Chapter Text
There is an antsy, unsettling feeling stirring inside the blond, his eyes roaming over the familiar buildings and scenery as he comes closer and closer to the city he used to call home.
He’s behind his mother's car, shiny and sleek compared to their once-beat-up, very much used Honda, on his red, over-loved and appreciated motorcycle, which he received on his eighteenth birthday.
Of course, all the perks of his mother's new job.
He now has grown-out hair, added inches of height, and sharper features.
The Bakugos’ and Kirishimas’ schedules finally aligned, and with this came the opportunity to finally reunite.
Three years later, but still happening, nonetheless.
It wasn’t like they didn’t talk throughout their time apart.
Trust him, they did.
They called and texted and regularly beat each other’s asses on every video game they had.
They kept up with each other on social media, though Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder if the red-eyed man had grown out of their friendship.
Eijirou had a whole new assortment of friends, whom he had seen via Instagram.
A girlfriend, even.
He recalled her having bubble-gum pink hair and darker skin, as well as some of his friends’ hair colors.
Vividly, images of yellow, black, brown, and even purple hair flashed in his head.
They all plastered cheesy grins, ones just like Eijirou's.
Or so he recalls—it was a weary memory.
He tried his best not to look at those kinds of photos posted by the red-haired man for long, in fear that the acknowledgement of his lack of presence had caused them to drift apart, and for him to seek the same relationships with others who weren’t him.
Others who could potentially fill his spot ten times as much to the point where kicking the blond to the curb altogether didn’t seem too shabby.
His train of thought is broken when an aggressive honk comes from behind him, lifting his head to see the light change from crimson red to vibrant green; his mother's car already significantly ahead of him.
He curses under his breath as he hurriedly lurches forward.
The journey back to Chigasaki, his real home, was long and left him aching.
They finally reached Kirishima’s residence, Katsuki stopping his bike and looking at it in awe.
It was left just as he had remembered, only the hydrangeas, usually beautifully blooming, were displayed with death.
He glanced over to his mother who was quickly grabbing her bags, completely disregarding Katsuki's, and rushing to the door, no doubt excited.
He unfreezes himself from hovering over his bike in favor of also retrieving his luggage and saunters to the already opened door and cheerful Kirishimas.
Eyes dart to a woman with brown eyes and black hair, and a woman with black hair and red eyes.
They break from their group embrace with his mother to all four of them.
Eijirou quickly comes to the door and viciously yanks Katsuki out of their hug, pulling him into a long, break-hug embrace.
It is tight and feels like it’s lasted for far too long before Katsuki rips them apart, almost stumbling in the process.
He finally realizes their mother's presence is now gone and faintly hears chatter from inside.
It’s just them.
His best friend's hair was red now; he was Katsuki's height, if not taller, and, like him, had sharper facial features.
Katsuki couldn’t help but think that his eyes never lost their naivety or mischievousness.
“Bakubrooo, I missed you man, long time no see bro!” He put an arm around the other’s neck and flashed a toothy smile.
Just like when they were kids.
Katsuki scoffs incredulously.
“We FaceTimed three days ago dumbass,” he sneers before shoving his arm aside and looking to the side.
“Man, still not big on affection? Thought getting older would make ya softer!”
Katsuki didn’t quite hear that, though, instead looking at a broken skateboard leaning against the wall by the front door.
“Oi, you picked up skateboarding?”
Eijirou looked to where Katsuki was staring, confused.
“What? Oh, that thing. It’s not mine—my cousin’s.”
Katsuki was about to question it but before he could the red-haired male sauntered into the house, right along with Katsuki's bag.
When the hell had he taken that?
They joined their mothers who were still chatting amongst themselves in the living room, seated on the couch and already laughing and smiling at one another.
Katsuki took the time to study the once remarkably familiar Kirishima family home.
It was practically the same, except recent photos were hung up on the wall.
One of Kirishima's senior photos, football photos, awards for his sport, and family photos.
He stared at them with a blank face.
He realized then that he missed more than he thought.
They were standing near the kitchen countertop, Kiri moving to open the fridge and immediately toss a water bottle the blond’s way, which he skillfully catches.
“Want me to go put your luggage up, bro?” Eijirou offers, nodding his head towards the black suitcase.
“nah, I got it,” the other red-eyed male insists before taking the suitcase and walking towards the hallway.
He didn’t need to be told how this place operated.
He knew it like the back of his hand.
Before he moved and religiously spent his days in the Kirishimas' house he called home, their guest bedroom was basically his.
And even though Katsuki was almost always just sleeping or hanging in Eijiro’s room, the guest bedroom had all of the blond’s belongings in there.
From clothes to toys his mother or his best friend's mothers bought him—to memories made along the way.
He had remembered how he lost his first tooth in that room.
He had been five and confused, Eijirou screaming for his mother to come look.
He remembered how when he tried to be a “big boy” at eight and nine, failing at an attempt to sleep in there alone without Eijirou.
He would always just go back to Ei’s room in the middle of the night.
He stopped at the familiar door, staring at it like he had time traveled.
Sighing, he opened the door, still staring at the floor.
He looked up to see an unfamiliar green-haired head with green eyes staring at him incredulously.
The boy was sitting on the bed, wired earbuds in his ears, phone being grasped with both hands, and his head tilted to the side in confusion.
He ripped one earbud out of his left ear and the blond watched as the big, doughy eyes staring at him looked him up and down.
The blond analyzed the unfamiliar green-haired male.
He was sporting a black T-shirt, a white long-sleeve under it, and long, baggy, dark-washed jean shorts.
He broke away from the mystery boy to observe the state of the bedroom that was once declared his.
Red shoes were neatly placed at the end of the bed on the floor.
A skateboard similar to the one he saw outside was leaned against the wall on the right side of the bed.
There was a notebook and a pencil on the desk to the right. It had a drawing Katsuki didn’t care to pay any attention to.
The once obnoxiously orange bed sheets were now dark red.
The large dresser in front of the window, which he now noticed was open with a book sitting on the ledge of it, was covered with All Might action figures, comics, and more books.
He turned his attention back to the other, whose face was now burning and eyes now filled with shyness.
“Who the he-” Katsuki was cut off by a large hand being placed on his shoulder, making the other stiffen and turn to see his best friend.
“Ah, I see you two have met!” he cheered, grinning.
The greenette’s eyebrows knit together as his emerald eyes glanced between Katsuki and Eijirou.
“This is the cousin I was talking about,” eijirous nervously laughs before rubbing at the back of his head.
Katsuki eyes the other again, causing him to scramble up and walk closer to the door where his cousin and the “stranger” were.
He watches as the other anxiously offers up a hand to shake.
“I-Izuku Midoriya, nice to meet you…?”
He trails off, not knowing the other’s name and expecting the blond to finish it.
He doesn’t.
He stares at the hand blankly before returning to analyze the other better.
Izuku was two to three inches shorter than the blond, who was nearly six feet.
He was unable to tell how his figure looked under all the baggy clothes, not that he cared.
Because he didn’t.
He noticed the freckles present all over his cheeks, wondering if they were anywhere else.
...the fuck?
He shook his head to break the weird thoughts before hesitantly taking the other’s hand.
His hand was cold and smaller compared to Katsuki's larger and warmer hand.
“—his name is Katsuki. Katsuki Bakugo. Though to me, he is my bakubro!” he hears his best friend enthusiastically speak from behind him teasingly.
Katsuki makes a show of rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Tch, cornball.”
Izuku smiles and his eyes go wide.
“Oh, you’re the best friend?”
Katsuki’s heart swells.
Had Kirishima talked about him?
Even though that idea alone should have sparked a surge of relief, of happiness, he couldn’t even focus on the thought if he tried.
The man in front of him was beautiful.
One of a fucking kind, even.
He needed to stop staring like he most definitely knew he was right then.
Breaking his gaze from the other was almost painful.
“the fuck?” he snaps his head towards the redhead.
“You been talking crap, bastard?” he quips, borderline teasing and half serious.
“Whoa, man,” the other defensively puts his arms up.
Even then, he is still grinning ear to fucking ear.
“No, no, no,-” the blond hears a soft voice panic.
He turns to meet the beautiful green eyes again.
He looks away, soothingly rubbing at the nape of his neck.
“he just mentioned to me how he missed you and how cool you were, I promise...”
He took note of how the other’s face was still tainted with pink.
It looked good, but he ignored that thought.
focus katsuki.
“Oi, where the fuck do I put my shit then shitty hair?”
Kirishima points a thumb back in the direction of his bedroom door.
“Sorry, Kats, forgot to let ya know that my cousin was staying with us. This is his room now, you gotta put your stuff in my room.”
He stares at the other, and he can tell his best friend is picking up on the confused and irritated state.
“c’mon bakubro, it’ll be like old times, yeah? Just two manly dudes sharing a manly bed in a manly way!” he affirms, with slight chuckles as he shoulder-bumps the other.
Katsuki’s eyes turn to look to the side to see a green-haired and green-eyed male still staring.
“Tch, whatever.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, not bothering to verbally dismiss himself from his best friend's cousin in favor of getting out of the awkward and unexpected situation.
However, his attempt to retreat from the scene fails when he locks shared red eyes with his mother, who is clearly marching right towards the commotion.
“What’s with all this bickeri-” she freezes and Katsuki could have sworn he heard her breath hitch.
“Izuku?”
Katsuki whips his head around to see her stare at a green head of curls, which quickly turns to meet her gaze.
His eyes widen as well.
the fuck?
He looks between the two, utterly confused and starting to wonder who the fuck this little shit really was.
“Aunt Mitsuki?” Izuku says, surprised.
She shoved Katsuki and Eijirou to the side as she eagerly hugged Izuku with firm care and all the love in the world.
Katsuki watched the sight with a face so bewildered that if someone didn’t know the visual in front of him, they would assume he just watched someone die.
“‘Been thinkin’ about you, kid. I’m sorry about your mom, I know you miss her. I miss her too...”
Izuku just smiles and shakes his head.
“Yeah, I do.”
Mitsuki lets him go and lets her hand linger on his shoulders.
“You are much taller than when I last saw you, ‘zuku. Though, not as tall as these two imbeciles over here.”
She juts her head towards Katsuki and Eijirou.
He can see the blush slowly creep back on the others’ cheeks.
This nerd blushes at everything, Katsuki mentally groans to himself.
“Do you remember, Katsuki?” she nervously chuckles, eyes darting between the two.
The hell? Why that face? And who the fuck is he?
Katsuki had no recollection of this fucking geek.
Let alone none for him to be calling his mother his aunt.
Eijirou did that, but to Katsuki, that shit made sense.
This guy or his mother had some explaining to do.
“Uh... not really?” Izuku says while rubbing the back of his head.
“When he first opened the door, I noticed he looked like you, but I can’t recall any memories of him.”
Mitsuki sighs in relief.
“Oh, good. " Probably best that you don’t.” She puts a hand on her chest and looks at him.
Now Katsuki was fuming.
“Hag, what the fuck are you talking about, and who the hell is this shrimp?” Katsuki furiously points to Izuku, who in turn makes a sour face at him.
Before the woman could quip an angry-fueled retort back, Eijirou makes a show of abruptly excusing themselves and dragging him away to his bedroom.
“What the fuck shitty hair,” he barks as he is thrown into the room and watches as the red-haired man closes the door behind him, letting out a big sigh.
“Look, man, Izuku’s mom just died and he doesn’t have any other family members.”
Katsuki pauses, staring at him blankly.
Eijirou pinches the bridge of his nose.
“We’re all he has, so he lives with us now. Just try your best to be nice to him, kay? he is like my little brother, in a sense.”
Katsuki gets into defensive mode at that.
“Why the fuck is everyone acting like I tried to kill the little bastard?”
He watches as his best friend winces.
“Well, Kats... when we were little you kinda did…”
Katsuki looks at him, confused and taken aback.
The grip he had on Ei’s sheets softened.
“When... when we were kids, his mom used to sometimes take him to the playground to play with us...”
Oh fuck.
Katsuki knew where this was going.
“..and well... you weren’t exactly the nicest to him, bro.”
Katsuki could see that.
He wasn’t really nice to anyone that wasn’t Eijirou at the time, and thinking back on it he was hardly nice to the boy whom he called his best friend, either.
But of course, the once black-haired boy admired him more than anything, so his actions were always dismissed.
“But my mom, she—”
“—his mom stopped bringing him to play after a little while...”
Both their faces made an “ouch” expression.
“Well, I ain’t the bratty little kid I used to be. I’ll just stay the fuck away if that’s what he wants. Not like I give a shit.”
He turns his back to Eijirou, prompting him to unpack and get settled.
“Whatever you say bro, but ay, get this,” he says with a stoked tone and Katsuki just knows he is smirking.
He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but instead, side-eyes him so that he knows he is acknowledging the other.
He excitedly continues.
“There is this, like, amazing little cafe that I always bring my friends to. Been dying to take you since I found out about it.”
Katsuki sighs, suddenly realizing he was a little hungry.
“fucking fine, but I’m driving, don’t trust you.” he turns and glares at the other sharply.
Eijirou groans and crosses his arms, similar to a toddler throwing a fit.
“Hey, I was fifteen and just barely got my permit then!”
“Still don’t care.”
Huffing, Eijirou digs a hand into his pants pocket, fishing for his keys and pulling them out to reluctantly hand them to the blond.
Katsuki snatches them and walks out of the room.
“Hey, man wait up-“
He doesn’t miss how Eijirou stops walking behind him to go to the guest room they just appeared in moments earlier.
He quickly comes back and scrambles to catch up to the blond.
“dang, man. I was gonna invite my cuz, but I think he left already.” he saw him frown at the possibility.
“Good. I’m not anyones God damn taxicab.”
“This is my car, bro.”
“fuck off.”
He unlocks the car and swiftly seats himself into the driver's seat.
“Whoa, bro,” he turns to see what the holdup is.
“That’s your bike?” Eijirou beams in awe at the red motorcycle.
“Sit down and let's go shit for brains,” Katsuki growls.
“Okay, okay man, jeez. coulda just said yeah,” he chuckles before fully getting seated.
Katsuki huffs and starts the car.
“What’s the directions?”
Eijirou has already busied himself texting.
“Yo, one sec,” he says, seeing the other rapidly type.
“Just gotta send the group chat somethin’ real quick.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes.
He takes the time to study the other’s car.
He had a black Jeep, because of course he did.
He noticed how on the passenger seat there was something pink on the headrest.
“ya fucking into pink or somethin’?”
Eijirou lifts his head in confusion.
“Huh? Oh, what, this?”
He points to where Katsuki was staring.
“That’s for my girl, bro. You wouldn’t get it. Passenger princess stuff, ya know?”
“You’re right. Wouldn’t fucking know.”
He sneers as he backs out of the driveway.
Eijirou smirks with a sly chuckle.
“Alright, here are the directions.”
His phone is suddenly connected to the Bluetooth speaker, reading out loud the directions to their destination.
“Yo, bro. I’m totally stoked. You can finally meet my buds. They’ll love you, seriously.”
“What the fuck are they, dumb jocks just like you? Or what?” he quips with no bite, all playfulness.
“Ouch,” he dramatically says, clutching his heart in fake heartbreak.
“Well, kinda actually..”
Katsuki chuckles and Eijirou does the same.
“Ay, man, don’t act like you’re not a jock yourself!” he playfully shoves his shoulder.
“fucking not! hell fucking no.”
He didn’t necessarily fit the “jock” stereotype.
Sure, he played a little football.
He may have been really fucking good at it.
But he wasn’t a fucking idiot.
He had the grades of a straight-A student.
He was way more intelligent and intellectual compared to an air-headed, pea-brained “jock.”
“I rack up A’s in every class, thank you very fuckin’ much.”
Eijirou makes a twisted face.
“That’s not even fair bro. Pre-calc is fucking hard man.”
Katsuki grins, knowing he’d already taken calculus junior year, pre-calc sophomore year.
“wait til you meet Denki, then you’ll think I’m really not that dumb!”
“We’ll see about that,” the blond smirks.
They’re about two minutes away from the diner.
There’s an abrupt noise filling the car.
“Text message from, baby”
Kirishima tries to disconnect the Bluetooth, but Katsuki protests, snatching the phone.
“No, no no, let’s hear this shitty hair!”
“bro, wait-“
The robotic voice begins to read the message.
“Hey babe, I’m going to the mall with Momo and Jirou in a few, can’t make it to the diner today. Let’s do a rain check and I can meet Bakugo another time? I love and miss you.”
Eijirou sighs, glad the response was PG.
“awe, dang. Was hoping u could meet the whole gang today. That’s cool though, we got the whole two weeks.”
Katsuki groans.
“There’s more?”
Ei grins.
“Duh, bro. Of course there’s more?”
“You have arrived at your destination.”
Katsuki parks the car and looks over to his red-headed best friend.
“If you’re making me do this, there better be damn good food, fucker.”
He watches Red Eyes go wide.
“Trust me bro, their food hits different.”
They saunter into the diner, Eijirou running over and holding the door open for Katsuki, gesturing for him to go first.
“Ladies first,” he bows, tilting his head up slightly and smirking.
Katsuki grabs him by the head and throws him inside, following behind.
“We got a designated table, follow me.”
Katsuki follows, looking around and taking in the scenery.
It’s old. retro? maybe.
He takes note of the cracks in some of the booth seats, awards hung up in their restaurant, famous people who’ve stopped by, records hung up.
It was cozy, he had to admit.
They walked up to an employee with half red, half white hair.
“Hello,” he paused and turned to Katsuki.
“Yo bro, this is Bakubro!” he put an arm around the blond.
He just side-eyed him.
Shoto nodded.
“Did you want the usual table?”
“ya know it!”
He watched as Shoto swiftly grabbed exactly five menus, looked at Katsuki, and grabbed one extra.
He just turned to walk away and they began to follow.
They’re led to a table towards the back of the diner with eight chairs and two people already seated.
They lift their heads and grin wide at the sight of Katsuki.
He watches as they dap each other up, and then motions to dap Katsuki up too.
He daps them up, reluctantly.
“What’s up bro, i’m sero hanta, this is Denki Kaminari,” the male with raven hair grins as her points a thumb towards a yellow-haired male with a black stripe in his hair.
He vividly remembers them from some of Eijirou’s many posts and stories on Instagram.
“Bakugo,” is all the blond says before taking a seat.
“Don’t mind him dudes, he’s like, antisocial or whatever,” he teases while nudging the other with his elbow.
He just rolls his eyes before looking at the menu.
“We’re just waiting for two more people,” Kaminari informs.
“Wait, who?” Eijirou questions, furrowed eyebrows looking around.
“shinso and iz-”
Before the black-haired male could finish they heard the bell of the door open, and in walked a brown-haired girl, about 5’2, if not shorter, with brown irises and eyes that looked big and doughy.
She held the door open for a familiar green head of curls, who smiled up at her with that same skateboard he had seen in his old bedroom clutched to his side.
Just fucking peachy.
“Yooo, Ochako! Izu! Come, sit,” he hears Denki cheer.
He watches as the brown-haired girl who he assumed was Ochako dap up the entirety of the table, Izuku just offering up a smile and a wave before taking a seat.
She only briefly glanced at Katsuki before sitting.
Ochako stopped and looked at Katsuki, offering up a hand to shake, Katsuki took it hesitantly.
“Hello. I’m Ochako, nice to meet you.”
He watched as chestnut eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as she took in the sight of him.
“Bakugo.” Again, all he says.
Ochako sits next to Izuku, who’s seated next to Kaminari, and there’s an empty seat between him and Sero, Kirishima to his left.
“Yo, we all usually know our go-tos. But we’ll give you some time to decide, if you need.”
Katsuki shrugs.
“nah, I already know.”
Shoto comes with a notepad in hand and is already writing down some stuff.
“Kirishima, you want medium-well steak and a side of potatoes; Denki, you want a hamburger well done with a side of French fries, sero you want teriyaki chicken with a side of white rice; Ochako, you want a Spam musubi, and Izuku, you want chicken katsudon.”
Katsuki is mildly impressed at the remembrance of everyone's preferred order.
He looks up from his writing pad to Katsuki.
“And you want..?”
“Mapo tofu. As spicy as you can make it,” he smirks, handing the half-and-half-haired male the menu back.
He squints as he repeats what he’s written.
“Mapo tofu, extra spicy. Got it. “ I’ll be back with your water.” he turns to head back to the kitchen.
“Extra spicy, eh? “ You tryna die bro?” he hears Denki tease, and he averts his gaze to glare.
“If it’s not burning my mouth, it’s not worth eating,” is all he says.
Eijirou chuckles at the ridiculous notion.
“Denki bro, you ordered a burger at a Japanese diner,” he teases, causing the whole group to snicker.
“Chill, bro. Americans may be onto something..”
Katsuki thinks this group is tolerable.
They’re not super rowdy and obnoxious like he presumed they’d be, not like Eijirou anyway.
But one thing he couldn’t get over, was Izuku.
How pretty he was. How nice his smile was and how pretty his laugh sounded.
But what made the blond even more irritable, was the obvious and irritating way Ochako stared at the green-haired boy, talked to him, and her body language towards him.
It was obvious she fucking wanted him.
It didn’t take a fucking genius to tell.
Well, he was almost certain the green-haired male was unaware.
His train of thought was broken when the half-red, half-white-haired worker came back and set all six waters down.
“Your food will be out shortly,” is all he says with that deadpan expression he’s had for the majority of his time in the diner before turning and walking away.
He couldn’t help but notice the extra stare he gave Sero, though, who seemingly was already staring daggers into him.
“So, Ei,” he hears the voice of the yellow-haired male speak up.
“Where are you planning on taking Bakugo while he’s here?”
Eijirou perks up at that.
“dude, I don’t even fucking know. So many things to choose from. There’s the mall, but there’s also that really cool creek we found a couple of months back, and Monoma is having a party on Saturday, and-“
Katsuki groans.
“holy shit. I’m already fucking tired from just the damn thought.”
The table fills with chuckles, though Izuku just smiles.
When their food arrives, Eijirou makes a show of telling everyone not to touch their food yet in favor of taking a picture first.
majority roll their eyes, except Izuku.
“dude,” Sero starts.
“We eat this like every other day. Instagram doesn’t want to see this shit on your story for the millionth time,” he deadpans.
Eijirou waves his hand dismissively.
“Okay, one, Katsuki is a new member of our traditional photo. And two, Izuku has only been here like five times out of the hundreds. Instagram will live.”
“screw your picture, I’m hungry man!” Denki declares before shoving French fries into his mouth.
Sero and Ochako laugh, and Eijirou just sighs before settling for a photo of Denki stuffing his face mid-pic.
They all begin to eat, conversation becoming relaxed, though Katsuki wasn’t talking, just eating.
Eijirou was right, the food was definitely worth it.
He occasionally looked around to watch the others interact, noticing Izuku’s lack of interaction.
The shorter boy occasionally replied to someone who either asked him something or spoke directly to him, but other than that he didn’t speak unless spoken to.
It was mostly just Ochako speaking to him, though.
If it bothered Katsuki, he wouldn’t know—he tried his best to ignore it.
Ignorance was bliss, after all.
He tried his best to focus on his satiating and pleasant meal, drowning out all noise and further possibilities of starting up his skyrocketing blood pressure once again.
There’s a sudden bzzz felt against his hip, signaling to him he’s received a text message.
Letting out a long, tired sigh, he fishes for his phone and retrieves it from his right pocket.
He huffs at who it’s from.
Dumb and Dumber
Monoma - How’s our beloved angry blond doing?
Katsuki makes a show of rolling his eyes to himself before typing out a quick response.
Katsuki - Fucking fine, dumbass.
There’s a typing indicator that appears for maybe 10 seconds before there’s a reply with the obvious Katsuki-like irritation.
Hitoshi - Before you say anything, I told him he should’ve just left you alone.
Katsuki snorts.
It hadn’t even been four hours since he’d left his city to reunite with his hometown, and the idiots already had suspicions that he’d burned the entire city to a crisp.
Monoma had been the son of the nice lady, Ayame Neito, who Katsuki’s mother worked for.
Naturally, they got along.
While Katsuki had never met another blond male as loud and hot-headed as himself, Monoma was an eye-opener, and the only other feisty blond he thought he could withstand.
Hitoshi just so happened to be Monoma’s neighbor, and best friend.
They all went to the same school together, and the trio just formed on its own.
From Katsuki’s understanding, Hitoshi and his little sister, Eri, had only just been adopted two years before his own arrival, and their English teacher, Mr. Hizashi, and history teacher, Mr. Shota, had been his fathers.
He didn’t even fucking know they were married.
He’s about to type out another snarky text, but he hears a teasing voice from his side cut into his thoughts.
“Whose got my bakubro all smiley?” Eijirou teases, his toothy grin turning to a smirk and his eyes filled with mischievous intent.
Huffing, Katsuki clicks the phone off before entirely disregarding the messages, the phone quickly out of sight.
Right. You’re here for him.
Nobody else.
He can’t help but look around to make sure others aren’t taking note of this interaction.
He catches eyes with a particularly big and expressive pair of emerald orbs, which quickly avert to lock onto his plate of barely touched food.
How long had he been staring?
Katsuki shakes his head to forget the one hundred and one questions that always come with staring into Izuku’s eyes—taking in that indescribable but all the more beautiful gaze he always seems to give people.
Or maybe just him, he’s not sure yet.
He turns back to his best friend, again radiating all his attention back onto him.
“fucking nobody,” he grumbles before shoving more food into his mouth.
His red-eyed and red-haired friend gave him an unimpressed and slightly surprised look.
The other throws his hands up, wavering.
“Whatever you say bro,” and the once accusatory tone is gone.
Katsuki takes this time to really analyze the other man’s hair.
“Oi,” Katsuki says.
He points a thumb to his hair.
“What’s with this shitty red hair,” he quips.
Eijirou frowns at the insult, eyebrows knitted, and it’s clear that he’s disappointed at his best friend’s lack of fondness.
“It’s not manly? Mido-bro did it for me!” he exclaims as he gives that big dumb grin and jabs a thumb towards the red-haired man’s cousin.
Katsuki could already see the smaller staring at him from the corner of his eye.
There’s something about the way he’s unable to get his skin to stop feeling tingly and numb around the other.
They just fucking met, he reminds himself.
He turns to stare back at Izuku.
His cheeks are puffed and his gaze is now back on his food.
“I thought I did a pretty good job..” he mumbles, shoving food into his mouth with a pout.
cute.
“It makes him look like a damn stop sign,” Katsuki growls over a mouthful of his own food.
He sees the others at the table snicker knowingly.
Then he sees Eijirou with sparkly, hopeful eyes and an expression that reads awe.
“Really, that’s so manly!” he fake-wipes pretend tears and they all begin to chuckle.
Katsuki scowls and in turn, playfully shoves him.
“You fuckin’ wish,” he barks.
There’s about ten more minutes of just finishing up their food and laughing during their comfortable conversation.
He thinks he likes what he unsurely remembers is Hanta the most, and the dunce face who looks like he just got electrocuted and lacks brain cells the least.
He puts his amount to pay down with a generous tip and gets a couple of bewildered stares in the process.
He wasn’t a fucking idiot.
He knew the extras were gawking at the unreasonable amount of money in his thick and pristine wallet, and no doubt the more than necessary tip.
Katsuki three years ago would have done the same, no doubt.
But things were different now.
He’d been given an allowance and was of course overly grateful.
He’d helped his mother with work plenty of times over the course of their three years away, and while it definitely wasn’t enough times to receive as much as he does, he still tried his best to work for it and to not take anything without putting in the work.
“Whoa, bro,” Kaminari’s awe-struck voice sounds like he’s just discovered a hidden treasure chest.
“What the hell are you, a nepo baby?”
He sees Hanta elbow him in the side for the inconsiderate and ignorant comment.
“Ouch!” he quickly moves away from the other’s extended arm, his face clearly showing irritation.
Eijirou is already speaking for him, of course.
“nah bro, he’s just loaded ’cause his mom’s got a boss who’s addicted to clothes,” he carelessly under-explains as he’s snatching the tip off the table and shoving it back at Katsuki.
Katsuki growls, a protest about to come out.
“You fucking—”
“—he doesn’t need it, Katsuki, trust me.” his voice is firm and genuine, but Katsuki still doesn’t understand.
“And why the fuck not?” he questions with a childish and reverent tone.
The red-haired man sighs before dropping his shoulders and huffing.
“he’s actually loaded. Like,” he thinks before deciding how to explain it.
He gestures to Katsuki.
“Like, more loaded than you, bro.”
Now Katsuki was really confused.
He knew not to judge a book by its cover and all that metaphorical shit, but looking at the place around them he couldn’t help but wonder what the other was doing working in a place like this if that was really the case.
Eijirou makes a knowing look at him.
“he works here because he’s rebelling against his dad. He’s trying to make a point or something,” he finally explains.
ahh.
Katsuki could understand that, though, why?
He just makes a dismissive grunt before taking half the tip he put down and keeping the other half on the table.
“Let’s fucking go. I’m tired.”
And that’s all he says before getting up and walking toward the exit.
“Wait—” Eijirou startles before hastily setting down his own bill and scrambling to catch up to the blond.
“cya,” he hears a voice from behind him call, half turning to see a smiling Hanta, Kaminari, and Uraraka wave them goodbye.
All except Kirishima's shitty cousin.
the fuck?
The nerd had been picking at a scab on his arm, one amongst the several cuts and scratches littered among his forearms, and making a point to not look in their direction.
bastard.
whatever. Katsuki couldn’t give two shits.
He gave a dismissive and half-hearted wave before stomping out of the diner, beating Eijirou to it this time because he didn’t need the door to be opened for him, thank you very fucking much.
He tried his best not to picture curly unruly green hair and bright viridian green eyes staring at him.
He tried not to think of the way his chubby, but still somehow framed cheeks were littered with freckles and always flushing at the littlest fucking shit.
No. You are here for Eijirou. This is about your best god damn friend.
He hears the sound of the bell from the door opening not too far behind him.
There are more sounds as scrambling feet make contact with the cement.
“Bakubro, wait up man!” he hears that gruff and loud voice call out to him.
He stops begrudgingly.
The sound of keys being fished out of a pocket makes him turn to face the other.
A hand is stretched out and Katsuki is snatching the keys before trudging to the driver-side door.
“Whoa, man,” Eijirou chuckles before putting his hands up in surrender.
“Did you not like ‘em?”
Katsuki huffs.
“The extras were alright,” is all he grits out.
Sighing, Eijirou just accepts it’s the only answer he’ll get for now, taking his seat on the passenger side of the car.
The car ride home is full of his best friend talking nonstop about football, his friends, their potential plans and hang-out spots during Katsuki's time visiting, and his girlfriend.
Through all of this is an obnoxious pop song on the radio that Eijirou was half-singing to, though Katsuki would argue it was more hooting and hollering than singing.
When they finally arrive home, Katsuki wordlessly gets out of the car and immediately beelines towards the door to the house and into eijirous bed.
He plops down with a loud thud, sighing with relief.
He was fucking exhausted.
As much as he missed his best friend, he missed his alone time already.
Being around so many extras at once was horrific, and he wasn’t sure how the red-haired man was able to maintain his sanity.
Eijirou is entering the room moments later, chuckling at the sight before him.
“Make yourself at home,” he teases, smirking.
“fuck off,” is the only thing Katsuki can muster at the moment.
He watches as his best friend lifts up his phone looks at himself through his camera, fidgeting and messing with his hair until it’s to his liking, and checking for food in his teeth.
Katsuki raises a brow and clears his throat.
The other just turns and gives him a cheeky grin.
“Ah, sorry kats. Forgot to tell you, Mina and I were supposed to be meeting up for a date in a few. Figured you would... you know,” he puts an arm out, gesturing to Katsuki sprawled out and visibly comfortable on the other’s bed.
“Figured you’d be tired and unwilling to do much anyway.”
He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.
Katsuki snorts because damn, his best friend knew him well.
“It’s alright, I’m fucking beat. Take your damn time, i couldn’t care less”
His best friend gives him a toothy, earnest grin.
“You’re the best, bro. But hey, I’ll be back before dinner, ‘kay?”
He does finger guns at him before grinning one last time and heading out his bedroom door, closing it behind him.
It was now just Katsuki and the familiar red walls that were Kirishima Eijiro's bedroom, and Katsuki’s childhood.
Again, it wasn’t much different from what Katsuki remembered, only there had been more trophies and medals for the other’s sport, of course, and fewer toys and posters.
He spotted several frilly and out-of-place items on his dresser that only led him to assume they were his girlfriend's.
Cheesy bastard.
The idea of sitting on eijirous bed now after remembering he had a girlfriend made him physically sick.
He hoped he had washed the blankets before his arrival.
He suddenly registered the heaviness in his pocket, an indication of his phone.
He reached to retrieve it from his pocket, pulling it out and squinting when the bright light made contact with his eyes.
It was only two-thirty.
He had several notifications, very few catching his interest.
Messages from Monoma and Hitoshi, his mother, and social media notifications.
He stopped when he saw a notification on Instagram from ei.
“Eijirou mentioned you in their story.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes when he remembers the persistence the other had when taking a picture of their meal.
He clicks on the notification, lazily unlocking his phone.
Lo and behold, there was their food.
He tagged all of the extras, and “denki,” Katsuki finally learned, even commented on the story.
Katsuki looked at the list of people mentioned again.
“@izukunotdeku”
It’s sitting there, nothing special, and yet it’s making him stare long and hard.
He doesn’t need to click on it.
He doesn’t even fucking care enough about the shitty nerd to click on it.
But then, only then, does he realize that that name rings a bell.
The name sends memories pulsing through his brain, yet nothing comes.
“Deku,” he speaks softly to himself.
Even just saying it feels familiar, feels right.
And it pisses him off even more that yes, he does fucking care enough to click on the username.
He’s clicking on it before he can even think about it too hard.
He’s taken to the greenette’s page and just stares at its contents.
He has several highlights, a nerdy profile picture that infuriates Katsuki because fuck, he’s cute.
And he has only one thing in his bio.
“17”
Katsuki scoffs, relishing the thought that he was, in fact, stalking.
He pretends like this isn’t stalking.
In fact, he tries to tell himself that this is only him trying to get to know the nerd without blatantly talking to him.
Because Katsuki fucking hates talking to extras.
But then he stops thinking about it entirely because shit, there’s no way to put it without sounding fucking creepy.
He clicks on the first highlight titled “artwork,” intrigued by the name.
He’s shocked to see beautiful assortments of drawings, rough drafts, little doodles all done with only a pencil and a college-ruled notebook.
So the shit nerd could draw? So what?
He pretends like he wasn’t just extremely impressed and taken aback.
He clicks on the next highlight to reveal videos of the boy skating, whether it was him landing an impressive trick or falling and laughing as his friends zoom in on his disgruntled face.
No fucking wonder the dude was covered in marks.
There is one last highlight that catches Katsuki’s interest the most—the highlight titled “me.”
He clicks on it and is met with a sight of green, unruly, and wild hair, Izuku’s face turned away from the camera.
He was bent down, arm extended out to pet a stray cat on the sidewalk.
Katsuki's lips tugged at the corners, but he did not realize it was forming.
The next photo is him and his friends posing for a photo that was clearly taken with a camera or something, because the quality was pristine and had a nostalgic feel to it.
He carelessly skims through the faces throughout the photo.
He spots the brunette girl with those huge ass eyes from earlier next to Izuku, along with the half-and-half-haired boy who was their server at the diner and a tall man with dark blue hair and black-rimmed glasses.
His eyes linger a little longer on the green eyes that wrinkle at the ends when he shines that big, beautiful smile.
Katsuki is so sick of this sappy shit that keeps spilling from his head.
He thinks it is because he is tired, because he is delirious and deprived of proper sleep.
He clicks off the nerd's highlights, partially seeing posts he has yet to check out, immediately clicking away from his page in favor of not gawking at the other anymore.
He lets his arm with the phone gripped in his hand still fall onto the bed with a huff, hearing the thud from the soft, pillowy comforter.
He suddenly realizes how comfortable he is, and how exhausted the day has made him.
He lets all his thoughts and feelings drain from his body as he takes in the quiet that is his best friend’s room.
His breathing evens out and his eyes are too heavy to open, so he lets sleep overcome him.