Archive of Our Own ^beta

They do not talk the morning after, and the next few days after that, and Izuku doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.

Nothing else of note happens. Classes continue, they finish their requirements. Some people have even started packing up their things in their dorm rooms in preparation for spring break. Izuku doesn’t break his body using One-for-All and his control of Blackwhip and Float grows stronger by the day. Everything is calm, fine, and going along as they should be.

For all intents and purposes, it’s looking to be a rather uneventful end to their disaster-filled school year, and they can, at least, heave a sigh and feel a bit more at ease.

But Kacchan doesn’t look in his direction. He doesn’t attempt to say a word to his face, passes by him like he's air, and basically treats Izuku as if he’s part of the paint that decorates the walls of the room.

And to be fair, so does Izuku. In fact, he might have taken the plan a bit too Plus Ultra in his approach; immediately leaving the room when the blond is in it, maintaining an appropriate distance between them whenever possible and always having an excuse prepared in the event that he and Kacchan would need to spend a significant amount of time together.

Because they can’t be. Alone. Just them. Together. Two of them.

Absolutely not.

Throughout this process, the only thing Izuku can feel about it is relief. Relief that he doesn’t have to explain anything to anyone else, relief that they aren’t caught using their quirks and getting in trouble as a result, with their friends none the wiser on events that transpired as they speed ahead towards the end of their first year. The blond seems to be making every effort to pretend that it never happened, and Izuku is perfectly all right to follow along in this unspoken plan.

Because what will he even say? What can he say, when Kacchan finally demands an explanation from him? The blond is too canny to be lied to, and nothing Izuku will ever say in his defense can be trumped by the fact that they actually did… that.

Perhaps… he can make the argument that they’re simply carried away by the atmosphere? That’s a thing that happens, doesn’t it? Right, like hugging someone nearby if you’ve won a big prize all of a sudden! It’s completely normal, it happens more often than people think, and ultimately, not that big of a deal.

Maybe Kacchan just… fed off of Izuku’s energy when he got Float to work properly and then decided to… kiss… him…

…

Yeah, even that doesn’t work out in Izuku’s mind as much as he wishes it does.

Just thinking back to it—Kacchan’s tight, almost suffocating embrace, the heat of his mouth searing against Izuku’s tongue—makes Izuku want to throw something (preferably himself) off a high-rise building in shame. He can’t believe he’s done something so humiliating! He thought he had a better grip on his self-control, giving into the temptation so easily and pathetically like that!

(Even if it’s Kacchan who kissed him first. Who told him to kiss back afterwards, whose arms hadn’t let go of Izuku even as they returned back to the earth.

It’s still Izuku’s fault that he's weak for the love of his life, for just wanting to get the experience he’s certain he will never have again.)

It doesn’t take long for the others to notice. The strain between him and the blond just grows thicker and more viscous within their shared, unspoken agreement, and Izuku catches concerned looks being thrown in his direction increasing the more time passes. His friends try to stage an intervention, cornering him about his sudden reticence in remaining within the explosive blond’s presence, but Izuku has established A Plan for this eventuality.

“Nothing bad happened between us! We’re not fighting!” Izuku insists, because at face value, it’s the truth, and he knows they can hear it as well. “We’re all busy, aren’t we? We’re okay, honest!”

“Are you sure? Because Deku-kun, you’re not subtle, you know.” Uraraka frowns at him. “You tense up like a scared rabbit every time Bakugou enters the room and try to leave it within the same minute. That’s not normal for you.”

“You’re acting really awkward around him too, kero.” Asui offers in a calmer tone. “It’s like you’re suddenly aware of him for some reason.” As always, the girl is astute in her observations, and Izuku prays that she stops right there and then before the rest of them manage to make the connection. “Did he do something to you, Midoriya-chan?”

Something involves a finicky quirk, a few meters of altitude, and a rather explosive (both literal and figurative) moment, but Izuku will need to be hit with a truth quirk first before willingly offering that tidbit of information. “N-No, Asui-san! Kacchan didn’t do anything to me—” that I didn’t like.

“Tsuyu, kero. Still, you should stop jumping every time you see Bakugou-chan. It makes people think that he’s bullied you or something.”

“In that case, Midoriya-kun, you should talk your problems out with Bakugou-kun instead of letting it fester like this!” Iida tells him sternly. “Bakugou is calmer and more collected nowadays. He’s not going to eat you if you decide to tell him how you feel!”

Why are those your choice of words, Iida-kun?! Izuku despairs silently, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and disappear, because why that phrasing, of all things?!

Still, his friends have a point. It’s already happened. The best way to get rid of this— this tensio—uncertainty with his childhood friend is to hash it out properly in a quiet and private space. The k-kiss doesn’t have to mean anything, they can let it go, move on with their lives, and go back to being quasi-friends-rivals-teammates-classmates that they already are before Float decided to butt in and crash everything down to hell.

(Yes, he’s blaming it on his new quirk. Yes, he knows it’s immature. And no, he does not care.

Because he’s still a teenager, and teenagers are allowed to make stupid and stubborn decsions no matter how detrimental it would be for them in the long run.)

But it seems like it’s not just Izuku that’s having this problem, because Kacchan’s friends approached him a few days afterward.

“Bakubro’s not himself lately,” Kirishima shakes his head. Izuku is careful to keep his muscles relaxed and loose and not wound up and stiff like the rest of him is screaming to do. “No matter how many times I ask, he’s not telling me anything.”

“He’s too… quiet. Like he’s not there with us sometimes. It’s really weird.” Sero shudders.

“He’s only yelled at me twice today, man,” Kaminari says mournfully, and Izuku’s expression twitches a bit, wondering why that makes the electric blond despondent. Isn’t it a good thing that Kacchan’s not raising his voice towards their friends anymore? “It doesn’t feel right.”

… Then again, Kacchan shouting at other people is a sign of normality. Izuku would be (is now currently) sad if (now that) it’s happening to him too.

“It’s definitely not normal. Are you sure the two of you aren’t fighting, Midorin?” Ashido presses further. “Anything you can think of that might have caused this?”

“There’s really nothing from my end, Ashido-san.” Izuku answers apologetically, because he’s not lying. There’s nothing bad going on between him and his childhood friend. A thread of concern still winds through his heart, however, but Izuku ruthlessly squashes it down. “Maybe there’s something else that’s bothering him? But don’t worry, he’ll talk to you about it once he’s ready! He trusts you guys a lot.” He adds, more sincere this time, because Kacchan will definitely be okay if their friends are looking after him this much.

But the stalemate remains, oppressive and heavy, starting to cut into Izuku’s daily activities. By the time that they need to do the spring cleaning for the dorm before break starts, everyone in class is walking on eggshells around the two of them, wary and expecting a blowout at any moment, and Izuku doesn’t know how to tell everyone else that they can act like they usually do, towards him, at least.

Thankfully, the work they need to finish today needs most of their time and attention without much idle conversation. Everyone is in charge of sprucing up their own bedrooms, but everything else they need to work on as a group, including the empty bedrooms and all the common areas like the kitchen, dining, bathrooms and study rooms.

Chores are split, and everyone starts early, starting from the top down. Aizawa implements a strict “no quirk use” policy throughout the entire thing, which makes everything both easy and difficult at once. But there’s something meditative and freeing about manual labor that Izuku has come to appreciate ever since his first training with All Might on Dagobah Beach. Working with his hands and feet will always be a productive way to spend his time, and he loses himself in the task, helping out with the more physically strenuous activities like lifting and moving heavy objects alongside Satou and Shouji. Washing and drying comes next, and Izuku climbs up one of the rolling, scaffolding ladders Yaoyorozu graciously makes to help Tokoyami clean the common room windows.

(They’re not cheating. Technically. They’re just using her Creation quirk to help them clean the windows, not have it clean the glass for them. So it definitely doesn’t count.)

The clean up is progressing nicely. Everyone is in high spirits, chatting as they do their respective jobs, and even Izuku feels the stifling air surrounding them lately ease up a little, making his smiles easier to appear.

Until.

“Mineta-kun! Unhand those undergarments at once!” Iida bellows, skidding around the corner as he chases after their small, purple classmate, who is holding something pink and frilly in one hand. “Your actions are heinous and not befitting for a Hero in training!”

“I found them in one of the empty rooms! So why can’t I have them?!” Mineta shouts back, starting to throw his balls in Iida’s direction. “The girls aren’t admitting to owning it, so finders keepers, Iida! If you want one, go find your own!”

The class representative splutters, red splotching across his face at the thought. “I would never— Take back your words this instant, Mineta-kun!”

As their classmates watch in their ensuing chase, both in amusement and slight disgust, no one expects Mineta to slide under the ladder Izuku’s standing on, his sticky hair catching onto one of the side rails as he makes a not-so-clean exit on the other side.

Izuku feels the shift as the ladder unexpectedly rolls to the side, and instinctively rears back in alarm. “W-Wait, don’t— woah!”

It’s the mistake that unfolds the chaos that happens after.

The bucket of water hanging on his arm clatters to the floor. The glass wiper follows as Izuku starts to fall back first to the ground.

Around him, he hears his classmates scream his name in shock, but everything happens too fast and sudden for anyone to properly react. Izuku gasps and simply braces himself for the inevitable injuries, hoping that he won’t break any bones this time. His landing position is too unfavorable to activate One-for-All without doing some property damage in the process.

(At the back of his head, Izuku thinks he hears the familiar sound of a blast going off, but that shouldn’t be possible; Kacchan is upstairs with Asui and Ojirou.)

Instead of hitting the floor hard, what he feels is his torso being caught and twisted in mid-air by strong arms, saved by the spread of a palm on the back of his head, an arm wrapping itself around the small of his back. Izuku wheezes out a breath, reeling from the shock, hands grasping at firm biceps and shoulders as he tries to keep himself steady.

In his daze, he almost doesn’t register the sweet, metallic scent of nitroglycerin until it’s too late.

“You fuckwits almost cracked Deku’s skull! What the hell were you idiots thinking?!” Kacchan is bellowing, scowling at the gathered group as he cradles Izuku to his chest and— wait.

Waitwaitwait. What?!

Izuku’s tongue is loose before he thinks of it. “K-Kacchan…?”

The other turns to him then, and Izuku abruptly ceases all function as smoldering magma meets rustling forest.

“… Deku.”

Izuku can’t move. He thinks he’s lost the ability to, fingers curled up and trembling against the defined line of the blond’s shoulder muscles as their gazes lock. The blond’s palm feels large and warm on his scalp, another pressing through Izuku’s thin shirt, right up against his spine, his body essentially dipped a few feet away from the carpet like a dancer doing a finishing move.

His eyes are wide as he takes his first good look at the blond up close after such a long time.

I missed you, his mind traitorously whispers as he instantly catalogues any significant changes in the other’s appearance. Kacchan… looks the same as he always does, unfairly handsome save for the darker circles under his eyes, the unexpected pallor of his pale, lightly scarred skin, and something harsh and painful and longing squeezes inside Izuku’s chest.

Are you sleeping well, Izuku wants to ask, fingers flexing against the blond’s bicep. How is your training going? What are you doing lately?

Izuku’s heart feels like it’s going to burst, warmth flooding his cheeks, staring at the blond and watching the way vermillion-tinged pupils grow wide and dark and deep as Kacchan gazes down at him. They don’t say a word, Izuku’s throat instantly drying the moment he sees the blond’s eyes flutter downwards.

What’s wrong, Kacchan? Why do you look like that?

Why… are you looking at me like that?

Then as abruptly as he is caught, Izuku is released and left to collapse into an ungraceful heap, and Izuku is almost grateful for it as he slowly sits up, wincing.

… But he didn’t imagine it, did he? For a second, Kacchan looked at his lip—

“Deku-kun, are you okay?!” Uraraka is by his side immediately, helping him stand up. “Does anything hurt? Are you injured?”

“No, I’m okay, Uraraka-san.” Izuku tells her, waving off her questions quickly as he glances to the side. “Wait, Kacchan—”

But the other is already gone, his departure masked by the group that’s now surrounding him, also checking and making sure he’s all right.

Izuku stares at the spot where the blond last stood, and something wet and warm springs into his eyes, unbidden.

He… isn’t even going to stay long enough for Izuku to thank him?

He doesn’t understand this feeling, this sudden ache of loss, like something important has just slipped away from his fingers.

But it hurts.

“… Midoriya, are you crying? Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m okay,” Izuku eventually answers, voice barely more than a whisper, unable to look away from the cold, empty space just in front of him. “I’m not hurt.”

(He doesn’t see the exchange of worried looks at the top of his head, the lie glaringly obvious, even to them.

But for once, no one says a word.)

Even when we’re like this, I still miss you, Kacchan.

So, so much.

The whip of pressurized air against his body is becoming second nature to Izuku as he trains in the dorm courtyard after dinner. The grounds are quiet and have the space he needs as he kicks and spins mid-air. His Shoot Style still needs work, and the appearance of Blackwhip and Float has regretfully put his other skills on the backburner. Izuku pants as he lands back on the grass, green tendrils flickering around him as he feels the rush of power on his thighs and calves.

He hasn’t seen Kacchan since that morning. It’s probably unwise to use One-for-All right now, considering he has two quirks that rely heavily on his emotional stability, but Izuku has to work off the volatile feelings in his chest or else he’ll ugly cry in front of a poor, unsuspecting classmate who doesn’t need to see his meltdown over a boy, of all people.

Izuku shakes his head and prepares to do his next set of drills. But at the corner of his eye, he sees a person come out from the glass doors, and Izuku stops, a smile growing on his face at the appearance of eye-catching red and white hair, evenly split in the middle.

“Todoroki-kun! Good evening.”

“Midoriya,” the teen responds with the barest hint of a smile on his face, approaching him. Todoroki looks as he usually does, good-looking and casual in his light sweater and pants. “Do you mind me staying here for a while? I just wanted to get some fresh air.”

“Not at all! Please, keep me company.” It’s been a while since he’s been in the taller boy’s presence, and Izuku doesn’t mind letting the other teen see his progress. Maybe he even has some insights that Izuku hasn’t thought of yet.

The other teen is quiet as he takes his seat on the grass, seemingly not minding the stains on his clothes, making sure he’s far and unobtrusive enough to not get caught in any accidental backlash. The minutes pass peacefully, with Izuku continuing his drills while Todoroki watches him silently, almost contemplative.

“Midoriya… did something happen between you and Bakugou?”

Izuku instantly trips and smashes face first into the ground.

“Midoriya!” His nose throbs, and Izuku’s eyes water at the pain as he hears a pair of feet running and a pair of hands helping him back to feet. “I’m sorry, are you all right?!”

“I’m fine, Todoroki-kun,” Izuku wheezes, dusting himself off as best he can, making a face at the taste of grass and dirt that’s now in his mouth. “You just startled me.”

“It’s still my fault,” there’s a self-incriminating frown on the other teen’s face. “Let’s sit down. You look like you need a break anyway.”

If Izuku has to be honest, he needs a break like, hours ago, but he’d rather exhaust himself completely before sleeping tonight.

He’s less likely to remember the dreams then.

So Izuku lets himself be led to the spot where the dual-colored boy is sitting before, sinking down on the space beside him, not realizing how much he needed the rest until he feels his leg muscles screaming complete murder at him. Todoroki still looks faintly guilty as he takes his place by Izuku’s side, looking at him carefully as he checks for injuries.

It makes Izuku distinctly feel like he’s looking at a kicked puppy, and a chuckle passes through his lips.

“I’m really okay, Todoroki-kun.” He assures, wiping the dirt and sweat off his brow. “It’s my fault for not concentrating in the first place.”

“Still, I bothered you during your training. Is your face okay?”

“I don’t feel like anything’s broken…” Izuku pokes at his nose gingerly. It’s bruised, certainly, but definitely not something to rush to Recovery Girl for.

“Let me see.” Before Izuku can respond, he finds his face drawn sideways and up, right in front of Todoroki’s now intent gaze. Long, thin fingers cup Izuku’s jaw, tentative in their touch and the difference in base temperature distinct as they tilt his head this way and that. Gray and blue irises study him intently under the faint lamplights of the courtyard, and it embarrasses Izuku a little to be looked at so closely, ears pinking and somehow not able to meet the other teen’s stare.

“No lasting damage,” Todoroki declares after a moment of silence, and Izuku smiles, shoulders relaxing minutely. Then the edge of a long sleeve touches his cheek, and Izuku jumps, quickly turning his head away.

“T-Todoroki-kun! Your clothes—”

“It’s fine. Nothing that a wash can’t fix.” Todoroki’s eyes are gentler, determined to atone as he gently rubs at Izuku’s cheek. Izuku is still a little bewildered, but allows it, hoping that Todoroki won’t blame himself anymore after this. “There. You missed a spot earlier. We can still go to Recovery Girl in the morning, if you like.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine by tomorrow. There might be a bruise, though.” It would serve him right for not focusing on his drills. “Really, it’s not your fault.”

Todoroki finally releases him, and Izuku quickly looks forward, sucking in a breath he hasn’t realized he is holding, feeling his cheeks warm. Strange. Maybe it’s the lingering effect of the other teen’s hotter side? “… You didn’t answer my question, though.”

Izuku stiffens up instantly.

“W-W-W-W-What are you talking about, T-T-Todoroki-kun? N-Nothing happened between me and K-Kacchan! Nothing at a-all!”

The look the taller teen levels at him can only be called unimpressed, which, on his normally impassive expression, is a feat in itself. “Midoriya, people tell me that I apparently don’t get a lot of things. But even I know that you’re lying to me right now. What did Bakugou do?”

Izuku quickly shakes his head at the taller boy’s tone, as if all of the blame needs to be placed on the blond’s feet when Izuku also has a part to play in what’s happening to them right now. “That’s not i— Kacchan didn’t hurt me, I promise!” He babbles, stuttering as his mind scrambles for an appropriate and convincing response. “It’s just that— he— I— we—”

“I was there this morning.” Todoroki interrupts, and Izuku falters, hearing how serious the other teen is. “We didn’t see the accident in time, and we reacted too late. It’s good that he was there to break your fall, but—” he glances at Izuku, tone softening.

“Midoriya, I want to believe that I’m your friend. He might have saved you, but that look on your face after… I’ve never seen you react that way before.” Dual-colored eyes pin Izuku in place, showing nothing but concern as he places a cool hand over Izuku’s wrist. “I won’t push if you don’t want to talk about it, but I think it’s my turn to listen to you now. So…”

A gentle, comforting squeeze.

“What did he do… to make you cry?”

Izuku stares at his friend, wide-eyed and shocked, terrified that someone has noticed, upset that he is seen through, because no one else should know. For years Izuku has to force his feelings into solitude and silence, keeping it hidden and concealed because it’s a total disgrace.

But at the same time, it’s Todoroki Shouto. One of Izuku’s most treasured friends, a person he respects and holds in high esteem. The person who shares his past with Izuku first, who tells him the sad story of a fractured family and an ongoing legacy he is forced to surpass.

A companion, a comrade-in-arms, a rival, a fellow hero-to-be. Their relationship forged through blood and sweat, by the threat of death and the triumph of life.

Just as Todor— Shouto, trusts Izuku with the knowledge of his painful childhood, Izuku… can also trust him with the matters of his heart.

And as simple as that, the floodgates that's keeping the truth in Izuku’s chest barely at bay finally shatters.

“He kissed me.”

At once, Todoroki’s steadily chilled grip slackens, his mouth following soon after. Izuku buries his face into his palms, a high-pitched warble coming out of his mouth, because what fresh shamelessness has he just admitted to out loud?!

“Bakugou… kissed you?” Todoroki sounds… stunned. “Earlier? When you fell?”

“No— that’s not— I mean, I kissed him back! But—but that’s not right either, it’s just—aaaahh!” Izuku moans into his hands, curling into the smallest ball he can possibly contort his body to be. “It’s really complicated.”

A pause, as the bi-colored teen processes this information. “So… you… kissed each other?”

“Don’t say it so loudly, Todoroki-kun!” Izuku whimpers, still feeling the incredulous stare at the side of his head. “B-but that’s the reason why we’re… like this.” Awkward. Self-conscious. Dancing around each other, refusing to acknowledge the glaring elephant in the room. “We’re really not fighting.”

Although with the way things are going, Izuku is starting to wish that they actually are instead. At least he can trust Kacchan and himself to be honest when they physically throw down against each other.

The succeeding silence stretches to a painfully uncomfortable point. “Midoriya…” The realization and disbelief starts to creep into Todoroki’s voice.

“You like him. Bakugou. Romantically.”

And there’s nothing Izuku can do but nod, the deep flush reaching the back of his neck as he keeps his head in between his legs, arms locking tight around his ankles. “I… I thought I could handle it. I did for years, it’s never been a problem. But now…” Izuku looks at the space between his thighs, voice barely more than a whisper as he bites his lip in distress.

“I can’t even look at Kacchan anymore. Not without hiding what I feel for him.”

The blond can definitely see it now, plain and frank and immodest on Izuku's face. He has never been the greatest in keeping his cards close to his chest. And maybe that’s why the other teen is still avoiding him, and Izuku is doing his damnedest not to get caught with the other alone.

Because if there’s no proper, formal rejection from him, then Izuku can perhaps delay the inevitable heartbreak for a while longer.

“Why?”

The question is blurted out, unexpected enough that Izuku raises his head to look at Todoroki, puzzled.

The other teen… looks like he’s struggling with something, brows furrowed deep as he stares back at Izuku. Seeing Izuku’s expression, Torodoki asks again, clearer this time.

“Why Bakugou?”

“Ah.” Izuku colors immediately. “Um.”

And isn’t that the million yen question.

Izuku has asked himself the same thing many times before, during the quiet, solitary moments when he’s left with only his thoughts swirling around his head. Why Kacchan? Why Bakugou Katsuki?

Out of everyone Izuku can take a liking to in the whole world, why a foul-mouthed, short-fused, ornery blond who once told Izuku to take a swan dive off their school roof ‘to see if he’ll have a quirk in his next life’?

“Todoroki-kun, you know…” Izuku starts slowly, trying to explain his feelings in a way that would let the other teen see from his point of view.

“Kacchan and I… didn’t really have a good relationship growing up. I… I was told I was Quirkless, and he really… hurt me a lot when he found out.” Izuku understands why now, but it didn’t excuse everything his childhood friend put him through in their younger years. “He has a really good quirk! I was so fascinated when I saw it the first time. Even as kids, he wanted to be the number one hero, and as his friend… I really believed he could do it. Until now I still do.” Izuku glances at Todoroki, rather shy. “Why him? That’s because… Kacchan doesn’t settle for anything but the best. He tries so hard to reach his dreams, and maybe the way he’s going through it is wrong, but who wouldn’t admire someone for that?”

Izuku twiddles his thumbs, bashfulness coating every syllable as he continues to duck his head. “He… can be kind, in his own way. He wants to win so he can save people, and once people realize that, I’m sure that they would be more willing to listen and talk to him. O-Of course I still want to try to be number one! I want to meet the expectations of the people who believe in me too!” Izuku has a lot riding on his shoulders, its weight almost unfathomable, insurmountable. A duty he must see through for the sake of the future that only he and his predecessors can truly understand.

But he also has people who can help him bear that burden in the meantime, until the time comes to carry it on his shoulders alone.

His mother. All Might. Friends and schoolmates. His teachers. The Pro Heroes who have dedicated their lives to the cause.

Kacchan.

The blond has always been there, either to push Izuku further or help him out, even during the times he says he isn’t.

“And Kacchan… Kacchan makes me want to try harder. He makes me want to be better. Because he’s strong, I don’t have to worry about saving him. I want to be a hero with him, but I… I also want to beat him.” One of Izuku’s hands clenched into a fist. “Kacchan… to me… means victory.”

Izuku faces the other teen then and grins, the rest of his words ringing true, reverberating into his bones, echoing inside his soul.

“And if I can reach that peak, if I can finally manage to stand by his side, then it means I’ve finally become the hero that I’ve always dreamed of being.”

Todoroki doesn’t answer. In fact, only silence greets Izuku’s pronouncement, and all that bravado that’s steadily built up is siphoned out of his limbs like the strings of a puppet getting cut.

“I-Is it strange?” Izuku scratches at his head, somewhat sheepish and now too embarrassed by half to look at the taller boy’s face. “S-Sorry, I must have said too much…”

“… No.” Todoroki finally says, with a small, strange smile and an unreadable emotion passing through his eyes, too fast for Izuku to parse out properly. “Don’t worry. You’re making perfect sense to me, Midoriya.”

“Oh.” Izuku exhales; he hasn’t realized how tense he is getting, expecting a different reaction altogether. “I-I’m glad I do, then.” Face suddenly feeling hot, Izuku quickly looks into the distance, trying to dispel the current peculiar atmosphere surrounding them. “I-I mean, it’s just me. People should create their own opinions about Kacchan, but I hope they’ll be able to see past first impressions! He might be hard to get along with at first, but he’s really trying—”

“You really…” Todoroki lightly shakes his head, tone and expression both amused and exasperated as he interrupts Izuku’s increased muttering. “You don’t realize the face you’re making right now, don’t you?”

Izuku stares at him, a little lost. “… What face?”

Torodoki deadpans at him. “A face that says… ‘I’m in love with an impossibly angry blond with a ridiculously powerful quirk.’”

Wha— aaaaaaaaaaahh! Izuku slaps his hands to his flushed cheeks in a desperate attempt to stop himself from making ‘the face’. “S-S-Sorry! Is it really that obvious?!”

“A little. I don’t think anyone else would notice, though.” The other teen lets out a large sigh, head dropping for a brief moment.

“… I’m too late, then.”

For what? Izuku lowers his head, trying to catch his friend’s eye, curious despite himself. “What do you mean, Todoroki-kun?”

A pale grey eye peeks at him underneath snow-white bangs. “Bakugou is lucky to have someone like you, Midoriya.” Todoroki says instead, and he sounds… wistful. Regretful, almost. “And if he can’t see that, then he’s a fool. But I think I don’t need to worry about that.”

His hand slowly reaches out, and pauses a mere hairsbreadth away. Izuku stills as a cool finger hovers over his face, feeling his skin tingle from the almost-touch as a fingertip traces down the curve of his cheek.

“I wish—” He hears his friend murmur, expression now pained, his tone unexpectedly gut-wrenching in its familiarity.

And Izuku finds himself holding his breath, feeling like he’s on the cusp of a revelation he isn’t ready to hear just yet.

But whatever Todoroki wants to say is carried away by the wind, and he drops his arm to rest on Izuku’s shoulder instead. “Nothing. Never mind. Just talking to myself.” The taller boy shuts his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

And when they open again, his gaze is clear, returning back to its usual gentleness. “Something I learned from a friend.”

It takes a moment for Izuku to get it. “T-Todoroki-kun! Are you making fun of me right now?!”

Todoroki chuckles a little in response, deep and full-bodied, genuine and unrestrained. Izuku bumps against the other teen’s shoulder in retaliation, feeling better and lighter than he has been in weeks.

Making his friend laugh like that… is a pleasant feeling.

“… Todoroki-kun?”

“Hm?”

Izuku smiles at him. “Thank you. For tonight.”

“If you really want to thank me…” Todoroki pauses. Considers.

“Can you do it while saying my name?”

Izuku blinks. “Your name? Your first name?” The other teen nods. "Why?”

“Just because. Is that all right?” He asks simply, and it’s not so difficult a request that will require any additional thoughts on Izuku’s part.

“Then…” Izuku looks up at the sky, still slightly embarrassed, the tips of their sleeves lightly brushing against one another.

But for his friend, it is a wish that Izuku will willingly and happily grant.

“Thank you, Shouto-kun.”

A quiet exhale of air.

“… Anytime, Midoriya.”

“And you can use my first name too, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

Silence.

“… Anytime then, Izuku.”

Spending his time with Shouto helped.

While Izuku’s Situation with Kacchan isn’t resolved by any means, being able to finally let his feelings out to some degree is an immense reduction to Izuku’s stress levels. Now he doesn’t feel as unhinged, the pressure alleviating a bit even as he continues to steer clear from the said blond.

As a result, Izuku finds himself in the company of a certain dual-toned teenager more often than not, who knows of Izuku’s predicament more than anyone else in their friend group.

Naturally, this shift in dynamics catches the attention of those who are watching closely, since they are still high school students with a penchant for gossip and a bloodhound’s nose for the slightest change in anyone’s personal life.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time alone with Todoroki-chan lately, Midoriya-chan.” Asui comments airily during their lunch break, and Izuku jerks away from his next mouthful of food. “It looks like you’re getting along well.”

“A-Are we?” Izuku glances at the seat beside him, and Shouto just shrugs back, slurping at his cold soba noodles. “I didn’t notice? Nothing’s really changed between us. Right, Shouto-kun?”

The taller boy nods. “Izuku, your rice is slipping off from your chopsticks.”

“But you’ve started to call each other on a first name basis!” Uraraka cries as Izuku tries to salvage the portion he is about to eat. “Deku-kun, are you sure you and Todoroki-kun aren’t dating?!”

“Uraraka-kun, you can’t just ask our friends that question so blatantly!” Iida yelps at her in turn, making large, chopping motions with his arms. “If they truly are going out, then that is their personal affair! We can only accept and support them in the event they decide to make their relationship public!”

“What?! Midorin and Todoroki are dating?!” Ashido screams delightedly from the next table over, and the news starts to spread quickly, even as Izuku waves his hands wildly in his attempts of denial.

“No, no! Everyone, you all got it wrong! Shou— Todoroki-kun and I aren’t going out. We’re just friends.”

At his side, Shouto makes an agreeing sound. “Just friends. But I thought friends can call each other by their first names?” He starts to frown, glancing at the rest of the table. “Did I get it wrong?”

“No, you’re totally all right Todorin," Ashido quickly assures him. "But it’s too bad! You two would look so good together too!” She coos in disappointment. “A cutie and a handsome prince. Your babies would look precious. Think of Todo’s looks with Midorin’s freckles!”

The bi-colored teen turns to Izuku immediately, brows furrowed. “… Two men can have children together?”

Izuku just sighs, amused and lightly fond. “Shouto-kun, you should really listen to health class one of these days.” It’s endearing how the other teen is still so clueless about things that can be considered general knowledge. But there’s still a tinge of sadness around it, because Izuku knows how the other teen came to be that way in the first place. “But the short answer is no, because biology, unless it’s helped along by a quirk.”

“All right.” The good thing with Shouto is that he readily accepts any explanation if it makes sense to him, which makes it a dream when teaching him new concepts and ideas. “Thanks, Izuku.”

“No problem.”

“Hey.” The sound of plastic slamming hard against vinyl echoes throughout the cafeteria, effectively getting everyone else’s attention.

And Izuku pales at the all-too-familiar timbre, head whipping quickly towards the direction of the sound. “K-Kacchan!”

“Why don’t you quit that disgustin’ shit, we’re eating.” His childhood friend looks ready to blast them into pieces at any moment now, though Izuku has the distinct feeling of being caught in the periphery as the blond directs all of his rage towards Izuku’s seatmate. “You fuckwads are makin’ me wanna hurl. Is there nothin’ sacred anymore? What the fuck.”

Shouto’s voice distinctly cools when he leans back and looks at the blond. “You seem to be more wordy than usual. Problem, Bakugou?”

“Yeah, an’ it’s called your smug Half-n-Half face, you bastard.” The blond growls back. “What is this fucking bullshit I’m seeing.” Bright crimson eyes flash murder somewhere in the vicinity of Izuku side—

And Izuku quickly looks down, only to realize that Shouto must have been resting his arm on the back of Izuku’s chair the entire time, fingers curled inwards and its tips just brushing at the juncture where Izuku’s uniform sleeve and bare arm meets.

Oh, oh no, this is bad. The ash blond is the absolutely last person Izuku wants to get the wrong idea about this! “N-no, it’s not what you think! We’re just—!”

… But he’s a little too late for that, Izuku thinks in distress as the other’s face darkens further at his unhelpful stuttering.

“Kacchan, leave the new lovebirds alone,” Kaminari butts in, just having arrived in the room. Izuku darts at glance at him from the corner of his eye, both concerned and a little impressed by the electric blond’s apparent lack of self-preservation. “You’re acting like a spurned lover right now, catching Midoriya in the act with another guy. Speaking of which, get that bread, Midoriya! Just heard the news that you and Torodoki are a thing now.”

“You heard w-wrong, Kaminari-kun! Ashido-san just assumed incorrectly!” Izuku corrects immediately, while Kacchan rounds on his fellow blond instead, spitting vitriol. “I’m serious, Shouto-kun and I aren’t that way at all.”

“But you’re getting real close if you’re actually using Torodoki’s first name now.” Kirishima beams at them, tugging the other two back onto their seats. “How manly, you two!”

“So Midoriya, you’re still single?” Sero asks, ignoring the sight of Kacchan strangling Kaminari as he joins Ashido in their usual table. “No confessions from anyone else yet? That sucks.”

“Not for long if I have anything to say about it,” Shouto answers blandly before Izuku can, because he has a terrible sense of humor underneath all that poker face. Izuku squeaks in alarm, turning to him instantly.

“S-Shouto-kun! Don’t joke about something like that!”

The rest of the lunch hour continues in its normal brand of chaos, Izuku’s face painted in a permanent blush all throughout even as everyone else segued into more common topics. Despite their mutual confirmation of their non-relationship, the rumors will definitely persist for some time before dissipating completely, which is par for the course for a high school, even if said school also trained some of their students to deal with dangerous and life-threatening villains. Shouto also continues to look and act like nothing significant happened, which is also the usual for the taller boy, and something Izuku is deeply grateful and envious of.

For a fleeting moment, Izuku considers the thought of actually dating the bi-colored teenager, before the idea disperses as quickly as it appears. Impossible. The other teen doesn’t think of Izuku that way in the slightest, and they have a more grounded basis in their built friendship than in any sort of physical attraction.

That’s not to say that Shouto isn’t handsome, because he honestly is. But Izuku has loved-been-in-love with his childhood friend for more than a decade now, and he isn’t going to move on from the sheer depth and complexity of those emotions any time soon.

Afternoon subjects and come and go after, and soon enough it’s the end of the day. Izuku’s been assigned with the classroom clean up with Shouto for the week, so they walk back to the main building after heroics class, already changed back into their uniforms. The weather is steadily turning warmer, sakura petals drifting from the trees surrounding the pathways around the school as Izuku gets into an intense discussion with Shouto about the best All Might movie adaptations. Izuku’s a staunch defender of the original precursor set of movies, while the dual-toned teen admits to preferring the reboots, which is a travesty Izuku must correct at the soonest possible time.

The talks continue even as they get back to the classroom and start to organize and tidy up the usual spaces. Their classmates come and go in the room, also busy with their respective duties, and with everyone’s help, cleaning is quick and efficient.

Izuku is just about finished with sweeping up the residual chalk from the blackboard, left alone with the taller boy, when he hears his name being called.

“Izuku.” Shouto is standing right beside him, making Izuku crane his neck back a little more so he can look at the teen’s face properly. There is a definite set to his jaw, a determined slant to his mouth as his heterochromatic eyes fill with… anxiety?

But why?

The other boy pauses, but his gaze doesn’t waver away from Izuku’s face. “Can I… try something?”

Izuku tilts his head further, curious and starting to get a little worried. Shouto… is acting really strange right now. “Sure? Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing like that.” Shouto shakes his head, a warm palm placing itself gingerly on Izuku’s shoulder. “But I promise I have a reason for this.” Blue and grey eyes flicker briefly to the open door behind Izuku’s back, tone becoming more steady as he continues. “If you feel uncomfortable at any time, don’t hesitate to punch me for it immediately. Okay?”

Izuku gives a hesitant nod. “O… Okay?” Izuku trusts him with his life, and he’s sure that the other teen wouldn’t deliberately hurt him.

For a moment, they do not move. Facing away from the windows, the waning sunlight casts a shadow over Shouto’s features, and Izuku stares, wondering what the other boy is going to do.

However, every option Izuku can potentially think of is dashed away when the hand on his shoulder moves up, a warm thumb passing over the collection of freckles at the apple of his cheek.

Izuku startles, the warmth from Shouto’s hand transferring over to his face as the rest of the other teen’s fingers slot themselves over Izuku’s neck and jawline. Heterochromatic eyes are intent as their gazes continue to lock, and Izuku feels his heart skip a beat as Shouto slowly lowers his head.

Oh, the dots connect numbly in Izuku’s mind as the taller boy’s face finally fills his vision, drawing closer and closer until he can feel curiously lukewarm breath fanning across Izuku’s cheeks.

Shouto-kun’s quirk… really can mix together like that, huh.

And he’s… he’s going to kiss me.

The moment the thought blooms, several things happen at once.

Izuku hears rapid footsteps coming up behind him, choking as he's suddenly yanked back by the collar. His feet stumble as his torso follows his body’s center of gravity, but his unexpected fall is interrupted as his shoulder blades crash against something firm.

Like lightning, Izuku finds an arm snaked around his waist, holding him hostage against the heated body that’s now pressed up completely behind him. A palm slides over Izuku’s eyes, blocking his line of sight entirely.

Everything happens in a matter of seconds. Izuku takes a moment to pull himself together, dizzy and faint.

“W-What…?!”

“Oi.” A familiar voice rumbles beside Izuku’s ear, enraged and out of breath, and Izuku’s breath hitches, the faint scent of metal and nitroglycerin finally registering in his senses.

Kacchan? Where did he come from all of a sudden? Why is he suddenly here? What is he doing?

Unless… he saw what was about to happen and—

And all at once, every hair on Izuku’s body stands on end. He has never heard the blond speak like this before, quietly intense, the palpable, unmistakable sensation of complete and utter fury that seem to make the very air surrounding them sizzle and precariously waver.

It’s terrifying.

This scares Izuku, that Kacchan can even feel this much, can direct this much rage at another person, the single word delivered flat, almost emotionless.

It is the quiet hiss of flammable gas escaping from a tank, before the inevitable destruction caused by a massive explosion.

Because right now, the blond is promising total annihilation, and if released at its maximum, no one will escape unharmed.

So Izuku starts to struggle, thoughts racing as he tries to think of a way to calm Kacchan down, or at least let him release his anger somewhere else— anywhere but towards them. “K-Kacchan! Let me go, I can’t see!”

But the blond completely ignores him as large fingers tighten over Izuku’s eyes, around the curve of Izuku’s hip.

(And despite the vibrating tension between them, Izuku’s heart still decides to do more than a few backflips inside its cage, pleased and thrilled with this sudden change in attitude.

Because his body doesn’t care that two of the people Izuku deeply cares for has just narrowly avoided spilling blood right then and there on the classroom floor when Kacchan’s touching it again.)

“I’m talkin’ to you, you Half-n-Half son of a bitch.” Kacchan tucks Izuku’s head at the side of his neck, his form a solid line of warm, firm muscle and bone against Izuku’s back. It is a strangely gentle, protective gesture, despite all but spitting sparks out of his mouth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing.”

The scent of burning caramel intensifies. 

“Simply shooting my shot,” Shouto answers after a moment, seemingly unaware of the danger as his tone remained as detached and as cool as a cucumber. Izuku gapes, momentarily pausing in his squirming, because Shouto-kun, can’t you see that your life is in danger right now?! “Since Midoriya is currently unattached at the moment.”

An almost amused huff of breath. “But it looks like the ball has been stolen from me before I can even make the attempt.”

“This is your last warning.” Kacchan’s voice is so low it can’t even be considered coming from a person anymore, harsh and growling, more beast than man. His hand clamps down harder around Izuku’s face, the pressure almost painful around Izuku’s eyelids as he squeezes tight.

“Fuck. Off. Don’t talk to Deku, don’t fuckin’ touch him, don’t even look at him from now on. ‘Cause if you do, all bets are off. I don’t give a fuck if they kick me out, but another move on the nerd, an’ I’m gonna explode you so hard they won’t be able to find all the pieces of you even if they hired a search party.”

“K-Kacchan!” Izuku yelps, tugging at the other’s wrist in an attempt to free his vision and succeeds, glancing between the blond and the two-toned boy worriedly as he keeps a firm grip over Kacchan’s hand. “Don’t say things like that! People might think you’re serious!”

But Kacchan isn’t even looking at him, eyes sharp and narrow as they remain on the bi-colored teen. “As a fuckin’ heart attack, nerd. And stay outta this, this is between me an’ the flaming sack of icy shit over there.” The blond’s body is tense and rigid all over, ready for a full-on confrontation as he glares at Shouto.

“I ain’t tellin’ you again. Step aside asshole, or I’ll make you. Got that, Todoroki?”

Izuku's jaw drops, eyes still moving from one boy to another. He knows that Kacchan doesn’t bother learning their classmate’s names most of the time, but—

For him to actually know and say Shouto’s last name like that…

But something must have resonated all the same, because Shouto’s expression turns into one of grim resolve as he faces Kacchan.

“I accept your challenge, Bakugou. But,” Shouto’s eyes sharpen in turn as he apprises the blond. “If I see Izuku cry again because of you, I don’t care what you’ve done.”

His voice transforms into flint, harsh, cold, and unforgiving.

“You hurt him, and I’ll hunt and put you down like the rabid dog you are.”

“Hah! I’d like to see you try, IcyHot.”

“Shouto-kun! Kacchan! That’s enough!” Izuku finally has had it, forcefully pushing himself away from the blond’s grip and getting between them, a hand on each of their chest with wisps of green lightning flickering and dissipating around his arms. “What’s gotten into you two?! Why are you two fighting?! Stop this!”

With one final sneer at the taller teen, it’s Kacchan who turns away first, grabbing Izuku’s elbow along the way as he stomps out of the classroom. “Talk’s over anyway. Come on, Deku.”

“W-Wait! Kacchan! Don’t just drag me around!” Izuku can easily break away if he wants to, but right now he’s just lost, mind continuing to reel from the events that just rapidly unfolded in front of him. “I have to finish cleaning, I can’t leave Shou—”

“You say his name again in front of me and I’m explodin’ him to kingdom come.” The threat makes Izuku’s jaw click shut, and he is hustled through the corridor with much fussing. Frustration steadily builds up inside Izuku, leveling a glare at the back of the blond’s head. He doesn’t want to hurt Kacchan, but the hold on his arm joint is tight, just on the side of bruising, and the pressure of the large, hotter than usual palm is slowly becoming unbearable.

But Kacchan doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t make any indication of having even heard of Izuku speaking, strides impatient and rushed as they go down the nearest flight of steps.

This isn’t good, the other is too foul of a mood, too deep inside his head to even attempt to listen to him. Like this, they’ll end up blowing up and hurting each other again, misunderstandings and issues piling up on top of one another until the growing distance between them becomes unbreachable once more. Maybe for good.

And Izuku refuses to let it happen. Not this time. Not again.

“Wai— Kacchan, stop! You’re hurting me!” Izuku cries, a last ditch attempt to snap the other out of it, because if there’s anything he can trust Kacchan to listen to the most, it’s this.

Because he won’t hurt Izuku on purpose. Not now. Not anymore. Kacchan has grown and matured so much in the time Izuku has known him, slowly and surely turning into a good man that will become one of the greatest heroes of their time.

He’s the person Izuku is in love with. The one Izuku trusts the most in the world to protect and cherish his heart, no matter how terrifying it is to offer something so frail and delicate in the first place.

So Izuku digs his heels back, pulls as hard as he can, and shouts.

“Kacchan, please let go!”

And this time, surprisingly, miraculously, the blond listens. His grip slackens instantly, and Izuku’s chest heaves as they both stagger to a grinding halt on a deserted landing in between floors. Izuku clutches at his elbow, not needing to look to know that it’s definitely bruised, the flesh throbbing in time with his quick heartbeats as the pressure is abruptly released.

For a moment, they can only hear their gasps for air, asynchronous in their melody as the sound blends in with the rush of blood inside Izuku’s ears. Izuku watches the blond’s back cautiously, worriedly, because Kacchan’s… Kacchan is shaking, and Izuku’s chest aches at the sight.

More than anything else, he needs to make sure that the other is okay.

“K-Kacchan…?” Izuku starts, tentative, reaching out with his uninjured arm. Fingertips eventually touch the coarse fabric of the blond’s dark grey blazer. “Are you… okay?”

And between one breath and the next, the blond whirls around and catches his wrist.

Izuku freezes, seeing the glimpse of a bowed head and a set jaw. But instead of speaking, Kacchan pulls—

—sending Izuku right into his arms.

Izuku stares blankly at the spot where the ceiling and wall meet, chin hooked on the blond’s shoulder, too stunned to say a word. It’s tight, Kacchan’s embrace, snug and warm in a way that reminds Izuku of his mother’s cooking and strong, spiced tea on a cold winter day; familiar, comforting, and heating up Izuku’s insides just right.

It feels perfect. A dream come true. A complete replica of the way Kacchan held him back then, just that once, with nothing but the sky and clouds surrounding them, seeing each other under the light of a full moon.

And almost too much.

Izuku’s face feels hot. This throat tries to work, making small, indistinguishable noises as he tries to make sense of what’s happening. His body trembles, multiple emotions clashing and colliding into one giant mess that he can’t make heads nor tails of.

“K-Kacchan…?” Izuku whispers, afraid to tip the balance of a precariously delicate scale. Izuku tilts his head towards the blond, his free hand hovering over the blond’s lower back, not quite touching him yet. “U-um… this…?”

In response, the blond just cradles him closer, fingers turning into claws as they dig into Izuku’s side, the meat of his shoulder. Izuku gasps as their chests collide, hears the rasp of air beside his ear as Kacchan exhales, soft blond strands tickling Izuku’s cheek.

“… Shit.” From this distance, he hears the blond grit his teeth, voice rough and filled to the brim with so many unspoken emotions. Izuku suddenly can’t breathe, unknowing if it’s due to the other’s grip, or his words.

Because against his chest, Izuku… can also feel the blond’s heart, beating as loudly, as quickly, as strongly as his own.

“Damn it. I’m fallin’ to pieces ‘cause of you, you damn Deku, and you don’t even realize it.” His voice breaks a little at the end, forehead grinding itself on Izuku’s collarbone, and Izuku’s mind flashes back to Ground Beta, after Kamino Ward, post-All Might’s retirement. “Are you seriously doing this to me, you dense moron—”

“Kacchan, I won’t figure it out if you don’t tell me,” Izuku tells him, helpless, wanting to understand but not knowing how. Something is wrong, and everything in Izuku is screaming to help, to save, even if it’s the blond from himself. “C-Calm down, okay? We can talk a-about this. No matter what, we’ll s-still be friends—”

The other teen’s hand crushes his upper arm in response, and Izuku bites his tongue against the influx of pain. “Why don’t you get it yet?!” Kacchan is still furious, voice muffled against Izuku’s uniform as he is ripped away and shaken hard. Fingers tangle themselves into his curls, and Izuku’s head swims at the act, forced to look up and take the entire brunt of the blond’s onslaught.

“You aren’t this stupid, Deku! Are you makin’ fun of me?! Stringin’ me along like a tapdancin’ monkey on a goddamned stage ‘cause it’s fun for you, huh?!”

“Of course not! Kacchan, I would never!” Izuku replies fiercely, grasping the back of the blond’s uniform, taking offense that he'll even think that way. Now Izuku can see the other’s face, the pink rimming the edges of his eyes, the anguish that fills the always beautiful ruby-colored irises. “How can you even say that?! I wouldn’t k-kiss someone because of pity!”

It’s Izuku who says it first. Izuku watches as the blond’s face goes through several emotions in quick succession before settling once again into the mask of rage that he is intimately familiar with.

“Then what was that in the classroom with fucking IcyHot, then?! I thought you said you weren’t dating!”

“We aren’t! I didn’t know what he was trying to do! I was just as surprised as you are!” Still is, to be frank, but that’s an issue to be addressed at another point. “Kacchan, why are we even fighting about this?! We aren’t d-dating either! You had no right!” No matter how Izuku wants them to be. No matter that every single part of his mind, body, and soul wants to be eternally tied to Bakugou Katsuki in all the ways it can be possible to be with someone else.

The simple fact remains that, in the end, they are still nothing, despite feeling something.

At that, the blond actually flinches, rearing back on instinct.

And all at once, the fight drains out of Izuku.

He’s exhausted. They’ve been in this limbo for far too long. All of this guessing and double-taking is starting to scrape at his sanity, and if Izuku needs to move on from his first love, then he’s going to need all the time and energy he can get.

With Bakugou Katsuki, it’s either everything or nothing. There is no halfway.

So Izuku raises a hand to grasp at the other teen’s forearm, eyes forging tempered steel despite his growing weariness and upcoming grief. He looks up at the blond, a scarred hand squeezing in assurance as he tries to summon his best smile.

“Just… finish this already, Kacchan.” Reject me. “I’m a big boy, I can understand being told no.” Let me go already. “Give it to me straight, okay? Don’t hesitate.” I’m used to you breaking my heart. I just need to get through it one last time. “I… I might need some time, but I can promise we can be friends again.” One day, I’ll be able to move forward too.

Instead, the blond just gapes at him, staring at Izuku as if he’s the one who can’t believe what he’s hearing then and there.

Then Kacchan gnashes his teeth, a snarl on his lips as both hands grip Izuku’s head. White-hot fingers flex against the cords of his neck, thumbs keeping his jaw raised, immobile, and at the blond’s complete mercy.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

But Izuku has no time to brace himself as he is tugged forward and up, foreheads knocking against each other harshly as the blond forces him to remain still. Izuku’s body strains in turn, knuckles bone white against the other boy’s wrists, rising on his tiptoes as Kacchan snarls in front of his face.

“So be mine already, stupid Deku.”

“Oka—” The word is already half-out of Izuku’s mouth before the complete thought sinks in.

And then his gaze snaps back to the blond, stupefied, thoughts flatlining.

“H-Hah?!”

“You think I’m just gonna let you go?” Kacchan rumbles, forbidding and ominous as his nails press into Izuku’s skin. “You think I’ll let your clumsy nerd ass wander away from me and perch itself on that pussy-ass, candy cane lap? Well, tough shit for him, ‘cause I saw you first. I was there first. You were mine first.”

The blond’s hands start moving again, brushing Izuku’s curls back to expose his face, still rough and assertive, but this time with a touch of gentleness and care that Izuku has never experienced before. Kacchan actually looks grumpy, fiercely staring at Izuku in a way that makes him feel like he’s the one that caused the blond’s problems in the first place.

“Then that chimera-lookin’ asshole just decides to slobber all over you like he has any fuckin’ right to have you when I was right there. The fucker knew but he still wanted to bait me. The son of a bitch.”

“Wait.” Izuku needs to think. He has to breathe. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Izuku is supposed to be back in his room at the dorms right now, crying about his childhood friend with a tub of strawberry ice cream. “Wait wait wait!” Izuku can’t take this. He’s going to faint. This is the most overwhelming thing he’s had to go through, and that’s already counting the day he discovered that he can have a quirk of his own. “K-Kacchan, do you even know what you’re saying right now?!”

The blond quickly looks towards the window, but the movement just causes Izuku to see the bright pink flush that’s tingeing the shell of his ear. “Believe me, I’ve been thinkin’ about this for months. Thought of everything I can do to get outta this shit, because feelings suck, okay?” Garnet-red eyes slide back to meet his own, uncertainty flashing through his gaze, and the mere sight of it is enough to render Izuku speechless.

Because Kacchan… actually looks scared.

A heavy sigh. “Look. I know don’t fuckin’ deserve you. I was a shitty brat with a goddamned god complex. Hell, I told you to jump off the roof, Deku. That’ll stay with me until I fuckin’ die, and it should, ‘cause it was fucked up, and it shouldn’t have come from anyone else. Especially not from me. But seein’ you with that Half-n-Half bastard…” Kacchan’s voice suddenly dips low, guttural.

“It made me sick to my stomach. I can’t fuckin’ take it. The thought of you smiling at him, stayin’ by his side… it makes my blood boil, an’ it makes me wanna grind his ugly mug into the goddamned concrete. Still would, if he pisses me off enough.” The words are being torn away from his throat, piece by piece, bit by bit, but the raw honesty in each syllable is unmistakable, and it devastates the little defense Izuku still has left guarding his heart.

“So listen.” Kacchan says, in a tone that doesn’t cajole or persuade. It simply commands, and Izuku, vulnerable, longing, can only comply. “Understand this, Deku, ‘cause I’m not saying it again.”

Izuku swallows thickly, dumbfounded and petrified. But he can’t turn away from this, doesn’t think he has the ability anymore. His eyes sting from how large they feel on his face, cheeks burning scarlet when Kacchan tightens his hold over Izuku’s hair.

“I’m gonna be the Number One Hero.” Izuku feels the promise, the vow, sink slowly into his bones, proud and unequivocal, frank in its inevitability. “I ain’t no coward. I’m not gonna run away from this. I’m not gonna run away from you. This time, I’m gonna fight, and I’m gonna win.”

Finally, the blond decides to take a physical step back, and Izuku immediately mourns the loss, the scent of campfires and sugar wafting away and leaving a faint trace on his skin.

But red eyes remain resolute as they gaze upon him, broad shoulders straight and strong as the pale, large hands that contain enough power to level buildings and destroy matter clench itself tightly into fists by the blond’s sides.

“I'll own your large shitty heart one of these days. So you better fuckin’ prepare yourself, Deku.”

What… what is he supposed to say after something like that?! Izuku boggles at his childhood friend, arms tucked in and curled against his chest like a maiden protecting her virtue as his mind frantically tries to keep up.

He can… consider this as a confession, right? That means… Kacchan feels the same way as Izuku does, right?

Which means… Izuku’s feelings… are requited, after all?

The moment Izuku's mind makes the connection, his brain-to-mouth filter abruptly switches off.

“But… you… don’t have to try, though?”

Sharp ruby eyes snap back onto his face, a quick inhale immediately following after.

“Deku… what did you just say?”

Relief and elation surge through Izuku’s veins, threatening to overflow, finding their escape as his liquid wells at the corner of his eyes, vision misting, blurring over the surprised expression on the other’s face.

“Kacchan, you… you don’t have to ask.” Izuku hiccups, face crumpling in exasperation towards himself, because he’s so happy right now, but why is he crying?

But the smile on his lips is so wide it threatens to split his face in two, as he too, lays out his own promises in response to the blond’s vow.

“Because my heart… it’s yours already.”

It always has been.

In a single bound, Kacchan crosses the boundaries between them again, but this time, Izuku meets him halfway, falling into the blond’s arms as he sobs in Kacchan’s embrace.

“Say that again,” the blond demands, ragged, hoarse like he’s just finished a marathon as fingers come up to rub and wipe at Izuku’s face, removing the salty tears dripping down on his cheeks. “Nerd, look at me right in the face and say it again, word for word.”

It takes a while, because Izuku has to gulp in some much needed oxygen, because his nose is running and he can’t see Kacchan properly and he knows he looks horrible right now but—

“I love you.” Izuku gasps, tilting his head up and pressing his cheek and jaw into the soft palms that now frames his face in its entirety. He hears the doubt in the blond’s voice, feels the terror in his trembling hands, the awful, barely suppressed hope that Izuku has lived with all his life before he even had an idea of what it signified.

So he hurries to comfort, to assure, because Kacchan has him now. Will always have him, for as long as the blond will let him.

“It’s you. It can’t be anyone else but you. Katsuki, it’s always been you—”

When Kacchan crushes their mouths together, swallowing the rest of Izuku’s words, it is desperate. Feverish. Quenching the thirst that’s been built up, satiating the hunger that’s been endured for far too long. Izuku shivers, skin tingling, warmed by the heat of the other teen’s hands and the setting sun streaming through the clear glass windows, orange and yellow hues washing over their intertwined bodies like a painting.

And just like before, like that night, Izuku gives himself up wholly, arms finding purchase around the blond’s neck. He trembles, hand twisting in between the blond spikes that appear lighter in the dying rays. Larger, more intent fingers follow the wave of Izuku’s spine in turn, caressing gently, lighting sparks under flesh in their wake.

One body surges when the other retreats; unstoppable force meeting immovable object.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that again.” The blond declares hotly against his panting, parted mouth, his equally swollen lips stretching into a grin. “Shitty nerd.”

The look makes Izuku flush, but he just holds on tighter, nothing but satisfaction radiating from his entire being as this time, he moves forward first.

Because he’s now allowed to, because he can, and there’s no sweeter, freer feeling than this, of being held because he’s now considered someone precious.

“You’re never gettin’ away from me now.” Katsuki rumbles against Izuku’s kiss-bitten mouth, palm tenderly cradling Izuku’s cheek, Izuku’s tongue heavy and still tingling with electricity.

And this time, Izuku doesn’t have to use Float to know he’s flying again.

“… I look forward to working with you, Kacchan.”

The next day, Izuku is radiant, and everyone else definitely notices.

“Deku-kun…” Uraraka starts slowly, poking at his shoulder hard enough to catch his attention. Izuku whips back to look at her, beaming, and the people in the vicinity automatically wince at the sudden brightness.

“What is it, Uraraka-san?”

“You’re…” She waves a hand in lieu of an explanation. “Floaty.”

“Really?” Izuku has been out of sorts since he woke up this morning. Maybe a little more ditzy than usual, but he just can’t help it. Everything is simply wonderful, so why won’t he be in a good mood?

“No… seriously.” She points at his feet. “You’re off the ground.”

“O-Oh!” A second later, Float cuts off, and Izuku gives his friends an abashed look. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right, kero,” Asui pats his arm in assurance while they continue to walk towards the school building. “You look really happy, Midoriya-chan. Did something good happen?”

What good didn’t happen, is what should be asked, but even Izuku has enough presence of mind to not mention anything incriminating. Not until he talks to Kacchan first, at least. “I guess? I just wanted to try and be more cheerful today.”

“It’s a good look on you, Midoriya-kun,” Iida assures him as they enter the glass building, students coming and going through the familiar corridors as they head towards their classroom. “You’ve been a bit down lately, but I’m happy you have managed to pick yourself up again!” Chop chop.

Izuku’s cheeks ache a little as he grins at the other teen, and Iida sharply turns away, adjusting the glasses on his face. “Thanks, Iida-kun.”

The rest of their walk is peaceful, and Izuku slides his hands on top of his backpack straps with a skip in his step, now all too willing to participate in the current gossip that’s circulating around the campus while silently musing on the recent changes that’s happened to his life.

He does talk to Kacchan afterwards. Properly. But only after spending a truly disgusting amount of time on the blond’s bed, touching and feeling and exploring each other both in the literal and the figurative sense. With their shared history, they both need a lot of time and conversation than usual to get used to the new parameters of their relationship, and it’s not a particularly smooth transition. More than giving in to the obvious physical attraction, their emotional connection needs to be clarified first, and Izuku can’t help but be greedy now that the opportunity has opened up for them both.

He just… wants Bakugou Katsuki’s everything. Is that truly too much to ask for?

But fortunately, the blond also wants the same things as he does, and Izuku has no problem providing anything and everything that the other might need from him.

So everyone walks away satisfied, more in some ways than others.

The classroom is already half-full when they arrive. Kacchan isn’t there yet, which is a point of surprise for their classmates and one of silent pride for Izuku, who knows exactly why the normally punctual blond isn’t already on his desk by this time.

One-for-All does give Izuku more of an edge when it comes to stamina.

They all split by the doorway to place their bags on their desks, but Izuku goes towards the back of the room instead, spying the tidy mop of white-red hair already present and sitting down in his chair.

“Shouto-kun,” Izuku greets the taller boy, fidgeting with the hanging straps of his bag. “Do you have a minute?” When the teen nods, Izuku wastes no time barrelling on. “I just want to say that I’m really sorry for leaving so suddenly yesterday— ”

“It’s fine.” Shouto interrupts, standing up from his seat to properly talk to him. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. Did you manage to clear things between you and Bakugou?”

At the mention of his perpetually angry blond, Izuku can’t help the conditioned-by-this-point flush rising on his face. But he owes it to the other boy to be honest. So Izuku nods.

“Congratulations,” the taller boy says simply, and Izuku can’t help but give him an appreciative smile. Of course Shouto will notice. “The offer of the punch is still available if you want it, Izuku.”

Izuku quickly shakes his head, “n-no, it’s okay! N-Nothing really happened, so it’s fine now!” Besides, Izuku is sure that, even if Kacchan didn’t come in at that exact moment, the other would have probably stopped. Hopefully. “I really don’t want to hurt you, Shouto-kun.” Izuku admits, earnest, because that’s the truth. Shouto has grown to be one of Izuku’s closest and most trusted friends, and Izuku will never deliberately hurt any person he cares about.

Shouto’s expression visibly softens as he stares at Izuku, heterochromatic eyes brimming with an emotion that Izuku cannot immediately place. “… I know. It doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

Izuku blinks, eyes growing wide in concern as he faces the other teen completely. “Have I… done something wrong? Did I upset you?”

After a long moment of them just… looking at each other, Izuku growing more confused and worried as the seconds pass, Shouto finally shakes his head with a sigh, a slight smile on his face. “It’s not your fault, Izuku.” His left hand rises and eventually rests on top of Izuku’s head. His palm feels warmer than normal, gently going through his curls with lingering… acceptance? Izuku’s head automatically leans towards the touch. It feels really nice. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it.”

But Izuku still doesn’t understand. “… Get over wha—?”

“Oi.” The sudden sound of something sharply slapping against skin, and Shouto jerks his wrist away, eyes slowly shifting towards the face that suddenly appeared by Izuku’s head. Izuku also doesn’t have the time to react, suddenly being pulled back into a broad, shirt-covered chest, an equally warm hand curling itself protectively over his hair. “Hands off, motherfucker. I fuckin’ warned you. And that offer transferable? ‘Cause I’d love to plant a good one right now on your stupid Half-n-Half mug.”

Izuku instantly looks up, startled, seeing familiar blond spikes and wine-red irises. “K-Kacchan! Don’t be so rude!” His… Kacchan has finally arrived at the classroom, and with it, any semblance of calmness and peace that their class currently has. “People will get the wrong idea! Shouto-kun, I apologize for him!”

Both boys look down at Izuku at that, their intense expressions frighteningly similar as they speak at the same time.

“Don’t apologize for him, Izuku. The only person responsible for his actions is himself.”

“Don’t say sorry to this limp-dicked excuse of a candy cane, Deku! He doesn’t deserve one from you!”

“Uwah… I feel sorry for Midoriya all of a sudden, getting involved in between them like that…” Izuku hears Kaminari say to Kirishima with sincere feeling, and Izuku chokes, feeling the mortified heat crawl right up to his ears.

Seriously, what has his life come to?

“O-Okay! Class is about to start!” Izuku interrupts in an all-too cheerful tone in an attempt to diffuse the situation. He starts pushing the blond to their seats on the other side of the room, quickly waving at the dual-toned teen. “L-Let’s sit down, sensei might come in at any minute! See you later, Shouto-kun! Kacchan, come on!”

“Tch. Fine.” Thankfully the blond is in a relatively agreeable mood despite being up later than normal, letting himself be dragged to their desks without any more fuss. Izuku feels more than a few pairs of eyes linger at them interestedly, observing as Kacchan throws his bag onto his seat before turning to Izuku.

Then their gazes accidentally meet.

And Izuku’s heart lurches for freedom inside his ribcage, struggling to return back to its owner.

Izuku’s pretty much imitating a strawberry now with how hot and stuffy his closed shirt and tie feels. They blink at one another, and Izuku gets the chance to see how the other teen really blushes; an even increase of red pigment, the light pink starting from his neck and increasing in intensity as it comes up to his cheeks and ears. It’s fascinating.

It’s a new thing he learns about the blond, and Izuku can’t wait to discover more of him.

“G-Good morning, Kacchan.”

“… Yeah,” Kacchan grunts back after a moment. “Same.” His eyes wander down Izuku’s body, lingering and heated, and Izuku tries not to react too openly, bombarded with several memories with vivid clarity.

(As it turns out, the blond’s mouth also works just as well in any other part of Izuku’s body.)

“Shit Deku, you never learned how to do a tie even after all this time? It’s been a year already, nerd.”

Izuku takes a quick moment to compose himself. “S-Sue me, I tried my best!” He knows it’s too short, but Izuku just can’t manage to do it right, even after following the video instructions step by step. Iida and Shouto have offered to do the knots in a way that would let him just slip the tie on in the mornings, but Izuku can’t make himself accept the assistance, too ashamed of his own abysmal skills to accept his friends’ kindness. “I don’t want to hear that from you, you don’t even wear yours!”

“Fuck you, are you sassing me this early in the morning?” Fingers snag at the red fabric and tugs, Izuku following directions easily as the blond pulls him closer and the tie looser. “Hold still, or I’m stranglin' you.”

“Okay, Kacchan.” Izuku watches as deft hands work around Izuku’s neck, the tie smoothened as fingers guide it around the contour of his shirt collar. With a few twists and flips, a proper, professional knot is made, pulled up firmly to rest snugly against the hollow of his throat.

(It's also coincidentally on top of a bruise that they’re both pretending does not exist, placed there by a set of enthusiastic teeth last night.)

Afterwards, Izuku can’t help but look at the blond with stars in his eyes, a small giggle slipping out as he is suitably impressed. “Thank you!”

There’s a small, upward quick on Kacchan’s lips in return. “Tch. Gross. Save that shit for the extras who want it.”

“Sooooo… are you two actually going to tell us what’s going on right now or are you going to just shove it in our faces on how tragically single the rest of us are?”

Izuku shrieks, flailing and almost choking on his tie as Kacchan instinctively tightens his grip before letting go immediately. Their heads swivel towards the same spot at the same time, seeing one of their classmates openly staring at them.

“J-J-J-Jirou-san!”

“Ears, what the fuck?!”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” The girl drawls out, casually twirling one of her jacks around a finger. “But I just gotta say, you two are getting this… sparkly, bubbly aura around you,“ Jirou carelessly waves her other hand in their general direction with a shit-eating grin on her face. “And it’s getting real unbearable to watch, guys.”

“Kyouka-chan, we just promised we wouldn’t bring it up!” Hagakure wails from across her seat. “Now they’re going to stop! And they were being so adorable about it too!”

Kacchan rounds up to glare at her with the speed of a snake striking its prey. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, No Face?!”

“Bakugou. My man, my boy, my brother from another mother.” Kirishima comes up to them next, shaking his head. “You and Midoriya are so obvious right now, it’s painful to watch,” he continues, uncharacteristically grave as he clasps a hand on Kacchan’s shoulder. “But it’s so manly that you’re actually showing your relationship in front of us.” Multiple pats and a squeeze to the muscle. “I’m so happy you actually trust us enough with this. We promise we’ll support you and Midoriya all the way. Right, guys?!”

“Yeah!”

“W-Wait a minute!” Izuku exclaims, dizzy and disoriented as his gaze darts around all the people in the room, jaw hanging open in shock. “What are you talking about?! K-Kacchan and I are j-just… um—!”

But whatever he wants to say stops as the decisive word reaches his mouth, because somehow, he just can’t say it out loud.

Izuku instantly deadpans at himself. How hard is it to say three syllables?! Ka-re-shi. Boyfriend. Kacchan is his boyfriend. They’re going out now, they're exclusively dating, and it’s not like Japanese doesn’t have a word that perfectly encapsulates that significant change in relationship status. They’ve discussed it and everything too!

So why is it so hard to think of his childhood friend and that word in the same sentence?!

At the ensuing silence, Yaoyorozu slowly stands up from her desk with a small, meaningful smile, and Izuku shoots her a small, betrayed look. Even she, of all people, is getting into this?!

“Then shouldn’t we make things clear for everyone in the room?” She is asking the entire class, to enthusiastic nods, “to make sure that there are no misunderstandings in the future and everyone will be on the same page.” With multiple assenting responses, Yaoyorozu’s head whips towards them like a woman on a mission, and Izuku stares at her, suddenly terrified of what she’s going to do next.

“Since we all agree, and there are some people from the other class listening in as well… Bakugou Katsuki-san!” She calls the blond’s attention, waiting until he actually turns to her before imperiously pointing a finger towards Izuku’s chest.

“Who is Midoriya-san to you?!”

It seems like all the oxygen inside the room has been collectively sucked out in one breath, their sudden audience rapt and completely focused in their attention towards them. Multiple eyes are trained on them both, and the sheer pressure radiating from their gazes would have made Izuku pass out if he also doesn’t feel like he’s gradually losing air as seconds pass, openly gaping at the other as his body remains frozen by his seat.

Izuku sees the blond’s head cock to the side, a sharply defined jaw moving as he actually thoughtfully mulls over the question. Izuku’s mouth continues to open and close, wordless as he holds his yellow backpack in front of his chest, a rather pathetic attempt to shield himself from whatever words the blond will say out loud.

Crimson irises suddenly snap towards his face, locking him in place. A tiny, strangled eep escapes Izuku’s throat as Kacchan’s lips finally part.

“Mine.”

Complete silence.

And then—

“That doesn’t tell us anything at all!” Several people yell at the same time, exasperated.

“Don’t be so vague, Bakugou! Are you two dating now?! Is Midoriya your boyfriend?!”

“Yeah, we need definite answers, man! Or are you and Midoriya in some sort of more-than-friends-less-than-lovers arrangement?”

“They might even be dating secretly for a while and now they just got engaged!”

“Forget all that, are you two already fucking?! Because if you are, I don’t wanna hear any of it!”

“Shut the fuck up then, you extras!” Kacchan roars back, a hand running through his ash blond locks in increasing agitation, the back of neck a bright cherry red. “Shit, I don’t know! The fuck d’you side characters even want from me?! ‘Boyfriend’ is juvenile as all hell, ‘lover’ sounds seedy as fuck… hey, Deku!” He whips his head towards Izuku instead. “Whaddya wanna call our thing again? Official or legit or somethin’?”

“D-Don’t ask me that so suddenly!” Izuku squawks in turn, face brighter and redder than a lit traffic stop light by this point. Really, it’s just their luck that they have such nosey schoolmates.

“But…” Izuku slowly places down his bag, gulping when he feels the gazes on him multiply in number and intensity. “If someone has to ask, then…”

This is perhaps the most nerve wracking moment he’s experienced in his life. Not even fighting villains can compare. At least then Izuku knows what to do. But there, right now, facing the figurative firing squad, Izuku has never needed so much courage and confidence in himself to admit to the world just how much Bakugou Katsuki means to him.

But, Izuku thinks as he takes a glance towards his image of victory, at the summit he finally manages to conquer after years of pining, as they all say.

Plus fucking Ultra.

So Izuku reaches out to grab the blond’s hand. Everyone gasps. He feels Kacchan’s hand twitch in surprise, palm damp and warm against his skin, with the faintest hint of charred sweetness reaching his nose.

Izuku looks up to the ceiling, dark red overtaking his entire upper body and adamant on not making eye contact with anyone else as he confesses.

“Kacchan and I are… dating. Probably.”

“… Ain’t no ‘probably’ about it, you shit.” Kacchan snorts back after a moment, and feels his hand being shifted before realizing the unmistakable sensation of larger, thicker fingers slotting in between the spaces left by his own.

“Nerd’s taken.” He hears the blond inform the rest of the class, smugness coating every inch of his tone, and Izuku squeaks, even as a soft, barely there pressure is pressed onto his knuckles. Izuku doesn’t even have to look to know that the blond is grinning at him, fierce and wild and incandescently breathtaking. “So suck it, extras.”

And Izuku simply smiles back, helpless and fond and ridiculously happy, sharing a moment of quietly perfect understanding with his boyfriend as the rest of the class proceed to to have a mental breakdown around them.

All the while, their hands don’t let go, only breaking apart when Aizawa-sensei finally comes in and officially starts the rest of the day.