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There’s a lollipop on Izuku’s desk.
Izuku glances around. Nobody’s giggling at him so this probably isn’t a middle school-era prank, although he isn’t sure what kind of prank involves giving out free sweets. Gingerly, he picks it up. It’s watermelon flavoured. “Kacchan? Did someone leave this here?”
Kacchan turns around. He’s blowing bubble gum obnoxiously loudly. Izuku resists the urge to poke it with his finger. “Yeah. Me.”
“For me?”
“Obviously. Stopped by the vending machine earlier.”
“Oh.” Pop, goes the bubble. “Thank you.”
“Whatever.”
He turns away again. Izuku inspects his candy close-up. It’s just a normal lollipop, nothing special, but he doesn’t think Kacchan’s ever just given him something before. Not since they were little kids, anyway. In fact Kacchan’s more likely to take things. He used to just waltz over and pick stuff out of Izuku’s lunches. Izuku’s lost countless octopus weenies to him.
Well. He has been a little nicer ever since that fight at ground beta. Less outwardly hostile, at least, even if he is still sort of rude. Last week he actually sat down to watch a movie together. He heckled it the whole time, sure, but he didn’t throw any popcorn at Izuku or try to change the channel halfway. And the week before that he made them both coffee. He made fun of Izuku for adding four sugars and Izuku told him to shut up, to his face. That would have gotten him blown up three years ago. This time Kacchan just snorted and kept talking. It was exhilarating. Izuku still feels like he cheated death.
Maybe they’re becoming normal, Izuku thinks as he pockets his new candy. They’re becoming regular classmates with slow, clumsy steps, learning to coexist without wanting to immediately beat each other up on sight. Izuku can pass Kacchan in a hallway without expecting to get shoved in a locker. That’s definitely progress. Objectively sad, yes, but at this rate they might actually be classified as friends.
That’s a nice thought. It’s a thought that makes Izuku smile to himself like a lunatic, humming to himself after class and skipping back to his room to roll around in bed. Kacchan doesn’t hate him. Izuku doesn’t hate him either. Kacchan’s being nice to him, on purpose, without anyone forcing him to be polite. Maybe he should have fought Kacchan earlier. He’d have gotten his ass kicked, sure, but maybe it would have gained him some respect. Kind of like his aunt’s Pomeranian. It hates Izuku’s guts and barks at him constantly, but he smacked it with a rolled-up magazine once and it hasn’t tried to bite him since.
“When did you get so bad at physics?” Kacchan says on a Wednesday after class, looking over Izuku’s shoulder to inspect his test score. “Look at that. Ten points lower than last time. You’re a disgrace.”
Izuku holds his answer sheet protectively to his chest. “It’s not that bad,” he says mulishly. “It’s just forces. The math’s hard, sue me.”
“Stupid,” Kacchan says. “Common room, now. I’m already tutoring the other idiots, you’d better join too.”
“I don’t need your help. I can study.”
“I will physically drag you there. Don’t test me.”
Izuku goes. They end up sitting on the floor around the coffee table, Kirishima and Kaminari busy looking for snacks while Kacchan mutters about applied mechanics and flips through Izuku’s quiz. “Told you it was just that section,” Izuku says, chin in his hand. “I got full marks on the essays.”
“Shut up,” Kacchan says on autopilot. Izuku puts his head on the table and sighs. Kacchan even frowns when he reads, he notes absently. Not in a particularly angry way, though. Just a slight furrow to the eyebrows and downturned mouth, making him look less unhappy and more serious and brooding. He’s handsome. Always has been, Izuku supposes, when he’s not making those awful goblin expressions. Idly, he stares at Kacchan’s lips, wondering if they feel as soft and pouty as they look. He must use a lot of Chapstick. Probably tastes like it, too, the strawberry type with the pink tint.
He reaches out to touch without thinking. Kacchan scowls at him. “What?”
“I,” Izuku says intelligently. His finger hovers around Kacchan’s face. He’d been about to just – “Uh.”
“You need something?”
“No,” Izuku squeaks and yanks his hand back. Kacchan raises an eyebrow but goes back to reading. Izuku’s heart tries to escape his ribcage. “I, uhm, bathroom. See you in a bit.”
He does not go to the bathroom. Instead he runs up the stairs to the girls’ dorms, skidding in front of Uraraka’s door to barge in without knocking. “Is it normal to think your friend is really handsome and you want to touch his mouth and also maybe kiss it with your own mouth?” he says all in one breath.
Uraraka lowers her arm. She’s decent, thankfully, but she’d been just about to throw a dumbbell at his head. “Don’t scare me like that, god.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re letting the AC out. Also, what?”
Izuku steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Uraraka’s lying on her back in bed, reading a shoujo manga. “I just realised Kacchan’s handsome. He was minding his own business and I tried to touch his lips. Am I a pervert?”
“Why’d you try to touch his lips?’
“They looked nice,” Izuku says helplessly. “I don’t think he noticed but I seriously thought about kissing him for a second and I’m pretty sure that’s not normal? Am I gay?”
“That’s a little gay, yeah,” Uraraka says, sitting up. Izuku flops into a boneless, dramatic heap on the floor and helps himself to the chips on her low table. “I think it’s normal to notice someone’s attractive, though. Like, Bakugou is good-looking, unfortunately, so I doubt it’s all that weird to think about kissing him a couple times. Do you like him?”
“I,” Izuku says and then pauses. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a crush before.”
“Can you imagine going on a date?”
Izuku considers this. Whatever time he spends with Kacchan tends to be casual and short, mostly chatting about training or doing some everyday activity in the same space. A date would be different. They’d get dressed up, for one thing. Maybe Kacchan would wear a nice button-down, and he’d buy Izuku flowers. They could go out to eat somewhere or Kacchan could make something from scratch, something they can share, sitting close together at a tiny table, hands brushing and eyes meeting as Kacchan lifts his fork to Izuku’s mouth and Izuku would let Kacchan feed him and Kacchan would brush some hair behind his ear and they’d lean closer and –
“Hrkl,” says Izuku.
“Oh dear,” says Uraraka.
Izuku goes back downstairs. Kacchan looks up when he enters, halfway through explaining perpetual motion to Kaminari. “What happened to you? You fall asleep on the can or something?”
Handsome, says Izuku’s terrible traitor brain. “No. I, uhm, ran into someone and stopped to chat.”
Katsuki makes a face. “Well sit hurry up and sit down. We’re gonna start on the questions you keep fucking up.”
Izuku sits. Kacchan smells like candied ginger. Probably his shampoo. “Thanks for tutoring me.”
“No point in me beating you if you’re not at the top of your game,” Kacchan says flippantly. “Look at page 294. I’m going to explain it so pay attention.”
“Paying attention to you won’t be a problem,” Izuku sighs but doesn’t try to explain what he means.
Okay. So. Well. This is a new and unforeseen problem.
Izuku watches Kacchan bench press a hundred-kilogramme barbell. His tank top makes his biceps fantastic, bulging and veiny and capable of tossing Izuku across the room. It’s frankly shocking he never noticed before. Now noticing is all he can do. The idea of liking Kacchan’s in his head and won’t leave, so Izuku’s pretty much stuck at the mercy of his poor homosexual heart. He can’t tell Kacchan to stop being attractive either. Their fledgling friendship is still fragile and tumultuous, which means confessing his weird baby crush would be social suicide. Literal suicide, possibly. Kacchan won’t take too well to the thought of dating Izuku of all people.
Next to him, Uraraka’s doing one-handed pull-ups. “Take my water if you’re thirsty.”
“Don’t expose me,” Izuku hisses. “It’s not my fault he’s doing that.”
“Doing what? Existing?”
“You’ll never understand.”
“No, I won’t.” Grunting, she finishes her last pull-up and lands on her feet, flyaway hairs sticking to her sweaty face. “Why don’t you go talk to him? You’re friendly now, right?”
“Barely.”
“Ask him out.”
“Absolutely not. It took years to get him to tolerate me, I’m not losing all that progress just because I think he’s cute.”
Uraraka sighs and takes his dumbbell out of his hand. He’s been holding it without doing anything for the past five minutes, he realises abruptly. “Are you sure you like him and this isn’t just you getting excited about him being nice to you for once?”
“It’s not like I’m attracted to niceness, specifically,” Izuku frowns. He glances at Kirishima, who’s in the middle of spotting Kacchan. “Kirishima’s nice and I don’t have a crush on him.”
“That’s not what I meant. Look, you don’t have to ask him out, necessarily. Just, I don’t know. Flirt with him a little.”
“I can’t do that!”
“Why not? You’ve been pining after him for a week now and it’s honestly kind of gross.”
She gestures for her water bottle. Izuku hands it over, wounded. “Liking boys isn’t gross.”
“Liking Bakugou is gross. You have to pick one, Deku-kun. Either make a move or stop subjecting me to monologues about how soft his hair looks.”
“It’s like silk,” Deku sighs dreamily. “Anyway, I don’t even know how to flirt.”
“Compliment him.”
“I do that all the time!”
“About his looks. Or try pick-up lines.”
“He would kill me.”
“Or date you. Could be worth the risk if you really like him.”
Izuku considers this. “He is really cute.”
“Again, ew.”
“Maybe I could try it,” he says thoughtfully. “If he gets mad I can just play dumb.”
“A talent of yours,” Uraraka says cheerfully.
Izuku decides, very generously, not to take offence at that. “I don’t think it’ll work, for the record. He’s Kacchan, and I’m me.”
“Oh, Deku-kun. Don’t sell yourself short, okay? You’re a great catch.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she says and pats his cheek kindly. “I promise. There’s lots about you to like.”
He deliberates for a long time.
Well. It’s less deliberating and more rolling around in bed internally screaming, but the image of taking Kacchan out on a date gets even more appealing every time he considers it. Feelings drown out reason. Kacchan as a boyfriend overpowers Kacchan murdering him in his sleep, and Izuku stares at the ceiling and thinks that All Might was right about him having a death wish.
He comes downstairs sleepless and buzzing. Kacchan’s shuffling around the kitchenette making coffee, still in his pyjamas and wonderfully rumpled. His hair’s sticking up in all directions. It’s adorable. Izuku has to reign in the terrible urge to run over and ruffle it.
“You look nice,” he says instead. The coffee machine hisses and steams.
Kacchan grunts. He’s clearly still half-asleep. He’s all squinty and there’s a crease on his cheek from the pillow. “You making fun of me?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Fuck off,” Kacchan yawns and bumbles back upstairs. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut at how cute Kacchan is in the morning. He even bumps into a sofa on the way, grumbling and kicking it like he can make it apologise.
He didn’t kill him. Izuku complimented him and Kacchan just let him.
Uraraka was right. Uraraka’s a genius, and this means Izuku can give in to his heart’s desire and tell Kacchan all the nice things he’s thinking. Maybe Kacchan won’t mind Izuku asking him out. Maybe he’ll even say yes, once he gets used to the idea that Izuku likes him.
“You’re amazing,” he says during lunch.
“You look really cool blasting yourself through the air like that,” he says after practical training.
“I think it’s really admirable that you try so hard to be good at what you do,” he says when Kacchan throws a tantrum after losing Mario Kart.
Kacchan just ignores him. Izuku watches him chase a cockroach, chin in his hand as he picks at his dinner. “Does he not like me complimenting him?”
Uraraka reaches over to steal a gyoza. “If he didn’t like it I think you’d know.”
“Why won’t he acknowledge it?”
“You’re the one who said you compliment him all the time,” she says with her mouth full. “Maybe he’s just used to it. It’s not as impactful.”
“Impactful.” Kacchan loses the roach. He shrieks after it like a banshee, brandishing his slipper like it’s a war hammer and he’s a vengeful god. “So I should step up my game.”
“You should step up your standards.”
“Okay,” Izuku says thoughtfully. “Flirting. Yeah. I’ll try it.”
He makes his move in the middle of training. The adrenaline makes him brave, and also they’re surrounded by classmates who will rescue him if Kacchan goes ballistic. He sidles up to him, pulse racing, trying to look nonchalant. “Say, Kacchan. Did it hurt?”
Kacchan grabs him by the collar so fast Izuku swears his neck creaks. “You saw that?”
Izuku dangles like a puppet. “Saw what?”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Kacchan snarls. Izuku’s stunned to notice the tips of his ears are pink. “It’s the fucking rubble all over the place. A wire or something tripped me.”
“It – oh.” There’s dust on his knees. Izuku has the sudden, wonderful mental image of Kacchan falling over in full costume. Flat on his face, gauntlets flailing to try to keep him upright. “No, I – I was going to say when you fell from heaven.”
Kacchan blinks. “I’ve heard that one.”
“You have?”
“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, Lucifer,” Kacchan says, releasing him with bad grace. Izuku stumbles to catch his feet. “Kaminari said it. You can’t fool me, fucker.”
Izuku chokes on a laugh. “That wasn’t where I was going with this.”
Aizawa calls on the next pair to start the rescue simulation. “Whatever,” sniffs Kacchan, trying to cross his arms before remembering his gauntlets are in the way. “See how you like it when I try one of those dumb jokes on you.”
“I’d love that,” Izuku says honestly. Kacchan punches him, but only slightly, so he chalks that one up to a win.
“Say, Kacchan, how do you feel about raisins?”
Kacchan doesn’t look up from his Biology textbook. “Decent. Good for iron and fibre but relatively high calories for their size.”
“Okay, well, what about a date?”
“Comparable, probably better. Similar calorie profile with possible added benefits for brain health. They haven’t done enough human studies to confirm that, though. Why?”
Izuku considers, very carefully, how to answer this. “I was going to ask if you wanted one.”
“Not hungry. If you’re finally trying to curb your sweet tooth this is a good start. You can’t go overboard with these, though, fruits still have sugar in them.”
“Well –”
“You’re best off with a mix of fruit and nuts. Not too much fruit juice,” Kacchan says, snapping his book shut and standing up. “Come here. I’ll show you some good serving sizes to start with.”
Izuku allows himself to be dragged along by the arm. “Wait, Kacchan!”
“What?”
“You,” Izuku says stupidly. Kacchan’s holding his wrist. Any lower and they’d be holding hands. “Uh.”
Kacchan rolls his eyes. “Dumbass. Stop gaping at me and come on. We’re drawing you up a meal plan.”
“I have a meal plan.”
“Not a good one. I’ve seen what you eat. Are you coming or not?”
Izuku looks at his limp wrist in Kacchan’s hand, face going warm. “Uhm. Alright. Yeah, okay.”
“You have pretty eyes,” he says, face on fire.
Kacchan pauses in doing his warm-up stretches. Izuku ambushed him before his evening run, hoping to talk to him and also maybe admire him in leggings. “Huh?”
“Your eyes. They’re a great colour,” Izuku forces himself to say out loud. “And, uhm, they’re sharp? Striking. They’re just really nice, that’s all.”
“Not like I’m responsible for ‘em. They’re just the same as my mom’s.”
“I like them.”
Kacchan squints. “You like my mom’s eyes?”
“What? No!”
“She’s taken asshole. You can’t make a move on my mom, what the fuck.”
Izuku wrings his hands. “I’m not making a move on your mom! I mean, she’s a cool lady but she’s really not my type?”
“You stop hanging around fucking Kaminari,” he hisses. Izuku goes cross-eyed trying to focus on the threatening finger being shoved in his face. “I should have never let that dumb bastard into my house. He won’t shut up about how hot he thinks my mom is, it’s fucking creepy.”
“I’m not lusting after your mom. Anyway I’m pretty sure I’m gay?”
“Oh.” Huffing, Kacchan withdraws his finger and goes back to stretching. Izuku tries to melt into the floorboards and disappear. “Well stay away from my dad too.”
“Oh my god.”
“Also it’s cool.”
“Huh?”
“That you’re gay or whatever.” Kacchan’s not looking at him but his tone is deliberately casual, face passive as he brings one knee up to his chest. “You like who you like, it’s not a big deal. Don’t let anyone give you shit for it. If they do you can send them to me.”
Izuku feels his heart clench. “Oh,” he says, hushed and delighted. “Kacchan, thank you. That’s so nice.”
“Whatever. None of my business who gets in your pants.”
“Well. You’re, uhm. The one person I’d want to know.”
“Oh. Okay, cool,” Kacchan says, voice sounding oddly thick. He ruffles Izuku’s hair. “I’ll, uh. I won’t tell anyone. Don’t worry. Secret’s safe with me.”
“This isn’t working,” Izuku says, lying flat on his face. “He has no idea I’m flirting with him. I even said the word date.”
Uraraka continues painting her nails. “You know he’s stupid. Maybe you have to be more explicit.”
“I’m not trying to harass him.”
“Explicit as in obvious.”
Izuku groans. “I can’t handle the idea of being upfront. It’s a hurdle just talking to him without barfing.”
“Same.”
“Anyway,” he says, rolling onto his back. Uraraka’s bedsprings creak under him. “I don’t even know if he likes boys.”
“So ask him?”
“Oh, sure. Just like I can just ask him out? Be realistic. This is Kacchan we’re talking about, he’s volatile.”
“Why do you like him again?”
“He’s being nice,” Izuku says, throwing his arms and legs up like an excited, overturned turtle. “You know how awful he was two years ago? Yesterday I asked him to train with me and he said sure. It was fun. We joked and spotted each other like regular people. Sometimes he’s about to say something mean and I can see him catch himself. And he’s nicer to everyone else, too. His character development is astounding.”
“You make me so sad.”
“He’s growing,” Izuku insists. “He’s trying. He’s actively trying to change. I told him to respect me and he’s finally listening. That just makes me really happy.”
“You deserve to have people treat you nicely,” says Uraraka patiently. “But if you want him to see you romantically, I think you have to tell him. He’s used to you being nice to him and you’re not making your intentions all that clear. He won’t figure it out on his own.”
Izuku groans. The glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to Uraraka’s ceiling shine faintly green in the evening sun. “I’m a coward.”
“You charged at a rampaging robot and broke both arms to save me. You’re not a coward. That being said, if you don’t ask him out I’ll do it for you.”
“No.”
“Then do it,” she says, primly screwing the top back onto her nail polish. “I’m sick of you languishing here like a Victorian heroine. You have a week before I spill the beans.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” she says, smiling sweetly. “I won’t speak to you until you do. Get to work.”
Uraraka gives him the evil eye from across the common room. Do it, she mouths.
Iuzku resolutely does not watch Kacchan flip pancakes. No.
I’ll tell him.
Don’t you dare.
Then hurry up.
It’s nine a.m on a Sunday. Most of their classmates are still asleep and the rest are milling around downstairs. Kacchan’s making breakfast. For everyone, judging by the tower of pancakes beside him, although he won’t say as much. He didn’t stop Kirishima from inhaling a few. Izuku sorely wants to ask for some but Kacchan looks so peaceful that he doesn’t want to interrupt.
“Hey, Bakugou,” says Uraraka.
Izuku throws a pillow at her. Kacchan grunts and looks up. “What?”
“Nothing.” She bats her eyes and skips off to fiddle with the TV. Tick tock, she mouths over her shoulder.
Swallowing, Izuku sidles up to the one of the barstools and sits down at the counter. Kacchan puts a plate in front of him without needing to be asked. “Syrup’s in the fridge. There’s honey too. Remember to eat fruit.”
“Thanks, Kacchan,” Izuku says hesitantly. “That’s, uhm. Very sweet. Like you.”
“I keep telling you my sweat’s not actually nitroglycerine, it’s just similar,” Kacchan sighs. “It doesn’t taste like sugar so stop asking.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Big brown eyes peer at him from over the back of the sofa. Izuku whines under his breath. Kacchan scrapes the bottom of his bowl for more batter, snorting when Izuku melts sadly onto the counter. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been weird all month.”
“Have not.”
“Have too. You’re all jittery and gross. You stare at me all the damned time and when I touch you you freeze up.”
“I don’t!”
Kacchan pokes his forehead. Izuku goes still, heart fluttering stupidly in his chest. “See,” Kacchan says, trying hard to sound flippant. “You know if you hate me or whatever you can just say so. “
“What? Kacchan, no,” Izuku says, bolting upright. “I don’t hate you, why would you say that?”
Kacchan shrugs. “I know I can be a dick sometimes. It’s not like I’m forcing you to hang out with me.”
“Of course that’s not it.” Oh, no. This is the opposite of what he wanted. “I’m so sorry, Kacchan, I swear you didn’t do anything. It’s me. I’m don’t mean to get weird around you, I just can’t help it, it’s hard trying to get you to like me back and nothing I say seems to be working but I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way so I promise I’ll try to be more normal and not standoffish because I’m not uncomfortable exactly, just nervous and awkward which isn’t really new but –”
Kacchan holds up a hand to stop him. Surprisingly calmly, he flips his last pancake, puts down his spatula, and grabs Izuku by the face. “You like me?”
“Wha– who told you?”
“You did, you freckled moron. Since when? What the fuck?”
“Since a while ago,” Izuku says, muffled. Kacchan’s hands are warm and calloused and Izuku’s fighting very hard not to turn into a horrible puddle of goo. “It just kind of happened.”
“Holy shit.” Bewildered, Kacchan releases him to run a hand through his own hair. “So that’s what this was about. Jesus Christ. No wonder you’ve been so jumpy.”
Izuku twiddles his thumbs. “Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I dunno,” Izuku mumbles and tries to disappear into his collar. “You don’t like me much.”
“I never said I didn’t like you.” He blushes peculiarly, Izuku notices. Across his nose and cheeks like a sunburn. “It’s just, uh. Unexpected.”
“Sorry.”
“No, don’t – don’t apologise.”
“Sorry.”
“Fuck.” He clears his throat and goes back to making breakfast, clearly flustered and looking for something to do with his hands. “Shit. Right. Okay. So, uh. What, d’you wanna go out or something?”
“Do you?”
“I dunno.” The weird blush intensifies. He’s pointedly keeping his eyes on his pancakes. Izuku, no longer feeling like he’s in mortal danger, pokes at his food. “I, uh. Hanging out with you is fine. And you’re pretty cute, I guess.”
Izuku drops his fork. “I am?”
“I mean, yeah, sure,” Kacchan says, trying and failing to sound disaffected. “I, uh. We can go catch a movie or something. If you want.”
Uraraka starts giggling from the couch. Izuku, dumbstruck, stares. “Oh my god. You asked me out.”
Kacchan gives him an odd little half-smile. “Heh. Yeah.”
Izuku slams his fist on the table, frankly offended. “What the hell? I’ve been trying to woo you for a month.”
“A month?”
“I complimented you! I kept asking you to come do things with me! I even let you have my last spicy seaweed!”
“You don’t like spicy food!”
“Yes I do! I started eating it because of you! I flirted with you for ages and you didn’t even notice!”
“You should have just come out and said it!”
“Told you so,” Uraraka hollers. Kacchan tells her to shut up.
“Take it back,” Izuku says petulantly. “I put in all this effort, I should at least get to ask you out.”
“Oh my god, fine. Go ahead.”
“Kacchan,” says Izuku proudly. He feels buoyant, excitement fizzing under his skin. “I like you a lot, in a more-than-friends way. Do you want to go out on a date?”
Kacchan rolls his eyes. He’s still smiling though, wider than before, and doing a bad job of hiding it. “You’re so fucking lame. Fine, yeah. Let’s go out sometime.”
“One more question.” Izuku knows he’s grinning stupidly but he can’t really bring himself to care. “Come here a second?”
Kacchan leans forward, expression expectant. He doesn’t pull away when Izuku quickly presses a kiss to his cheek. “You need lip balm.”
“I’ll borrow some soon,” Izuku says, bright red but beaming with satisfaction. “We can buy some together, in fact. When we go on our date.”
Kacchan smiles. A full smile, this time, not that devious little smirk. He’s so handsome. “This better be worth my while.”
“It will be,” Izuku says, delighted. His lips are tingly and warm. “And Kacchan?”
“Yeah?” Kacchan says, uncharacteristically soft.
Izuku laughs. “Your pancakes are burning.”
“Ah, fuck.”