tired + bkdk author + cool as a cucumber

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mudhamster/ Ever felt too old to create a profile anywhere? No? Take a free portion of cringe from me if you like.

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 22. December - Equals

They found themselves on one of the quieter side streets, tucked just far enough from the festive crowds that neither of them would draw much attention; a necessary cooldown period for Katsuki, considering he had nearly set an entire Christmas tree market on fire at the end of their patrol shift.

He’d been on edge all day. Yesterday too, actually. Wound tight like a corkscrew, his shoulders drawn high, jaw clenched, sparks practically sizzling on his fingertips (therefore the preventive time-out). Izuku would’ve bet a generous portion of his All-Might mug special collection that he, personally, was responsible for at least half of Kacchan’s grouchy mood. If not more. To his sincere regret.

Izuku sighed. Two days until Christmas. Around them, the city glittered.

Fairy lights draped from balcony to balcony in looping chains of gold and red, blinking in soft patterns like the heartbeat of the season. Shop windows glowed with warm amber light, displaying cookies and wreaths and last-minute holiday sales. The air smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts and candied apples. Snow crunched under their boots as they walked, fresh and crisp and so so white.

This winter — this December — was… fun. Soft in a way Izuku still wasn’t used to. Warm in places that had been cold for far too long. Everything about it felt different from last year.

Last year they hadn’t… not really celebrated Christmas. Not that holiday. Not with all the softness and implications it carried.

The gifts had been exchanged a day late, both of them having spent the actual holiday with their families. And honestly? It had been downright awkward to spend such a romantic, sappy holiday with Kacchan while living under the strict façade of being cordial roommates.

One year ago, they just… hadn’t been comfortable enough around each other to face Christmas together.

But things had changed. Oh, had they changed.

They’d been a breath away from mistletoeing each other even though there wasn't any mistletoe to be found. And Katsuki was the one who initiated that shift.

Katsuki. Not him. Kacchan.

GreatExplosionMurderGodDynamight had cut Christmas ornaments with him.

Had gone to the theater with him.

Had stood between Izuku’s big, knobbly knees and taken four huge sips of apple spritzer from a glass Izuku held up to his mouth.

They had eaten breakfast in Kacchan’s bed. Kacchan’s bed.

And… and despite writing nineteen pages about it in his journal- speculating, analyzing, contemplating - Izuku still wasn’t over those six words:

“I got a thing for tears.”

That was, uh… intimate knowledge, wasn't it? The kind of “this turns me on” knowledge?

So Izuku had spent the entire week + the walk here thinking. Planning. Plotting. Preparing, ... kind of. He’d found 26 words, one for every possible outcome, intending to give something back. Something to reveal about himself, equal in weight and honesty to Kacchan’s unhinged tears-and-dressers confession.

He glanced to the side, breath curling in the cold as he studied the profile next to him - a pretty face scrunched up, deep thought, jaw tight, mouth pressed into a thin stubborn line. The colorful street lights overhead washed over Katsuki in shifting patches of red, blue, and gold, catching on his lashes, dusting the tip of his nose, softening him despite the thundercloud simmering under his skin.

His beanie sat low, giving him a faint veneer of anonymity. A shield, so to say. But iIt didn’t exactly help their case, because people still cleared his path without a word.

Even the way Kacchan carried their tree, as if the evergreen itself had personally offended him and he was now dragging it to its execution made his heart squeeze in adoration.

Oh boy, he was so precious.

Grumpy, menacing, gorgeous.

“Kacchan.”

“What.” Sharp, flat, unmistakably irritated.

“Do you remember the day you told me about the dresser?”

The blond came to such an abrupt stop that an inattentive passerby bumped straight into the prickly side of their freshly wrapped fir.

“Ow— seriously?” the man barked, brushing some needles off his sleeve, “Watch where you’re carrying your stuff. People are trying to walk here.”

Katsuki’s head snapped toward him.

“Get outta that damn tree.”

“Huh? I’m not-?”

Izuku stepped an evasive little step back to make space, cause ... Katsuki gave the netting one brutal yank. It ripped open with a sharp snap, sending a scatter of needles everywhere.

“Are you insane?” the man sputtered, batting at his coat. “What is your- huh?”

Katsuki had dropped the tree, just like that, right where they stood.

“Deku,” he said, voice flat and dangerously deep, “I ain’t got the patience for this shit today.”

The man’s eyes went wide in recognition, “D-Deku?”

Well.

There went anonymity.

No patience and even less situational foresight. As usual.

Izuku sighed heavyly into his scarf, “Alrighty then.”

Blackwhip slipped from his sleeve and wrapped around Katsuki’s waist as Izuku dipped into a low crouch.

“Oh my—” the civilian choked, a gloved hand darting out toward him.

But nope. Nope. Not today.

“Hero Deku—wait! Dynamight! Please WAIT!”

They did not wait.

But they could buy a new tree whenever they wanted. They could have it delivered gift-wrapped with a bow, if they wanted to.

Green lightning cracked up the streetlamps, rattling the Christmas decorations strung between them, as Izuku launched. In under four seconds he shot them across the intersection, down the length of the street, and into the shadow beneath the main road’s bridge.

Katsuki, entirely cought off guard, flailed behind him like an angry helium balloon.

“You fuck! Put me down. I can damn well—”

“I know you can.”

tbc: here

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 21. December - Risk

Katsuki pushed open the bathroom door, and warm, humid air curled around his bare feet. The world was still half-asleep - grey light filtering through the frosted window, the faint gurgle of pipes, the smell of soap and mint toothpaste. Izuku stood in front of the mirror, lips in a pout and his hands still in his curls, already fully dressed in a pine green, elegantly cut jumper from his mother's latest collection and dark trousers. Red eyes wandered. Slow and heavy-lidded, trailing over Izuku's silhouette. The buzzcut above the collar at his neck, the line of his shoulders, his hips, down to the fit of his trousers, the length of his trouser legs above the eyesores of his banana socks. But the coast was clear. No snaps of ugly socks on breakfast television (like last time), because Deku's trousers fucking fit. And he had often suspected it, often thought it, often imagined for it, and finally got his way on his last shopping trip: Black.

They bought a piece in black.

Cause black looked damn splendid on that nerd. And something about the dark, loose-fitting jeans that wrapped around his calves and thights ...left room for visions of strong muscles... the kind that’d slowly kill him on any staircase in the near future.

"Kacchan!" Izuku chirped, obvious as ever, thank God, as soon as the mist on the bathroom mirror revealed him standing in the doorway. "You're awake!" "More or less," he grunted. With a laugh, Izuku looked over his shoulder, lips in a small, grateful grin. Katsuki crossed his arms, trying to drown the growing warmth in something that sounded like authority.

"Ready?" It was the asscrack of dawn, and his body screamed for another hour in bed. Deku's eyes, however, were attentive and bright, and his body seemed to vibrate with suppressed excitement. "No, god - Kacchan - just no. I was never ever made for live television," he laughed shyly and rubbed his nose, "in my worst moments, I still spiral when I think of the interview training with Mt. Lady." Without taking his eyes off the nerd, Katsuki pulled a bathrobe off the hook behind the door and followed him into the kitchen. The floor was cold beneath his feet as he thrust his arms into the cozy, warm cotton. "How long do you think it’ll take?" Izuku asked, turning on the kettle. Katsuki crouched in front of the dishwasher, looking for Deku’s dented ‘lucky charm’ thermos cup. "Broadcast’s from six to eight. You could be home by nine," he muttered. A backpack landed on the kitchen table. Izuku squinted at the fridge, trying to read their rotas, while he fumbled with the zipper. "You'll be gone by then, though."

Katsuki grabbed the cup and pulled it out of the dishwasher to clean it. "Yup."

They met at the sink. "I—uh," Izuku started, eyes flicking from the sleek reusable cup in his hands to the old piece in Katsuki's hands, held together only by fond memories and long-banned chemical compounds, "where did you find that?" "In the Nightmare Void," Katsuki replied dryly over the sound of splashing water, "that crack beside your bed." Izuku snorted, the sound so loud and unhinged in the delicate moments of the morning that Katsuki startled, dropping the cup and promptly splashing himself with hot, lemon-scented foam. "What the hell, Deku—" He turned off the tap energetically, shaking off his arms, irritation barely covering the warmth creeping up his neck as he whirled to the side, "are you a damn boar—" He didn’t get to finish. Arms wrapped around his waist, sudden and solid, and Izuku’s cold nose brushed over bare skin in the deep V of his bathrobe. His heart leapt to the top of his skull and popped there. "Sugoi, Kacchan," his voice sounded muffled, face mushed somewhere between his pecs, "you're spoiling me. How am I ever going to live without you?"

Don’t. Katsuki looked down — and Izuku looked up. And there it was — adoration, trust, love — all the things Katsuki had no idea how to deal with at 4:47 in the damn morning. This guy… these eyes. These freckles. This mouth. This smile – he wanted to lean in. He wanted to. So so badly – shit. Katsuki bared his upper lip at his completely deranged thoughts before grumbling; "Any semi-literate roomie would know that..." your lucky charm is a thermos cup that had been lost somewhere in the flat for at least two weeks, and that it would only take two hours of searching and two minutes of internal war to face this gap next to your bed with the light from a mobile phone. (It wasn't really that bad. Apart from half a packet of nuts and three empty water bottles, he only found crumbs, dust bunnies and the aforementioned cup). Deku's grin turned sly, in that affectionate way that made Katsuki take a deep, silent breath every time. His skin began to buzz with irritation. "Back off or I'll do something you'll regret." "Like?" The nerd bit his lip, pink and raw, and Katsuki’s fingers (fortunately still halfway wet) curled hard into pine-green fabric as he finished his sentence, “…making me cry?”

"For fucks sake, I-zu-ku."

How dare he tempt him like that? It would be so damn easy to bury his teeth in those round, freckled cheeks right now and watch...-

"What's the letter?"

Oh. It was supposed to be R, like reliability. Rationality. Roommates - (and that's what they were, so he swallowed hard, shoving the thoughts about big, hot tears and damp cheeks deep into his subconscious) or respect. R.e.s.p.e.c.t.

"Back off," he managed, quieter.

R - like resolve, yeah. Or – resisting-

"What's the letter, Ka-tsu-ki."

His brow shot up and his teeth ground so hard, once, he thought he might have broken one. Never in who-knows-how-many years did his name leave that mouth. Deku's mouth. His lips, tongue and teeth. His fingers trembled, but that damn nerd was still so fucking close, so fucking daring – still fucking smirking.

"You've got a goddamn" he swallowed, "death wish."

"Tell. Me."

"It's R. Like –"

"Risk."

The whisper hung between them, bold and dangerous in the dawn light.

The kettle clicked off, steam ghosting past their faces. Neither of them moved until Katsuki cleared his throat and Izuku took a slow step to the side.

Seems like both of them weren’t yet ready to walk that one extra step, to cross the penultimate line, to really risk it all in a fracture of a second.

But obviously, they both wanted to be.

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 1. December - Blitzen

They stood shoulder to shoulder in their shared bathroom, toes warm and cozy in their worn-out slippers, the loud buzzing of Deku's electric toothbrush filling Katsuki's ears. 

"Oy," the blonde mumbled through the fluff of white foam around his lips, searching for Deku's gaze in the mirror. 

The buzzing stopped. 

“Whab?”

“Gimme a coo-, christmaffy worb wif b.”

Izuku frowned, half amused, half suspicious, and spat into the sink. 

“Come again?”

Katsuki spat his lump of peppermint foam onto Deku's, “Gimme a cool, christmasy word with b.”

Green eyebrows threatened to disappear under the fluffy edge of the hairband holding back his curls. Cream was still smeared between mirids of freckles on the bridge of his nose. 

“Ugh,” he gasped and rinsed his hands, “um-”

Katsuki went back to scrubbing his gums, watching as Izuku thoughtfully cleaned his toothbrush, throwing it in the glass in front of the mirror, and then leaning his hip against the porcelain of the old washbasin. 

Katsuki cocked his head and waited. 

“Blitzen?”

A blink, “Hargh?”

“Blitzen,” Izuku said emphatically and turned back to the mirror, “the reindeer.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“Why?”

Katsuki didn't answer.

With the patience of a saint, he rinsed his own flattened toothbrush and threw it, still dripping, into Deku's glass. 

“Ewww, Kacchan,” Izuku moaned, but Katsuki had already wrapped the still damp towel around his neck and raised his middle finger in farewell, “You shouldn't do that, you’ve got yer - hey! And your - hey!!”

“Nighty night, nerd” 

The door slammed shut and Izuku, pouting, rinsed away the collective remnants of their toothbrushing, mumbling, “What the heck…?”

[mudhamster]

CHWHWN: THE CALENDAR

01.12: a tissue 02.12: (trainings) fight 03.12: useless fact 04.12: finger massage 05.12: shine your shoes 06.12: movie night 07.12: handshake 08.12: last word 09.12: something spicy 10.12: joke 11.12: ? 12.12: ??? 13.12: quirk analysis 14.12: carry your shopping bags 15.12: a meal 16.12: consolation 17.12: something sweet 18.12: compliment 19.12: a wish 20.12: a hug 21.12: victory 22.12: ?? 23.12: hot chocolate + JOKER Advice An ear 24.12: {?} {may only be opened once all other 23 slips have been drawn and used}

Start the fic with this piece:

30. November Izuku stares at the small jar between his sweaty hands. It was filled with twenty-four small, rolled up pieces of paper. A cal

[mudhamster]

If you did not join the ride 2023, then here comes a bkdk snack per day for you

(And for all the impatient ones: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52077496)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 20. December - Ornaments

“You fold the paper like this over each other—the tip of his tongue danced at the corners of his mouth through his concentration—“here you can hold it, this is a bit complicated”

Deku held the paper, folded to the point of bursting, between two fingers and groped for the scissors, then he started to cut out a wobbly circle. Katsuki hastily raised his hand, “Let me cut that, you-”

“Hand strength, Kacchan,” he reminded him without looking up.

With a snort, the blonde backed away, pouting, and crossed his arms sulkily over his chest.

They had been sitting at their kitchen table for an hour, covered in colored paper, glue and thread, and the paper objects Deku was trying to make with him. He lifted one of the balls, clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and watched Deku's pathetic attempts to cut a straight line.

“Is it your ego?”

“What?”

“That's keeping you from letting me cut out this crap?”

Deku lowered the scissors and looked at him with a blank stare, then over at the scraps on the table.

“Ugh”

“Give me that,” he snatched up the paper and scissors, and tried to cut out one of the ornaments using the circle that had been drawn. But the paper was thick and the craft scissors were damn blunt, and less than half a minute later, his fingers that held the scissors were aching.

“Give it back to me,” Izuku pleaded, worried about Katsuki's fingers, ‘I can keep cutting, no problem.”

“No,’ Katsuki snapped, but still squeezed the paper back into waiting fingers, and then got up. No normal person could cut with these crappy scissors without amputating a finger eventually.

“What-”

“Wait here.”

A broad, warm hand pushed Izuku back into the chair as he tried to get up, then Katsuki had left the room and he took a deep breath. Paper ornaments, or something that resembled them in part, lay before him and he snipped a particularly ugly example into the middle of the table in a disgruntled manner.

“Try this one.”

Katsuki parted his fingers and placed the heavy handle of a metal scissors in the palm of his hand.

“Whoa, what's that?”

“An old pair of the hag's scissors.”

“Wow, I- ”

“Try it,” Katsuki urged, pulling his chair harshly off the table and sinking back down next to him while Izuku reverently raised the scissors to the paper and cut. 

“Oh my god look!” the cut was sharp and straight, and before Katsuki could point out to him HOW sharp it was, a twitch went through the nerd and a drop of thick blood dripped onto the tablecloth.

“Useless,” Katsuki cursed, pulled his chair towards him with a jerk, grabbed Izuku's bleeding index finger and resolutely enclosed it in his lips. Izuku froze, eyes wide open, the paper dropping unheeded on the table. He swallowed hard as he felt a hot tongue touch the cut on his finger. His breathing was unsteady, his heart was milliseconds away from blowing up.

Katsuki retreated, pulled a pack of tissues out of his pocket and plucked one out.

“Bathroom!” he commanded, wrapped the handkerchief around the wound and wiped the blood off the table with a second one, ”now, Deku. Before you bleed to death.”

“O-okay.” Despite the fact that Izuku would never bleed to death from a tiny wound like this, he gave Katsuki's mouth a quick glance, then stood up.

“Bandage it properly!”

“Okay.”

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 19. December - Presents

It had taken a whole day to clear the city from the grip of the snow chaos. Katsuki hadn't been called in yesterday, but they had found out from a phone call with Shouto that it was only because he'd agreed to work late. Selfless jerk. Izuku had insisted on working longer today to make up for yesterday, leaving Katsuki alone for the evening.

Potatoes and meat were roasting in the oven, the apartment had been vacuumed and he was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, casually watching the news. 

Christmas was in five days. Deku wasn't there. 

He got up from the couch, stomped over to his filing cabinet and opened the bottom drawer. It was almost completely filled with all sorts of junk, bought over the course of a year. He reached in, grabbed the whole mess and lifted it out to spread it out on the coffee table. Clothes unfolded, small items, mostly unnoticed souvenirs from their travels outside Japan, clattered to the left and right, and he sat down cross-legged in front of the table, intending to take a closer look at each individual item. 

The first larger object in his fingers was a thin book on the Hero Society in Europe. He had bought it at a conference earlier in the year, where they had both been guest speakers. He put it down beside the table.

The next book was a manga, signed and with a dedication, from their trip to Tokyo in the summer. A pretty beach hat in mint green, which made Izuku look so delicate and innocent that

Katsuki had to stop himself from clenching the soft fabric in his fists when he remembered it. 

Sighing, he looked at the pile in front of him. 

These were far too many gifts. He tugged at the sleeve of one of the shirts he had bought for the nerd this month.

Without thinking too much about it, he dialled Izuku's number and said 'P for Presents' before he leaned his back against the couch and began to describe a selection of 10 items for Izuku to choose from.

"1. Something soft, completely useless for the winter, decent colour";

"2. Something slim, interesting, that I would borrow from you" (this description Izuku found extremely funny),

"3. Something impersonal, personalised",

"4. Something soft, that I probably benefit from more than you" (the shirts),

"5. Something hard that will also make certain parts of your body harder" (new dumbbells, obviously, but Izuku snorted again, choked on his damn coffee and insisted on putting the call on speaker so that Todoroki could listen in. Hm, why the hell not?),

"6. Something electronic that improves your quality of life" (a smoothie maker),

"7. Something colourful, light, but awful for your posture' (a multipack of wool in the colours of Hero Deku, a special edition),

"8. Something that improves something that is already good" (a curling tonic that Mina had persuaded him to buy after almost 2 hours of nagging),

"9. Clutter" (the souvenirs he would collect in a box if Deku decided to take them) and last but not least

"10. a voucher" (at this point he spread a pile of vouchers on the edge of the table, as if he was showing off his deck of cards. He had at least 12, 11 after he noticed that one had expired. And they ranged from vouchers for the local laundry, the cinema, restaurants and even a sauna.)

Deku made a decision, Katsuki put the rest back into his filing cabinet and carefully packed the two items. 

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 18. December - Sugoi

"Well. That's inconvenient," Izuku smiled, holding the phone to his ear, "and Kacchan?"

Katsuki poked his head out of the bathroom, his toothbrush still in his mouth.

A blizzard had shut down the city the night before and clogged the streets. Now it was up to the agency to decide which skills were best suited for the day shifts, when there was less criminal activity and more icy roads. Both of them were supposed to patrol the eastern district today, but apparently the office had other plans when they called his private line at 6:00 in the morning. 

Izuku had put down his toothbrush to answer the unexpected call. None of his quirks were considered useful. He could think of 23 arguments against it - but as it sounded, he wouldn't be all alone in the apartment. So he just nodded, kept his arguments to himself and watched as Katsuki scratched his belly sleepily. "I'll tell him."

The blonde leaned his bare shoulders against the door frame, brushing his teeth with one hand and shoving the other into his trouser pocket.

"That was Aizawa. He called to tell me I had the day off," he explained, tucking the mobile into his basketball shorts, "again."

"Whadabou mwe?"

"On call." 

"Tch," with a nasal snort, Katsuki disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Izuku standing in the hallway, his eyes wandering across the living room to the windows. Even though the balcony was covered to a hand's breadth with blinding white fresh snow, the ice around the edges of the window panes created a strangely subdued light. A light that made you want to light a fire and wrap yourself in mountains of blankets. 

Perhaps there was an application for the television that could at least partially realise this idea. He heard footsteps in the bathroom, then Katsuki approached him in the hallway and punched him on the upper arm.

"Why do you get time off, you little fucker, and I don't?"

"Ouch," he gasped, rubbing his arm, "I guess it's because you might be called upon to clear ice or snow."

"Do I look like a damn snowmobile?"

Izuku had to laugh. Without paying attention, they had strolled through the apartment together and now they were standing side by side in front of the balcony door, looking out at the snow-covered neighborhood.

Katsuki nudged his shoulder with his own, "S would be the letter today."

"S ... as in snow," Izuku suggested, smiling softly at his words.

"Or S for shit," Katsuki mocked his soft, whispering tone and Izuku raised his hand to slap his arm as well, but Katsuki caught his fist and winked at him.

"How about S for sparring?"

"Like here?" Izuku laughed and pointed at the couch. "This is more like S for Safespace; this is not a place for combat."

"Smartass."

An hour later, Izuku was sitting in his favourite spot right in front of the couch on a large sofa cushion, his upper body wrapped in plush blankets and two knitting needles in his hands.

One of All-Might's classics was on the TV. 

Katsuki was in the kitchen, and Izuku could hear a muffled podcast and the clatter of pots and pans as he spent his day off busying himself with roasting, frying and canning. 

"Hey, nerd."

Katsuki stepped between him and the TV, squatting down and lifting a spoonful of creamy yellow sauce.

"Peanut teriyaki, try it."

"Oh," the spoon slid over his lower lip before Deku could drop the knitting needles and reach for it himself. 

The sauce had already cooled, spreading instantly over his tongue, the taste filling his whole mouth, "Hmmmm".

He closed his eyes and let out another soft moan. It was the perfect mixture of sweet and salty, the peanut, the spicy taste of teriyaki, "Sugoi, Kacchan".

Izuku slowly blinked his eyes open and beamed proudly at Kacchan. It must have been exceptionally warm in the kitchen because his cheeks were unnaturally red and he was certain that he could hear his breathing getting heavier. Izuku swallowed, sucked his lower lip into his mouth and looked at the beautiful face in front of him, not knowing what to say.

"I've tried some new sauces," Kacchan finally murmured in a hoarse voice, raising a hand and gently wiping the corner of his mouth and lower lip with a rough thumb, " wanna try the rest?"

This time, Izuku immediately stuck the knitting needles into the ball next to him and stumbled to his knees, "did you make unagi too?"

"Of course, you prefer that stuff to tap water."

Izuku held onto Katsuki's shoulder (unnecessarily, shush) and stood up. 

"Show me!"

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 17. December -  [ ]

"Kacchan, we need to talk."

Izuku had almost finished emptying the dishwasher when Katsuki, still half in uniform, entered the kitchen with a newspaper in his hand and a bag of fresh fruit from the weekly market.

His eyelashes and the fine hair at his temples were wet from the rain outside, and there was still black paint smeared around his eyes.

Katsuki gave him a questioning look over his shoulder, put the fruit down and flicked the straps of his suspenders open, "What about?"

Green eyes followed his every move as he yanked his uniform trousers down to his knees and then stepped out of the fabric, his legs now clad only in sports leggings.

"Your communication skills..."

Katsuki peeled his damp socks off his feet and finally sank into a chair with his knees wide open.

"Why?"

A small piece of paper found its way from Izuku's pockets onto the table, then he sat down opposite him.

Katsuki put his socks over his thighs and stared at a wild scrawl of countless letters and lines. 

"Is there a code for this?" The paper settled on the table in front of him and he reached for an apple without bothering to look, biting into it, "Or an abbreviation? What is this supposed to be?" he asked, chewing.

"My notes from December."

Katsuki looked up and immediately caught Izuku's gaze. He had his hands folded in front of his mouth and was watching him intently. He was wearing one of his Dynamight sweaters, the bright orange-red contrasting with the calm green of his eyes. He looked... sharp. 

He bit harder into the apple, not taking his eyes off him, and Deku began to shift nervously in his chair. 

"I wrote down every day which letter you chose. And I thought I was paying attention, but... I'm not sure if what you are spelling makes any sense anymore."

Chewing, he looked down at the mess and followed the connected letters.

He vaguely remembered swapping the order of the letters less than a week into his mission. 

"I thought it was something stupid like 'Blorbo'."

Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

"Well, a 'Blorbo', uh... Whatever," he rubbed his forehead and continued, "then came the A, so something with BA, and I thought of baggage or bacteria maybe-"

"Why the fuck-"

"Then came L, and the only thing in my head that made any sense at all was balance."

"Cute."

"But are you sure it's the right order? That you didn't mix up the days of the weekend?" Izuku lowered his hands, pulled the paper closer to him and conjured a pen out of nowhere, "If you mixed up D and L, then it's 'badly', you know? Although I still don't know what you're trying to tell me with 'Be my fine badly'... Or do you mean fine, like fine? Is that a way of telling me to...?"

"It's right, just the way it is."

Izuku, unable to accept it, climbed onto the chair with his knees, "but why? Baldy? Do you want me to shave my head? I thought you liked my hair? It was you who cut it short at the back of my neck."

Katsuki reached over the table with his free hand and plucked a short lock of hair from Deku's forehead.

"It's fine, just the way it is," he repeated and Izuku raised his eyebrows sceptically, "don't take 'baldy' literally. I could have taken 'badly', the result would have been the same."

"That means all the letters I have so far," he looked at his notes calculatingly, "can be arranged completely differently? So 'fine' is also just... a string of letters."

"Neat," he praised, and his leg started rapping under the table.

"And the spaces? Do they matter?"

"You've got another 6 letters, that's all you need to know. Now excuse me, please, I really need to take a shower."

[mudhamster]

I'm the one closing that door

The voice that wafted past his feet into the apartment sounded honeyed, almost victorious, "Who knows. We have all the time in the world. Maybe we can get Bakugou to move out, the place is cute and-" Fucking what. "Excuse you?" Ochako pulled her legs off the railing with a small scream and jumped out of the chair. She was wearing a shirt she probably thought was one of Deku's. And Katsuki was anything but okay with that. Her whole presence, from the half-naked shoulder to the cup in her tiny fingers, irritated his already cracked perception. "Get outta here," he instructed her with a nod, making room in the balcony door. She made a surprised face, then shook her head, "You can't kick me out." Tch. How he just damn loved people telling him what he couldn't do. "I can and I will," he said pointedly.

tbc on ao3

#My way of coping with the chapter 431 mayhem and a bad dream

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 16. December - Yakitori

"Yesterday, he texted me the word decisive," Izuku said as soon as he sat down next to Ochako at the edge of the skyscraper, leaning against the thin iron railing behind him. 

"Oh?"

"Why not decision?" 

"I don't know," he placed the lunch between their thighs and secured the napkin from flying away, "but to be honest, I don't really know what he's thinking anymore. He just texted me that the letter was Y, without a word."

Irritated, he had sent a photo of the food with a live location as a sign of goodwill. But Kacchan had a shift at the other end of town today, so he wouldn't notice if he gave Ochako some anyway. 

"Did you try to contribute words yourself?"

Izuku blushed shyly at the thought of his stunt in the kitchen, then mumbled "yes".

"And that didn't go so well?" Shouto bit into his pear and didn't take his eyes off him. 

"Well. It was... quite... unique."

"What did you say?" Ochako asked, lifting the first yakitori between them questioningly, but Izuku wasn't very hungry anymore. 

"I called him attractive. And ambitious and... um, amazing"

"Wooow."

"How did he react?"

Izuku rubbed his chin and tried to revive the suppressed memory, "...hardly. He asked what the hell I was doing." Ochako raised her eyebrows, "What were you doing?"

"I didn't actually do anything. Not on purpose anyway. I was sitting on the counter and Kacchan was standing in front of me and... when I wanted to hop off the counter, my belt got stuck in his apron pocket and, um... we had a bit of a close encounter".

His two friends exchanged meaningful looks. 

"How close?" Ochako breathed, holding her thumb and forefinger close together. 

"Closer." Izuku confessed, shifting uneasily on the edge of the roof at the thought. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Izuku looked anxiously towards the horizon.

"Y," Ochako murmured and stared at the small skewer of grilled meat between her fingers. The next rumble made her water bottle tremble and she dropped the food back into its packaging without even taking a bite.

"Y for yakitori."

"Eh-" at the end of the main street ahead of them, about 20 metres in the air, an explosion lit up the windows of the skyscrapers.

"You told him where you were," Shouto realised, cremated the rest of his pear and rose gracefully. Ochako also got to her knees, jumped over the railing and slapped Shouto's outstretched hand. Then she grabbed his collar, Shouto now hovering two centimetres above the gravel of the roof, and together they fled from the rapidly approaching silhouette. 

Izuku barely saw them jump off the roof on the other side of the building before something crashed into the railing to his left and right with the force of a rocket, eclipsing the sun. His heart leapt into his throat, the steel bending squeaking under the force, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut as the wind whipped hard into his face. His hand had preferred the protection of the yakitori at the last moment. Then the wind died down and he hesitantly opened one eye. 

Kacchan was crouched over him, each knee a hand's length from his shoulder, not half a metre away. When their eyes met, he casually jumped off the railing that had absorbed his momentum and landed on the stone ledge, one foot to the left and right of Izuku's knees. He stared wide-eyed at the broad red X until Katsuki leaned down to eye level, hands at the railing, and flashed him a boyish grin. 

"Why so silent?"

"I, uh," he started, his head spinning, "didn't think you'd come."

"Tch," was all Katsuki said, sinking back against the crooked railing and reaching for the food, "you should know me better than that."

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 15. December - Decisive

They spent their Sunday apart. Deku had a lunch date with Moonface, and he had condescended to tell his cronies that he would have the apartment to himself sometime in the early afternoon.

They were ecs-ta-tic. 

So shortly after noon, Katsuki found himself shoving the drying rack into Deku's warm and humid room to get it out of the way. With a groan, he hoisted himself over the bed, got tangled in the unfolded blanket and almost slipped into the narrow, bottomless gap between the bed and the wall. Disgusted, he peered into the shadowy room. Who knew what the nerd was collecting there. Jerk-off wipes and P-18 comics, probably. 

"Bah," he got up on his knees, tilted the window open and pushed himself off the bed. 

He was barely out of the room when he heard the doorbell.

"Kat's! Whoooo!" Mina cooed, throwing her arms up to hug him, but he sidestepped her in time and she stumbled enthusiastically into his hallway, "I never expected to see your grumpy, meany face again this year!!!"

He ignored her comment and caught each of the gloves she threw his way, "Where's Shittyhair?" 

"Still at the pizzeria with Denki."

Shoes hit the shoe cabinet and a scarf fell onto his shoulders. It smelled of cotton candy and hairspray, and he wrinkled his nose in annoyance and pulled it off his shoulders. 

"They told me to go ahead, so at least one of us is on time."

"Impressive." 

Mina hung her jacket on a hook and Katsuki stuffed her scarf and gloves into her fur hood, then followed her into the living room. 

"D'you need slippers or anything?"

"No," she purred, picking up a pillow from the couch and sinking into the cushions with a sigh, "just a little juicy update on your Izuku conquest plan." She beamed up at him and held the pillow to her chest.

Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks and stared down at her broad grin. 

tbc on ao3

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 14. December - Lazy Saturday

Saturday.

Weekend.

Chilling.

Brain-racking after another night of hard thinking.

Slowly, he could no longer convince himself that Deku hadn't become suspicious of his intentions. Yesterday's action? Pre-December, Izuku would have rather nibbled off his fingertips than let their hips grind together so hard that they could feel the warmth of each other's bodies. That was sinful. That had been on purpose. 

Katsuki turned to the side, buried his face in his pillow and growled against the growing arousal and the narrowing space in his pajama pants. His blanket had been pushed aside and was hanging halfway off the bed, so he pulled it up, rolled back onto his back and let his legs fall apart under it.  

He wanted to ... but he couldn't, could he? It was ... fuck ... but he wanted to, desperately. Just to get it out of his system.

Deku had left the apartment a few minutes ago to go who knows where, so he was all alone.

So why the fuck not?

He tucked an arm under his head, closed his eyes and tried to relax, his hands running over the soft skin of his stomach.

...

But it was less fun when he had to be creative himself. 

It was Deku he tried to fantasize about. Izuku, everybody's darling, innocent cutie-pie ... who made his blood boil. 

But everything sexual he thought of turned into buttercups and vanilla as soon as he wove his best friend's face and body into the fantasy. And still, ...he put a hand on the waistband of his shorts, trying to remember the heat he felt when the nerd came close enough to count his freckles. Most of the time it was the unpredictability, the sense of surprise that spiced up things. Or... old-school but efficient - his tears.

His sheets rustled as he straightened his legs, two fingers already in his pants - CLICK

The sound of a door lock clicking open stunned him, and his face twisted in mortification. Oh no. No no no no no no no. 

"Kacchan, are you awake?"

"Oh my fucking God," he jerked his hand back and pressed his thighs together, "why don't you fucking knock, asshole?" his face was on fire, shame tingling in his neck. 

A bag was lifted through the small gap, "I, uh, bought us croissants."

"Why?"

The door slid open. 

Deku was surrounded by Black Whip, juggling various breakfast utensils. He held the bag from the bakery in one hand and an empty tray in the other, "I was wondering if we could eat in bed... and, um," his eyes slid to the small TV in the corner of his room, "watch a movie?"

He had been seconds away from jerking off to his best friend's tears while Izuku, that motherfuckin' saint, had gotten breakfast for them both. 

"...my God," he repeated, ran his hands through his hair and sat up, crumpling the blanket in his lap. He was the worst.

"We don't have to."

Katsuki was about to impulsively jump out of bed, grab the coffee from Deku and then slam the door in his face. But he still had... well, still had a little bit of an erection. 

"Okay, I'll uh- I'll just leave."

"Get in the damn room," he finally said, before his guilty conscience drove him crazy, covering his lap, "and you better not spill anything on my bed." 

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 13. December - Amazing

"I am not the epitome of a superstitious person, but I must admit that on days like this I pay more attention to black cats and ladders and stuff. Consciously or unconsciously. Still, I wouldn't have had the Christmas party today if I'd been asked."

"No one did" 

It was afternoon, still no snow and still no Christmas spirit. Not really. Nevertheless, Katsuki stood in the kitchen with both hands deep in the dough, reluctantly preparing something for their stupid get-together with their all of their damn co-workers. The radio was playing crappy happy music.

Izuku was perched next to him on the counter, legs dangling, holding the baking tray on which Katsuki kept placing new swirls of dough.

"Unfortunately not, no. I don't think it fits into the pre-Christmas season. More like October,"

"Hmhm," the last swirl of dough landed on the baking paper and Izuku slid the tray from his lap to reach for one of the two glasses standing to the left of his thigh. The glass was lightly dusted with flour, decorated with a straw and filled with sparkling apple juice.

Katsuki stepped between Izuku's knees to reach for the tray with one hand when a foot on his hip prevented him from making another move. Looking down in annoyance, he spotted a hole in the fabric near the big toe and a faded pumpkin design. 

"Deku," he sighed, raising his hands, still covered in flour and dough, "we don't have time for this."

"There's always time for a refreshment."

Izuku raised one of the glasses between them, the straw pointing at Katsuki's lips, and smiled down at him. It made him ...hot as he tried to ignore the unusual closeness between their bodies, but god was it hard.   His hands began to tingle, no doubt because he was holding them up and the blood was flowing out and not due to the nitro glycerin mixing dangerously with the flour. He drew in a breath and stared into Deku's eyes as intensely as he could, until he heard Deku holding his breath with satisfaction. Then he stepped forward until his knees hit the cabinet, bit the straw, and emptied the glass in four long, obscene gulps.

Deku's incisors had dug into his lower lip so hard that it shone blood red when he let go.

"Tell me the letter, Kacchan."

"A, as in..."

"Attractive," Izuku began without taking his eyes off him, "Ambitious," he wrapped a hand around Katsuki's apron and pulled him forward another inch, pushing his heels against the cabinet doors and squeezing between Katsuki's thighs and the countertop, "Amazing."

There was no space. 

The button of his pants had dug into the counter through the thin fabric of the apron, but Izuku's body was heavy enough to push him away. His ugly belt got stuck in the pocket of the apron, the cord around his neck tugged at his hair, pulling him down until he practically hovered over the nerd and his brain started to fry. What the hell was wrong with him? With them? Was he goddamn dreaming? Was he high on something?

"What the fuck are you doing, Izuku?" he breathed, and the fists that held his apron tightened. He wanted to reach out.

"I-I don't really know," Izuku whispered, looking up and almost pushing Katsuki over the edge. 

They were so close. Closer than ever. He could have reached out and put his hands on his cheeks, with or without dough, fixing his head and licking the taste of apple juice from his lips. 

With the last shred of decency, Katsuki took a deep breath and stepped back.

Izuku just stood there, his cheeks flushed and freckled, looking at him as if he saw him for the first time. 

Without being able to know for sure, Katsuki sensed that their hearts were beating in unison at that moment.

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 12. December - Bastard

"Morning," he greeted Deku before the idiot flopped down on the chair opposite him, grabbed the still empty cup and poured himself a cup of steaming coffee.

"You look like you haven't slept at all," Izuku remarked quietly, pausing to study his face, "is it because of yesterday?"

Of course, it was because of yesterday. But yesterday was in the past, "no big deal. I'll beat up a few more losers and pow - high spirits".

"What district are we in today?" Deku asked.

"South of town, back by the big weir."

"Ah," he said, picking up an apple from the fruit basket and rolling it around, "fancy eating there after work?"

There were certainly some nice places, "Hm, why not."

Izuku tilted his head and looked at him cautiously.

"Would you mind your own bu-" Katsuki started, irritated by this blatant attention, but couldn't finish his sentence. 

"I've been thinking," Deku interrupted, biting into the apple making him wait for no reason, "and I have two questions for you."

He took another bite and Katsuki finished his cup, bobbing his leg under the table.

"Are you ashamed of yesterday?" That little asshole. Couldn't just let it go.

Katsuki cringed in annoyance, wrinkling his nose, "Not a word about yesterday."

"Pity."

Over the rest of his apple, he gave Katsuki a brisk look, "Then number two: would it help you in any way if I shared one of my likes with you?"

"Nope," he blurted out and Deku's mouth curled knowingly.

"Pi-ty," he repeated sweetly, and red eyes narrowed to slits.

"You think you're pretty clever, huh?"

"I am pretty and clever, Kacchan. And sometimes, you seem to forget that."

Katsuki laughed into his cup. Yeah, right. Absolutely ... not.

Izuku spoke again, got up from his chair and threw the apple into the trash, "Today's letter?"

"B, for Bastard."

"Charming," the nerd replied and slid to the door, his breakfast completely untouched.

"Pretty sassy for 8:00 in the morning," looking at the clock, Katsuki got up as well.

Without acknowledging his statement, Izuku made a suggestion: "I'm heading to the office in 20 minutes. If we meet for dinner anyway, I could give you a ride."

"You? Me? In your lousy little Twingo?"

An unimpressed shrug was his answer.

"No way, Deku," he decided, not knowing that he was acting exactly as Izuku had intended, "We'll take mine."

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 11. December - [ ]

"Hey Kacchan," Deku's knee fell against his and he dropped his book to look over at him. It was raining heavily outside, the apartment was in the dark of the cloudy afternoon sky and only the small lamp was on to give Katsuki enough light to read. On the other side of the room, the TV was flickering at a very low volume.

"How are we going to do Christmas this year?"

"As usual," was on the tip of his tongue. That would mean they would exchange gifts early on the morning of December 24th and then head over to their parents' house. From there, they would go their separate ways until the first days of the new year.

"Why d'you ask?"

"Shouto asked if I would visit him over the holidays."

His reaction was a mean impulse he would probably never get rid of, "oh yuck," he wrinkled his nose, "don't let me get in your way."

If Deku preferred to cuddle up with Scarface instead of hoping that he would invite him to the Bakugou household for the first time, then so be it. Deku studied him for a long time, then shrugged and turned the TV back on. Hm. 

Katsuki kicked the thought around in his head and finally grabbed his cell phone. He could text Todoroki to deal with his non-existent family drama without Deku, or he could ask his parents if it would be okay to invite him over for one of the days after Christmas. 

He decided to do both. 

Not a minute moment later, Deku's phone buzzed, then suddenly, green-flaming, angry eyes grilled him to medium-rare. Todoroki was indeed very fast. 

"What did you tell him?!!"

Another phone pinged, this time the one in his hand, and he saw a thumbs up emoji on his question in the family chat. 

"Told him you were with me."

tbc on ao3

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 10. December - Embrace

The nerd had flown through the shops like a little green bee in search of the perfect flower. Katsuki had trailed behind. He only owned clothes that were pristine, far beyond the optical standard, so he didn't have to bother looking for himself. Izuku, on the other hand, cherished and cared for his worn-out collection of clothes, the oldest piece being a worn-out, ass-brown sweater from their high school days. Disgusting.  Yesterday, Izuku had finally bought a cute, dark green turtleneck, while Katsuki had deposited the rest of the clothes that Deku had tried on at four different shops in order to pick them up today, one day later. Maybe as a Christmas present. Maybe as a nice gesture. Maybe just because.  Yesterday's ballet had been a very special combination of cringe-fest and amazement at the flexibility of the human body. Equally more and less than what he’d expected. And even though he hadn't really felt comfortable, he had stayed until the end for the nerd.  "D'you need another bag?" a soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.  "Nah," he shoved two more shirts into the bag on his wrist, which was already quite heavy, and the cashier smiled as she handed him the receipt. "Goodbye!"

With a nod, he left the store and stepped onto the puddle-covered street. It was drizzling. Not enough to use an umbrella, but enough to be annoying. Katsuki flipped up his collar against the wind and put on his cap, then started to walk home. He could have taken the train or the bus. But he needed time to think. 

Ten days into his plan to woo Deku out of his socks had made a few things clear to him. 

tbc on ao3

[mudhamster]

WBWNS: 9. December - Nutcracker

"They gave me the day off after lunch."

Katsuki looked up from his desk and met Izuku's almost offended look.

"My condolences?"

Izuku walked into the office, his eyebrows furrowed so deeply that they disappeared behind the curls on his forehead, and ignored him.

"The last time I had a day off was... a year ago? I had a fever then."

He dropped into his chair, lost in thought, and Katsuki reached into the small basket next to him, an Advent present from the hag, and flicked a peanut across the table. It landed in Izuku's curls, and he seemed to be so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice.

Dumb nerd with an even dumber hair routine, he thought amusedly and rummaged through his basket for more projectile material.

He tossed another nut, this time a hazelnut. Unfortunately, Deku raised his head at precisely that moment. It smacked him in the face and the idiot cried out, throwing his hands and feet up in the air. Katsuki snorted in deep amusement and blew the top three sheets of paper off of his desk in the process.

"Kacchan! Oh my God!" He threw the nut back and it whizzed past Katsuki's ear at the speed of sound and crashed into the wall behind him, where it got stuck.

They stared at each other with open mouths, until Izuku covered his mouth with his hands to hide his laughter.

"You're NOT supposed to scare me in confined spaces!"

Still stunned, Katsuki looked over his shoulder at the crushed nut in the concrete, "It was a lousy nut, Deku,"

"In my face! At my desk."

He rolled another over countless papers and Deku grabbed it angrily.

"Our desk," Katsuki teased.

"Why are you even doing this?"

As if he had been waiting for the question, he placed a miniature nutcracker between them and revelled in Izuku's surprised gasp.

"I had all kinds of ideas what to call you when you tried to crack those nuts with your bare flimsy fingers: 'nutcase deku', 'nutcrack noob', 'nonefficient-"

Crack

Katsuki stopped mid-sentence and looked at Deku's hand as it held the broken hazelnut shell.

"Kacchan, I've been training my hand strength for years," he imitated the movement, which, now that he saw it, reactivated the memory in Katsuki's head. Deku's hands in class, under the table, doing homework in the dormitory. Everywhere, really.

"Hand strength," he breathed and Izuku bit his lip.

"Yeah," He lifted the soft kernel out of its shell and rolled it back to Kacchan's side of the desk.

Still without a voice, but with a much too fast pulse, Kacchan picked it up, threw it into his mouth and lifted the tickets while chewing.

All to distract Deku.

To distract himself.

To understand why the thought of Deku cracking nuts with one hand also did something to his own.

Suddenly, Deku reached over the desk, ripped the paper out of his hands and held it high above his head: "The Nutcracker! But - that's today!"Katsuki nodded, his tongue still heavy as lead.

"Ballet!?"

Izuku bolted out of the chair and Katsuki, without knowing why, managed to get up as well and had just enough time to put his feet firmly on the carpet to catch the nerd in a jumping hug.

"I've never been to a ballet," Deku's warm breath was on his ear, his grip around his neck tight, "didn't you want to go to the theater?"

“Would you rather be in the theater?"

"No, no I wouldn't," Izuku let himself sink back onto his heels, burying his hands in his hair and another nut fell to the ground between them, "I need a new shirt. We have to go to the mall again - when are you done?"

"Same time as you," their eyes met and Katsuki took a deep breath, "as it happens."