiji, hi!” Deku said, his voice too loud, too friendly. Katsuki felt his own scowl drag down his face. “What’s up, did you need something?”

“Oh, well, not me,” Kirishima said, all easy smiles and social skills. He had that in spades, at least. “But Bakugou found—”

“You dropped your ID,” Katsuki said, pulling out the card from his pocket and offering it forward.

Deku looked between Katsuki and the card for a moment like Katsuki was speaking a goddamn different language. Then he met Katsuki’s eyes—why, were they playing chicken? Katsuki wouldn’t be the first to look away. Katsuki stared back, didn’t even blink. Deku’s face burst back into flame, as it should be.

“O-oh, w-wow! Wow, thank you, Kacchan!” Deku said, nipping the card from Katsuki’s hand and clutching it to his chest like it was a goddamn gift. He beamed and—

“Kacchan?” Todoroki fucking Shouto said, as if he had any right to open his damn mouth in Katsuki’s presence. If there was one person Katsuki couldn’t stand more than Deku, it was the guy with a higher GPA than him, scored more touchdowns than him, empirically did shit better than him. “What the hell is a Kacchan?”

“That’s what your mom calls me in the sack,” Katsuki said, sneering as Todoroki only rolled his eyes and looked genuinely bored to be having any kind of interaction with him. 

“Anyway,” Deku said with a frantic note in his voice, “thank you so much, Ka—Bakugou. That was, thank you for bringing it back.”

“The fuck else would I do with it?” Katsuki said. “I ain’t gonna steal your lunch money, dweeb.”

Deku laughed, quick and high and nervous as he dragged a hand through his unruly green curls.

“Right! I mean, yeah, obviously!”

“Obviously,” Katsuki deadpanned.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima hissed, elbowing Katsuki with more force than even Katsuki previously had.

“Fuck,” Katsuki said, staring Deku down as if that would suddenly make this easier. “Hey, Deku.”

Deku blinked, looking shocked for whatever fucking reason.

“Y-yes?”

“Walk home with me and Kirishima today, alright?”

Deku looked at him. Katsuki looked back, impatient and waiting.

“D-Deku?” Hamster Cheeks said, standing to meet his side and tug on his sleeve. Katsuki frowned as she pushed her big tits on Deku’s arm and wondered if this would be a problem. “Hey, are you—”

“Walkhomewithyou?” Deku burst out in one long breath, his green, green eyes like saucers.

Katsuki grinned, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. 

“What? You scared or some shit?”

Deku blinked and smiled, his face changing, and suddenly felt like he was looking at the kid from their childhood. 

“Of you?” Deku said, smoothly pocketing his ID card as he met Katsuki’s eyes. “No.”

“So!” Kirishima cut in brightly, “We’ll see you out front after school?”

“Of course,” Deku said, once again obnoxiously cheerful and chirpy. “See you guys then!”

Without a lingering look, Katsuki nodded and followed Kirishima across the cafeteria to where their crew took up a coveted spot by the one and only giant cafeteria window. 

“Hey,” Katsuki said, frowning as he bumped Kirishima’s shoulder with his own. 

“Hmmm?” Kirishima was already honed in on Mina, who sat atop the table with her legs crossed, a short shirt riding up her thighs. She fluffed at her vibrant pink curls with one hand and waved at Kirishima with another. 

“Is Deku even gay?” Katsuki found himself asking. He didn’t have a clue. When Kirishima asked, Katsuki’s first inclination hadn’t even been to question it, which was weird in itself. “Or—or bi or whatever?”

“You didn’t know?” Kirishima said, beaming and throwing his damn arm over Katsuki’s shoulder again. “What, so you agreed to try and date him without even considering he might not like dudes? How bold! How manly! What an icon, dude. You thought you were just gonna turn him with the power of your dick—”

“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped, miming a sharp series of bites at Kirishima’s smug face. “Unless you want the power of your dick up your own ass.”

“I think I saw that in a porno once.”

Katsuki was gagging by the time they reached the table and Mina pounced, flinging her arms around Kirishima and all but sighing with heart eyes.

“What porn were you watching?” she asked Kirishima excitably, bouncing on her glittering platform sneakers to try and reach Kirishima’s mouth for a kiss. “Was it good? Is it on your phone? Can I see?”

“NO ONE IS LOOKING AT PORN WHILE I EAT MY FUCKING PIZZA,” Katsuki shrieked as he chucked his backpack to the ground and ignored the riotous guffaws of Sero, Denki, and Jirou. They were all shitbags, the lot of them. And Katsuki was hungry.

As he stalked toward the food area, he spotted Deku—

Deku looking at him from his table.

Katsuki’s first instinct was to flick him off. His second was to make an ugly face. He settled on the third, which was a steely stare with a cocked chin, a dare to just go ahead and try it.

Whatever it was.

He went through the line and got his pizza, and by the time he looked back to Deku’s table of nerds, no one was paying him attention at all. Deku laughed, open and cheerful, at something Todoroki fucking Shouto said, wiping at tears with the back of his hand, and somehow that was so much more obnoxious than not looking at Katsuki at all.

How was Katsuki going to date that idiot?

Maybe he needed more of a gameplan than he first thought. 

With a sigh, he patted the crumpled paper in his jacket pocket and thought of All Might.

***

“Hi!” Deku said as he ran towards them, a little out of breath. “Oh, Ashido, hi!” 

“Hey cutie,” Mina said, squeezing Deku in a bearhug before releasing him and allowing him to breathe again. “Do you have those chemistry notes from eighth period that I could copy?”

“Sure,” Deku said without apparent qualm in sharing his work with the fucking airhead scamming the world with her pretty face and charms. At least she was smart about it. Instead of studying harder and getting better grades so he could date Mina, Kirishima bribed his best friend to date his brother. Ass-backwards motherfucker.

“Are you two hanging out with Eiji today?” Deku said as they eventually fell into step with each other, the sidewalk only allowing for two and two with Katsuki and Deku trailing behind. 

“Yup!” Mina said, wrapping an arm around Kirishima and snuggling into him in a way that had Katsuki making a gagging noise. “After all, it’s only a matter of time we can date since—”

“No one wants to hear about your lovelife,” Katsuki snapped, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and coming into contact with the now-folded, slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. “You’re both boring as fuck when all you do is talk about each other. Find something else to do that doesn’t make me want to reach into my front seat pocket for the puke bag.”

“What, like Shindo Yo’s party this weekend?” Mina said over her shoulder, and fuck if Katsuki didn’t catch the knowing glint in her amber eyes. She was entirely in on this and was miles better at unfolding schemes that Kirisihima ever was. “Deku, you’re going, aren’t you?”

“M- me?” Deku laughed in obvious surprise, both hands flexing on his backpack straps. “That’s—no. No, um. Definitely not. I don’t—I don’t party or, or drink.”

“What, you a lightweight or some shit?” Katsuki said, grinning ferociously at Deku’s perceived weakness. Deku looked to him with big eyes, a flicker of panic that had Katsuki salivating to bully him—just a little. His reactions were so cute.

Funny. Not cute. Gross. 

“I’m not myself when I drink,” Deku said quickly, whirling his attention forward to firmly stare ahead as they walked. His ear was absolutely red. 

“Haaah?” Katsuki leaned in, automatically keeping in step with Deku from a past lifetime of childhood summers spent side by side. “Who do you end up? What kinda drunk are you, Dekuuu? Sloppy, crying drunk? I-love-everyone-in-this-bar drunk? Adding twenty people to your social media and forgetting who they are in the morning drunk? Leaving indecipherable messages answering machines drunk? Horny—”

“We’ll never know, will we!” Deku said, his voice cracking like a pre-teen as he increased his speed, nearly stepping on the backs of Mina’s platform shoes.

“Didn’t you and Shindo go on a date once?” Kirishima said thoughtfully. “I swear—”

“Nooo nonono,” Deku said quickly, laughing in that weird halting way he had when he trying not to scream with anxiety. “No, not—he’s, he’s very, um, nice. But I don’t think—we’re not exactly—”

“Shindo Yo would eat Deku alive,” Katsuki said casually, pointedly not looking at Deku who had shifting to stare. “He’s probably not your type anyway, am I right? You probably want some asshole who’ll, like, treasure your precious memories and remember all your favorite things and—”

“I don’t want anyone,” Deku said, the sudden hardness in his voice urging Katsuki to look, to make curious eye contact. “There’s—there’s only one person I’ve ever really been interested in, and they don’t even see me. So, whatever type that is. The ignorant dumbass kind.”

Katsuki had barely given Deku the time of day in three years, so he couldn’t imagine what kind of person Deku had been making eyes on these days, but it rankled him to hear it all the same. Was this going to be a problem? Just how much worth would Katsuki put on meeting All Might in person for an entire hour? 

Enough to bang his head up against the wall of the undateable Deku and hope he could bash in a door somewhere.

Katsuki had gone home with Kirishima hundreds of times in the past three years. He was used to coming in with him, taking off his shoes, greeting Deku’s mom as if the woman hadn’t half-raised him for almost ten years, and closing the door on the household in favor of gaming with Kirishima and listening to music. 

Deku had rarely played into those after school plans. Sometimes when Katsuki and Kirishima would take over the living room to watch a movie on the big screen television or whatever, Deku would join them. But he’d often be on his laptop, typing furiously or on his phone, also typing furiously. He was on the internet a lot, and although Katsuki had a passing curiosity for what Deku got upto, it had never been enough to ask. 

Today, however, the four of them got inside, and it felt, well, fucking weird.

“Hello, boys!” Deku’s mom said, a smile on her very Deku-like face as she wandered in with a basket of laundry under her arm. 

When she spotted Katsuki and Mina, she looked even happier, like the guests were so much more fun than her own kids. It was always funny how parents were like that with guests, but it always pissed Katsuki off in his own house, because his mom always made him clean up after his friends and she only ever yelled at him for the trouble they would get into.

“Oh, Mina, don’t you look lovely, what a joy to see you again! Eijirou’s father isn’t home until five o’clock, so you’re safe to stay until then.” Then, expectedly, she turned on Katsuki and beamed. “Katsuki, you look more grown each time you come around! Why, are you painting your nails now? Is that stylish now? My boys only wear sports clothes and I don’t know what kids like you wear these days. It suits you very well.”

Katsuki gave an stiff, tight-lipped smile and a nod, because he didn’t fucking know what to say to that. His nails were black and chipped from Jirou’s insistence like two weeks ago. He just couldn’t be bothered to clean it off. 

“It’s good to see you too, ma’am,” he said. “Thanks for having me.”

Kirishima sputtered a laugh, and when Deku’s mom turned around, Katsuki happily stepped on Kirishima’s bare foot with his own steel-toed boots. 

“Listen,” Katsuki said, smirking as Kirishima comically wailed about the assault, “don’t be jealous that your mom loves me more than you.”

“You’re such an asshole, Bakugou,” Mina said without heat, chucking her mile-high sneakers at Katsuki’s head. 

Cackling with victory, Katsuki dodged the shoe, only to hear an oof and turned to see Deku stumbled over the sneaker as he headed for the stairs.

“Hey!” Katsuki said, ditching his dumbass friends for his previous dumbass friend. He caught up to Deku half-way up the stairs, startled to a stop when Deku suddenly turned around with a confusion written across his freckled face.

“Kacchan?” Deku asked, cocking his head as he glanced between Katsuki and over Katsuki’s shoulder, where Kirishima and Mina bantered and wandered toward the kitchen. “Are you. . .is there something you need?”

“That party,” Katsuki said, suddenly sounding breathless for reasons he absolutely could not fathom. 

Deku stared.

“What party?” he said.

“Shindo’s, for fuck’s sake!” Katsuki snarled, unsure why his face was so hot. He needed to take off his stupid heavy jacket. 

“Oh.” Deku frowned. “What about it?”

“Come with me,” Katsuki said, refusing to break eye contact, even when Deku’s eyes went the size of saucers. 

“I’m sorry,” Deku said, a hesitant smile crossing his face. “You want me to come with you and Kirishima?”

“What, you wanna date your brother too?” Katsuki snapped. “No, dumbass. With me. With me.”

The color sapped from Deku’s face as he tripped back a step, higher up and further away, his hand clutching the banister.

“Wh— you?” Deku asked, voice hushed. Before Katsuki could reply, Deku shook his head, stepping back again. Up and away. “I—no, Kacchan. I’m not—I don’t fall for that stuff anymore. You won’t—you’re not going to make me look like an idiot.”

Katsuki’s face screwed up, his mouth failing him for once.

“An i—wait, what? I don’t—”

“You’re an asshole,” Deku said, his gaze wet and snapping with a fury Katsuki hadn’t seen since they were kids fighting over the same toy. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

With that, Deku spun and sped up the stairs. The sound of his door slamming shut made Katsuki flinch out of the shock. 

Had Midoriya Izuku just fucking turned him down?

***

Long after Mina had left, long after Deku had ignored the dinner table, telling his mom through the door that he had a paper to write, Katsuki stared balefully at Kirishima upon the bed, lounging on his stomach and texting his not-yet-girlfriend with a grating smile. And he was very much not paying attention Katsuki.

“Gonna take a piss,” Katsuki said, getting up to leave. Kirishima didn’t even reply. Lovesick dumbass. 

Padding down the hallway, Katsuki passed Deku’s room and noticed the door open and the room empty. Frowning, he took the stairs back down. He passed the living room, caught Deku’s mom and Kirishima’s dad snuggled on the couch, half-asleep and half-watching a movie. In the kitchen, the refrigerator door shut, and Katsuki followed the sound.

Deku stood at the kitchen island, leaning against it and hunched over a bowl of cereal. With one hand he shoveled the sugar death shit into his mouth and with the other, he held his phone, scrolling something or other. He’d changed into flimsy basketball shorts and an All Might t-shirt, his feet bare, and he wore a half-smile on his face as he looked to his screen.

He looked comfortable and happy and not anxious at all.

Katsuki cast a discerning eye on the surprisingly generous curve of Deku’s ass in the shorts and frowned thoughtfully. He’d never noticed that before.

“Oiy,” Katsuki said, low and quiet so as not to jostle the house. 

“WAH-cchan!” Deku said, whirling with eyes large once more, his smile gone as he dropped the spoon to the floor and stared. “What—you—hello!”

“Hi. . .” Katsuki said slowly, a slow grin spreading as he approached Deku like he was a skittish little animal. “Deku. You shit your pants at every scare or is it just for me?”

“I told you I’m not scared of you,” Deku said quickly, dropping to retrieve his spoon at the same time Katsuki did. They both paused, hidden by the island, the kitchen lights on low, the hum of the television in the distance. Deku held the spoon and stared at Katsuki with a small, stubborn frown and a healthy flush to his cheeks. “You just surprised me. You know I’m not good with surprises.”

“Hey,” Katsuki said, uninterested in the small-talk when he had a mission. “I was serious about going to the party with you, y’know. After getting a glimpse of your nerdy-ass friends, I bet you haven’t had a good rager in your entire high school career.”

Deku didn’t have to know that Katsuki was almost always the designated driver of his crew’s outings. He drank little, but also needed very little incentive to get rowdy. He just preferred to be in control of said rowdiness. But that didn’t sound cool, so it wasn’t like he could say it out loud.

“I might be an asshole,” Katsuki said, when Deku didn’t reply, only stared at him strangely, “but I wouldn’t invite you somewhere if I didn’t want you there. At the very least, consider it a. . .”

“Peace offering?” Deku said, his lips curving, his eyes laughing at a joke Katsuki couldn’t understand.

Katsuki frowned.

“Are we at war?”

He couldn’t remember. They’d stopped interacting for so long, Katsuki hadn’t really felt anything malicious toward Deku in years. That adolescent, pre-teen annoyance with Deku’s awkwardness had faded forever ago.

Deku stared quietly for a moment, still crouched very close to Katsuki. 

“Maybe a cold one,” Deku said, then stood, face turned away so Katsuki couldn’t catch his expression. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I don’t—I don’t date people, Katsuki. And certainly not you. I don’t have a clue why you’d ask someone like me when you’ve always made it clear how you feel about me.”

Shit. Deku wasn’t wrong. Katsuki coming out of nowhere like this looked all wrong and while Deku was a dumbass, he wasn’t stupid. Even with all the years apart, Deku still probably recalled what made him tick. 

Maybe the truth was a better option. Or, a likeness of truth. 

“Fuck,” Katsuki said, leaning back against the counter, hands gripping the edge as he watched Deku wash off the spoon and return to his cereal. “Fair enough. The truth is your shitty brother asked if I’d start including you more. For everyone’s sake.”

Not a truth, not a lie. 

“And,” Katsuki added, once Deku flicked eyes toward him while slowly chewing, “I don’t have a problem with it. You may be a wimpy nerd, but you’re not obnoxious or nothin’. If anyone is, it’s Kirishima. You’re—it’s fine if it’s you. Hanging out with us or whatever.”

With chipmunk cheeks full of cereal, Deku finished swallowing before he spoken with obvious slowness and care to his words.

“Are you. . .saying you want to be friends again?”

“Something like that,” Katsuki said, feeling weird and oddly unhinged inside, like he’d a let go of a balloon onto which he’d been clinging and watched it fly up up up. “What, you don’t wanna be my friend? Everyone wants to be my fuckin’ friend. I am a privilege few receive.”

Deku grinned, and there was that newness to him that Katsuki had caught at the lunch table. Some kind of strength, a backbone he had straightened out after years of bending over backwards for others. It was weirdly. . .cool.

“Kacchan, it was always a privilege to be your friend. You’re the one who ruined it.”

Gawking, Katsuki watched Deku walk away with his cereal and disappear upstairs.

Just how often was Midoriya Izuku going to escape with the last word? And why was Katsuki smiling about it?

***

“You made it!” Shindo Yo swept open the double doors of his expansive house, his stupid white smile a mile wide and his dark eyes glazed with whatever party potion he’d been undoubtedly pumping straight down his throat since the party started two hours ago. “Deku? Dekuuu, you gorgeous motherfucker!”

To the shock of absolutely everybody—Katsuki’s full crew and Deku had brought stupid Todoroki fucking Shouto and his weird stoner friend Shinsou—Shindo swept Deku up in a full embrace, his big footballer’s body swallowing Deku’s surprised squeal whole.

“You said you’d never come back!” Shindo said, laughing out loud and kissing the top of Deku’s fluffy head again and again as Deku struggled for freedom. “You said I couldn’t put my dick near you with even three condoms on and yet! And yet, you stand at my door. Oh boy, we’re going to have a blast to—”

“Keep your nasty hands to yourself, scumbag.”

Katsuki didn’t realize he’d done it until he’d done it. 

But Deku’s wrist was in his hand as Deku stumbled into Katsuki’s body, dislodged from the manslut by Katsuki’s powerful yank. A gasp sounded softly near Katsuki’s ear as Katsuki placed a palm atop Deku’s head and outright shoved him aside, back into their joint group of friends. Shindo’s didn’t smile didn’t flinch—if anything, it only sharpened when he recognized Katsuki in full.

“And look who it is.” Shindo swept one muscled arm out to encompass the open doorway. “Bakugou, I’ve missed you too. When was the last time we partied together? When are you gonna take me up on my offer?”

“In your nightmares,” Katsuki said, stomping through the entrance and into pounding heartbeat bass of the party in full swing. He threw a glance over his shoulder and found Deku, standing there in his uncharacteristically tight jeans that showed off his ass and legs and a plain black shirt that definitely not his own because it clung to his frame like a second skin. “Oiy, you comin’, nerd?”

“Yes!” Deku said instantly, his cheeks going pink as he bolted forward to find Katsuki’s side with the crew in tow. “I—wow, you handled him well.”

“Three condoms?”was all Katsuki said, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

Deku made a face, then laughed helplessly, his shoulders sagging and his smile relaxed, a little bit handsome maybe.

“I don’t know where he’s been. Or I do know and I don’t want any part of it.”

“You’re missing out,” drawled a grating, familiar voice from behind. Shinsou wedged himself between Katsuki and Deku, the long, lanky bastard throwing an arm over Deku’s shoulder as he smirked. “The man’s fingers practically vibrate. His hands are weapons of mass destruction.”

“Nobody wants to hear about your destroyed ass, you fucking freak,” Katsuki said, giving into the full body shove. “Christ, does nobody around here shut up about their sex lives?”

“Maybe because we have fulfilling ones and you’re probably a very repressed virgin,” Shinsou said easily, and then he slipped away into the party before Katsuki could fucking defend himself.

Katsuki was still sputtering with barely-muted fury as he was swept up in the tidal wave of their group and led into one of the living rooms. Furniture was pushed back to the walls and the music was at its crescendo here, shaking expensive portraits upon the walls as the stink of sweat and beer and skunky weed clung to the crowd in humid clouds. Katsuki made a face as he spotted someone drinking a purple concoction from a glass vases. There was a wet spot and flowers soaking the carpet near their feet.

“Well,” Todoroki fucking Shouto said, sidling up beside Deku as everyone dispersed toward their desires, “I’m going to find food. You want?”

“Ah, no,” Deku said, his bare arm brushing Katsuki’s as he seemed to leaned closer to him, “I’ll just stay with—”

“Text me if you need to escape him,” Todoroki said without any kind of tone to tell Katsuki whether it was an insult or a genuine offer of future aid.

“I’ll find you,” Deku said, and then Todoroki was gone too. 

“Hey!” Mina shoved between them before they could exchange a single word. For someone who was a part of the plan to get Katsuki dating the most impossibly pure boy in high school, Mina was currently the antithesis of helpful. “I got shots! Take take take!”

“No thanks,” Deku said at the same time as Katsuki said, “Fuck no.”

Mina blinked between the both of them and burst into a hearty laugh. Merrily, she jammed a shot glass in each of their hands anyway and physically eased the plastic glasses up toward both Deku and Katsuki’s mouth.

“You two are cute, now drink. Consider it a favor.”

“What do I get in return?” Katsuki said.

Mina blinked, her face morphing into a frightening feign of innocence.

“Laid?” she said. “If you play your cards right.”

Katsuki pointedly did not look at Deku as his own face burned enough to warrant a visit from a fire truck.

“Hold on,” Deku said, frowning. “I thought you were dating Kirishima.”

Mina cooed and patted Deku’s curls. Katsuki wished people would stop treating Deku like the group puppy. 

“Oh, Deku, didn’t you know?” 

“Know?” Deku parroted. “Know what?”

Oh, Katsuki realized. Mina had purposely set this up for a guilt reveal all along. He had to start giving her more credit for social prowess. She probably learned a lot from all those shitty teen dramas she watched.

“Well,” Mina said, breathing in a deep sigh that made her huge tits heave in their tiny shirt, and Katsuki rolled his eyes, turned away and downed his shot in one, “Kirishima can’t date unless you do. Your dad told him so.”

“Wh-what?” Deku looked genuinely upset by this and holy fuck, Mina was good . “N-no, no, no one told me. What do you mean unless I date? I’m not interested in—”

“I know.” Mina looked sad for real this time, maybe. “So Kirishima and I can’t openly date. Your dad says that your grades are so good because you concentrate on only school and his are so bad because he’s obsessed with my boobs.”

“I mean,” Deku said, wincing. “It doesn’t sound wrong, but that’s not fair. We’re two different people and what I do shouldn’t dictate—”

“Your dad’s heard it all before,” Mina said, shrugging. “But he was set on it. You date, then we can date. But hey, it’s all good. I’ll take my girls to the dance and we’ll have an amazing night. Now, take a shot!”

Looking absolutely guilt-ridden and morose, Deku took one look at the clear liquid in his cup and downed in with an expertise that left Katsuki’s eyes narrowed.

“Where’s that purple stuff?” Deku muttered, looking around. “It looks good.”

“Fuck,” was all Katsuki could say about that.

***

Katsuki had lost so much tonight.

One, his jacket was gone, his black tanktop the only thing separating him from the writhing mass of disgusting high school kids and their mono and drunk breath and whatever else. Two, Sero and Denki had lost themselves to some freshman college girls who apparently had nothing to do with their pathetic lives that hang at high school parties and creep on young, desperate dudes who could barely handle their dicks right. Three, Kirishima and Mina had jumped into the heated pool and Katsuki hoped they’d drown. Four, Shinsou and Todoroki fucking Shouto were making out in the stairwell and wouldn’t give Katsuki the time of day when he’d tried to ask where Deku had gone.

And five, where had Deku gone?

A rise of cheers suddenly shot through the quaking house like a shock of lighting, whistles and jeers practically jangling the ostentatious crystal chandelier hanging in the foyer as Katsuki scowled and followed the sound. In the entryway of the living room, though, he stopped dead, his knees buckled and eyes wide as the blood promptly drained from his head to new destinations. 

Deku stood on a table in the center of the dancefloor, dancing with no shirt in sight. A high flush stained his cheeks, his pinked lips stretched in a lazy, almost sultry grin, his hands climbing the ridges and planes of his body to drag and grip through his curls, his hair stuck to his temples with a shimmer of sweat as he bit at his mouth and swayed his hips to the drugging, sticky caramel beat of the song. 

Katsuki could not move. Could not think. He should be. He should be moving and yanking him down and and and—

With the suddenly very obvious but previously hidden power of his thick thighs straining against tight jeans, Deku dropped to a squat, arms above his head to stretch pale skin over the curves of his ribs, then rose to a slow, slow stand, his ass jutting prominent with a little jiggle behind it as one of Deku’s legs kept the beat. Deku looked out to the crowd with hooded bedroom eyes, a stray curl dropping over one eye as he full body stretched toward the ceiling in front of the world, his hips swaying and circling and rolling in ways that virgins absolutely should not be able to—

Shindo climbed onto the table, grinning as he dragged big big hands down Deku’s waist. Deku’s scowl was instant, his brows screwing up as he elbowed Shindo in the abs, which seemed to do absolutely nothing to a man who was all muscle and no brains.

Katsuki was already shoving through the collected crowd, placing a hand flat on someone’s face and pushing them out of his path on his warpath to the table. He watched in mute horror as Deku turned on bare feet, pushed at Shindo’s chest, lost his balance and fell into the nothing.

The weight of a Deku in free-fall was surprisingly heavy, but Katsuki caught him with a grunt of effort all the same, cradling Deku in an instant princess hold.

“Kacchan!” Deku said, beaming and unfazed by the fall as he linked arms around Katsuki’s neck as he was carried away. “Did you see me?”

“Everybody saw you,” Katsuki said, shifting Deku in his arms a little, holding him closer to keep from dropping him, then kicking the double front doors open with a foot as he transported Deku into the fresh air. “At least we know what kind of drunk you are,”

“Oh?” Deku was looking up at Katsuki with open, obvious adoration, his fingers playing at the baby hairs at the nape of his neck that left weird fizzles and pops down Katsuki’s spine. “What kind?”

“Life of the party,” Katsuki said, groaning with the weight of Deku’s surprisingly heavy frame as he sat Deku down on the porch bench. “Who woulda fuckin’ thought.”

“Mmhmm!” Deku lounged with a liquid ease borne of booze, both arms slumped over the back of the bench, his legs straight up man-spreading as he lolled his head to the side and grinned at Katsuki beside him. “Sorry I fell for you. On you? On you. Are you okay?”

“‘Course I am,” Katsuki said, scowling as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. Their knees knocked, Katsuki’s jeans black and ripped open, Deku’s jeans mysteriously tight and straining around thighs Katsuki had never previously noticed. “You should stop drinkin’, though. You’ll be embarrassed later.”

“What do you care?” Deku asked, point blank but not mean, only straight forward. His smile was quizzical as he eyed Katsuki’s burning face. “I didn’t even know you’d realized I was still alive.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Katsuki said. “I see you every damn week when I’m hangin’ with Kirishima.”

“I guess,” Deku said, apparently prone to giving in easily when he was like this. “Well, I’m done drinking anyway. I feel—“ Deku burped with his mouth closed and made a face, his cheeks paling as what was probably nausea washed over him. “Yuck.”

“Great.” Katsuki scooted aside enough to put a foot of room between them. “You’re a puker too?”

“I—” Deku dropped his face in his hands, elbows upon his knees. “No. That purple stuff was brutal.”

Katsuki barked a loud laugh. 

“This is why I stick to clear liquors.”

“I hate myself,” Deku said into his hands, sounding like he meant it to. “And what with Mina said—”

“Ignore her,” Katsuki said, instantly annoyed with himself for making the entire plan harder for himself than need be. “Those two are practically in each other’s pockets, anyway. What your dad doesn’t know can’t hurt him, even if it can hurt Kirishima’s grades. We both know he’s in for a sports scholarship by the end of the year. That shit is in the bag.”

“Yeah, but—” Deku burped again, louder, and Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Fuck, ugh, yuck. Should not have eaten sushi for dinner.”

“Deku, for the love of god—”

“But I’m in the way of their fulfillment and happiness!” Deku wailed as he shot up straight, staring at Katsuki with those characteristically plaintive eyes. “Me! Me, who wants everyone to be happy! I’m an awful brother and—”

“You know,” Katsuki said, slouching further into the bench into what could barely be constituted as sitting anymore, “You could just fake date someone, then. For the sake of your dumbass brother, if that’s what will really make you happy.”

“Fake date?” Deku’s entire face was a frown, his expressions almost clownish in their drunken exaggeration. “Kacchan. I know we haven’t talk in a long time, but are you stupid?”

Katsuki shot up in his seat.

“Haaah?”

“Have you seen me?” Deku gestured at the entirety of him with growing vigor, a manic decibel rising in his voice. “No one would one date me for real or for fake! I’m—I am completely—”

“Shindo would obviously date you,” Katsuki said with a raised eyebrow.

“Shindo wants to have sex with me,” Deku said plainly. “ He would have sex with freshly risen bread dough. This isn’t something to brag about.”

“I’ll date you,” Katsuki said.

“And anyway—WHAT?” Deku looked like a ghost, or like he’d seen a ghost, either way worked. “Kacchan, no, I—”

“Why not?” Katsuki said, feeling braver with the new idea now. “I’ll take you to shit, it’s not that hard. You’ll stop hating yourself and drinking purple poison, Kirishima and Mina stop being ultra obnoxious, and I—”

“What would you get out of it?” Deku whispered, leaning in with eyes soaking up the dark of the night. 

Katsuki glanced away, unable to look Deku directly in the eye. 

“I—”

Deku promptly puked all over Katsuki’s lap.

It was purple. 

And he never even gave Katsuki a yes or a no. Fucking Midoriya Izuku would be the early death of him.

***

“Can you take him on a date this Saturday?” Kirishima asked over the phone.

Katsuki scraped a hand through his hair and pressed his brow to open laptop, ignoring the way the letter F went ffffffffffffffffffghhh across his report.

“He didn’t actually reply, y’know,” Katsuki said, eventually. He was genuinely busy right now, but Deku had been skirting him all week at school since the purple puke incident, and if Katsuki was going to meet All Might, he needed to take this dumb fucker out .

Not, like, punch his lights out—although it had been tempting this week—but on a fucking date or whatever.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Kirishima said breezily. “Just call him, Bakugou. Ask him like a normal human being.”

“Since when do you know shit about being normal?”

“Bro,” Kirishima said, which always signaled an incoming nugget of absolute brilliance on the scale of Kirishima, “everyone knows you’re smart and hot and talented—”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Bakugou asked with a smile.

“—but you’ve got the social skills of a bridge troll,” Kirishima finished. “So, for once, take my advice. Deku is. . .a really nice person. He’s not going to say no to you.”

“Why, ‘cause he’s a push-over?” Katsuki said. Something about it itched at the back of Katsuki’s brain, like a sneeze he couldn’t quite reach. It pissed him off, he realized, to think that Deku would only agree to fake-date him or real-date him simply to be nice to Katsuki. Especially when it was obviously Katsuki doing Deku a damn favor. “He’s only gonna say yes to me because he’d say yes to anyone? Including bridge trolls?”

Kirishima laughed without a fucking care in the world. Dumb bastard.

“What, no! He’ll say yes if you ask him because all he wants is for you to be nice to him. You know, if you pass to him, he’ll accept the ball and head for goal by your side or whatever.”

Katsuki gagged. Loudly.

“Holy fuck, dude! How many times have you cracked heads with the opposition? You’re using soccer metaphors to—”

“Just call him!” Kirishima hollered into the phone, already laughing harder. “And once you do, text me so I can plan something the same day. If you take him out earlier, it’ll show my dad that Deku is going on, and then I can take Mina out in the evening. Deal?”

Katsuki hung up on him in lieu of reply.

And he absolutely did not call Deku.

He texted.

>> You free Saturday?

<< A little. What’s wrong?

>> Nothing’s wrong!!! WHY THE HELL IS SOMETHING WRONG? AREN’T I YOUR BOYFRIEND? WE SHOULD PROBABLY GO ON A DAMN DATE BEFORE ONE OF US DIES OF OLD AGE.

<< AHHH SORRY! Saturday? When, where? 

>> I’ll pick you up at 10am. We’ll go to the skate park.

<< WOW! It’s been a long time since we skated together!

>> Don’t piss your pants with excitement or anything. I’ll beat your ass. I’m ridiculously good now.

<< You always were! I’m so excited to see what you can do! Let’s compare tricks. 

>> Only you could make skateboarding nerdy. Shut up. I’ll see you Saturday.

<< See you Saturday!!!

***

Katsuki had gone toe to toe with Kirishima’s dad a dozen times in the past four-ish years, but that had usually been, well, playing soccer outside or tossing a pigskin. Kirishima’s dad had always been peppy and obnoxious and nice, so when he opened the door to Katsuki on Saturday morning, Katsuki had not been expecting. . . that.

“Bakugou,” Mr Kirishima said with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “You’re here for my other son, aren’t you?”

“Uh.” Katsuki blinked, trying to untilt the world from his axis. Parents loved him. This was not the plan. “Yes, I am. We’re just going to go to the skate park and hang. Is he ready?”

Mr Kirishima leaned in the doorway and for the first time in Katsuki’s teenage life, he found himself vaguely intimidated by the aura coming off of Kirishima’s dad. With the neck to feet tattoos and the shaved head bleached white, the guy who Katsuki normally thought was secretly super cool now gave off an aura of shark sniffing for blood. 

“Is this a date?” Mr Kirishima said, not asked. 

“Yeah,” Katsuki said, his ire rising at being treated like he was untrustworthy or some shit. “So what? I like him, he likes me. Deku needs to get a life, y’know.”

“He’s a sensitive boy,” Mr Kirishima said, his dark eyes beady and unblinking on Katsuki. “Kirishima is like rubber, he could always handle you and that’s why I’ve never worried about your friendship. Deku—”

“Was my best friend for almost ten years,” Katsuki interrupted, his skin simmering with the restrain not to go off on some dumb old man trying to tell him shit about the kid he knew better than anybody. “And I was practically his only friend. Deku isn’t scared of me. And you shouldn’t be worrying about the smart kid when your other one walks around with rocks for brains.”

“Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice sounded behind his dad, and when he popped his head around, he looked genuinely confused. “Sorry, did you just say you and Deku were—”

“Sorry I took so long!” Deku said, flushed and flustered and breathing a little hard as he shoved past his father with a well-scarred skateboard under his arm and a smile on his face. “Kacchan, hi!”

Deku seemed oblivious to the tension of both Kirishimas versus Katsuki, all fresh as a fucking daisy and just as bright. He wore jeans that looked like they’d seen better days, riddled with genuine holes, the kinds in the knees from taking too many falls off a board, plus an old All Might shirt in black with a yellow insignia. Around his wrist was a very old black leather cuff riddled with silver studs, something Katsuki recognized as originally Mr Kirishima’s. 

He looked. . .cute.

Katsuki felt his face go up in flame, attention flicking haphazardly between Deku and the Kirishimas before he turned on his heel and jogged down the few stops to the walkway. Turning, he gestured violently that Deku follow, huffing and puffing until Deku fumbled with the realization and waved a cheerful goodbye as he came. 

Both stupid nosy Kirishimas stood in the doorway with mirrored dumbfounded expressions. Despite the bizarre rage of emotions clashing inside, Katsuki went to his go-to smartass sneer and mockingly waved in the cheerful way Izuku had done before he dropped his board to the pavement and stepped up. 

“What just happened?” Deku asked, his smile clueless and stupid cute. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Not cute. 

“Nothin’,” Katsuki said, eyes cast to the cracked pavement as he pushed off on his board and led the way. “Let’s go.”

The skatepark was a distance away. Sure, there was a closer one—before Deku had moved in with the Kirishimas and had lived closer, he and Katsuki had spent seventy-five percent of their daylight hours at their nearby park, busy wiping out and failing complex kick flips they’d still been too young to achieve. 

Katsuki would steal his dad’s phone so they could play All Might instructional videos and the race would be on, an unspoken competition over which of them could nail the next trick. They’d been on kiddo skateboards, then, shorter in length for their builds, but that had been a long time ago, and Katsuki had new tricks to show off, new things to prove to the only kid he’d ever really felt was worthy competition. Maybe Deku felt the same.

So, fuck the old skate park of their youth. They were taking the train to a better one.

Surprisingly, they both found seats together for the tip, laying their boards upon their thighs, overlapping across each other’s laps as Deku took out his phone and got to chatting a mile a minute about All Might’s upcoming launch of boards, including some extortionately-priced signed ones. 

And talking to him felt. . .normal. Katsuki didn’t even have it in him to be annoyed at how normal it felt to fall into their rhythm of push and shove bickering and Deku’s good-natured laugh as he seemed content to relent in every line of conversation unless it involved Katsuki insinuating that he was better at Deku than skating now.

“Put your mouth where your wheels are,” was all Deku said, a playful glint in his eyes that ignited an old spark of the thrill that hadn’t burnt so bright in years. 

“Watch me,” Katsuki said, matching Deku’s grin, his own smile growing feral at the wash of pink that flushed Deku’s cheeks. For a second, Deku looked like he wanted to say something, but then he looked away, smiling and waving at a toddler sitting on his mom’s lap, and the moment was gone.

The park was still relatively quiet upon approach, and Katsuki was glad for it. He wanted to see what Deku could do. And Katsuki—well, maybe he wanted to show off too. Just a little. 

And just like that, the hours flew.  Morning seeped into afternoon, the new autumn sun high and blinding as they one-upped each other, pointed out flaws in each other, suggested new stances and the angle of foot and hips. Deku would drop to a squat, his bony knees scarred and pale through the massive rips in his jeans, his fingers worrying his bottom lip as he cocked his head to watch Katsuki perform the same heelflip over and over from a better angle. 

Katsuki had preening over teaching Deku new things until they’d finally gravitated toward the halfpipe. 

Deku skipped the 180 aerial and went right into frontside 360 aerial and it. . .the surprise took Katsuki’s breath from him like a bad landing. Beaming toward the blue sky like it was the easiest thing in the world, Deku flew up the halfpipe, caught air, turned his board with one hand briefly gripping the edge, and smoothly took to the pipe once more. On the way down, his eyes were all for Katsuki, all puppydog hope like when they were kids.

But what Katsuki was feeling wasn’t anything adolescent. He swallowed hard and realized he was thirsty as hell.

Not for a sports drink.

“Wait wait wait!” Deku yelled, breathless as Katsuki simply stood there, realizing that Deku’s sturdy thighs hadn’t come out of nowhere. “I’ve got another, I’ve got, um—the 180 heelflip! Watch me, Kacchan, watch me!”

Katsuki couldn’t look away if he’d had a gun to his head. With all the ease of a walk in the park, Deku swept through a few 180s, his green hair catching air and sunshine before his happy expression sharpened and he flung himself up the pipe, spun his board beneath his feet, and landed with perfect stability once more.

With a whoop of victory, Deku skidded off the pip, stumbling a little clumsily over his board as he dashed toward Katsuki with a breathless happiness that Katsuki would probably have returned if he wasn’t busy being shell-shocked.

Deku got good. Maybe better than him. 

“Did you like it?” Deku asked, literally bouncing on his heels. “Did you see? I’m still perfecting the backside 540 spin these days, so I won’t do it yet unless I embarrass myself in front of you—”

“You’re an embarrassment no matter what,” Katsuki said hollowly, on automatic.

Deku laughed and dragged a hand through his hair, the gleam of sweat on his brow wiping into his curls and making a few bounce haphazardly in all directions. 

“But did you like it?” Deku insisted, leaning in close, too close, practically glowing. “Did you—”

Katsuki kissed him with a clumsy mash of lips, quick and then apart, his eyes wide with his own shock as he pulled back. Deku’s mouth was slightly parted, his gaze frozen on Katsuki’s face, the air between them charged and snapping.

A sudden blush slammed into Deku’s face as he physically startled, his hand rushing to his lips, eyes frantically searching Katsuki’s for what, for something.

And then, like taking a crotch-drop onto a stairway banister from his board, dread lurched into Katsuki’s gut with a vicious, sickening slam.

“I don’t want anyone,” Deku’s voice echoed in his head. “There’s—there’s only one person I’ve ever really been interested in, and they don’t even see me. So, whatever type that is. The ignorant dumbass kind.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. Deku already had somebody, Katsuki knew this, and he’d just—he’d just—

“Sorry,” Katsuki said tightly, trying to control his breathing so he didn’t look like he was having a mental breakdown in front of stupidly talented, obnoxiously weirdly attractive Deku, of all people. Taking a steadying step back, Katsuki dragged a hand over his eyes, lingering over his burning mouth as he broke eye contact and looked away. “Sorry, I—I know we’re just fake dating. It’s fake , it’s for Kirishima. That was weird. I don’t—I dunno how that happened. Yeah, I—sorry.”

“Wh—” Deku was standing there, staring at him with an inscrutable look, so unfamiliar to not be able to read him, even if they had spent the last four years actively avoiding each other. “Kat—you—”

“I said sorry, didn’t I?” Katsuki shot back, still unable to make eye contact as he slammed a foot on his board and sent it shooting up until his hold. He turned away and walked, gesturing vaguely with one hand as his face burned. “Forget it. Let’s get something to drink. My treat. After that, I’m showin’ you how to work a halfpipe. Loser.”

If there was something more Deku wanted to say, he blessedly kept his mouth shut. They drank silently, watching other skaters filter into the park. Eventually, Deku pointed out one of the more mature skaters, marveling at a trick that he wanted Katsuki to see, and then, somehow, their cadence found a rhythm once more and Katsuki could breathe again.

“I’m starving,” Deku said, sitting on the railing with a pathetic expression. “We should probably head back so I can eat.”

“What, we can’t eat here?” Katsuki said, kicking at Deku’s shoe. The red hightops had the yellow All Might insignia on the sides; very limited edition and very old. They had to have come out when he and Deku were four years old and Katsuki couldn’t imagine how much Deku had spent on them. Katsuki had a room full of All Might shit but he was still jealous.

“I—I mean.” Deku blushed furiously and Katsuki’s heart did a fumbled mid-air spin and collapsed, hard. “I don’t want to take up your entire day—”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki said, aiming a solid glare Deku’s way, because intimidating Deku into doing what he wanted always worked at the end of the day. “Let’s eat.”

They didn’t eat inside anywhere, both of them sweaty and gross. Deku’s elbow was all scabbing up from a fall he’d taken earlier in the day; a long, nasty scrape that he’d simply dumped water over and patted dry with the edge of his shirt before moving on. 

As they leaned against the wall on the edge of an alleyway devouring cheap cheeseburgers, Katsuki nodded at the injury. 

“Clean that shit better when you get home.”

“It’s fine,” Deku said with a shrug. He was holding a burger in one hand and thumbing a text into his phone with the other, his attention divided between that and Katsuki. 

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and he stepped on Deku’s foot for attention.

“Oiy, who you texting?”

“Eiji,” Deku said, pocketing his phone and offering Katsuki a small smile. “I was just double-checking that Dad finally let him out on a date. They’re having a blast, I guess. I’m happy for them.”

Katsuki scoffed and tore into his burger with too much aggression, chewing and glaring at nothing. 

“Why the fuck is his love life so important to you anyway?” Katsuki said, annoyed at the strange sulky tone in his voice. “The two of them would date whether your dad approved or not.”

“I just. . .” Deku crumpled his wrapped into a ball and shoved it into his pocket for lack of nearby garbage can. “People should get to live their lives openly. Everyone. Honesty and happiness go hand in hand, I think.”

Katsuki didn’t actually know what to say to that, so he didn’t. He finished his burger in silence and pocketed his own trash. Without speaking, he stepped up to his board and pushed off. Deku followed.

It wasn’t until they were standing at the station platform that Deku spoke.

“Why did you kiss me?” Deku asked softly, way too softly for the noise of the train station, and staring straight ahead at the awaiting empty tracks. 

Katsuki stiffened, flicking a look to Deku’s profile and lingering.

Honesty and happiness, huh?

“Because I wanted to,” Katsuki said.

Deku whirled to look at him, a great gust of wind sweeping from the approaching train to ruffle his hair into soft, fluffy clouds as his shocked expression met Katsuki’s stern one. 

What, Deku mouthed, but Katsuki couldn’t hear it this time. 

Instead Katsuki leaned in, fingers glancing over Deku’s bony wrist as if to keep him still with just a suggestion of touch, and kissed him softly. This time around barely lasted longer than the first, but it wasn’t such a mess and, for a moment, Deku seemed to lean into it before they parted.

The waves of bystanders swept them into the train and Katsuki didn’t get a chance to see Deku’s reaction, but the damage had already been done. The first may have been an accident, but the second was a choice. Katsuki wasn’t entirely fucking sure why he’d made this choice, but he’d done it all the same and now—now he needed to find out who the hell Deku was stuck on and how much better Katsuki was than them.

The ride back was clogged to the gills, and neither he nor Deku could find the room to even turn around and look at each other from across the crowd of travelers. Katsuki bit back a sigh and glowered at the back of Deku’s head the entire trip home.

By the time the train spit them out and Katsuki could inhale blessedly fresh air, he’d managed to collect his dumb ass and return to a cooler state. Katsuki was cool , wasn’t he? This wasn’t going to rile him, whatever this was.

The autumn breeze caught Katsuki’s hair and kissed his brow, the smell of rain on the horizon as both of them walked side by side, skateboards under their arms in wordless agreement not to use them. Katsuki slipped a sidelong glance Deku’s way, hoping not to look obvious, and found Deku’s expression to be that same unreadable one from before. 

Where had he learned to hide his emotions so well? Katsuki didn’t like it.

“You thinkin’ about that person?” Katsuki muttered, kicking at a rock and glaring when it impacted a lamp post and ricocheted back at him. 

“P-person?” Deku yelped, his entire frame going jerky and high-strung, as if he’d forgotten who he was walking beside. “What—what p—”

“The one person you like,” Katsuki ground out, his back teeth clenched in the failing effort to sound as casual as he could while staring directly ahead. “You said you’re interested in nobody but them or whatever. S’why we’re fake dating.”

Deku’s burst of slightly hysterical laughter was the last thing Katsuki expected. He startled, stopping short on the sidewalk and turning to goggle at Deku.

“What?” Katsuki snarled. “What, what’s so fuckin’ fun—”

“You,” Deku said, smiling now, a sparkle in his eyes. “You, always.”

Katsuki frowned.

“Me always what?”

“Figure it out, dumbass,” Deku said, dropping his board and skating off with a laugh.

Katsuki gawked.

“Hey! Wait, wh—you little shit, wait!”

***

“You need to ask him already,” Kirishima whined as he launched off his bed and landed on Katsuki with like fifty pounds more muscle than Katsuki had. It felt like being hit with a truck, and all Katsuki could do was groan as Kirishima sat on his stomach, crushing important internal organs as Kirishima pouted down at him. “The dance is next week and Mina and I need time to find matching outfits! What have you two been doing together? I only ever see you go to skateparks. Isn’t it time for something more romantic? And isn’t the whole point of this thing getting Deku to go to the dance so I can go to the dance?”

“Are you even thinking about Deku in all of this?” Katsuki found himself asking.

The shock on Kirishima’s face was enough time for Katsuki to lift his hips and send his friend flying. With a groan, Katsuki got to his feet and dusted off his holey jeans, then pausing to place hands on hips and stare down at Kirishima with apparent scorn.

Kirishima looked like a kicked puppy with his belly up.

“Bakugou?” he asked, frowning with sad eyes. “What do you—”

“It’s pretty fuckin’ selfish, y’know,” Katsuki said, holding Kirishima’s confused stare. “Instead of getting better grades like I know you can, you paid me to date Deku like he’s some lost cause who can’t find someone to date if he didn’t want to. And he doesn’t want to . It shouldn’t be your decision or mine that he does.”

Kirishima gasped, scrambling to his feet to wrap arms around Bakugou in a crushing, unwelcome embrace.

“Bakugou, nooo! Nooo, you’re right, you’re so right! What do I do? What do I—”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki said between clenched teeth, shoving Kirishima off and onto the bed. With a scowl, he righted his clothes and checked his hair. “I’ll—I’m gonna ask him, alright? He doesn’t know that this whole thing was planned. It’s not gonna hurt him if I keep—”

If I keep fake-dating him until I convince him we’re real-dating.

There was no way Katsuki wasn’t better than Deku’s mystery person anyway.

“Well,” Katsuki said, folding his arms and looking away from Kirishima’s adoring expression. “It’s whatever. He obviously likes me or else he wouldn’t be dating me—”

“Ohmygod , that’s so cute,” Kirishima whispered.

“—so I’ll just also keep, uh, keep dating him.”

Kirishima’s smile was obnoxious and so was the realization on his face.

“Bakugou. You like -like my brother, don’t you? Oh my god, you like him! I mean, the All Might tickets—”

“I still better get those,” Katsuki snapped, not arguing with Kirishima’s claim. “That shit is mine regardless. And then we—and then him and I will go together anyway. After the dance, when all this shit calms down and you and Mina can stop riding my ass for dates that you two don’t deserve.”

“Deal,” Kirishima said excitedly. “Deku is in his room, you know. No time like the present.”

The stab in Katsuki’s chest absolutely was not anxiety. He snarled at Kirishima’s suggestion and sat his ass down at his desk, spinning slowly in the stupid office chair. 

“He’s friends are in there,” Katsuki muttered, continuing the rotate with light pushes of his toes. “Like hell I’m walking into Nerd Land.”

“What, you’re scared of them?” Kirishima said, smiling a very punchable smile. 

Kirishima’s scream could have probably been heard throughout the house as Katsuki launched the chair across the room.

“You put a hole in the drywall, dude!” Kirishima wailed, standing on his bed where he’s just narrowly missed the impact. “My parents are going to kill me!”

“Put a poster over it,” Katsuki snapped as he stomped out of the room, absolutely not scared of Deku’s stupid friends.

In the same moment, Deku’s door burst open and out flooded an impossible amount of people. Ochako first stumbled into the hall, with Iida bumping solidly into her and sending her against the wall, following by Shinsou, who had a hand on Todoroki fucking Shouto’s collar to drag him out along. Deku scampered out last, holding his hands out strangely until Katsuki distantly recognized his blunt nails were newly painted black like Katsuki’s own. 

“What was that!” Deku squawked, eyes large as he dashed down the hall. “Are you—”

“Kirishima put a hole in the wall,” Katsuki said flatly.

“I DIDN’T,” Kirishima cried, his voice cracking with emotion as he sprinted into the hall in a panic. “Deku, do not tell dad. He’ll—”

“The stuffing in your head might make for good insulation,” Katsuki drawled, flashing a grin over his shoulder. Let his friend suffer a little after his greedy games with Deku. Consider this payback. 

Deku was looking between them in half-shock, half-bemusement, his lips seeming to curve to his own chagrin. 

“Kacchan,” Deku said, “what did you do?”

“Kirishima,” Todoroki fucking Shouto said. “You look like you’re going to cry.”

“I’m fine,” Kirishima said in too high a voice as he disappeared into his room. “I’ll just—I’ll just put a poster over it. Forever. Until my deathbed.”

“Come here for a sec,” Katsuki said, ignoring everyone.

“What’s wrong, loverboy?” Shinsou drawled in that grating, lazy voice. “Can’t we listen in?”

“That your kink?” Katsuki snapped back, eyeing Shinsou’s smarmy smirk from over Deku’s shoulder. 

“Wanna find out?” Shinsou said, outright smiling.

“Shinsou!” Iida said with a scandalized air. “He and Deku are dating, you know.”

“So I hear.” Shinsou didn’t break Katsuki’s steady stare, his creepy gaze unblinking. “Don’t ever see you hang with us, though. Not very boyfriendly, if you ask me.”

Katsuki could feel his hands sweating and that was absolutely not a welcome reaction. 

“Maybe he’s shy,” Todoroki fucking Shouto said, as if he knew a goddamn think about him. When everyone promptly turned to stare at him, he shrugged. “What? Loud people can be shy.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Katsuki said, grabbing Deku’s wrist and promptly pulling him downstairs. “Come on already.”

“Wait!” Deku sounded a little breathless as he followed, colliding with Katsuki when he’d stopped at the bottom of the stairs to turn. “Ow! Kacchan, hey, where are we—”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Katsuki said, because it was the truth. He just hadn’t wanted to ask stupid Deku to the stupid dance in front of all his stupid friends. And with the way Shinsou was weirdly, specifically suspicious of him made Katsuki feel guilty or whatever. It was annoying.

Katsuki wasn’t really doing anything wrong anymore, right? Since he’d begrudgingly realized he kind of definitely was into Deku, the whole dating-for-Kirishima thing was out the window. Yes, Katsuki would still get his All Might tickets, but it was so he could go with Deku like a really cool date or something. And since Deku would never find out how their dating life had originated, there was no problem. Katsuki was solid. They were solid.

“Um,” Deku said, a little quietly. “Are we just going to stand here. ‘Cause everyone—”

Katsuki looked up to find the entire contents of Deku's loved ones standing at the top of the stairs, staring down at them in varied states of curiosity and suspicion. 

“FUCK OFF!” Katsuki yelled before he tugged Deku right out the front door.

Heaving a sigh, Katsuki dropped to sit on the front stoop, yanking on Deku’s wrist until he sat beside.

“Kacchan,” Deku began, slow and careful in his words, “are you okay? You seem a little jumpy, even for you.”

“It’s fine!” Katsuki snapped, folding his arms upon his knees and hunching inward, staring dismally down the path to the sidewalk. It wasn’t just the nerves from asking Deku out. To Deku, they were already fake-dating for Kirishima’s sake. For Katsuki, they were already real-dating for his sake. Of course Deku would say yes. 

It was all the rest of it that felt gross. His conversation with Kirishima and all that. What was the thing Deku had said last week about happiness and honesty? Fuck.

“Hey,” Deku murmured, and suddenly a soothing hand was smoothing down Katsuki’s back, suffusing warmth through Katsuki’s stiff, stressed muscles. “It’s okay. I know this is all a little. . .strange. I’m not sure what you’re specifically upset about, but we can talk it out. If it’s—if you don’t want to do this dating thing anymore—”

“No!” Katsuki jolted upright, knowing he looked way more desperate than was cool. Deku literally recoiled with the shock, even if he did laugh and smile immediately after. “No, I—no, it’s not that I want to—”

“Kacchan.” Deku’s smile was so warm and kind and it made the thorn in Katsuki’s chest dig in deeper to think Deku was the only one faking here, that this was a smile of friendship and nothing more. How had things gotten so twisted in a matter of weeks? “Breathe. You’re going to burst a vein in your eye. Remember when you did that when we were eleven? Everyone thought you had pink eye and no one would talk to—”

“Go to the dance with me,” Katsuki said in a rush.

Deku blinked, a blush blooming over his entire face as he stared owlishly at Katsuki for a long moment.

“I—” Deku sounded breathless and he swallowed, nodding slowly, his movements sluggish. “Sure? If that’s—if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki shot back, aggravated at the very assumption that he would be anything other than fucking thrilled. Didn’t he look happy or whatever? Well, maybe not. But still . “You’re—you’re my boyfriend so—so it’s normal. Totally normal. It would be fuckin’ weird for us not to go.”

“And Kirishima wants to go with Mina,” Deku said quietly, looking down at his hands upon his knees, the matte black paint upon his nails. “It does make sense.”

“Right,” Katsuki said, not giving a single shit about those fuckheads. “Right, that too, obviously.”

“So, um.” Deku bit his bottom lip and delivered a shocking reminder to Katsuki’s pants that they hadn’t kissed since that time over a week ago at the skatepark. Katsuki hadn’t instigated anything weird like that and Deku had seemed entirely uninterested in anything decisively romantically-inclined toward Katsuki. Motherfuck. “What would—what would you wear?”

Katsuki shrugged.

“Black?”

Deku laughed, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little, his eyes finally finally finding Katsuki’s. 

“Why did I even ask? Maybe I’ll wear black too, then.”

“No,” Katsuki said, licking his suddenly dry lips. “You—you should wear color. That’s—it’s more like you. Don’t be stupid.”

Deku’s expression froze for a moment, indecipherable for a split second before he laughed, his smile easy and charming and  sweet again. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll wear color for you, Kacchan.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki managed, wondering what it would be like for Deku to want to kiss him one day. If ever. “Okay.”

***

“Don’t you four look like the picture of loveliness!” Deku’s mom cheered as she took way too many photos with her phone. She was short and kept doing that thing old people did where she kept taking photos of them from a low angle looking up, which would inevitably given them all weird, shadowy face and double chins, but—

But whatever. 

Katsuki was in a black suit, the lapels glinting with metal studs, and his arm was around Deku, who had somehow come up with a very delicately pink fitted suit that looked both sleek and strange, yet somehow the green of his hair and the pink of the outfit really just worked on him. Katsuki didn’t tell him as much, but he’d said, badass suit, and that had to be enough, right?

Both Kirishima and Mina wore matching outfits of purple and black and Katsuki wanted to die just looking at them. 

But he made normal, relatively-nice faces for the photos and waited and waited and waited until they could fucking go already.

Kirishima’s dad insisted on driving them to the school, which in itself was ridiculous because he had a workman’s truck and everyone had to sit in the back of the white van with no windows, laughing and joking about being kidnapped as they went. Even Katsuki couldn’t help but crack a smile as they all spilled out of the back double doors for all to see.

“Let’s party!” Mina hollered, arms to the starry night as they filtered into school with the rest of the arriving students. 

Deku leaned into Katsuki, their shoulders brushing, and Katsuki startled at the motion but quickly recovered, doing his best to make it seem totally normal as he looped his arm with Deku’s and picked up the pace, slightly dragging his sputtering date along.

“Excited much?” Deku said, breathlessly giggling as Katsuki realized he’d picked up the pace a little more than necessary. Katsuki stopped dead in the main entry of the school, decorated with fairy lights and white streamers. 

“I—what?” Katsuki scoffed. “No. Don’t be stupid. These things are just—”

“A hormonal mass of obnoxious ingrates,” Deku said, still smiling and, of all things, taking Katsuki’s hand to thread their fingers. “Yes, I know. It’s fine, though, isn’t it?”

Katsuki’s chest expanded painfully, something bright unfurling inside as he released an unsteady breath.

“Yeah,” he said on an exhale. “Yeah, I mean. It’s fine if it’s you.”

Deku’s smile faltered, a delicate pink the same color as his sakura suit staining his cheeks as he continued to peer up at Katsuki with a suddenly shy expression. 

“Right,” Deku said softly. “If it’s you, I think it really is fine.”

Katsuki’s gaze flitted to Deku’s parted lips, back up, then—

“Wow,” came the distinctly drab voice of Todoroki fucking Shouto, “you two look really nice together.”

Katsuki whirled with a snarl, his hand practically crashing Deku’s as he turned on Todoroki’s calm demeanor directly beside them.

“You nosy bast—”

“Thank you, Todoroki,” Deku said, smiling prettily and whatever. 

“You’re welcome,” Todoroki said. And, as if Katsuki wasn’t huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf beside him, Todoroki eyed Katsuki from head to toe and faintly nodded. “Even though you stomp around like you’ve got the world’s biggest dick up your ass—”

“Todoroki!” Deku gasped and choked on a laugh at the same time.

“—you actually seem to make him happy. So that’s cool. Don’t fuck it up, Bakugou. See ya.”

Katsuki watched Todoroki go and distantly wondered if his entire jaw had detached into order to hit the ground like that. 

“Wh—” Katsuki didn’t know how to make words. He looked to Deku, who only smiled and held up his hands in an exaggerated shrug. “What did—okay. Y’know what? I don’t care. Let’s just get in there already.”

Deku was the one to hook their arms together and urge Katsuki onward, his entire demeanor bracingly cheerful.

“Let’s!”

The dance was like all the other dances Katsuki had attended. Blaring music, sugary drinks, people pre-gaming into drunken oblivion and making fools of themselves on the dance floor, theater kids being weird and gross and dramatic with each other in large, unavoidable groups, and the majority of jocks being chuckleheads in the corner. 

Deku pulled a groaning Katsuki to the dance floor amid his nerdy friends who all seemed to have no problem looking dumb while dancing, and apparently, Katsuki didn’t have a problem following along. Even when his crew rolled up and mingled with Deku’s friends, Katsuki kept dancing. 

It was—it was fun. This was fun. Deku was fun.

So, when the slow dance geared up with an introduction of pastel, dreamy notes and Deku pulled him in, fingers loosely linking at the back of Katsuki’s damp neck, Katsuki only smiled like an absolute idiot and allowed it.

They’d never been this close. Not unless he counted the time he caught an obliterated Deku from a table and carried him out to puke on his lap. Which he did not count at all.

That aside, this was new. Deku’s thigh was nearly between Katsuki’s legs as they swayed and glided in the aimless circle of kids who had no idea how to really dance. Katsuki’s hands flexed in the soft material of Deku’s suit at the small of his back, pressing Deku closer to him, his face bowed to Deku’s raised one.

Every nerve in Katsuki’s body seemed to be screaming in harmony, and yet he found his loudmouth unable to do much of anything at all. This was both bizarre and unfamiliar while totally peaceful and right all at once. Katsuki was reeling, like he’d never stopped spinning from the faster dance they’d first drifted from. 

“I never thought something like this could happen,” Deku whispered, the inherent lilt and sweetness in his voice soothing Katsuki’s swirling thoughts. “I—I know it’s all for show for you, but—but for me it’s—it’ll always be more special than that.”

“D’you really think I’d put myself out like this just for show?” Katsuki said hoarsely, even as the thorn in his chest deepened with the knowledge that only a few weeks ago that was absolutely the case. “That I’d hang out with you just for my stupid friend? Don’t be an idiot, Deku.”

Deku’s features warmed and opened, his smile blooming as his arms tightened around Katsuki’s neck, easing their faces ever closer.

“What,” Deku said, breathless, his chest pressing to Katsuki’s hammering ribs, “what do you—like, you want us to stay friends now? That we don’t—we won’t have to go back to before, when you’d ignore—”

“Sorry,” Katsuki replied tightly, his hands bunching in the fabric of Deku’s suit, no doubt wrinkling it while he didn’t give a fuck. “Sorry, I’m—that’s not what I mean.”

Deku’s expression dropped like a stone and he began to pull away.

“W-wait!” Katsuki yanked him into a fierce embrace, every muscle in his body trembling with the sudden horror that Deku might escape. “ No, nonono, I mean— shit , what do I mean—I mean I don’t give a flying fuck about whatever person you like because I like you and you’re already dating me and you should fuckin’ stay dating me if you know what’s good for you.”

Deku went still in Katsuki’s arms, that blank stare of his returning as he cocked his head. His voice barely carried above the crooning song. 

“Kacchan. . .are you threatening me to date you?”

“Yeah, well—” Katsuki scowled, refusing to release Deku until he got a proper reply. “That’s—you do better with demands than questions. You take forever to answer shit.”

“Kacchan,” Deku murmured, his fingertips fumbling with the baby hairs on Katsuki’s nape and sending shivers down his spine. “I. . .the person that I like—”

“Deku —”

“Is you,” Deku said, his eyes searching, brows drawn serious, mouth sober. “I told you that day after the skatepark, remember? It’s always been you.”

“Wh—” Katsuki choked, then coughed, and cleared his throat, his eyes watering with the sudden very suave inhalation of spit. “Wait, I am the dumbass you were talking about?”

Deku looked almost serene as he smiled, but the mischievous glee at Katsuki’s expense glittered in Deku’s eyes.

“Who else? Dumbass.”

“You little shit!” Katsuki startled as Deku giggled and squirmed from Katsuki’s hold, taking off from the dancefloor like a kid caught in the act of something naughty. Grinning to himself and trying to be mad about it, Katsuki chased. “Get the fuck back here!”

The rowdy crowd sang and danced to an upbeat song that started to belt through the speakers, one of those obnoxious popular ear-worm songs that made everybody lose their mind even when the song was mediocre. Through the bouncing, jumping, and swaying, Katsuki threaded between them, catching flashes of the sakura pink suit or a cheeky smile. 

At the edge of the auditorium, Katsuki caught Deku by the waist from behind, lifting him from his feet to swing him in circle after circle. Deku’s laughter was contagious, full belly laughs of joy that fizzed and popped through Katsuki like childhood, like more than childhood.

A little drunk on the feeling of having Deku for real, Katsuki turned Deku and shoved him against the wall, catching Deku’s gasp with his mouth. The hitching breath skittered on Katsuki’s tongue as he licked past those soft lips, reveling in the way Deku’s entire body instantly arched into his, meeting Katsuki head-on with a whine that Katsuki licked up too. 

They surged against each other, hands diving beneath suits and shirts, Katsuki’s hands inevitably finding Deku’s ass to knead and guide their hips together.

“Bro, no!” Kirishima was plastered to Katsuki’s back, both long arms slapping to the wall on either side of Deku’s head, covering both of them in the most nightmarish idea of a human sandwich Katsuki could imagine. “ Dude, guys! The adults are heading this way and as much as I totally encourage this, it’s super not the right place for it!”

Before Katsuki could even assemble brain power to peel himself off of Deku, his boyfriend was ducking down and sneaking out from Katsuki’s hold and Kirishima’s arm, eyes big and lips swollen as he quickly ruffled at his hair and looked around with obvious guilt written all over his flushed face.

Katsuki wanted to eat him alive. He may have been a virgin, but he knew exactly what he wanted to do to Deku, as soon as Deku allowed him to do it. 

“Oh my god,” Katsuki rasped to absolutely no one as he took a moment to simply stand, facing the wall, his forehead pressed to the blessedly cool surface. He was being so gross. “Pull yourself together.”

With that, he turned and rejoined the party.

Hours later, sweaty and exhausted and stumbling, the four of them stepped out to the parking lot, sighing to the night sky for fresh autumn air. 

Deku’s fingers were loosely entwined with Katsuki's, their hands swinging loosely between them as they walked. The pale pink jacket had been discarded, hanging over Katsuki’s arm as Deku used his free hand to undo his white bowtie and pop the top two buttons of his shirt. He tilted his head, the strong cut of his jaw and line of his pale neck exposed as he aimed an easy, guileless grin toward Katsuki, and the entire world settled on its axis for the first time in a long time.

“Oh!” Deku exclaimed, releasing Katsuki’s hand as he quickly patted down his pockets and peered back toward the school with a pout. “I think my phone fell out of my pocket. I’ll be right—”

He was already off, wandering a little with his gaze toward the ground in search.

“I’ll help him,” Mina said cheerfully, dashing off across the parking lot in dangerously bare feet, her ungodly high heels hooked from her fingers.

“What a night,” Kirishima said, leaning against the hood of what was probably a random teacher’s car, watching the parade of students journey away from the school. “I think I’m in love, y’know.”

“I’m sure,” Katsuki said dryly, joining his friend against the hood. He didn’t necessarily doubt Kirishima; he just wanted to see the guy stick hard to something that wasn’t just sports. Maybe Mina would be it. That would be nice for them or whatever. 

“You too,” Kirishima teased, lightly elbowing Katsuki’s ribs. At Katsuki’s surly grunt, Kirishima’s demeanor sobered. “I didn’t realize about the two of you, y’know.”

“What about us?” Katsuki muttered, staring at his shoes. 

“That you’d been friends all that time. You never said anything. You acted like you barely knew him.”

“Wasn’t your business,” Katsuki said.

“I guess,” Kirishima said, not sounding entirely convinced. “But I don’t—I don’t think I’d have pushed you into dating Deku if I’d know you two had a history to mess up.”

“It had already been messed up for a long time,” Katsuki said with a sigh he couldn’t quite help. That had been on him. Nothing to do about it now. 

“Maybe,” Kirishima said, looking to the sky. “But you two have history and me bribing you to date your ex-best friend? That was fucked up. I’m—I don’t know how to make it up to you, really. It was dumb, even for me.”

“Just gimme the fuckin’ All Might tickets,” Katsuki said, eking out a smile, only half teasing as he glanced at Kirishima’s grinning face. “For all this mess, it’s the least you owe me.”

“I probably owe you more than that for forcing you to date Deku, Kirishima said, laughing now. “I’m really an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Sure,” Katsuki agreed easily. “But I agreed to it, too. That makes me almost as stupid as you.”

“And what,” Deku’s voice said from behind, thick and wet and apocalyptic as the two whipped around, “does that make me, Kacchan? How stupid does that make me ?”

The floor dropped from Katsuki’s feet, his guts splattering along as he stood frozen on the spot in silence and shock.

“Deku,” he managed.

“I knew it,” Deku said quietly, stepping up to where Katsuki and Kirishima stood. “I knew it was wrong right from the beginning and I still let it happen.”

“No—”

“You paid him?” Deku demanded of Kirishima, his face flaring up red in the night shadows, his eyes glimmering bright with unshed tears. “You paid him to go near me in the first place just so you could get your dick on, Eijirou? Well, fuck you.”

The tears had spilled now, overflowing and heartbreaking in their despondent fury as he turned to Katsuki.

“And fuck you too, Bakugou Katsuki. Fuck you for being such a—a heartless piece of shit, just as bad as everyone else you look down your nose at.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Katsuki rushed in, an icy panic jumbling his words and shaking his knees as he stood before an incensed, imploding Deku. “Not—not later, not when—”

“I really must be the stupidest out of all of us,” Deku said, and the way his voice cracked in half with tears also broke Katsuki’s heart in two. “To think that you would ever look at me again like I was more than just some ugly little bug to bully. To think that you might like me as a person again. To think that I wouldn’t have to chase you because maybe you wanted to chase me too, just a little. To think you—you—”

“Deku,” Katsuki whispered, harsh and vehement as he reached out. “Don’t—”

Izuku slapped Katsuki across the face and the sting felt like nothing, nothing at all when everything else hurt so damn much.

“To think,” Deku said, his voice quivering but staying strong, “that I trusted you with anything about me was a mistake I’ve now made twice in my life.”

With that, Deku strode off into the dark, toward the groups of teens heading for the train station. He turned, walking backwards, his face pale as the moon and just as cold.

“It’s not a mistake I’ll ever make on you a third time!” he called, stomping Katsuki’s heart beneath his heel. “Goodbye.”

Goodbye.

***

Katsuki was playing a horrible football season.

He knew it, the school knew it, Todoroki fucking Shouto knew it. But no one said it. No one that really mattered, anyway. And since no one mattered, there wasn’t anyone’s nasty whispers or outright heckling that could shift Katsuki from the grey, meaningless daze of his everyday existence.

He’d been sidelined more times in these three games than he had in his entire other three years of football. Either for his heart and concentration not being in it, or for going ballistic on the opposition when they slammed him wrong. Hell, he’d got head-to-head with Todoroki last week, and that had been a fucking disaster that led to them both called off the field and sat at far ends of the bleachers to nurse their wounds with ice packs and sulking silence.

And none of it mattered. Katsuki was ready to quit, anyway. He only played sports to, as his dad said, release his aggression. He liked being better than others at whatever he did, but even that brought nothing to his life, and so he’d stopped putting in the effort.

Katsuki did not visit Kirishima’s house. For the first time since early freshman year, they did not hang out after school. They met in front of school, they walked to classes together and talked at their lockers, but the guilt that hung over them both almost entirely muted the relationship they had before.

Kirishima said that Deku was rarely home. He often stayed with his friends, even slept over at their houses for nights on end. Their parents let him because they understood Deku was going through his first ‘breakup’ and needed to deal with it in his own way. Surrounding himself with friends could hardly be a bad option.

When Deku was home, Kirishima reported, Deku was. . .kind. 

Distant and kind with his numbskull brother. Deku took Kirishima’s apologies with grace—after a good ten days of cool-down, anyway. He claimed to understand where the harmless idea had originated, and that he could see Kirishima hadn’t meant any initial insult toward Deku, nor had he known Deku’s history with Katsuki. 

And with Katsuki. . .Deku was a fucking ghost. It was like he had never been, and no matter how much Katsuki searched Deku out in the beginning, Deku was apparently on guard enough that he managed to avoid the hunt every fucking time.

Eventually, Katsuki gave up. He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He knew that he didn’t deserve forgiveness, nor did he deserve Deku’s company in any context ever again.

Despite being the one to push Deku away all those years ago, Katsuki was now the one who was beginning to realize how Deku had felt back then. It was devastating, and everything hurt.

The air screamed from Katsuki’s lungs as someone mountainous from Shiketsu High sent his body wailing across the field and into the grass. Dazed and too numb to care about it, Katsuki wandered to the sidelines when he was called back by his furious coach. Thudding to the bench, Katsuki yanked off his helmet and tossed it carelessly to the grass. 

Dismally eyeing the heaving masses of high school crowds beneath the blinding bandstand lights, Katsuki drank from his water bottle and stared past the game, over to the opposite bleachers where Shiketsu High sat. 

The bottle dropped soundlessly to the ground as Katsuki spotted a small, familiar figure standing over there in UA High colors. His heart hiccuped and took his breath.

He hadn’t physically seen Deku in over three weeks.

Deku was sitting in the stands with Shindo , of all people. Shindo, who had originally hailed from Shiketsu but transferred two years ago to UA, his obnoxious ass chatting away the people who were obviously his old schoolmates. 

Why was Deku standing with him?

Then Shindo leaned in to whisper something in Deku’s ear and Deku—Deku looked upset. Uncomfortable.

Katsuki saw red.

Saw nothing but Deku, yards and yards and yards across from him with a violent football game thundering between them like mighty gods at war. 

Katsuki got up and walked onto the field and he kept on walking. There was yelling from one direction or another, but Katsuki barely noticed and didn’t care. Adrenaline surged through him, roaring in his ears as he neatly dodged a player nearly backing up into him. 

Deku looked around, probably noticing the hollers of warning on the field, and then—

Across the hundreds of feet, their eyes locked. Deku’s eyes widened and something—something in his face told Katsuki to run.

So he ran. Broke into a bolt and swerving with a quarterback nearly bowled him over by accident, and kept running as he heard the referee’s whistle scream through the cacophonous air. 

And then Katsuki’s heart leapt into his throat because Deku was stumbling down the stands, shoving rudely between innocent bystanders, his gaze fiercely stuck to Katsuki’s even as he hopped to the ground and dropped into a dash from his side of the field. 

They didn’t meet in the middle. Katsuki made it more to Deku’s side than anything, and that’s how it should have fucking been. Katsuki all but clothes-lined Deku’s little body as he swept him up, spun him, listened to Deku cry and curse him out, and altogether refused to let go while the entire crowd went wild.

“I’m sorry,” Katsuki said, releasing Deku only to hold Deku’s blubbering face in his hands, their foreheads pressed together, Katsuki’s voice a fierce rasp of emotion. “I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Deku. I l—I love you, I loved you that first date, I loved you probably before that and I didn’t have a goddamn clue because I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot, right? I’m a piece of shit, right?”

“You are!” Deku cried, both bubbling with a laugh and wiping at his tears with the backs of his hands as Katsuki dove into kiss at his palms, his fingertips, his eyebrow, his nose, wherever he could manage. 

Fuck looking cool. Fuck all these selfish assholes. Katsuki was a selfish asshole too, just as bad as the rest of them, but he had one thing no one else could have. 

He had Deku. He had to have Deku, if he was worth anything as a man.

“You’re an absolute piece of shit asshole, Bakugou Katsuki,” Deku said, his cheeks soaked and his eyes shut to Katsuki’s frantic attention. “And I’m going to kiss you once I’m done crying and then I’m gonna beat the crap out of you!”

“Awesome,” Katsuki said with a wet laugh, yanking Deku into a crushing embrace, his face buried into Deku’s fragrant curls. “Badass plan. Beat the shit outta me. I deserve it. I’ll even tear up my All Might tick—”

“Kacchan, no!” Deku jerked back, looking affronted as all hell. “Do you have brain damage from your bad season?”

“Ouch,” Katsuki said, smiling like a lunatic.

“Don’t you dare rip that up! You are taking me to that meet-and-greet and then you’re buying me the most expensive skateboard available.”

“Anything,” Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around Deku’s waist to the sounds of cheering. He leaned in, nose brushing Deku’s red, sniffly one as they gravitated toward a kiss. “Anything, if it’s you.”