Chapter Text
Life continued on a little differently after that. The sun still rose every morning, and the moon came out at night. Sometimes it rained, and sometimes the clouds covered the light. The beach was still warm and the mountains were still cold. And Bakugo and Deku still walked to school together— even after the medication had long since left his system.
They walked into the classroom together, chatting like the old friends they were always meant to be like.
“It’s the house arrest boys! Late again, as always,” Iida joked lightly heartedly, no longer spiteful as he had been in the past.
“Sorry, we were out buying things again,” Deku laughed, holding up a large bag. “They’re apology snacks for everyone... specifically Todoroki.”
“Yeah, Icy-Hot. You better be grateful,” Bakugo huffed. “We had to cut our visit to the new exhibit in town ‘cause of you.”
“I see someone’s still grumpy,” Yaoyorozu bumped him with her shoulder, no longer afraid that he’d blow up at her.
Bakugo rolled his eyes, returning her gesture slightly. “How’d you guess?”
Uraraka gasped a little from where she sat at her desk near the back. “Ohhh, you guys went and saw the new All Might statue? I couldn’t see it this morning because so many people were gathered around it!”
“Hey, Uraraka!” Deku called over the heads of a few classmates, “I got you something!”
Uraraka rose to her feet expectantly. “Is it what I think!?”
“See for yourself!”
He tossed a lollipop over Sato’s head. It flipped end over end, landing perfectly in Uraraka’s expectant fingers. Her face lit up when she saw the color of the treat. “Thanks, Deku! It’s my favorite!”
“Like always,” he chuckled, pointing at her seriously. “Tell me if you want something different next time.”
She plopped herself down in her chair, unwrapping the sucker. “I will!”
“How do you still have money to burn, dude? I swear you two are always going off to buy stuff every morning,” Kirishima asked as he grabbed a donut from inside the bag. “I mean— I’m not complaining, but it’s crazy.”
Deku opened his mouth to respond, but Bakugo beat him to it.
“Izuku has a huge stash of money for merch,” Bakugo blurted with a mischievous smile. “He started it when we were 3 years old.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Deku rushed in a bit too quickly. “He’s exaggerating.”
“And *he’s* a d*** ner—” Bakugo started, but Deku lodged his elbow in his shoulder and pushed him over a bit. “H-hey! Don’t shove me while I’m talking, Izuku!”
“I’ve been saving since I was 8,” Deku amended as if that somehow made things more normal. “I saved up by doing a bunch of odd jobs and—“
Bakugo pushed him off balance before he could say anything else. Deku stumbled sideways, catching himself on the desk with lightning reflexes.
“How’s that feel?” Bakugo said smugly.
“Your speed was a little off,” he replied casually. “Try something like—“ Deku’s leg snapped into shoot style. “This!”
Bakugo caught him by the ankle right before it could smash against his head. “HAH! Gotta try harder than that to—“
“Midoriya...” Mr. Aizawa’s tired voice cut in. “Save that for quirk training...”
Both boys froze, Deku’s leg was stuck at a 90 degree angle, held in place by Bakugo’s hand. They blinked, then snapped to their usual positions as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.
“How does your leg even bend like that!?” Kaminari complained, manually bending his knee.
“Your leg doesn’t?” Todoroki wondered with genuine concern. “It’s relatively easy to hit that pose with enough training.”
“Yeah, *training*,” Kaminari emphasized irritably.
“Have you not been training?”
“OF COURSE I HAVE.”
Jiro scoffed behind her hand. “Pfft! You’re getting schooled, Kaminari...”
Everyone laughed as Kaminari dropped himself into his chair, rocking back moodily. A fizzle of electricity buzzed around him, a faint reflection of his discontentment.
The bell jangled overhead, causing the entire class to snap to attention. There was the slam of books and chairs scraping on tile as everyone scrambled to heir seats.
Deku flipped a pencil out of thin air, spinning it around in his fingers as he waited for everyone else to settle. He stared at the blond shock of hair— his arm was still mostly limp, but he was getting better at writing with his left hand.
As if summoned by thought, Bakugo spun around and smirked. “Hey Izuku,” he whispered.
Deku plugged his ears, screwing his face up into an unreadable expression. Ever since the incident in the rain, Bakugo had discovered a sudden fondness for saying “Izuku” whenever the opportunity presented itself. It had already been said four times today, and he was starting to get embarrassed.
“Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan—“ Deku whispered back, trying to hide the furious blush in his cheeks.
He kicked Bakugo in the heel of his shoe. The other boy kicked right back.
“Wanna come over later?” Bakugo finally interrupted as he passed a worksheet down the row to him. “Need your nerd brain for some of those dumb questions.”
“Yeah sure,” Deku said distractedly, taking the paper in his scarred up fingers.
As he was grabbing it, there was a tug at the opposite corner of the paper. Deku glanced up, noticing that Bakugo was still holding it, an indifferent, unconcerned look on his face as he called across the room to Kirishima.
He frowned, tugging harder.
Bakugo kept hanging on.
“Kacchan,” Deku scolded. “Let go of my worksheet...”
“Quiet!” Mr. Aizawa finally exclaimed, silencing them all in an instant.
Bakugo immediately released the paper, twisting around in his chair to face the front— earning himself an eye-roll and a quiet smile from Deku.
It was good to have him back to his old self... well, plus a few perks.
During free time later... Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, and Deku walked to the practice room together.
“So, what have you all been up to lately?” Uraraka asked, leaning out to look expectantly down the row of friends.
“Hmm, my brother’s wedding was yesterday,” Todoroki said, absently flicking an ice particle into the air before glancing up. “I had never been to a wedding before.”
“Woah, really?” the girl gasped, clapping her hands on both cheeks. “Congrats to your brother!”
Iida and Deku both instinctively threw an arm around him, jostling him slightly as they echoed her approval.
“That’s awesome! Good for your brother!” Deku grinned hugely.
“Send him my regards!”
Todoroki scowled at the ground slightly. “Why are you shaking me so hard?”
Iida and Deku exchanged awkward glances. “Uh, sorry,” they chorused.
“So what was it like? Did the bride wear something really nice?” Uraraka asked expectantly, practically skipping alongside them.
Todoroki looked thoughtful for a moment or two, then spoke up promptly. “I actually think she could have chosen something much more striking. Her hair would have looked much better down... but I think my brother at least has good taste in women.”
“Ooo! So you think she’s pretty?” Uraraka giggled.
“*You’re* pretty,” Deku blurted, then practically flinched away from the entire group like he’d been burned. “Pretty cool! I-I mean!”
Iida erupted into explosive laughter, scaring a few nearby first years out of their skin. The group bumped against each other slightly, snorting with amusement.
“I thought we were talking about my sister-in-law, Midoriya,” Todoroki said, a faint smile on his face.
“W-we are!” Deku exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest and shrinking into himself. “Tell us about her!”
Uraraka giggled, tilting her head to look at him. “Thanks, Deku. That was sweet.”
“It’s the truth,” Iida agreed in a gentlemanly manner.
Todoroki grunted in muted agreement.
She blushed slightly, kicking the air as she stepped. “Geez, guys. I dunno what to say...”
“I do,” Todoroki whispered in a reverent tone. He looked ahead like he had just dedicated the rest of the day to something. “After practice, I’m going to eat soba... and I’m gonna buy Midoriya some katsudon, too.”
Deku lit up like a lightbulb, practically glowing when his favorite food was mentioned. “Wait, really!?”
Todoroki nodded decisively, earning two betrayed looks from his other friends.
“Will you be buying everyone lunch?” Iida asked, adjusting his glasses ominously.
They all knew he had plenty of money to make that a reality.
Todoroki made a show of considering, then shrugged matter-of-factly. “No.”
“What do you mean no!?”
“Midoriya’s my favorite.”
The whole group leapt back, shouting collectively, “He doesn’t even try to hide it!”
Todoroki ignored them and simply pointed to the practice room on the right-hand side of the hall. “We almost almost there. Let’s go,” he said, turning sharply on his heel and cutting across his friends to reach the room.
A few moments later, Deku was rolling up his sleeves and flexing his fists.
“Will you be training without One For All again?” Iida asked as he walked out of the changing room, his calves slightly red with prep heat.
“Yeah. I might use it a bit though,” he said wistfully. “I can’t let myself get rusty, but I also can’t waste it.”
Todoroki stepped into the sandy ring, stretching his arms out. “You’re sill exceptionally strong— even without a quirk, Midoriya.”
Deku gripped his ankle in an attempt to relieve his thigh of some left-over pressure still there from sitting so long. He grimaced a bit, popping his neck as he felt something pull there, too.
“Thanks,” he said to Todoroki, eyes briefly lighting up when he remembered the katsudon.
He had amazing friends.
With that, he swayed to the side, a streak of black and gym clothes flashing past him in a rush of air. He twitched on his heels, barely even swiveling to look in the direction of the projectile.
Iida was snapping in frustration, straightening from his crouched position nearby. “How do you do that!?” he demanded, words escaping in a mix of fascination and annoyance. “It doesn’t matter how unpredictable I am... or how much power I put into my engines! I can never catch you off guard.”
“Hey, that was even faster of a dodge than last week,” Uraraka noticed from where she was sitting in the air.
“Have you been practicing with Bakugo after school?” Todoroki asked as he shot a blast of ice at Deku.
Deku rolled to his shoulder, then slid back to his feet in one fluid movement. He brushed his hands together to rub off the sand from the arena, powder falling from his skin as he did so. “Yeah, I have,” he said. “Even with an injured arm Kacchan’s still one of the fastest people I’ve ever fought.”
“Has he been practicing that new move of his?”
Iida grumbled loudly, “Even though the doctors told him not to...”
Deku chuckled softly, scratching the back of his head ruefully. “Yeah... But you know him. He won’t listen to anyone.”
“Pfft! Yeah, except you,” Uraraka said, spinning around in the air like a pinwheel.
“Wh-huh?” Deku demanded, his face turning red as a beet. “That’s just plain not true.”
All his friends were looking at him now.
“If I asked Bakugo to get a pencil for me he’d say no right away,” Iida provided.
Uraraka chimed in. “But if YOU ask him?”
“‘Sure’,” Todoroki finished seriously. “That’s what he’d say.”
They all laughed, even Deku.
“Maybe you’re right,” he agreed awkwardly. “Kacchan’s just paying me back for all the stuff I did for him when he was hurt.”
“Midoriya,” Iida chuckled affectionately, coming over to rest a companionable arm on his friend’s shoulder. “You really think he’s paying you back?”
“In front of the whole class? For the past three months?” Uraraka added softly.
Deku blinked, glancing up at Uraraka and then down at Todoroki. They were giving him weird looks that he couldn’t read... like they were trying to give him a hint he wasn’t picking up on.
“Has it really been three months?” he asked a little weakly.
“Do you have a calendar at home, Midoriya?” Todoroki asked, sounding deeply concerned.
Deku shook his head once, then twice to clear it. “Yeah, I have a cal— WOAH!”
In a flash of blinding pink light, the three boys flew off the ground and into the air. Deku was upside-down, staring awkwardly into Todoroki’s face which was promptly sideways and mere inches from his own. The other boy’s eyes were wide with intensity like no other.
“Midoriya.”
“Yeah?”
“I still think you should check your calendar.”
“I DID IT!” Uraraka screamed, her voice echoing around the room.
“GOOD JOB!” Iida shouted from the far side of the room.
“That was amazing, Uraraka!” Deku cheered from his comical position.
There was a short few moments of Uraraka’s squeals while the boys watched her from awkward positions and cheered for her. Eventually, the noise died down, leaving them hovering in space as Uraraka wrote on a notepad she’d kept in her pocket for an occasion precisely like this one.
“C-could you uh... place me back on the ground...?” Iida called weakly, his voice faint with distance. “...please?”
Deku echoed his request, but Todoroki remained fixated on encouraging him to buy a new calendar from a family friend of his.
“Oop! I’m so sorry, guys!!!” She urgently pressed her hands together, releasing them from her weightless hold in an instant.
Not even a second later, they crumpled to the ground in a loud set of thumps.
“Ohhh owww!” Deku groaned loudly, his face half buried in sand.
“Oh my gosh!” Uraraka shrieked, lowering herself back onto the turf and rushing to them in a frenzy. “I-I didn’t mean to do that!!! Are you all okay!?”
Todoroki had somehow managed to land on his feet— cat-like as always. “I wasn’t injured,” he said helpfully. “Are the rest of you alright?”
Iida rolled onto his back in a heap, his arms stretched out wide as if to embrace the afterlife. “I’m... fine... I think,” he called to them.
“Midoriya, will you still be able to eat katsudon even though you fell on your face?” Todoroki asked concernedly, showing more emotion than he had in the past several weeks.
Deku gave him a thumbs up, slowly lifting his face to squint at him. “Mhm. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look very fine, Deku!” Uraraka exclaimed worriedly.
He smiled at her, face still squished into the sand. “It’s okay... I’ve... had worse....”
Iida sprinted across the room, spawning at his side in an instant. “Midoriya! Don’t say things like that! Get up!”
Deku couldn’t stop the laughter that started to spill out of him as his friends began to clumsily lift him off the ground. They knew he was capable of getting up on his own, but they chose to assist him anyway.
Maybe the villains were right... heroes really didn’t make any sense. But they were together, and they wanted to help whenever possible.
*That’s* what mattered to him.
Later....
“What took you so long?” Bakugo asked as he and Deku began their journey to his house.
“Uraraka got us in the air again. She was struggling to put us down,” Deku explained ruefully.
“That why you got a red mark on your face?”
“Yeah, it’s from the first time she dropped us.”
Bakugo jabbed a finger toward his arm. “And the bruise?”
“From the third time,” Deku explained casually.
“What about the bandaid on your neck?”
“Oh, that one’s from Todoroki.”
Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled his eyes. “D*** Icy-Hot.”
“What? We were just training...” Deku chuckled, kicking a rock out of his path. “I’m bound to get hurt sometimes.”
“He shouldn’t be throwing d*** ice pikes at your throat...” Bakugo grumbled.
Deku raised his brows incredulously. “You put me in a chokehold last time we sparred...”
“That’s different.” Bakugo slumped further into his uniform blazer, looking for all the world like an upset child.
“You all threw me into a wall,” Deku continued.
“You were fine.”
“And you blew up one of my shoes.”
“Y’needed new ones anyway. They looked like trash.”
Deku stopped, his bag thumping against his back with the force of it. He fixated Bakugo with a disciplinary look that spoke more than words.
“Kacchan.”
Bakugo turned around, walking backward to look at him. “What?”
Deku drew breath, noticed the smirk on the other boy’s face, then dropped his hands to his side. “Never mind...”
“Tch.” Bakugo spun back around on his heel, marching onward. “At a loss for words, huh, Izuku?”
“It’s not that...” Deku dragged out the last part of his sentence as he followed suit.
They walked beside each other in companionable silence. The wind caught their hair and clothes, bright and cheerful in the late afternoon. Orange sunlight dripped off their skin, warm like the breeze. Conversations drifted to them pleasantly, well, save for the bickering couple that walked passed a few moments earlier.
It would’ve been a peaceful walk... that is, if Bakugo hadn’t kept eyeing Deku like he was the incorrect piece in a complex puzzle. It was becoming increasingly distracting.
At around the fifth time he’d done it, Deku finally noticed the odd behavior. Those crimson eyes kept sliding over to him, then away, then back again in rapid succession. Each time it happened, Bakugo’s scowl grew deeper and deeper until he sprang into action like a perturbed cat.
His hand flew forward, and in less than a second he was ripping the bandaid off Deku’s neck.
“OW!” Deku cried as the searing, prickling sensation hit him. He clutched at his wound to cover it from the open air. “What was that for?”
“I-it was bothering me,” Bakugo muttered awkwardly. He hesitated, folding the adhesive together absently. “Can I... see it or whatever?”
Deku paused, surprised. Had he really been thinking about the injury this whole time?
“Uh, sure...” He carefully moved his hand from the gash in his neck. “It’s not that bad. I didn’t dodge in time, so it’s on me.”
Bakugo scowled at it, his brows like heavy rain clouds before a storm. He grabbed the edge of Deku’s collar, pulling it back so he could see better. “Hmph, whatever. You let yourself get hit.”
The gash was relatively large. It looked crude and inflamed, glistening wetly in the light.
“Did not!” Deku flipped the fabric back up to cover his skin, face reddening slightly.
“No offense to daddy issues or anything, but he’s not near as crazy as Shigaraki,” Bakugo said, popping a random grape he’d saved from earlier into his mouth. “You held your own against that guy.”
Deku sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kacchan... I just wanted to help o—“
“He prob’ly noticed, too, y’know,” Bakugo said, licking the juice off his fingers as they passed underneath a large tree. “Shouldn’t let people win, Nerd.”
The insult-nickname was said with far too much care to have been considered one at all. He flashed Deku a quiet, look— one that said what neither could say out loud.
Deku smiled at him, rubbing his wound and wincing a little. “I’ll try to remember that...”
They bumped shoulders slightly, nearly jostling each other into the street.
A few moments later, laughter was rising up to the sky, clear and old like a memory from many years ago. Lost in a conversation about pro heroes, time seemed to practically fly by for the two boys.
“You ever hear the stuff I went through with Jeanist during my first internship?” Bakugo was saying, his face practically draining of all color as he mentioned it.
Deku was wiping away tears of laughter from their earlier conversation. “I heard a little!”
Bakugo shivered violently at the memory, tearing another laugh out of Deku as they mounted the stairs to his house. “He like, made me fix my hair and crap. It was *glued* nice all weekend. Mom thought it was the funniest thing ever, though...”
The door swung open right as he reached for the handle, nearly smacking both boys in the face.
They leapt back in unison, shouting in alarm as they tripped over each other. Bakugo linked arms with Deku, catching him just before he could crash flat into the stairs.
“MOM!” he shouted, face flushing with annoyance. “You almost killed us!”
“Like mother like son, what can I say?” Mitsuki announced loudly, grabbing both of them in a massive bear hug. “Right, Izuku?”
“Definitely,” Deku muffled from somewhere inside the embrace.
“Stop touching meee!” Bakugo complained loudly, his voice echoing around the porch.
Mitsuki released them, purposefully lingering around Bakugo until he blew up at her again. She had always loved to get reactions out of him...
“So,” Mitsuki said as she wrangled her angry son into a headlock. “Is Katsuki behaving himself?”
Deku smiled ruefully, ignoring Bakugo’s thrashing arms and loud shouts. “He hasn’t blown anyone up all week,” he reported proudly.
Mitsuki blinked with surprise, actually forgetting to hold her headlock in place for a moment. “Oh, that’s actually impressive!”
“MOOMMM!”
Bakugo earned himself a hearty smack on the head, followed by a celebratory slap on the back. “That’s my son for ya! He’s always improving!”
“That’s the truth!” Deku agreed wholeheartedly.
She paused, then smiled at him. Her eyes glimmered with fondness as she stretched her arms out toward him. “C’mere, give me another hug, Izuku. It feels like it’s been forever since you came over last!”
“He came over two days ago...” Bakugo grumbled as he watched Deku and his mother hug again.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mitsuki said dangerously, stepping away from the embrace. “You know, it wouldn’t have felt so long if *you* weren’t constantly moping around when he’s not h—”
“Alright!!! Shut up!!!” Bakugo interjected too quickly, covering up the sound of her voice with a crackle of mini explosions. His eyes were darkened with something akin to rage, but Mitsuki looked undeterred.
Deku was scratching the back of his head. “It’s fine if you miss me, Kacc—“
“Nope! Nope! Nope!” Bakugo shouted as he shoved past his mom and marched into the house like a grumpy military soldier. “Shuddup! Shuddup! Shuddup!”
Outside the house, Mistuki and Deku exchanged a secretive, amused glance.
Bakugo stalked to his room, positively brooding now. He was practically seething with the black smoke of rage.
“Ahh, I should probably go after him,” Deku apologized to Mitsuki, a bit nervous.
She waved as he jogged after the other boy. “Good idea! I don’t wanna have to replace another burned up piece of furniture!”
“You got it!” he called as he rushed around the corner and disappeared from her sight.
Mitsuki leaned against the back of the couch, a glowing smile on her face.
“Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it again,” she said when she heard the two voices traveling through the walls. “This feels like a dream.”
Her husband looked up from his paper.
“Really, hon. I’m grateful... but I still don’t get how. I thought things would go back to normal after the medication.”
Mitsuki tipped her head toward the boisterous, muffled conversation from down the hall. There was a crash followed by Deku’s laughing and Bakugo’s yelling.
She grinned. “Things did go back to normal.”
Masaru blinked. “What?”
She wandered over to where he was sitting, bending over to fix his tie as she spoke, “For the first time in years.”
“I don’t mind it. Izuku has always been a good friend for him,” Masaru admitted thoughtfully.
“You can say that again,” Mitsuki chuckled as she straightened out the wrinkles. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
Meanwhile....
Bakugo faceplanted into the floor, letting out a long, muffled groan. “I’ll murder this idiot paper!”
“It’s not that bad, Kacchan. This is important source material,” Deku said, firmly buried in the book he was reading.
Bakugo army crawled up to him, his bad arm dragging slightly as he did so. Once at his destination, he stared up at the distracted boy who was muttering things to himself agin.
“Izuku,” he tried, catching a faint sliver of Deku’s attention before it slipped away again.
“Hmm?” he responded absently, flipping a page and diving into the next one.
Bakugo glared, then slammed his forehead into Deku’s knee as hard as he could. There was a loud *thunk* followed by—
“OW!” Deku cried, dropping his book and instinctively doubling over. “K-KACCHAN! That hurt!”
Bakugo looked up from the floor.
“I need help.”
“You could’ve just said so!” Deku scrubbed at his knee like that would heal it somehow. “How does your head not hurt?!”
“I have a hard head. Know what else I have?” Bakugo bent awkwardly to retrieve his homework, failing to grab the corner multiple different times. “Hard questions.”
He slapped the sheet down between them, something between a pathetic plea and a command in his expression. Deku returned the look like a man with water in the desert and wasn’t ready to share.
“I’m not just gonna give you the answers, y’know...”
Bakugo crinkled the corner of his paper, pouty. “I know! I know! M’not lazy. Just need help, that’s all.”
Deku glanced at his book, then relented an after a few moments of silence. “Fine. I’ll look at it.”
He took the page out of Bakugo’s dejected hands and proceeded to examine it like a strict school-teacher. “Which question are you stuck on?”
“All of ‘em.”
Deku clicked his pen, gung-ho all the sudden. “Okay, let’s do it together then!”
“First, couch. My back hurts,” Bakugo complained, rolling over on the carpet and draping himself out like a dead man.
“Sure!” Deku said as he pulled a spike of blond hair, earning himself a content little grumble.
They climbed back onto their feet, gathering their scattered books and dragging them out into the living room.
“Already moving out, huh?” Mitsuki asked from the kitchen.
“Tch, the floor is uncomfortable,” Bakugo said, falling into the cushions of the couch.
“You just wanna sit next to each other,” his mom teased evilly.
“NUH UH!” Bakugo shouted, spinning around to glare fiercely at her. “MOM! Don’t say stuff like that! Sounds freakin’ weird!”
“What!?” Deku exclaimed, nearly dropping his study materials all over the floor.
Mitsuki peeled potatoes over the sink, unconcerned in every way. “Oh, whatever,” she sniggered. “You’re glued together all the time.”
“Seriously,” Bakugo huffed, crossing his arms and melting into the couch.
“We’re not glued together,” The boys chorused as Deku sat one cushion away.
It was like they were trying to prove an argument that balanced on unstable ground.
“Sure,” Mitsuki said doubtfully, a smile on her voice.
A few seconds of awkward bending and pointing at papers passed. Deku was explaining the work as best he could, but Bakugo was struggling to see.
Like magnets, the inevitable migration commenced. It began with a small shift of the knee from both sides, then a subconscious scoot... a gravitational lean, an arm touch... and suddenly their shoulders were brushing against each other.
Neither had noticed.
“A, B, or C... hmm, B is morally correct, but I know the answer is C,” Deku mumbled against his hand, pressing closer.
“I’d do A,” Bakugo exclaimed louder than necessary, throwing his hands in the air like the answer was clear as water. “Get the danger out of the way— then care worry ‘bout the citizens.”
Deku shook his head, curls brushing against the other boy’s chin.
“Get your hair out of my face, Nerd,” Bakugo grumbled nudging him with a half-hearted elbow.
Deku replied without even looking up. “Not till you move your leg.”
“Move your arm— then I’ll move my leg,” Bakugo argued back, dipping even closer.
Deku didn’t move his arm.
They were sandwiched together, every part of their sides making contact. To everyone else, it looked uncomfortable, but to the boys it wasn’t even noticeable enough to change. It appeared they were completely oblivious.
“Anyway, the question,” Deku continued, pointing at the page.
“It’s A.”
“No, according to my notes it’s C...”
Bakugo snapped his fingers open and shut like a mouth running its tongue. “Notes, blah, blah, blah! The real world’s not notes! You know that, Izuku.”
“This is school, not the battlefield,” Deku said as he circled C on his own paper.
“School’s supposed to prepare us for the battle field...” Bakugo said, quieter this time. “These dumb papers don’t teach you squat ‘bout what it’s like out there.”
Deku glanced up, hardly even registering how close their faces were. “Yeah...” he agreed softly. “I feel kinda bad for the hero-course students. I know they updated the curriculum, but it’s still not right. They’ll be just as unprepared as we were.”
“We weren’t unprepared,” Bakugo defended gruffly. “Only thing that caught me off guard was gettin’ kidnapped by d*** Handsy.”
“You mean, Shigaraki?” Deku snorted, bursting into laughter.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Just then, Mitsuki walked past, carrying an arm full of odds and ends with her. She paused, pointed at them in an accusatory manner. “Glued together.”
“No we’re not,” Deku mumbled distractedly.
“Shut up, Mom,” Bakugo said, still looking at the papers.
She tossed a fuzzy blanket at them.
It smashed directly into Bakugo’s face, but surprisingly, he didn’t seem upset about it. Instead, he chucked the blanket at Deku who promptly caught it and flicked it over both of them like second nature. He crossed his legs underneath it, neither of them even caring that his entire knee was resting on Bakugo’s lap now.
They continued their work, growing quieter and quieter with each passing moment. It was like a fog of sleepiness was slowly overtaking them.
“Hey, Kacchan?” Deku began, his voice lower than usual.
Mitsuki and her husband had walked out of the house to talk to the neighbors, leaving them in the quiet together.
Bakugo shifted a little. “Yeah?”
The soft tap, tap, tap, from the faucet filled the space. The room was growing brighter with hues of the lowering sun, illuminating them in a gentle fuzz of light. No indoor lights were on, but it was bright enough to be blinding. Bakugo tried to look at Deku, but all he could see were soft, green curls and the tip of his freckled nose.
“Thanks...” he finally said, sounding unsure of himself.
Deku squeezed the pages of his book tightly, leaving small creases in the parchment. Red, inky notes smudged slightly against his thumb— resembling blood when they touched the sunlight.
Bakugo froze up when he saw it. Something unpleasant twisted in his chest.
He acted before he could think, hand brushing against Deku’s underneath the blanket.
Their fingers tangled together instantly, hooking around each other’s knuckles like instinct. Neither of them commented on it or even looked down.
They immediately relaxed into each other like dolls placed carelessly on a shelf.
Bakugo held on a bit too tight, soaking in the reality of his presence. He held his breath, shutting his eyes as tightly as possible. He could feel Deku’s warm fingers clutching back, grounding him in the present.
“You’re welcome, Izuku.” The words came out more like a thank you.
They stayed there for a minute or two, Deku clicking his pen to the beat of an unknown rhythm. Bakugo found himself hoping he wouldn’t stop messing with his pen. It was like the sound of a clock— something familiar and constant. He’d heard that sound from across the room in elementary, middle, and even high school... he was still hearing it even now.
Deku finally looked at him, his big green eyes shining. “Ready to keep going?”
“Born ready,“ Bakugo agreed.
Deku didn’t let go of his hand. He just smiled and clicked his pen again.
The sound quietly echoed around the room.
Something ached in Bakugo’s chest.
As Deku’s began to read the section aloud, everything stung. It wasn’t a bad sort of hurt. It was the sting of the familiarity. The air was warm and the blanket was soft like how it was when they were kids. He felt sleepy, like this was where he was supposed to be.
“Wanna read this part?” Deku asked, pulling him out of the daze he’d fallen under.
“Uh— yeah,” he muttered hoarsely, clearing his throat as best he could. He shook his head, trying to clear the strange fog from his mind. “Where’s the dumb paragraph...”
He followed Deku’s finger, his eyes landing on it. “Oh, from there?”
“Yeah!”
Bakugo began to read through the long section, slightly aggravated by the sheer amount of words inside the book Deku held. He leaned over as he read, squinting and scrunching up his nose to see better. “...the evacuation procedures established during the war led to an increase in industrial...”
“Why do they write these things like robots?” He paused, muttering irritably before continuing.
“Mm.” Deku grunted in an unreadable response.
Bakugo plowed on for almost ten more minutes, his throat starting to get scratchy. He could feel Deku still beside him, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. “...resulting in 40% reduction of casualties in... blah blah... yeah, yeah, I get that—Japan’s rebuilding efforts... researchers conducting new studies... You listenin’?”
“Uh huh,” the other boy replied distantly.
Bakugo rolled his eyes, shifting slightly in the blankets as he turned a page. “Whatever you say... how long does this dumb reading even go for?” The book started to sag in Deku’s hand, and Bakugo instinctively took the other side of it with his weakened right one. “Japan’s pro heroes work with international hero agencies in order to protect citizens after large scale attacks... uh huh... how does maintaining good relations with the general public and news media ensure safer future? Well, no duh. Don’t play dumb with other countries and they they’ll return the favor or whatever. Common sense. See? This is the kind of crap I’m talking about...”
He waited for a response, but it never came. Bakugo dragged his eyes away from the book.
Deku had tipped sideways at some point, head resting firmly against Bakugo’s shoulder. His breathing was deep and even, pen still trapped loosely between his fingers. His hand remained firmly hooked around Bakugo’s pinky underneath the blanket, the only part of him that still seemed awake.
“Hmph,” Bakugo huffed, glancing to the book, then back again. “Knew you weren’t listening.”
Deku shifted uncomfortably when he said it.
Without even thinking, Bakugo leaned back into the cushions so Deku wouldn’t fall into the open book.
He looked exhausted, his battery suddenly running out as it often did during study sessions. “You waste all your energy at school, idiot,” he muttered, pulling the blanket up over Deku’s shoulder to cover the goosebumps that had begun to rise there. “You’re always cold when you sleep, too. At least cover up ‘fore you knock out.”
He turned his attention back to the book, gently disentangling it from Deku’s now unhelpful grasp. “Right. Where was I?” He searched the paper, screwing up his mouth in an uneven line. It was harder to find his place when he wasn’t being told exactly where to look. “Ah... right... the page I wanna murder. Listen up, Izuku. This stuff’s super important I guess. Not that you care, obviously.”
He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the gunk that had gathered there after so much reading. “The aftershock of the...“
“Kacchan...” Deku murmured sleepily. “Your voice... is so rumbly...”
Bakugo instantly stopped reading, a dangerous amount of laughter choking up inside his throat. He held his breath, dropping the book and biting his knuckle in order to keep it inside.
“What?” he managed to gasp without exploding due to amusement.
Deku scowled, his cheek squishing further up against Bakugo. “Vibrating... my skull...”
“Aannd, I’m done reading,” he spluttered to himself, barely keeping himself under control.
He snapped the book closed, probably softer than he ever had in his entire life. He tossed it carelessly to the side, settling back into the cushions like a prisoner who had accepted his fate. “Didn’t wanna read that crap anyway,” he blurted.
He dropped his arm on his lap, examining the scars like he’d never seen them before. He hardly even noticed when he started to lean farther to the left, or even that he was smiling ever so slightly.
“Hey...” Deku began, barely even audible over the sound of the faintly dripping tap. “...give that back...”
Bakugo snorted, rolling his eyes when he saw Deku shift like he was looking for something. He wished he had his phone on him... then he could show Kirishima how ridiculous this looked.
After a few seconds, Deku finally let out a dejected little noise. His entire body went limp once he’d given up, suddenly heavy against Bakugo’s side.
“Nerd!” He said the word like a swear. “You’re gonna knock me over!”
Deku tried to answer, but his head dipped as he fell completely unconscious. He slipped further onto his shoulder until he rested in a comfortable position there— practically immovable.
Bakugo grumbled a bit to himself, oblivious to the fact he was subconsciously curling into it. “You weigh a ton...” he whispered softly.
Deku’s calloused fingers twitched, pulling his pinky in what felt like an unspoken apology.
Bakugo huffed wordlessly, trying desperately to suppress the warmth in his chest. He fixed the blanket again, glancing up at the window bathed in orange light.
All was still.
Somewhere nearby, a pen rolled lazily off the couch cushion and onto the floor. It clattered faintly against the tile, nostalgic to his ear.
He smiled in spite of himself, unable to hold it back anymore.
Some things never changed... and maybe he didn’t want them to.