we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars 29 ☾ Bi ☾ Vampire
Check me out on AO3-> The Death of Rain BKDK Fanfic
8/1/26 CHAPTER 4!-> Chapter 4: Pressure
In their first poetry class, Deku unloads emotional trauma & reflects on Kacchan's disappearance
Kacchan is as mysterious as ever
Deku goes crying to someone else about it...
Notes:
HAPPY NATIONAL YAOI DAY!!! Let's celebrate with bkdk!
Yes one of my nails got torn off but that didn't stop me from finishing this chapter!!
Deku's song
Pressure by Paramore
Kacchan's song
Happy reading!! :D
Today was a day that was equal parts excitement and dread for Izuku, because it was finally time for his most anticipated class, Creative Poetry. The dread of course was attributed to Katsuki, who for whatever god awful reason decided to minor in English. The small class size and intimacy of these creative writing courses usually delighted Izuku, but the thought of Katsuki infiltrating such a place was harrowing.
Throwing his head into the sky, Izuku admired the passing grey clouds as Pressure by Paramore finished playing in his headphones. He inhaled the fresh, woodsy air and tried to ground himself before entering the classroom.
As Izuku suspected, the class was small. Twenty desks were arranged in a circle in the cramped room and fourteen students were already seated next to one another, chatting away. Izuku took the next open seat and placed his materials on his desk, observing that Katsuki wasn't here yet.
"Good evening students, I'm Professor Yagi, but you can call me Toshinori," Toshinori announced himself to the class casually as he wrote his name on the chalkboard.
Toshinori had unruly blonde hair, tired blue eyes, and a frankly decrepit looking body. He bore a basic white button up and green cargo pants, not exactly resembling a typical professor, but many of the professors at Sandwash were laid-back, free of unnecessary flairs.
"I'm not going to go over the syllabus word for word, I expect you all read it already, and if you have questions about it, you can ask me after class, or email me."
Just then, Katsuki walked in, skateboard in hand, black backpack slung over one shoulder with a blank look on his face. He surveyed the room, noted the first empty seat near him was next to Izuku, and turned to sit elsewhere, until he was stopped by Toshinori.
"Young man," Toshinori's voice stopped Katsuki in his tracks, "please have a seat next to?" He gestured for Izuku to say his name.
"Izuku," Izuku answered, and wondered if the universe had a twisted sense of humor.
"Izuku," Toshinori smiled. "I won't let students sit alone in the circle. Everyone must be close together for partner activities and sharing purposes."
Katsuki begrudgingly obeyed Toshinori and sat next to Izuku. Eyes on his desk, he removed his headphones and wrapped its cord a little too tightly around his iPod before setting it aside. He was wearing a System of a Down band shirt with baggy black jeans. Izuku remembered when they listened to their album Toxicity together in Katsuki's childhood bedroom, just the two of them on Katsuki's bed, listening to his boombox reverberate the walls with music.
Why does everything carry his memory?
"I know some of you have already, but please introduce yourself to your neighbors and tell them one your favorite things about poetry."
Izuku immediately turned to his left where Katsuki wasn't, but he was met with the back of his neighbor, who clearly already knew the classmate next to her, as they were talking excitedly about an upcoming party. With a sigh, Izuku turned to his right and found Katsuki, thumbing the edge of his notebook.
"Hi, I'm Izuku Midoriya," Izuku said dryly.
Katsuki looked at Izuku from the corner of his eye.
"Sarcastic humor doesn't suit you," Katsuki muttered, splaying his silver-ringed hand across the blank page of his notebook.
"Why are you in this class, Bakugou?" Izuku asked, already tired.
"That wasn't the ques—"
"I know," Izuku went on, "but could you answer it anyway?"
At first Katsuki said nothing, and Izuku was about to start drawing in his notebook margins until Katsuki finally broke his silence.
"Music."
"Music?"
"Yeah."
Izuku blinked.
"Can you elaborate?"
Katsuki poked his lip ring with his tongue, eyes still on his desk.
"They're the same to me," Katsuki explained, "music and poetry. When you read a song, it sounds like a poem. When you read a poem, it sounds like a song. Basically, a poem just needs some sound, and it becomes music." Katsuki's cheeks were dusted pink as he continued. "So yeah. It sounds dumb as shit when I say it out loud like that. But there you go. Are you happy now?"
Izuku marveled at the man before him. How did he make something so simple sound so profound? It's not like Katsuki was the first person to make this connection, no, Izuku was more intrigued that Katsuki made that emotional connection within himself. Music was always a constant in both of their lives. Izuku couldn't conjure a memory where Katsuki wasn't wearing headphones or blasting music on his boombox or in any given situation. Now that he thought about it, they were both always analyzing the lyrics of songs together. Or used to, of course.
"Oh," Izuku managed as he tried to quell his brewing emotions.
Katsuki raised his pierced brow.
"Sorry," Izuku apologized before Katsuki got heated. "I wasn't actually expecting you to answer."
"Okay," Katsuki snorted.
"It makes sense though," Izuku continued, "you're always listening to music. You know which bands and singers will make it big," a half smile tugged on Izuku's lips. "We would…always listen together. And we would read the lyrics together too."
"you remember," Izuku said softly, searching Katsuki's eyes, "right?"
Katsuki stared back, his body tensed, and his expression became indecipherable.
"It's your turn to answer the question, nerd," Katsuki diverted.
Ouch.
Izuku wasn't sure what he was expecting. Did he really think Katsuki would open up or even acknowledge their past relationship? Why does he keep trying to reach someone that doesn't want to be reached? Isn't the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?
Tears pricked the back of Izuku's eyes, but they did not breach the surface.
"One of my favorite things about poetry," Izuku began, "is that it allows you to tell the truth in fiction."
Katsuki continued to gaze at Izuku, who was now staring at his hands as he spoke.
"I can express my emotions and life without being direct, without naming names, without completely exposing myself," Izuku clarified. "I can relinquish my subconscious and human experiences onto paper."
A charged silence energized between them.
"Deku…" Katsuki trailed off, his body turned toward Izuku's.
But Izuku did not look up. The blue lines of his notebook blurred in his vision.
"I—"
"Alright, that's enough chit chat," Toshinori declared, "now it's time to move on to your first writing exercise. Today's class will end early, after this assignment. You will complete this exercise at the beginning of every class for the entire semester. The exercise is as follows: write freely for twenty minutes straight. No pausing, no thinking, no judging, just writing in a flow state. Even if you're just writing, 'I don't know what to write right now. This is stupid' or you're writing the same line over and over again until a new one comes. That all counts, and eventually other stuff will come out. This is stream of consciousness writing, and it is integral not only to creative writing, but to understanding yourself better."
Izuku picked up his pencil and dated the page, grateful for the task.
Katsuki slowly turned back in his seat and picked up his own pencil.
My name is Izuku Midoriya and I am in Creative Poetry taught by Professor Yagi, but he told us to call him Toshinori. I am a junior at Sandwash University and this is my first semester. I write in my diary sometimes but not consistently, and as of late, I haven't touched it all. I'm not sure why that is…well…maybe I do…this is kind of hard. I've never truly just written down every single thought without stopping. I mean, I ramble out-loud a lot without stopping, so, this shouldn't be that different. I should be good at this. Well, maybe this isn't something to be neccessarily good at. Oh god, I don't think I spelled "neccessarily" right. I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, I'm living on campus in the transfer/upperclassmen dorms thanks to my scholarships and…I have a roommate…
Izuku's hand stilled and glanced at the roommate in question.
Katsuki was paralyzed. His eyes were wide, unblinking and his pencil hovered over a completely blank page.
Of course he can't think of anything to say, Izuku thought to himself, almost pitying the man.
Toshinori noticed Katsuki's struggle, bent down to his eye level, and whispered something Izuku couldn't hear in his ear. Whatever Toshinori said caused Katsuki to tense up, but his pencil started moving, albeit slowly, but he was still writing nonetheless.
…my roommate is Katsuki Bakugou…Kacchan. Although, I don't call him Kacchan anymore. It hurts to call him Bakugou. It doesn't feel right. But, it has to feel right. Because he isn't Kacchan anymore. He doesn't want to be. He told me not to call him that anymore. But, he still calls me Deku, although I guess it's always been more of an insult anyway. Embarrassingly enough, I grew to like it, he was the only one that called me that, and that made me feel special. Maybe I really just am delusional after all…uh…it really is hard to write without pausing, and I did pause to check if Ka Bakugou was writing or not. His page was blank until Toshinori whispered something to him, and now he's writing.
I can't lie, I am dying to know what on earth he is writing and what Toshinori said to him. Does he even have a stream of consciousness? I feel like he starts and stops many angry, volatile, strange thoughts in his head because if he thinks for too long, he'll explode, or worse, actually feel something.
Bakugou…he's been so mean to me. He keeps saying he can't stand to be around me yet he always seems to be around. Not as a comforting presence of course, but as an avoidant, explosive menace. At best he's sarcastic and snarky, at worst he's explosively angry, cruel, and standoffish. He won't explain himself at all. He's been gone for literal years and ghosted me and everyone. I mean, I called him probably over a thousand times. Shamelessly. After graduation, I started working at my mom's bookshop to save money for college, and he started at Sandwash University.
Everyone else was in college too, and I still saw everyone for parties, and Ochako of course but…it wasn't the same. Everyone else was progressing and I was stuck, poor and working, waiting for my opportunity. .. I told everyone I was okay but I wasn't. I was happy for them but not happy for myself.
Bakugou and I were hanging out a lot…and then he threw that Halloween party…the one that…that changed everything…and then he dropped out of college and fell off the face of the earth.
I was so lonely. So, so lonely. But you…Bakugou…if you were there, if you didn't leave…
Wet stains materialized on Izuku's paper and he realized he was crying, soundlessly. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding and pulled the collar of his t-shirt over his nose to try and hide his face. He felt a pair of eyes on him but he didn't dare check to see who it was.
I went to your house the day after that Halloween party, to apologize for how I reacted…for everything. But you weren't there. Kirishima and I thought you went for a drive, to clear your head. But then…you didn't return anyone's texts or calls. No one knew where you were. I went back to your house the next day, and your mom assumed you were avoiding responsibility, off doing something stupid. She told me your car got towed from the Z Lounge bar. Did you really use that stupid fake ID to go drinking at a bar?! Why? Did you really go there because of what happened?
Your mom was certain you were fine. I wanted that to be true, but, something just felt wrong. I was starting to worry something awful happened to you…
That's when I decided I was going to fill out a missing persons report. You disappeared not long after…not long after one hundred people vanished from our town…without a trace. The One Hundred Lives Lost case…I was terrified you were taken too. I found myself at your parents' house again. I wanted to check in with them one more time before filling out the report.
They said you came by, packed a bag, and left. Your mom said you weren't their son anymore. She told me not to file the missing persons report. She told me you weren't missing, you just wanted to leave everyone, start new. I refused to believe it. Why would you want to leave that badly? I asked her where you went, and she said she had no idea, that you were an adult, so she couldn't legally force you to do anything…I know your mom cares about the family name and reputation way too much—and we both know your dad is under her thumb—did that pressure get to you? But you…you were already starting fresh, in college…you had your whole life ahead of you…it just didn't make any sense.
I even checked public court records and prison records to see if you got arrested or something. But you were nowhere. A ghost.
More tears stained his letters as he flipped the page.
You betrayed me. You left without saying goodbye. Without saying anything. You had so many chances to answer my calls all those years. To come back. To explain yourself. I left you voicemails until your inbox was full. When your inbox would open again, I realized you must have listened to my voicemails. Either that or you just deleted them without listening to them first. It gave me stupid hope anyway. So I kept leaving voicemails. It was mostly me begging you to call me back and asking where you were and if you were okay. Sometimes I'd give you updates on my life. I know I left you nasty voicemails too. I was angry. I was hurt. I would be crying a lot too sometimes. It felt more like unfolding into a void than anything else.
And the craziest part about all of this is that I want to forgive you. So badly. But you won't let me. I am understanding to a fault—at least that's what Ochako says—but I can't think of anyone I want to understand more. I thought I did understand you. More than anyone. I think that's why I feel so stupid. Why I feel so ashamed. I ask you over and over again and embarrass myself over and over again each time I ask. And I can't seem to stop asking. But…I cared way more than you ever did about me. That's the only explanation.
Now, you refuse to tell me anything. Anything at all. If you would just tell me what happened, what you went through, I would be there for you. Even though…even though you weren't there for me. When you left. I had to tell myself you left for a good reason, that you would never abandon me like this otherwise. And if that's not true, if that's not true…then you left for no reason at all, ignored me for no reason at all…then that would mean that you never cared about me. You never cared about me..you..
Izuku dug his nail into his pencil and felt the soft wood crease beneath him. He was biting down so hard on his cheek he tasted blood, and he felt like he might vomit. But he persisted anyway.
No. I'm not going to let you embarrass me on the first day of class. I'm not going to fall apart and give up because of you, I managed for years just fine without you and I made it here all on my own. Even if I have to deal with you in three classes, even if I have to room with you, I will overcome this. I will tolerate you. I can care like any other human cares about another human, but I can't trust you. I don't trust you. You broke that. You ruined that. You threw everything away. And now you show up, bigger, faster, stronger, grungier, pierced.
Whatever. You must not have gone through anything too bad then, if you've improved in every way….on the outside anyway. But you're different now. You're not a morning person anymore. I never see you eat. I never see you drink water. You don't even sweat anymore. You're somehow still faster than me. And I've gotten faster and stronger in your absence. In class, you didn't even rub it in my face that you were way faster than me. Since when were you not an overly competitive sore winner? Since when? I mean, that's really, really strange Bakugou…
Very strange indeed.
Izuku stole another glance at Katsuki. The mysterious blond was focused on his paper, writing more than Izuku considered him capable of doing. It was obviously one thing for his appearance to change, but, who he was? At his fundamental core?
You've changed in bizarre ways. I think you're hiding more than just your past. Or your past followed you. I'm not sure what's up with you, but I'm going to figure it out. I knew you best at one point, and I'm going to figure you out based on that…unless…I really shouldn't. Would that be healthy? After all, you said you can't be around me, yet you're everywhere, but also nowhere all at once.
What…what am I doing? I'm all over the place. I should stop writing about this. About you. But you were gone for so long and it's not even been a week since you've been back so I think I have every right to think, write, and talk about you, it, the situation all I want. I don't even know who I'm arguing with. Myself, I guess. Dammit. I'm supposed to be focusing on myself, my studies, my future, my friends…but, I can do it all. I have to. I have to figure you out, or I will drive myself crazy.
Ochako has already said you've made me crazy. Maybe she's right, but I don't think it's surprising considering…everything. I had a good conversation with her the other day, until you interrupted it. You really should've seen your face when you found out we were both gay. If I wasn't so angry I probably would've laughed. I…I can't believe you're gay, Bakugou. I was just as surprised as you were when you found out I was.
I mean, I guess you didn't date any girls in school, even though a lot of girls thought you were cute, until, well, you talked to them. You weren't exactly receptive to their flirtations. That's a nice way of putting it. I just thought you were really picky and too dense to date anyone. Maybe I was partially correct. I don't know. I wish we could talk about it more. A lot of our friend group is gay, but, talking about it with you would be…nice. But that will never happen. So I should stop wishing for it. Besides, I have Shouto…or, well…Ochako heard that he talks about me a lot. He is gorgeous, I have a hard time looking at him sometimes because I'm afraid I'll stumble over my words. He's so kind, patient, and gentle…unlike
"Alright, that's twenty minutes. Goes by faster than you think, doesn't it?" Toshinori walked around his circle of students. "You will get points for completing these in class. But, don't worry, I won't ever be reading these. This writing is personal to you and for you only, unless you decide to share with someone."
Izuku closed his notebook with a shaky hand. Toshinori was still speaking but Izuku only heard ringing in his ears as he desperately tried to bring himself to the present and erase from his mind everything he wrote about. But that was impossible. He opened Pandora's Box and he couldn't lock it back up. Putting everything on paper made everything real. Evidence. Evidence of all the lies, betrayals, mysteries, sadness, everything.
Izuku shot up out of his seat, ignoring everyone's stares, and let his legs carry him to the door. He made the mistake of taking one look back at Katsuki, who was watching him intently. Tears sprang in his forest eyes.
Without a word, Izuku fled the classroom, and when he finally crossed the threshold of the building, he allowed himself to cry.
☽ ☾
Shouto opened the door on Izuku’s first knock.
“Shouto,” Izuku whined pathetically, globs of ugly tears poured down his face.
Shouto’s mismatched eyes grew wide and he hurriedly ushered Izuku inside his single dorm room.
Izuku shamelessly crashed into Shouto, fisting his t-shirt in his hands as he sobbed into the tall man’s chest. He was delirious, unable to come to his senses or ask permission.
But none was needed. Shouto took him in, flush against his chest, and wrapped his arms around him tightly.
Izuku’s sobs descended into a series of hiccups and sniffles. Shouto rubbed large, long circles on his back, and cradled Izuku’s head delicately.
Unclenching Shouto’s now sodden shirt, Izuku gazed up at him helplessly, his bangs marring his freckled face.
“Let’s sit down,” Shouto offered, guiding Izuku to the couch across the room.
Once Izuku was sitting, Shouto grabbed the tissue box on his desk, handed Izuku a neatly folded tissue paper, and gingerly sat next to him.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Izuku managed, eyes flicking to Shouto before looking down at his lap.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Shouto affirmed, taking Izuku’s free hand in both of his.
Izuku’s heart skipped a beat at the soft touch.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Shouto prompted gently.
“Um,” Izuku began, still unable to meet Shouto’s eyes, “it’s…it’s about Bakugou. I know, I’m like a broken record, I thought I was done talking about him but now that he’s back I don’t know I just feel so crazy and—“
“It’s okay, Izuku. You don’t have to explain that. Just tell me what happened.”
Izuku took a deep breath and tried again.
“All these memories just keep bubbling up. He will do or say something that reminds me of our past, of our…friendship, and I’ll get happy at first, sometimes I’ll be fine, but other times I get so overwhelmed, like my heart is going to swallow me whole,” he wiped his nose with a tissue and set it aside. “And if he would only just talk to me, tell me why he left, why he didn’t return my calls, why everything.”
Shouto was silent, processing everything Izuku said.
“I’m really sorry Izuku. If I had any control over the rooming I would…” he shook his head, “anyway, Bakugou is in the wrong. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, but you did nothing wrong Izuku, not then, not now.”
"Thank you," Izuku sighed. Although, he wasn't sure if he agreed. "He's just changed so much. In some ways he's exactly the same, but in others, it's like…it's like he's a different person. And we used to hang out all the time. Until, well. I just—ugh! I'm all over the place. We did this stream of consciousness writing exercise in poetry class, and I was letting everything out, you know? And writing everything down made it concrete, how…different everything is."
"I'm sorry, Izuku," Shouto stroked the back of Izuku's hand with his thumb. "I know you have a long history with Bakugou. His return is a lot for everyone, but especially for you, and Kirishima," Shouto pursed his lips in thought. "He was actually just talking to me about Bakugou. He's upset too, he just doesn't show all his cards like you do."
"I'm not so great at keeping my composure," Izuku admitted with a blush.
"Izuku," Shouto dipped his head toward him, "you're doing just fine. It's not good to hide your emotions. I think it's incredible that you don't. I only mentioned Kirishima to validate your feelings about Bakugou."
Izuku gave Shouto a wobbly smile. “Thank you Shouto, you always know what to say.”
“I really don’t, I’m quite socially awkward,” Shouto laughed lightly. “But I've known you for a long time too. You’re kind and easy to talk to. You’re a good person, Izuku.”
Izuku’s heart fluttered in his chest. He gazed at Shouto’s gorgeous face and his alluring eyes, one stormy grey, one turquoise blue.
His lips.
“Izuku, you’re staring.”
“Yeah…”
Shouto’s grip on Izuku’s hand tightened.
Izuku's lips parted.
A loud pounding on the door interrupted them.
Izuku jumped. His head knocked hard against Shouto’s jaw, causing Shouto to bite down roughly on his tongue.
Mortification engulfed Izuku when he saw Shouto’s tongue was bleeding. Shouto was shocked, his tongue slightly sticking out, blood dripping down, his eyes still on Izuku.
“Eeeuaghh!” Izuku screamed and scampered to the door, swinging it open wildly to a very confused student.
He pushed past them ungracefully, nearly tripping over his shoelaces as he barreled across the common room to his dorm.
By the grace of the universe, Katsuki was not in the room. Izuku made a beeline for his pillow and screamed into it.
Ochako answered on the first ring.
“Izuku! What’s up?”
“Ochako, I’m such a loser,” Izuku crushed his flip phone against his ear and mouth as he spoke.
“Oh god, what happened?”
“I almost kissed Shouto.”
Izuku yanked his phone away from his ear as Ochako cheered triumphantly.
“Why are you celebrating?! I said almost.”
“Yeah, but that means you’ll get it next time!”
“But Ochako,” Izuku moaned, “I came to his room sobbing about Bakugou. He held me as a I cried, I covered his shirt in snot—“
“—he held you as you cried?”
“I feel like you’re focusing on the wrong thing.”
“Oh, I’m not. I am sorry about Bakugou, but,” Ochako paused, “he held you as you cried?”
“Yeah,” Izuku blushed, “he rubbed my back and held my head.”
“Um, Izuku! That’s pretty intimate.”
“He said really nice things about me, and we locked eyes, and we were about to kiss but then—“
“—but then whaaat?” Ochako squealed impatiently.
“A student knocked on the door. I jumped because I’m, erm, jumpy, and I accidentally headbutt Shouto’s jaw and made him bite his tongue. And he started bleeding.”
“Ohhh…” Ochako drawled out.
“Right. So then I screamed and ran away. Like a loser.”
There was a beat of silence before Ochako busted up laughing.
“Freaking Zuku. You’re such a hot mess.”
“Thanks for making me feel better,” Izuku pouted.
“Relax Izuku. You’re a hot mess, emphasis on hot. Sure this was extremely embarrassing, but it’s also funny, and endearing. You left Shouto wanting more. Now he knows you want to kiss him.”
“Now he knows I want to kiss him…"
“Don’t panic, I can feel your panic through the phone. You’ll have no time to avoid him anyway. The party’s tomorrow night.”
“And Bakugou’s going too.”
“Don’t worry about him. It’ll be fine. There will be plenty of alcohol.”
“Will you pregame with me in my dorm?”
“Duh. Okay, I’ll be there tomorrow a half hour before the party then. With a bottle of vodka.”
“You’re the best, Ochako.”
“I knooowww,” she sing-songed before hanging up.
Izuku closed his phone, collapsed onto his bed, and hit REM upon impact.
Summary: Something on Kacchan's side of the room sends Deku into a spiral of memories
"Are you gay? Yes or yes?"
Kacchan, why aren't you sweating?!
Notes:
Deku's song: Serpentine by Wisp
Kacchan's song: Me, Myself, and I by Oliver Tree
Izuku didn’t see Katsuki again that day, and he tried his best to suppress his usual mess of emotions when it came to his former friend. He resisted the urge to call him and the urge to ask Ochako to ask Mina to ask Kirishima if he was okay. Izuku wasn’t trying to get close to the man again, he felt it was basic human decency as his roommate to worry if he was alive or dead.
The only signs of life came the next morning, when a small Toshiba television and GameCube with two controllers materialized on Katsuki’s desk. They were the only visible objects on Katsuki’s otherwise barren side of the dorm.
The setup had piqued Izuku’s interest. He was able to leave it be as he went to his Writing Workshop class, but when he returned, his curiosity got the better of him.
Izuku glanced at his door to check for Katsuki, then he turned on the TV and jammed his finger into the GameCube’s power button. The familiar graphic of the GameCube loading sprang to life on the screen, the quirky tune of it tickled Izuku’s brain. He held down the button that opened to the cube shaped menu, and saw that the inserted game was Super Smash Brothers Melee. A game he, Katsuki, and the others played religiously, which ended in a lot of wrestling and fist fights.
Sticking out of the gaming system was a green memory card, with the name “Deku” written on it, in Katsuki’s handwriting. The orange controller slipped out of Izuku’s hands and he stopped breathing for a moment. This was the memory card that was exclusive to Katsuki and Deku; Katsuki never brought it out around anyone else, or even mentioned it. The memory card contained their personal game saves: Animal Crossing (which Katsuki threatened to kill Izuku if he told anyone he played it), Sims 2 (a terrible game really, another game sworn to secrecy), Sonic Adventure Battle 2 (the chao garden was secretly Katsuki's favorite part), Tony Hawk's Underground 2 (naturally), and of course every All Might video game the GameCube had to offer.
A sob choked out of Izuku as a tsunami of memories drowned him. In middle and high school, their friend group played video games together, and Kirishima had left Katsuki no choice but to let Izuku play with them. But, one day, in their junior year, Katsuki had personally invited Izuku over to play games.
The crisp autumn air rejuvenated Izuku's spirit as he stepped out of the stuffy classroom. Physics was by far his least favorite subject this year, and he nearly nodded off three times during the teacher's monotonous lecture. If it wasn't for Katsuki—who threw wadded up paper at the back of his head—he would've fallen asleep, and got reprimanded.
"Isn't this weather amazing, Kacchan?" Izuku took in a deep breath and exhaled audibly.
"Not really," Katsuki disagreed. "It's gonna rain a lot more, which fuckin' sucks."
"I think the rain is beautiful." Izuku leaned his head back to stare at the very tops of the pine trees that bordered Sandwash High. "Don't you think it's incredible that we have trees and plants that stay green year round? It's like, we're always surrounded by life!" He watched as bluebirds chirped noisily and flitted between the trees' outstretched branches.
The blond followed his friend's gaze for a moment then returned his attention back to his iPod.
"Guess so. Would be cool if we had more trees that changed color though."
"We do! We have Bigleaf Maples that change color—"
"—yeah, but not on campus." Katsuki tapped his thumb against the buttons of his iPod. "Have you listened to the album 'Around the Fur' by Deftones?"
Izuku shook his head, now curious. "No! I don't think I know that band."
Katsuki gaped at the curly haired teen. "Are you serious, Deku? Well, we have to change that. Their music is awesome."
"Oh, um, okay! I'm sure they're great if you like them, Kacchan," Izuku said with a smile.
"Of course. I have damn good taste, nerd." Was Katsuki's arrogant reply.
As they kept walking, Izuku realized he was following Katsuki to the student parking lot, which was the complete opposite direction of the bus stop he was supposed to go to. Quite frankly, he wasn't used to Katsuki bothering to talk to him this long. Ever since their summer cross country try outs and practices, Katsuki's 100% bullying dwindled to about 80% bullying, and he even seemed genuinely interested in conversing with Izuku sometimes. The change made him both elated and uneasy, but he did his best to go with Katsuki's tumultuous flow.
"Well, um, I should probably go catch my bus. I have a bad habit of missing it and then I have to wait another thirty minutes for the next one to come, and my mom gets worried about me and I don't like making her worry, so I think—"
"Wanna come over and play games instead?" Katsuki interrupted, his eyes still locked on his iPod. "I got the newest All Might game. And you know the other shit I have."
Izuku blinked in surprise. This was the first time Katsuki himself had invited him over as he usually got a secondhand invite from Kirishima whenever they had game nights. Maybe their redheaded friend's words finally drilled into the stubborn teen's head. "Bakubro, be chivalrous and stop trying to exclude Izuku!"
"S-sure Kacchan!" Izuku nodded excitedly, "thank you for including me!"
Katsuki grunted in response and tucked his iPod away in his pocket.
"No need to take that shitty bus," Katsuki held up his car keys. "I can drive us."
"I can sit in the passenger seat?" Anytime Izuku had been in Katsuki's car was against the blond's will, and he was always banished to the back seat with Denki and Shinsou, while Kirishima always took shotgun.
"Who the fuck else is gonna sit there?" Katsuki said irritably.
Once inside the car—a sleek, black 2000 Porsche 911—Izuku adjusted and readjusted his hands in his lap a few times, unsure what to do with himself.
"Don't touch anything, or you're dead," Katsuki warned as he started the car and pressed play on the CD player.
Izuku tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat as his pulse quickened, fearful if he breathed the wrong way he would ruin something in Katsuki's luxury car.
"This is the album I was talking about," Katsuki said as the first song, "My Own Summer (Shove It)" blasted. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before pulling out.
Neither of them spoke during the drive, letting the music speak for them instead. When they pulled into the garage, Katsuki exited the car without a word, and beckoned Izuku to follow him inside.
Izuku padded into the living room, the usual meetup area, but Katsuki was on the stairs with his hand on the railing.
"We're gaming in my room, nerd."
"O-okay!"
Izuku racked his brain, trying to remember the last time Katsuki invited him into his bedroom. Was it elementary school? He obediently followed Katsuki, and surveyed his room with awe. The walls were plastered with band posters—Green Day, Korn, System of a Down, Linkin Park, Nirvana, Deftones, to name a few. What Izuku did remember was Katsuki having all the All Might memorabilia money could buy.
"Wow Kacchan, your room is so cool! I mean, I of course love the All Might stuff you have, but all the band posters are awesome too. Maybe you can show me some of their music sometime."
When Katsuki didn't respond, Izuku's toes curled in his socks. Did he ask for too much?
"Sure, whatever," Katsuki eventually said as he set up his GameCube.
Katsuki was unraveling the orange controller's wire and paused.
"They couldn't come. Just gonna be us."
A pit of emotion Izuku couldn't quite identify formed in his stomach.
"W-what?" he swallowed thickly and his armpits prickled with sweat.
"What? Afraid of getting your ass beat over and over by me?" Katsuki handed Izuku the orange controller with a smirk. "I'll destroy you in a few rounds of Melee before we try the new All Might game. It's a co-op game, so you better carry your fuckin' weight or I'll lose it."
Izuku gingerly cradled the orange controller in his hands as if it were a baby bird. He took a seat next to Katsuki on the cream colored carpet and stole a glance at his friend's face, which was concentrated on the game's character selection.
"Well don't just sit there like a dumbass," Katsuki scolded, "pick your damn character." Red eyes looked from Izuku to the screen pointedly.
"R-right." Izuku was stuttering even more than usual.
With hands steadier than his words, Izuku selected his usual main, Young Link.
"You're going down, Deku!" Katsuki grinned wickedly as he selected his usual main, Ganondorf.
Izuku struggled to keep his mind focused during their first match, and Katsuki crushed him.
"That was pathetic!" Katsuki laughed in his face. "Is that seriously the best you got?"
Izuku frowned, furrowed his brows, and straightened his posture. His competitive nature overtook his nerves, and he defeated Katsuki twice in a row.
"Take that, Kacchan!" Izuku howled with victory.
"You damn nerd," Katsuki grumbled, "I'm really going to destroy you now."
Hours passed, their eyes burned, and their thumbs were beginning to blister from abusing their control sticks.
They were neck and neck, and in their final round, Izuku came out victorious.
"I did it! I won! I—ow!"
Katsuki had punched Izuku's shoulder with a menacing scowl.
"Goddamn cheating nerd!"
"I-I didn't cheat! I beat you fair and square!"
"Whatever. You got lucky. I'm going to demolish you next time."
"Okay Kacchan, we'll see about that."
Katsuki switched out Melee to the new co-op All Might game. For about an hour, Katsuki screamed at Izuku every time he messed up, and Izuku apologized, fully flustered. If he ever pointed out Katsuki's mistakes, the angry teen cussed him out.
"I think my eyes are going to fall out of my head, Kacchan," Izuku yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Yeah, me too." Katsuki's eyes were bloodshot. He saved their progress, turned everything off, and removed the green memory card from its slot.
"Is that a new memory card, Kacchan?" Izuku observed.
"Yeah."
Katsuki grabbed a Sharpie off his desk and wrote something on the memory card with precision. He handed it to Izuku, who was eagerly waiting to see it, and sat back down next to him.
The word "Deku" was written on the memory card, in Katsuki's perfect handwriting. A blush crept up Izuku's neck.
"W-why did you write my name on this, Kacchan?" Izuku was baffled. Was this some sort of joke?
"We'll use this memory card for our games," Katsuki explained casually. "The other memory card is for the extras. I don't want their dumbasses overwriting our saves."
Izuku was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Katsuki to say "sike!" and chuck the memory card out the window. But no such thing occurred, and Izuku brushed his thumb over his name with a small smile.
"I'm honored to share this with you Kacchan!" Izuku beamed at him. "We can play all sorts of games together!"
"Honored? Don't be so dramatic, Deku." Katsuki snatched the card out of his hands and stored it in his night stand. "And don't tell a goddamn soul about this. I don't want those extras thinkin' you got special treatment or some shit."
Izuku looked up at Katsuki and tilted his head. "And by extras, do you mean our friends, Kacchan?"
"Obviously, moron." Katsuki rolled his eyes. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."
"I-I won't tell anyone, Kacchan!" Izuku promised, with his hand splayed across his chest.
He wouldn't dream of it.
Impeccable timing as ever, Katsuki made his grand appearance, wired headphones blasting Green Day at concerning decibels. He bobbed his head to the music, briefly unaware of the crying man.
Izuku wiped his sleeve over his eyes and put his head on Katsuki's desk, bracing his arms on either side as he willed the tears away unsuccessfully. He felt a sharp jab between his shoulder blades that caused him to jump, and he slowly looked up at Katsuki with a red, puffy face.
“Oi, Deku, why the hell are you crying?” Katsuki bent down, his silver chain swung against Izuku’s shoulder. His eyes flicked from the game's loading screen and back to Izuku. “Did you lose against Master Hand again?”
“No,” Izuku croaked.
How could he tell Katsuki he was sobbing over a memory card?
“Did you miss me that much then?" Katsuki snarked, "It’s only been a day.”
“It's only been a day,” Izuku repeated.
Resentment crawled in his heart.
“Yeah, I’m in here sobbing because you were gone for a day,” Izuku emphasized, glowering at Katsuki.
Katsuki rose, somewhat getting the hint. “Look Deku, if you hate the GameCube that much, just don’t play it, okay?”
“Whatever Bakugou,” Izuku snapped and made the mistake of trying to roughly shoulder check Katsuki.
Searing pain hit Izuku’s shoulder as if he ran into a steel pole.
“What the hell?!” Izuku cried in confusion, clutching his already bruising shoulder.
“Deku, you idiot! Why did you do that?”
“What are you, made of concrete?” Izuku exasperated.
Katsuki’s hands hovered uselessly over Izuku’s hurt shoulder.
“Get away from me!” Izuku shrieked. “Didn’t you say you can’t be around me?”
Katsuki flinched.
“Yeah, I did,” Katsuki mumbled.
Izuku palpitated his shoulder and winced. Katsuki had gotten bigger. His physique resembled a Greek God, but Izuku was strong himself. As a child and young teen, he was scrawny and unathletic, and therefore the muse of Katsuki's bullying. Despite this, Izuku admired Katsuki's strength and bold personality, and he followed him around like a lost puppy, no matter how many times he was kicked.
But Izuku did not want to get sucked into another memory right now.
With an indignant sigh, Izuku retrieved his iPod classic and wired headphones from his desk drawer. When Izuku headed for the door, his intuition tingled. Why did he get the feeling that, especially after just thinking about it—
"Let me guess," Izuku sounded defeated as he turned to see Katsuki lacing his running shoes, "you also chose the running class for your P.E. requirement?"
Katsuki rose to his full height and jammed his headphones into his ears.
"Yeah," Katsuki said bitterly, "but you'll never catch up to me."
☽ ☾
Katsuki was true to his word.
No matter how hard Izuku tried, he could not catch up to Katsuki.
The class itself was not competitive. It was supposed to be laid-back; students run laps on the track field and log their mile times. The syllabus promised they would also be able to run the hiking trails in the Sandwash Forest. But, for now, they were deemed with the simple task of running in circles, and many students chose to walk it. Izuku and Katsuki were not those students.
Lungs on fire, panting hard, body fully drenched, shoes worn down, earbuds slipping out of sweaty ears—Izuku was pushing himself over the limit trying to keep up with Katsuki. Squinting his eyes, Izuku could barely make out the blond blur ahead of him. He tried in vain to plug his earbuds back in, but they just kept slipping out. He had been listening to Meteora by Linkin Park in an attempt to purge some of his angst, but Katsuki's effortless running ruined any chance at that.
"Dammit!" Izuku cursed, balling his fists. Izuku really shouldn't be surprised, Katsuki was always faster and stronger than him. But for whatever reason, Izuku thought he had a chance of at least being faster than him now. Old Izuku would be impressed, and use this as motivation to get faster. Present Izuku was frustrated, and unsure what to do with himself.
Izuku's body eventually gave out, and he resigned himself to walking the track in defeat.
"Told ya so."
Izuku bit down on his chapped lower lip.
"Brag all you want. I'll beat you eventually."
"I dunno about that, Deku," Katsuki replied, walking backwards in front of the shorter man.
Katsuki was sporting a bright orange headband that pulled his bangs back, matching orange basketball shorts, a black t-shirt, and black tennis shoes. He had one earbud in while the other dangled out the front of his shirt. There wasn't a single bead of sweat on Katsuki's face or body. Not a sign from head to toe that he had been running at an ungodly pace for nearly two hours.
"You didn't even break a sweat?!" Izuku exclaimed, examining Katsuki.
And he wasn't bragging about beating Izuku.
Katsuki shrugged.
"But you…you're the sweatiest person I know," Izuku protested, his pace picking up, "like seriously, the sweatiest person—"
"N-no! Stop it, I know I'm right!" Izuku panted, exhausted. "In track and cross country, you sweated more than anyone on both teams. And now, after sprinting for almost two hours, you're, you're completely dry!"
"Would you prefer me wet?" Katsuki taunted.
"No!" Izuku stopped in his tracks. "Stop doing that! Deflecting with, with weird jokes!" Izuku used his soggy t-shirt to ineffectively wipe sweat off his face. "What's with that anyway? You never said stuff like that before."
Oh.
It was so obvious.
"Wow," Izuku laughed humorlessly, "this is low, even for you, Bakugou."
"Hah?" Katsuki halted, genuine confusion on his face.
Izuku crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
"You find out I'm gay, and now you're making sexual jokes to bully me, right?" Izuku narrowed his eyes.
Katsuki blinked rapidly, his brain connecting the dots of Izuku's accusation.
"No! What the fuck, Deku? You think I would act like that?" Katsuki sounded offended.
"How could I know how would you act?" Izuku countered coldly.
Katsuki's face was the definition of pissed off.
"Not that it's any of your business," Katsuki scolded, "but I'm—"
"Am I looking at two new recruits for the track team?"
Both men whipped their heads in the direction of the familiar, booming voice.
"Bakugou, Midoriya, we didn't get the proper chance to speak at the beginning of class."
"H-hi Professor Todoroki," Izuku extended his hand to the mountain of a man before them, "it's been a while."
"Please, call me Coach Endeavor, or just Endeavor will do," Endeavor's massive hand took Izuku's and squeezed it much too tight.
"O-okay, Endeavor." Izuku had to bite down on his tongue to prevent a cry of pain from escaping him.
Katsuki's eyes flicked from their handshake to Izuku's face. His upper lip curled in distaste.
"Bakugou," Endeavor addressed, offering Katsuki his hand.
Izuku tensed, expecting Katsuki to leave Endeavor hanging. Instead, Katsuki grasped Endeavor's hand forcefully and yanked it down, causing the larger man to stumble forward to his height.
"Long time no see, Endeavor," Katsuki grinned like a madman, his wild eyes challenging Endeavor's.
Izuku was speechless.
And terrified.
"Looks like someone's been working out." Endeavor released himself from Katsuki's grip and glared down at the blond. "I see your immature temper is still the same. Why not transfer that anger onto the field by joining my track and field team?"
"Not a fat fucking chance in Hell," Katsuki spat, his chin raised defiantly.
Endeavor's glower intensified for a moment then fell into neutrality.
"What a waste of talent."
When Endeavor was out of earshot, Izuku let out the breath he was holding.
"Um, Bakugou," Izuku rubbed his sore hand, "what was that about?"
"Let's calm down now, haha," Izuku said nervously, and looked behind Katsuki to make sure Endeavor didn't hear him.
"I hate that guy."
"Clearly. But he's our professor, so…"
"So what? He doesn't deserve to breathe. And why does he force people to use that lame ass nickname?"
"Okay," Izuku was growing concerned. "Do you two even know each other that well? What's with this hidden vendetta? And you knew he was the professor of this class when you signed up. Well, I was kinda surprised to see him teaching this class. Although it doesn't really require teaching, just supervising. Did you know he's a criminology professor here too? Shouto told me that, but he doesn't tell me much about his dad, they're still not on great terms. Anyway, you have to act normal Bakugou, or he might use your outbursts against you when grading—"
"Shut up!" Katsuki snapped, his teeth bared. "You seriously gotta stop with that rambling shit."
Izuku balked at Katsuki. "Don't bite my head off. I'm not the one unraveling here," Izuku insisted. "And what was with that handshake? Why bother having a dick measuring contest with him?"
"People like him need to be put in their place," Katsuki replied cryptically.
Izuku made eye contact with Katsuki's bright orange headband and laughed.
"What's so funny?" Katsuki growled.
"It's just," Izuku unsuccessfully repressed a giggle, "it's hard to find you intimidating with that neon headband on."
Katsuki looked up at his headband then scowled at Izuku. The whole look and dramatic reaction made Katsuki look younger, which softened Izuku a little.
"Whatever. It's better than running with dirty, matted hair in my eyes like you."
"Rude?"
Izuku shifted his feet uneasily.
"What…what were you going to say Bakugou?" Izuku asked timidly, "before Endeavor came over?"
"Nothing," Katsuki answered too quickly.
"You know it's okay to be gay, right?" Izuku ventured, "I know I'm kind of a late bloomer."
"I know it's okay," Katsuki groaned, and scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Oh, um, okay, well, it's just, those comments, I—"
"I knew I was gay since high school."
The confession astonished Izuku. This was the first semblance of any normal conversation they've had since Katsuki's return. He didn't want to ruin it by saying something to set Katsuki off, so he just waited, and tentatively peeked at Katsuki's face.
"Junior year," Katsuki added, kicking a small stone on the path.
"I had no idea," Izuku's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Like I said," Katsuki kicked another stone, "it's none of your business."
"Well, thank you for telling me anyway," Izuku said sincerely.
"I only told you so you wouldn't accuse me of being homophobic," Katsuki cringed at the last word. "So don't go thinking this has some deeper meaning or some shit."
"Right," Izuku's lips formed a hard line, "why bond over a shared identity with someone who clearly doesn't care about me?"
Katsuki furrowed his brows and opened his mouth for a second before closing it shut.
"I'm going to train harder," Izuku suddenly said with conviction, "and I'm going to beat you, Bakugou."
Izuku put his earbuds back in and ran past Katsuki before he could say anything.
Summary: Nosy Deku tries to go through Kacchan's things
Kacchan's gaydar is broken
Ochako should charge Deku for therapy sessions
Classes begin!
Notes:
Deku's song: Sleep to Dream by Fiona Apple
Kacchan's song: Burnout by Green Day
When Izuku woke the next morning, the bed parallel to his was empty, with no evidence that Katsuki ever came back to the room to sleep. A black backpack was sitting in Katsuki’s desk chair, the only proof that Izuku had a roommate at all.
Curiosity consumed Izuku. With tentative hands, Izuku fingered the backpack's zipper, debating on whether or not to actually rummage through its contents. Guilt pooled in his stomach as he wondered how he would feel if Katsuki looked through his stuff, and he knew he was being a hypocrite as he pulled slightly on the zipper.
“What are you doing?” A voice boomed behind him.
Izuku jumped with a high pitched shriek.
“N-n-nothing!” Izuku stammered, shame washing over him like a tidal wave.
Katsuki glared at him as he opened the backpack.
“Nothing huh?” Katsuki mocked, “too bad for you rat, there’s nothing interesting in here.” He pulled out a heap of clothes and began to meticulously fold them on his bed.
“Rat?” Izuku repeated, mouth agape. He knew he was in the wrong for being nosy, but he couldn’t help but feel the insult was a bit unfair.
“Good morning, by the way,” Izuku swerved his way out of an apology. “Can you not sneak up on me like that anymore? You’re going to give me heart problems.”
“Tch. Not my fault you have poor awareness of your surroundings. Maybe you should pull your head outta your ass and pay attention.”
Katsuki finished folding his clothes and carefully placed them into the drawers of the small wooden dresser adjacent to his bed.
Izuku’s cheeks pinked, highlighting the freckles that danced across his face.
“Where did you go last night? You disappeared after I…Did you even sleep in here? I didn’t hear you come in at all,” Izuku questioned.
“Where I sleep,” Katsuki spoke slowly, leaning down into Izuku’s personal space, "is none of your business.”
Katsuki’s warm breath smelled like cinnamon and something metallic. Frozen in place, Izuku was deeply uncomfortable with their proximity to each other.
When Izuku didn’t respond, Katsuki’s gaze deepened, and he prodded his lip ring with his tongue. His skin was creamy white, serving a stark contrast to his vibrant red eyes, which were also accentuated with smudged, dark eyeliner.
“You’re wearing makeup,” Izuku blurted.
“Yeah? You got a problem with that, Deku?” Katsuki snorted, backing up, giving Izuku the chance to breathe his own air again.
“No-not at all!” Izuku chirped, waving his hands in front of him defensively. “I’m just, um, noticing things,” he finished lamely.
Katsuki had always been fashionable, whether he was wearing basics that flattered his fit, muscular body, or grungy, emo, skater clothes, but he had never had piercings before, nor makeup of any kind. Izuku was taking in the full picture, or what he could, from the surface.
“Didn’t you wear that last night?” Katsuki disapproved, lazily gesturing to Izuku’s outfit.
“Uh, yeah, but it’s not dirty or anything,” Izuku said self consciously. He looked Katsuki up and down, noting the wide leg, black cargo pants, black sneakers, and his red t-shirt over a long white sleeve shirt.
“You don’t look any better,” Izuku attempted, frowning to try and sell it.
“Hah!” Katsuki barked, a wolfish grin spread across his face. “Good one, Deku.”
Izuku cocked his head, drawn in by Katsuki’s teeth.
"Your teeth," Izuku pointed out, squinting to get a better look.
Katsuki’s grin died on his face. “I have class,” he grumbled.
Izuku nodded absently, brain elsewhere as he too headed out the door for class.
☽ ☾
Izuku’s first class was American Literature, and the professor spent most of the class time poring over the syllabus that Izuku had already studied back to back. A slow start, but optimist Izuku knew to be patient.
He was happily humming as he hiked the mountainous campus, enjoying the salty sea air rolling over from the coast. The redwoods that bordered the campus were gorgeous and towered over the school’s buildings.
A ringing phone grabbed Izuku’s attention, and he realized it was his. He pulled the chunky grey flip phone out of his pocket and pressed the green call button.
“Hello?”
“Zuku!” Answered the cheery voice on the other line.
“Ochako!” Izuku laughed. “What’s up?”
“Turn around.”
Izuku did as he was told, pivoting on his foot to turn around.
“Heyyy,” Ochako’s voice echoed, as she was standing right in front of Izuku with a bright smile on her face.
She pulled Izuku in for a warm hug. Izuku sighed happily, hugging his best friend back tightly.
“I missed you,” Ochako mumbled into Izuku’s chest before letting go.
“I missed you too,” Izuku’s eyes watered, the hug giving him much needed endorphins.
“Aw Izuku, what’s wrong? You can’t have missed me that much," her concerned eyes belied her teasing.
“Oh god, you won’t believe who I’m roommates with.”
“Who?”
“Bakugou.”
“You’re joking.”
“Wish I was.”
“How?”
“I…don’t know.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“Studying chemical engineering, I guess.”
“But, he fell off the face of the earth! Where has he been?”
“No idea.”
“Wow.”
They blinked at each other, then fell into laughter.
“What the hell Izuku, this is so weird, even for you.”
“Even for me? This isn’t my fault, you know.”
“I know, but you always have weird stuff going on.”
“I guess.”
Ochako grabbed Izuku’s hand and pulled him to a bench that sat opposite the Icarus fountain. Sculpted out of marble, Icarus was mid flight with his makeshift wings spread out, water spouting from the tips of them as well as his hands.
“Okay, now tell me everything,” Ochako held onto Izuku’s hand to ground him.
“Well,” Izuku started, admiring the beauty of the fountain. “He just appeared in my dorm out of nowhere, soaking wet by the way, and didn’t answer any of my questions. He was extremely moody, either angry, mysterious, or somewhat human toward me. He complained about how disorganized I was, and started messing with my stuff!”
“then, Shouto comes in, and everything’s really awkward. He called Shouto ‘Half and Half’, you know, because of his hair, and was really rude to him. It was so embarrassing. Then he says, ‘I can’t be around you’," Izuku mocked with a deep voice, “and leaves! Then, we have this social mixer in the common room, and he shows up, even though that’s totally not his thing, and he partners up with me, because I froze like an idiot and didn’t choose anyone else. So, we have this questionnaire thing, and Bakugou says he’s a night person. Since when was that true? He’s always been like an old man going to bed super early and waking up before the birds do. So what gives? Anyway, one of the questions kinda allowed me to ask him where he’s been, and he shuts me down again. Can you believe that? We were supposed to do a trust fall but I refused, but I bumped into someone and fell, and Bakugou caught me. It was so embarrassing. Oh, and he’s covered in piercings. He has a ton of ear piercings, an eyebrow piercing on his right eyebrow, a lip ring on his left, and a tongue piercing. And to top it all off, he wears eyeliner sometimes. So then, this morning—“
Scandalized, Ochako brought her free hand to her mouth.
“—-Bakugou has a tongue ring?” Ochako interrupted Izuku’s rambling, “and a lip ring? And he wears make up?”
“Yes! Thank you, oh my god, he was making me feel like I was insane for pointing everything out. I mean, come on, that’s a lot of changes.” Izuku squirmed uneasily. “So, yeah, this morning, he wasn't in the dorm, he has nothing there, except a backpack, so I was about to open it to see if I could find some answers, but he came in right when I was about to,” he finished sheepishly.
“You didn’t,” Ochako gasped. “Oh my god Izuku, he’s making you crazy and it’s only been a day.”
The tips of Izuku’s ears burned red. “Well yeah, I mean…he was my…”
What was he exactly? And what was he now?
Ochako softened, her thumbs rubbing circles over the top of Izuku’s hand. “I’m sorry Izuku. That’s…a lot. I wish he would stop being an angry crybaby and just open up to you. I know how much you two mean to each other.”
“Meant,” Izuku corrected, his lips forming a hard line. “If I did mean anything to Bakugou, he would’ve answered one of my million phone calls. Maybe I never meant anything to him at all.”
“Izuku…you know that’s not true,” Ochako murmured. “I know you’re hurt, and your hurt is valid, but Bakugou definitely cares for you.”
Tears threatened to spring in Izuku’s eyes again, his chest tight with unshed emotions.
“But,” Ochako continued, “he is an asshole, and I am not his biggest fan right now. His behavior is childish, and I don’t want you to stress yourself out more, you’ve worked really hard to get here.”
Izuku squeezed Ochako’s hand and then let go. “Let’s talk about you, how are your teaching classes so far?”
“Great. Well, it’s just syllabus day, and I’ve had one class so far, but I’m really excited. Soon enough, I’ll get my student teaching placement.”
Ochako had graduated with a Child Development degree, and was now enrolled in Sandwash’s highly accredited teaching credential program.
“I’m happy to hear that, you’re amazing Ochako, you’re going to be the best elementary school teacher ever!” Izuku cheered, grinning from ear to ear.
“You’re so cute Izuku,” Ochako giggled, “I just wanna shrink you and put you in my pocket!”
“And I’m the weird one?” Izuku teased, giggling into Ochako, their heads bumping together.
“Damn, are you this touchy with everyone?”
Izuku and Ochako jumped and clutched each other simultaneously, like two cartoon characters would.
Looming over them was none other than the devil himself. His body was positioned perfectly in front of Icarus, the wings appeared to be sprouting out of his back.
“Are you stalking me or something?” Izuku puzzled.
“Bakugou!” Ochako sprang to her feet. “It’s been so long. How—how are you?” She reached out her hand awkwardly, and when Katsuki ignored it, she dropped her hand back down to Izuku’s, who was also now standing.
“I’m fine Pink Cheeks,” Katsuki muttered, eyeing their clasped hands. “You two are still going strong then, huh?”
Izuku rolled his eyes.
“No silly, that barely lasted a couple months. We quickly found out we were both gay,” Ochako said with a sly smile, leaning against Izuku’s shoulder.
For once, Katsuki didn’t have a snarky comeback. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his mouth fell open enough to reveal his tongue piercing.
“You didn’t know?” Ochako quirked a brow, highly amused. “I mean, it’s obvious, Bakugou. Your gaydar is broken, but I guess that makes sense for a straight man.”
“I’m not—whatever. I have to get to class.”
Katsuki dropped his skateboard down unceremoniously to the ground and made no further comment as he skated away.
“Dramatic much?” Ochako snorted, “he literally just skated away from a normal conversation.”
“Was…was Bakugou about to say he wasn’t straight?” Izuku said, his voice barely audible.
“Maybe? If anything I bet he’s bi, but maybe he is gay,” Ochako shrugged, then studied Izuku’s disconcerted face.
“Right, yeah, maybe.”
“You okay Zuku? I tried to deflect as much as possible so you didn’t have to engage.”
Ochako was always sweetly protective of Izuku, as he was to her, they were each other’s rocks through their tumultuous teen years and now into their twenties. Ochako had held Izuku as he cried and cried over his Kacchan, and Izuku held Ochako as she struggled to come out to her family.
“Yeah, I just,” Izuku ran his fingers through his hair, grabbing at the roots and pulling them taut. “I think you’re right, Bakugou is driving me crazy.”
“Subject change,” Ochako offered, gently removing Izuku’s hands from his hair. “Let’s talk about Shouto.” A mischievous glint crossed her eyes.
“Oh, um,” Izuku blushed red just at the mentioning of the man’s name. “He’s great. He’s my RA, as I told you, so he’s been really helpful making me feel comfortable, despite, you know…” Bakugou.
“So, has he made any moves on you?” Ochako pressed, her eyes seemed to dance.
Shouto had placed his hand on Izuku’s back, occasionally brushed a stray curl behind Izuku’s ear, and touched his hands and shoulders more often than a male friend would. Izuku always accepted his affections, but made no moves on his own, as he had no idea how to in the first place.
“Here and there,” Izuku answered, “but just you know, some touching, no kissing or anything like that.”
“My sweet virgin Izuku! Swooned by touches ‘here and there’,” Ochako bumped her shoulder against Izuku’s playfully.
“Shh!” Izuku hushed, “I really don’t want that to be public knowledge.”
“Sorry!” Ochako chuckled. “Anyway, I have intel from Mina. She said that Kirishima said that Shouto talks about you a lot.”
“Really?” Izuku swallowed. “Should Kirishima be telling Mina stuff the other guys say?”
“Oh come on, everyone knows Kirishima is in love with Mina. If she asked him to bark, he’d strap on a leash.”
“What an image,” Izuku cringed, stifling a laugh.
“Anyways, you’re avoiding the topic. I thought you liked Shouto?”
“I do, I’m a little nervous about ruining our friendship. What if I’m misreading his signals? What if we date and it’s a disaster? What if we date and break up and then our friend group disintegrates? What if he starts dating me then realizes he doesn’t see me that way? What if he’s super experienced and is turned off by my virgin-ness? What if—“
“—what if aliens invade the earth tomorrow? What if a meteor crashes into earth and we all explode?” Ochako interjected, matching Izuku’s intensity. “Izuku, I love you, but you have the tendency to catastrophize. If you run yourself in circles, you’ll never actually experience life. Aren’t things worth exploring with Shouto?”
A beat passed.
Izuku wrung his hands then reached for his backpack on the bench. “You’re right Ochako, as always,” he exhaled. “Okay, I’ll try. But I’m not as brave as you, I’m going to wait for an obvious opening and take it. I’m not cool enough to knock on his door and confess.”
“Of course Zuku, you do it your way. I’m sure whatever approach you take, Shouto will be pleased with,” Ochako winked.
Izuku’s blush deepened, spreading from his face to his chest.
“Shit,” Ochako muttered, checking her watch. “I gotta go to my next class, but we’ll catch up later. Remember, Kiri’s throwing a party this weekend at the guys house! I’ll call you about it.”
“Yeah, okay!” Izuku called after her, and made his way to his next class.
☽ ☾
Izuku was running up a giant hill to his next class, Literary Criticism. Gasping for breath, Izuku rested his forehead outside the classroom door. Even though he was in great shape, he clearly was not accustomed to having to hike to his classes. Checking his watch, he was only a minute late, but his stomach was a swarm of bees as he opened the door and ducked inside.
The professor was already going over the class syllabus on the overhead projector as Izuku scurried to the back of the lecture hall, where one corner seat was available. He discreetly unzipped his encumbered backpack and placed his textbook, notebook, and pencil pouch on his desk.
“Now who’s stalking who?” A sarcastic voice said next to him.
No.
“Bakugou?” Izuku whisper shouted. And sure enough it was Katsuki, leaned back in the seat next to him with his hands folded behind his head.
“The one and only.”
The professor continued to drone on about the syllabus Izuku already knew by heart.
“What are you doing here? You’re in the wrong class. Seriously, do you have brain damage? How can you confuse Literary Criticism with chemical engineering—mnngh!”
Izuku’s accusations came to a halt as Katsuki thrust a ringed finger against Izuku’s moving lips.
“Shut up!” Katsuki hissed, “you’re going to get us kicked out. Keep your damn voice down.” His fiery eyes bore into Izuku’s for a moment longer before removing his finger.
“Did, did you seriously just shush me like that?” Izuku was beyond mortified.
“Yeah, and I’ll do it again if you don’t start whispering.”
They started to receive irritated looks from their neighbors, and Izuku shrank in his chair.
“What are you doing here Bakugou?” Izuku was going mad with how many times he’s asked the man this.
“I’m minoring in English, Deku,” he whispered back, “you’re not the only one who knows how to read.”
Izuku glared at him. “Yeah, because that’s all it takes to be an English major, being literate.”
Katsuki only frowned in response, spinning his pencil in his hand lazily.
“Are you taking any other Lit classes?” Izuku ventured, his voice laced with dread.
“Creative Poetry.”
“No.”
“Yes, fuck you.”
“Fuck me,” Izuku agreed, his cursing earning surprise from Katsuki.
Izuku buried his head in his hands and groaned. His green curls flopped down in front of his face when he dropped his hands onto his desk, palms face up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katsuki staring down at his palms.
“How do you even have time for your other classes? You must be taking a lot of units.”
“it’s a three hour night class,” Izuku continued, his voice low, “can’t imagine you sitting still for that long. You know, with poetry, you have to be in touch with your emotions, you can’t just screw off and shut everyone out when they ask you questions. Not sure how you’re going to manage when—“
“Shut up!” Someone from the row in front them shouted, and Izuku wished the ground would swallow him whole.
They had both stopped talking after that, and the professor used every minute of class to detail the syllabus, emphasizing that they would be spending the entirety of the semester studying Frankenstein through various critical lenses. Frankenstein happened to be Izuku’s favorite classic novel of all time, and his nerdiness dominated his prior embarrassment of being called out in class.
Once class ended, the two men found themselves walking out of the building together.
“Remember when we read Frankenstein sophomore year? Wow, I can’t believe I haven’t reread it since, that was like, eight years ago. Now we have so much more life experience to analyze the book in a whole new way! And we’re studying it through five different critical lenses, think of all the papers we’ll be writing—“
“You are such a damn nerd,” Katsuki moaned, “seriously, do you ever stop talking?”
“Whatever,” Izuku huffed, “I’ve just been looking forward to this for so long, but I have been talking a lot. I'm really thirsty.”
Old habits die hard, Izuku realized as he found himself outstretching his hand to Katsuki. Back in high school, starting junior year, Izuku and Katsuki walked to every class together. Izuku would ramble until his mouth ran dry, and Katsuki would chastise him and give him his water bottle on a near daily basis.
But that was a long time ago.
“Uh, oops, my body moved on its own haha…” Izuku dipped his head bashfully, eyes trained on his walking feet.
“I don’t have water for you, Deku,” Katsuki sounded almost apologetic.
“First, you’re not a morning person anymore, and now what, you don’t drink water?” Izuku joked nervously.
“Something like that.”
Izuku glanced up at Katsuki, perplexed by his strange humor.
“What does that even mean? Are you trying to be funny or something?” Izuku scrutinized the blond.
“Nothin’. Bad joke,” Katsuki dragged his skateboard on the ground before stepping onto it.
Izuku thought he was going to skate away again, but he remained, matching Izuku’s brisk walking pace.
“So, you going to Kirishima’s stupid party this weekend?”
“You’re invited?” Izuku was shocked.
Katsuki scowled at that. “Of course I am. We’re friends.”
“But like I’ve been saying, you disappeared! You walked back into his life and he said 'okay, no further questions'?”
“Yeah, actually. Most guys don’t ask as many questions as you. He asked, I said, 'fuck off I’m here now', and that was that.”
“I’m sure Kirishima is dying to know, but is too afraid of pushing you. He will expect an answer sooner or later as the shock of your return wears off,” Izuku warned.
“Are you going or not Deku?” Katsuki asked tiredly.
“I am.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
Notes:
Imagine being Kacchan's roomie and classmate...sigh.
Thank you for reading!!
Poor Deku. He just wants answers. How long must he wait?? (a whiiilllle)
Please leave a comment and tell me what you think :D I always replyyy <3
Izuku is a college transfer student ready to start his journey.
Katsuki, four years after his disappearance, shows up in Izuku's dorm room, raising more questions than answers.
And there's something very, very different about him.
((AU college in coastal/mountainous CA set in the 2000s + vampires))
New fic that will be a delicious, long, slow burn.
Notes:
Izuku's birthday gave me the courage to finally post this.
Enjoy!!
Deku's song: tower of memories by ivri
Kacchan's song: Lying From You by Linkin Park
The sun's attempt to shine through the foggy grey of Sandwash was nearly futile, some gentle rays managed to softly pour through the quaint windows of the modest dorm room.
Sitting on his tiny twin bed, Izuku's exhausted eyes scanned the syllabi of his four English Literature courses. Being a junior transfer student meant he had to take all his major's classes at once; therefore, he had to read an innumerable amount of literature, and consequently write an innumerable amount of papers. Ever so studious, Izuku knew he could handle this mammoth of work, but it would be demanding.
Luckily, the stress of his poverty had lifted significantly, with his well earned merit scholarship covering both his tuition and on campus upperclassman housing expenses. After working diligently at his mother's charming book store and completing his general education at the Sandwash community college, Izuku finally made it to the University of California, Sandwash, where some of his high school friends still attended.
A soft knock at the door broke Izuku's intense concentration.
"Come in!" Izuku called, smiling, already knowing whose gentle knock it was.
"Good morning, Izuku," Shouto greeted, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.
"Good morning, Shouto," Izuku parroted, graciously taking the warm coffee.
"I thought you might be up early," Shouto said, taking the seat at Izuku's little wooden desk.
Shouto's half red, half white hair was pristine, his chiseled, handsome face composed as usual. An ugly burn scar surrounded his teal eye, marring the left side of his face, not quite disfiguring him, but adding an air of mystery to him. Standing at 6'2", with a lithe, but strong body—he was quite intimidating, but Izuku was starting to get familiar with the tenderness underneath.
He had been quite accommodating, aiding Izuku in moving in to his new dorm, and giving him a thorough tour of the coastal, mountainous campus. Shouto being a Resident Advisor of the dorm certainly helped Izuku feel welcome as well.
Izuku sighed, rubbed his eyes until he saw sparks of color, then handed the stack of papers to his friend.
"I'm just looking over my courses and trying to come up with a schedule," Izuku explained, excitement growing in his voice. "I know it's a lot, but honestly I'm so relieved to be done with gen ed."
Shouto's heterochromatic eyes met Izuku's green eyes with admiration.
"Nothing you can't handle."
Izuku couldn't stop the warmth blooming in his chest.
"Right," he breathed, breaking Shouto's eye contact. "Are you ready for your last year, Shouto?"
"Then medical school!" Izuku finished for him, his eyes gleaming with adoration. "You're really amazing Shouto, you're going to help so many people!"
Shouto's ears tinged pink and it was his turn to avert his gaze from Izuku.
The sudden pitter-patter of rain upon the windows filled the comfortable silence between the two men. They were both well accustomed to the moodiness of the weather, oscillating between warm sunshine, foggy grey, smatterings of rain, sudden downpours and, on occasion, theatrical thunderstorms.
"I was told you'll be getting a roommate after all, someone signed up last minute," Shouto said, changing the subject. "I assume they'll be arriving later today."
"How exciting, I'm really getting the full dorm experience, like everyone else." Izuku felt sheepish. He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed that most of his friends had started and graduated college earlier than him, he just hated the feeling of being behind everyone else. The prospects of a roommate made him feel more normal; he wasn't the only one with a new beginning.
Seeming to read Izuku's mind, Shouto handed him a fluorescent green flyer.
"There will be a meet and greet for this dorm floor tonight, every transfer is a little nervous about making friends."
Seashell floor dorm mixer! Pizza, ice breakers, games, and more! Izuku read, hope swelling in is heart.
"This looks great Shouto," Izuku folded the corners of the flyer. "It'll be nice to meet new people. And, if no one likes me, we have so many friends near us anyway."
"Of course people will like you, Izuku," Shouto objected, standing up. "I have to go set up, but I'll check on you later, okay?"
Izuku nodded, praying he wasn't blushing as his RA left his room.
☽ ☾
While waiting for Shouto to return, Izuku had gone to the campus bookstore to retrieve all the books he needed for his courses, which turned out to be a mountain's worth. The sky had unloaded heavy rainfall, but luckily Izuku had been prepared with his green raincoat and umbrella, and had managed to keep his precious books dry.
With an exhale, Izuku dumped all his materials onto his desk, and plopped himself down on his desk chair.
Suddenly, Izuku's door blasted open, the doorknob slammed against the wall like a gunshot, and in stormed—
"K-Kacchan?!" Izuku exclaimed, incredulous. He had jumped to his feet like there was a fire drill. His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
He didn't have the time or grace to retract the old childhood nickname he had given the angry, grown man standing before him.
Katsuki Bakugou glowered down at Izuku, his sculpted arms crossed defiantly across his broad chest, his spiky, ash blonde hair was soaked from the rain, plastered against his pale face haphazardly. He bore no raincoat or jacket, simply donning a tight, black—soaking wet—t-shirt and wide leg, baggy blue jeans.
"Deku," Katsuki sneered, his red eyes ablaze, "don't call me that."
Izuku's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
"B-b-but you just called me 'Deku'!" he cried indignantly, reverting back to his high school self.
When was the last time he stuttered this much?
"Tch. Well you're a goddamn Deku, that's the difference," Katsuki countered as if that was self-explanatory. He carefully removed his muddy shoes and made a quick survey of the small dorm room, which was becoming quite claustrophobic for Izuku.
"W-what are you doing in here?" Izuku cursed himself for stuttering again. He watched as Katsuki's disgruntled face scanned Izuku's side of the room, from his unmade bed, collection of All Might posters covering the wall, and desk cluttered with an obscene amount of books and journals.
"This place is a fucking mess," Katsuki grumbled, ignoring Izuku's question.
Izuku flushed with growing anger.
Who does Kacchan think he is? Waltzing into my room without so much of as a hello, an explanation as to why he is here, as to where he has been the last four years?!
"Oi, Deku, you know I can hear everything you're saying, right?" Katsuki rolled his eyes as he made for Izuku's desk, his shoulder knocked into Izuku's unapologetically, causing the smaller man to stumble slightly.
"Well, I have a right to know the answers to those questions. I mean, I feel like I have whiplash right now!" Izuku's voice squeaked at the end of his sentence, causing his face to flush further with embarrassment.
Katsuki clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You really oughta get your shit together nerd, especially if we have to share this damn prison cell of a room."
"What?" Izuku said dumbly, his brain not comprehending the news.
"You heard me," Katsuki replied, stacking Izuku's strewn books and journals into neat piles.
Finally, Katsuki turned to face Izuku and shoved his large hands aggressively into the pockets of his soggy jeans. Izuku slowly looked up at his former friend—er, frenemy?—and took in his familiar face, which was now more matured, his jawline somehow stronger, his eyes fiercer. Green eyes widened as they took in a silver eyebrow piercing, varying silver and black earrings, and a silver lip ring.
A lip ring?
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Katsuki said sarcastically, not turning away from Izuku's gawking.
It was then, when Katsuki was talking, that Izuku noticed he had a tongue piercing too. They all suited Katsuki well, Izuku couldn't deny it, but they marked how much time had passed, how much had changed, how—
How Katsuki ghosted Izuku.
"Where have you been…" Izuku trailed off, half-falling into his desk chair. "You…you disappeared Ka—Bakugou," he corrected bitterly. "I called you. I called so many times."
A cocktail of hurt, confusion, and anger churned in Izuku's stomach as his adrenaline wore off and reality started to sink in.
Katsuki's whole body tensed and he ground his teeth down in lieu of a response.
Izuku scowled uncharacteristically, and he was on his feet again as anger dominated his undercurrent emotions.
"You left all of us. Shouto, Ochako, Denki, Kirishima, Mina, Shinsou, Iida, Momo, Jirou," Izuku counted off hotly, "and, a-and me…"
Izuku's lower lip wobbled against his will, his hands started shaking and didn't stop when he closed his fists at his sides.
Katsuki's eyes widened fractionally, his lips parted as he met Izuku's teary eyes.
"De-"
"Is everything okay in here?"
Both men jumped and turned to see Shouto standing in the door frame, clipboard and pen in hand.
"Bakugou," Shouto said, surprise crossing his face momentarily before settling on scrutiny.
"Half and half," Katsuki retorted, his face returning to a scowl, "we're kind of in the middle of something, if you don't mind."
"Charming as ever I see," Shouto looked at Izuku with concern, "are you alright, Izuku?"
Izuku rubbed his eyes and swallowed thickly. "I'm fine," he said unconvincingly. It was bad enough Katsuki was here, an emotional tornado of mass destruction, and even worse to have Shouto get sucked into his vortex.
Shouto wove around the blond man to Izuku's side and placed his hand on the small of Izuku's back comfortingly. With a shudder, Izuku leaned into the touch, grateful to have an anchor as his legs felt more and more like jelly.
Katsuki's eyebrows raised briefly at their physical contact before furrowing them.
"Why are you here?" Katsuki muttered tiredly. He ran a silver ring adorned hand through his hair in a sorry attempt to fix the sopping mess.
"It's nice to see you after all these years too," Shouto responded coolly, "I am the Resident Advisor of this, your, dorm floor so—"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Katsuki groaned, "we're the same age. Ain't know way you're actually in charge of us."
"Ka-Bakugou!" Izuku admonished, "you can't talk to people like that, we're your—we were your friends!"
An uncomfortable silence enveloped the room, palpable tension replaced speech, and the only sound to be heard was the now torrential downpour of rain.
When Katsuki's upper lip curled, Shouto spoke first.
"As your RA, I coordinate occasional social gatherings, act as a mediator for quarterly roommate meetings, and address any concerns or conflicts from the residents of this floor," Shouto explained matter-of-factly.
"Well, I have some concerns and conflicts Half and Half," Katsuki grunted, "I can't room with him." Katsuki jabbed his finger at Izuku while holding eye contact with Shouto.
"Wow," Izuku gaped, absolutely floored. He couldn't keep up with Katsuki's jarring mood swings. Just when he thought he had seen a hint of regret, of something, in Katsuki's eyes, it was immediately replaced with rage.
"You're going to have to manage. Accommodation changes are not given this early, you have to be an adult about this, which, if you didn't realize, you are. Or, are supposed to be," Shouto maintained his composure.
"Whatever," Katsuki grumbled and picked up his skateboard he had left propped up against the wall.
On the bottom of the board was a cluster of stickers, and Izuku noticed a faded, red dynamite stick decal, the same one he had given Katsuki when they were in high school. He was then thrust into a mini flashback of Katsuki trying to teach him how to skate, and how he had failed miserably. He kept falling off the board, scraping his knees and palms bloody, withstanding the screams of Katsuki calling him a klutzy idiot. But no matter how many times Izuku crashed and burned, Katsuki was always there with his hand outstretched, ready to pick him up again.
"Here," Shouto handed Katsuki the same fluorescent green flyer he had given Izuku. "There's a mixer for the floor tonight. Attendance is encouraged but not required."
Katsuki wordlessly snatched the flyer out of Shouto's hand and stuffed it in his pants pocket.
"I'm going," Izuku heard himself say out loud. He chewed on his lower lip, his nerves threatening to swallow him whole.
Red eyes flicked to Izuku's then back to Shouto's.
"Meeting a bunch of extras, what a great way to spend my night."
Katsuki made for the door, white knuckling his skateboard to his side as he stepped halfway out.
"Where are you going? It's pouring out there now!" Izuku sputtered, taking a step toward the ghost of a man he once knew.
Katsuki glared at Izuku over his shoulder, his long lashes clumped together from the rain.
"I can't be around you."
And with that, Katsuki Bakugou was gone again.
☽ ☾
Several hours had passed since Katsuki's abrupt arrival and departure, and the rain had stopped, leaving the sky a melancholy grey.
Shouto had been comforting by offering to listen to Izuku vent. Izuku had politely declined, he was in no shape to explore and unload his Bakugou trauma. It had taken everything in him to not to burst into tears at what Katsuki said.
I can't be around you.
Well, Katsuki had made that abundantly clear, when he abandoned Izuku and his friends, but now, he is back, raising more questions than answers.
Where did he go? How is he a transfer student now? He was enrolled in Sandwash years ago but quickly dropped out. He must've completed his first two years somewhere else, but where? What did he do during the two years before that? What were his reasons for leaving? Why come back? Why now? Why now, when Izuku had finally given up on Katsuki's return, did he come back four years later? And why, why did the universe put Katsuki in a tiny dorm room with Izuku?
Izuku was spiraling, muttering to himself as he worried his lower lip, his pencil drawing distressed doodles in the margins of his diary.
Writing out his emotions always felt like a great purge, but, right now, Izuku was speechless, even in his medium of choice. The pencil he was gripping snapped in half, causing Izuku to look down in horror, as if he had committed a sin.
With a curse, Izuku snapped his diary shut and locked it away in his desk drawer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw fluorescent green, and picked up the flyer with a heavy sigh. The mixer was starting soon.
Izuku checked himself out in his standing mirror. He was wearing low rise, baggy, medium wash jeans, white tennis shoes, and a forest green University of Sandwash t-shirt.
"I can do this," Izuku said aloud to himself, and he made his way to the common area of the floor.
☽ ☾
The floor was bustling with around thirty students, all chatting eagerly away, their loud voices overlapping one another. Shouto was greeting people on their way in, scribbling on his clipboard as he did so. He was also wearing a University of Sandwash t-shirt, with a simple gold pin that said "RA" on it.
When it was Izuku's turn to sign in, Shouto offered him a small smile.
"Are you feeling better, Izuku?" Shouto asked as he handed Izuku a piece of paper and pencil.
"Yeah, much better," Izuku lied. The paper was titled "Getting to Know You" and had a questionnaire on it that Izuku only glanced at.
"I'm ready to meet new people."
Shouto nodded and motioned encouragingly to the crowd for Izuku to mingle in.
Izuku found himself having light conversations with people, ping ponging from table to table. Everyone was nice enough, but he didn't feel any platonic sparks fly yet, which he told himself he was fine with since a lot of his friends lived right off campus anyway.
"Alright everyone, find a partner and take turns asking each other the ice breaker questions on it."
Heart beating like a hummingbird's, Izuku whipped his head around to look for someone, but his feet were glued to the floor, unable to move as he watched more extroverted people pair up with ease.
He felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder and he yelped in surprise, turning around to find—
"Bakugou?"
Katsuki appeared out of thin air, yet again, although, this time, his same clothes from earlier were dry, as was his hair, spiking in all directions in typical Katsuki fashion.
"You having a panic attack or something, nerd?"
Izuku glared at the audacious man before him.
"No," Izuku bristled, resenting that Katsuki was right on the mark. "I thought you couldn't be around me," he accused, lips pouting.
"So, we have to ask each other these stupid questions?" Katsuki redirected, unfurling the crumpled paper in his hand.
"Yes," Izuku exhaled, exhausted by Katsuki's avoidance and strange behavior.
"Hmm," Katsuki hummed, scarlet eyes on his paper. "What's your major, and where did you transfer from?"
"English," Izuku replied, setting the paper down on the table near them so he could fidget with his pencil. "Sandwash community college."
When Katsuki didn't respond, Izuku returned the question. "And you, Bakugou?"
"Chemical engineering."
"That makes sense for you."
When Katsuki didn't reveal where he transferred from, Izuku continued.
"Are you a morning or night person?"
"Night."
Izuku quirked an eyebrow at Katsuki. "Since when? You go to bed early and wake up at the crack of dawn."
Katsuki stared over Izuku's head. "Things change."
"Yeah," Izuku agreed with a twinge of sadness. "Well, if you remember, I am a night person, too."
"Who's your hero?" Izuku moved on before Katsuki could comment.
"These questions are so damn lame," Katsuki moaned with a dramatic eye roll.
"You didn't have to come, it's an optional event," Izuku muttered impatiently. "Anyway, my hero is All Might of course, the symbol of peace."
"Same," Katsuki agreed. "You're lucky too, otherwise I would've torn down all your nerdy posters in our room."
To his surprise Izuku laughed, feeling some nostalgia from their past of reading All Might Comics at the beach together. They would lay on big beach towels with their comics spread out, arguing over which editions were the best. Katsuki was somehow able to make sure not one grain of sand infiltrated the colorful pages.
"Why are you here…" Izuku's voice died off. The question read, "Why are you here at Sandwash University?" but Izuku's tongue stopped working halfway through, instead asking his old friend the real question on his mind.
Katsuki immediately stiffened, eyes looking everywhere but at Izuku.
"To finish my degree."
“But…why now? Where did you go? You…you haven't explained anything, Bakugou."
Silence.
"I don't owe you a damn thing," Katsuki growled, nose scrunched. His fingers gripped the edge of the table, face contorted with upset.
“Really? Because I think you do, I think you owe me a lot actually,” Izuku countered, his hand wrapped tightly around his pencil.
"Now it's time for the trust fall exercise. This is optional, so please feel free to continue with the questions if you prefer," Shouto's voice rang in the room.
"You first," Katsuki ordered, outstretching his arms toward Izuku.
Izuku looked at Katsuki as if he grew another head.
"You're joking, right?" Izuku scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.
"S'better than these dumbass questions," Katsuki shrugged, arms still waiting.
"This is a trust exercise," Izuku emphasized, "'trust' being the key word."
"Don't be a baby, Deku," Katsuki chastised, his patience wearing.
"I'm not doing this."
Izuku turned harshly on his heel and made an unfortunate collision with the back of a much bigger man, causing him to fall backwards.
Izuku screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the impact of the floor.
When no such impact came, Izuku peeked out of one eye tentatively, then the other, to find a large pair of red eyes looking down at him.
Katsuki had his massive arms under Izuku's armpits and held Izuku's back flush against his wide, muscular chest.
When did Katsuki get so...big?
"Gotcha, loser," Katsuki smirked.
Humiliation devoured Izuku like a wild animal.
Izuku awkwardly untangled himself from Katsuki's arms and readjusted his t-shirt that had ridden up his stomach. He shot Katsuki a dirty look and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a stream of blood that cascaded down his lips and onto his tongue. His hand instinctively shot to his nose and realized his collision earned him a nosebleed.
"Great," Izuku muttered as he wiped the blood off with the back of his hand.
