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Every idiot on the planet thought that Summer was Deku's best season. He'd traipse around in clingy tank tops and shorts and his skin would glisten. Katsuki had to admit, it was appealing.
But it had nothing on Deku in Autumn.
Today was the first hint—the suggestion of Autumn hung in the air as they left the dorms. They were heading to class and Kirishima was talking his fucking ear off as he pushed the doors open. Katsuki paused as he caught a face-full of crisp, cool air. His eyes darted to the trees, noting the light yellow hue the topmost leaves had taken.
He grinned.
"Woah, what's up with you, dude?" Kiri asked, eyeing his nearly psychotic smile with trepidation.
"Shut up," Katsuki replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
>> King Dork
it's cold. wear a fucking scarf or i'll kill u
He shoved his phone back in his pocket before pushing Kirishima back into motion. The rest of the class had never really seen Deku in full Autumn bloom since their first year had been so fucked with peril and bullshit. Deku had been so overwhelmed with his new quirks and constant villain attacks and Shigaraki that he'd been too nervous to reach peak Izuku Midoriya. Even now, Katsuki was the only one who knew what was about to happen.
He felt fucking giddy with anticipation.
He was not disappointed.
When Deku entered the classroom, he had a bright red scarf looped around his neck and his hair looked windswept—his cheeks flushed from the chill. His eyes were fucking glowing.
If Katsuki used words like 'adorable' or 'pretty,' he'd use them to describe Deku right now.
He barely noticed anyone else in the classroom—eyes fixed on the windows as he made his way to his seat. "Morning, Kacchan," he breathed, only greeting him out of habit.
"Nerd."
"Did you see? The leaves are changing!" he declared excitedly, still gazing out at the trees. "And we have so many maples on campus—there'll be so many pretty reds!"
"Hooray," he replied dryly. But on the inside, he meant it. The more colorful the trees were, the more delighted Deku would get. When the leaves started falling, he'd pick up the prettiest ones and press them into his nerd notebooks.
He spent three months so fucking excited about every little thing that Katsuki had to fight to look away from him. And it wasn't just leaves that got him going.
It was everything.
Pumpkin spice lattes, scarves, warm sweaters and adorable cardigans. Anything cozy or spiced or leafy—Deku loved it, so Katsuki loved it too.
Yes, because Katsuki loved Deku. Shut the fuck up about it.
"Dude, you gotta stop smiling like that," Kirishima uttered, disturbed. "You're freaking me out."
Deku looked at him then—taking in the planes of his face before settling on his eyes. Katsuki wasn't sure what he found there, but it made him blush and tuck his face into his scarf.
One week after the first chill came the first leaf.
He and Deku were walking back from their weekly evening training and Katsuki was doing his fucking best to listen to the endless litany of rambling while fighting his utter exhaustion.
It wasn't hard. Listening to Deku was soothing. The difficult part was keeping up with his thought process when it felt like both his brain and body had gone through a blender. Luckily, the nerd never held it against him when his mind drifted.
But when Deku stopped in his tracks and went silent, Katsuki stopped too, suddenly completely alert. He turned to see Deku crouching—gingerly picking up a perfect, rust-red leaf between scarred fingers, and relaxed—a little irritated. He'd thought Deku was hurt or something. Fuck.
"It's so pretty," he said, and Katsuki's heart fluttered at the soft awe on his face.
Deku was pretty, too. It was chilly now that the sun had set, and Deku's cheeks were flushed a gentle pink and the very tip of his nose was red and Katsuki wanted to kiss him until his face was blushing so hot that he could brave the cold without a scarf or jacket for hours.
"It's a leaf," Katsuki grumbled.
"It's almost the color of your hero costume," Deku commented idly as he twirled the little leaf, completely mesmerized. "I can't wait for the maples to turn. They'll be the color of—" he stopped short, eyes widening as he eyed Katsuki nervously. "Uh...my favorite scarf! Or the jungle gym at that playground we used to play in? Uh—"
Katuski frowned at him. "Are you gonna list red things right now? All of them? Calm the hell down. It's a fucking leaf."
"It's more than a leaf!" he insisted. "It's a reminder that even when you're on the ground—even when it's cold and dark and you're literally at the bottom, you can still be special! You can still make someone's day. And it's a promise that things change. Just like this leaf," he replied, presenting it proudly.
Katsuki examined him carefully—his blushing face and tousled curls. He turned around as soon as he felt heat creeping up his neck. "Sappy, nerd," he grunted, resuming his stomp toward the dorms.
"Guilty," he chuckled, scurrying after him.
The next morning, Katsuki found a leaf on his morning run and it was so pretty that it made his breath catch.
It was green in the center, but bleeding into a vibrant yellow and turning red at its very edge. He wiped his hands on his joggers and picked it up carefully, letting it catch the low morning light.
A promise that things change.
When Deku stumbled into class, looking windswept and pretty, the leaf was sitting on his desk.
The next stage of Deku's transformation into a cozy Autumn king happened when the cold officially set in. It heralded the beginning of his craft beverage creations.
It was one of the only things that Katsuki had still gotten to see up close, even when they weren't on good terms. Deku knew he hated the cold, and so he went out of his way to give Katsuki a little comfort, even if that comfort was ill received.
But one late October morning when Katsuki walked into the common room, the entire floor smelled like espresso and spices, and Katsuki knew his nerd was brewing something in the kitchen like a cottagecore witch that had absorbed too many basic white girls.
"Nerd," he huffed, strolling into the kitchen. Sure enough, Deku was bent over a pot like he was brewing a potion instead of fucking coffee. There was an entire fucking spice rack next to him, and he was bent over two different pots—one filled with whatever spice concoction he'd made, and the other heating milk. "Why don't you stick it in the fucking microwave?"
"Because," he huffed. "It tastes better this way, Kacchan! You can't feel the love when you fast-track it!"
"The love?" Katsuki snorted. "It's coffee, nerd."
Deku raised an eyebrow. Then, he set about preparing an actual travel mug full of the concoction—only pausing to froth the milk in a little cup and pour it over gently. There was a showy flourish to his movements that Katsuki was trying very hard not to roll his eyes at.
He was doing his best not to belittle the things the nerd found important. Anymore.
A minute later, the travel mug was pressed into his hand, and Deku raised an expectant eyebrow. Katsuki scowled at him. "Try it," he huffed.
Katsuki grumbled, but raised the mug to his lips. He knew it would be good—all of the drinks Deku had gotten for him in the past had been.
He hadn't anticipated how good it would taste when there wasn't any waiting time. In the past, Deku had toted the travel mug to school—almost twenty minutes of cool-down and time for the froth to dissipate.
But this was fresh and hot and it settled into his fucking bones like a warm blanket or a fucking hug or something. It was rich and sweet, but not too sweet—and it was riddled with warm spices that made his tongue tingle and his chest feel warm. "Holy fuck."
"Told you," Deku grinned. Katsuki scowled—partially to reprimand him for his know-it-all attitude, and partially so he had a reason to squint. That grin was fucking blinding, and it made his perfect, starry freckles look...starrier. Or whatever.
"Don't gotta be a little shit about it, fucker."
"Yes, I do!" Deku sang, frolicking back to the counter to pour the rest of the concoction into his own mug. "I made my own chai spice syrup. Do you like it?"
"I just said that it was good, why the fuck are you fishing for compliments?" Katsuki barked.
"Actually, you said 'holy fuck,' but that's technically not a review," Deku teased. "You liked the cinnamon caramel latte I made last year, but you said it was too sweet. So I tried something a little heavier on the spices this time."
"S'good," Katsuki mumbled.
Deku's grinned brightened even more. "Maybe I'll stick with it, then."
But the next morning, he was treated to a dark chocolate, clove, and cardamom mocha, and he loved that one just as much.
It got even colder.
The days got darker, earlier.
And the rest of the class seemed to understand what Katsuki did. Deku shone brighter to make up for it—nearly killing them all with his sheer fucking cuteness. It was a goddamn disaster, both for Katsuki's gay homeostasis and for heart muscles of the entire class.
"Oh my god," he heard Jirou whisper. Katsuki looked up from his book to find Deku walking in, wearing a soft, oversized sweater whose sleeves were so long that they fell past his thumbs. It was paired with a pair of leggings that clung to his thighs in a way that Katsuki could not afford to think about (they had a test tomorrow, he didn't need the distraction), and a pair of fuzzy slippers that looked like they could be part of Deku's future merch line.
Katsuki wanted to cuddle him to death. Squeeze him like a fucking python.
"Hey Kacchan," he muttered. Katsuki snapped out of his haze of cute-aggression and noticed that Deku looked frustrated. His hair was rumpled (and Katsuki 100% wanted to ruin it even more) and his lips were pursed. He was tempted to reach over and pull his lower lip from between his teeth. With his own teeth.
"What's wrong with you?" Katsuki grumbled, bumping his shoulder with his own.
"Physics," he muttered. "I don't get it. I've been working on it for hours, and I just—"
"Fuckin' relax," Katsuki huffed. "Gimme your work, I'll look at it. Go make yourself some coffee, we're staying up until I've beaten it into your skull."
Deku gave him a soft smile and the butterflies in Katsuki's stomach turned into bats which flapped so violently that he felt like throwing up. He wanted to eat that smile. Nibble it off his mouth while they were both wrapped in blankets...and probably watching an All Might movie.
"Thanks, Kacchan. I'll make you one, too," he said, giving him an awkward little side-hug before standing and walking toward the kitchen. Katsuki didn't take his eyes off him until he was completely out of sight.
"Damn, dude," Jirou piped up. "You're whipped."
Katsuki scoffed, looking over at her. "Who isn't?"
Jirou seemed to consider that for a moment, before nodding—a little dazed. "You have a point."
Autumn was in full swing, now. Leaves littered the ground, there was a permanent chill in the air, every fucking menu on the goddamn planet was pimping pumpkin spice, and Deku—
Deku had unearthed his endless collection of scarves and beanies. Plain ones, cute ones, pretty ones, ugly ones. Every morning, Deku would show up with his fluffy green hair peeking out from yet another adorable beanie (yes, they were adorable even if they were ugly as fuck) and his freckled cheeks and glowing eyes visible from behind clumpy, poorly tied scarves.
Katsuki felt fucking blessed. It was an ongoing fashion show of cozy nerd style, and Katsuki was feeling the pull of cuffing season more violently than ever before.
But no matter how adorable he looked, Katsuki felt like something was...off. There was something missing.
And then one evening, Deku walked into the common wearing sunset orange hues clashing with his emerald hair and it was so close to what Katsuki wanted to see that he realized exactly what the nerd was missing.
Later that night, when Deku had disappeared with his nerd squad (and had taken Katsuki's whole-ass soul with him), he set about making his dreams a reality.
"Yo, Ponytail!" he barked. Yaomomo looked up as Katsuki stomped over, eyebrows raising as she took in the blush rising on his cheeks.
"Bakugou," she greeted him. "Can I help you?"
"I'll take over your chores for a month if you help me with something," he muttered. Since Yaomomo was studying with Jirou, she heard too—but no one else did.
"There's no need to take over my chores," Yaomomo waved him off. "What do you need?"
"I don't like owing people shit," Katsuki huffed.
"Fine," she replied. "Tell me what you want and I'll tell you the price." Katsuki raised an impressed eyebrow.
He stared at her for a moment, and she could tell that he was reconsidering asking for help. He never asked for help. She smiled at him encouragingly and then, very slowly, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of her.
She glanced it over, and Katsuki had no idea how to interpret the series of expressions that shifted across her face. "Okay. No problem," she murmured. She lifted her shirt and he averted his eyes as she fulfilled his request.
"So? What the fuck do you want?" he asked as she pushed the items into his hands.
She pinned him with the most dry, deadpan, unimpressed look he'd ever seen in his goddamn life. "Just ask him out already."
He blushed furiously. "The fuck are you talking about? Fuck you!" he snapped, turning on his heel and stomping away.
The next morning, he couldn't stop his foot from tapping restlessly and his fingers from drumming along his desk impatiently. The night before, he'd barged into Deku's room and thrown the items in Deku's face.
He'd yelled: "I had prototypes made and they're ugly as fuck. Keep them if you want or burn them or what-the-fuck-ever. Fuck you." Then, he'd stormed out and he'd been kicking himself over the whole interaction for about ten hours now. Deku must think he'd lost his mind.
But then, the nerd appeared in the doorway.
Wearing a simple black beanie with a bright orange X embroidered into the brim. And a thick, black scarf with a single orange striped running along the side. The scarf terminated in a jagged edge lined with more orange—reminiscent of Katsuki's own headgear.
A curl of possessive delight twisted around his guts. He had to fight off his smile—clinging hard to his scowl. But Yaomomo caught his eye when she walked in, and her smile was smug.
He flipped her off.
While Deku's parade of scarves had continued, he seemed to have made an everlasting commitment to the beanie.
He wore it all the time. Whenever he was in public, it was tucked carefully over his curls. Which, consequentially, meant that Katsuki was constantly staring at him—pleased and possessive.
And because Katsuki's eyes were always drawn to the nerd, he immediately noticed when the final stage of Deku's Autumn Metamorphosis had taken place.
He watched as he talked to SugarLips quietly, gesticulating his thoughts with his massive hands as the muscle-head nodded along. He watched as Deku's mouth curved to form words—barely managing to read 'Loaf Pan' as it tumbled off his lips.
Deku's Autumn Baking Frenzy had begun.
It started small—a tray of molasses cookies here, some fresh-baked morning cinnamon rolls there.
But then, the frenzy began in earnest.
On the first Saturday of the official baking frenzy, the class woke up to 20 freshly baked pies—one in each of their favorite flavors—whether that meant savory or sweet. (Most of them had no idea how he'd figured out their favorite pie flavors.)
Katsuki himself had been treated to a curried beef pot pie. A small one, since Deku knew he wouldn't fuck up his diet to eat a full-sized pie. It was fucking delicious, and Katsuki was fucking in love with him.
Then came the apple cider donuts and pumpkin bread cupcakes and fresh honey challah bread—each item more complex and technical and tasty than the last.
It was so fucking domestic, and Yaomomo had only made it worse when she'd seen what a mess the nerd made in the kitchen while he baked. Deku was practically living in soft sweatpants, oversized sweaters, and the fucking Dynamight beanie, and now he'd tied it all together with an adorable frilly Deku-branded apron that read "Detroit Snack" in big blocky letters. Katsuki hated it.
Well, Katsuki hated it because he fucking loved it. He spent half his time wanting to kiss Deku and kick Yaomomo, and the other half wanting to kiss Yaomomo and squeeze Deku until he popped.
It all came to a head late on a Friday evening. Katsuki was fucking wired. Hero training had been cancelled that day (because some dumbass in 1-B had set off their quirk and broken Caterpillar-sensei's arm), so he lacked the exhaustion required to fall asleep properly.
He trudged down to the kitchens, hoping that Ponytail had left some of that fucking delicious sleep-aid tea in the cupboard for fuckers like him who needed to be exhausted or fucking drugged to get some shuteye. Instead, he entered the kitchen just as Deku was taking a loaf pan out of the oven.
Wearing Deku-branded oven mitts that looked like cartoon broccoli, along with his 'Detroit Snack' apron and Dynamight beanie. He was a vision. Perfection.
It was too late at night for Katsuki to be this gay. It was too much.
"Oh! Hey, Kacchan!"
"It's two in the fucking morning. Why are you awake?" Katsuki grumbled, stomping past him to get to the cupboard.
"Inspiration struck. Had to bake," he mumbled as he prodded at the top of the loaf in question. He seemed satisfied with the way it sprung back. "I think you'll really like this one!"
"You're gonna give me diabetes, fuckhead," Katsuki snapped.
"Nah," Deku smiled up at him, and Katsuki's heart thudded against his sternum. "I cut the sugar in the stuff I make for you. I know you don't hate sweet stuff, but I'd never make something as sweet for you as I do for Sato, you know?" he continued, turning back to his creation.
"You spend so much fucking time on this shit," Katsuki grumbled. Deku looked wounded when he looked up at him, and Katsuki had never backpedalled so fast in his entire life. "No! Fuck, I mean—" he groaned, rubbing his hand across his face. "You're going above and beyond to make different shit for different people. Why don't you just make the stuff you like and let people mooch off you if they like it?"
Izuku huffed. "I do! That's basically exactly what I do. I've been sharing everything I make, but it's not like I make stuff I don't like! I've been eating it too," he insisted.
Katsuki scowled. "The fucking pies? You don't like Indian curries, nerd. At least, not the super fucking spicy ones. You made that hot enough to burn me."
Deku blushed then, turning back to his loaf. "Yeah, well, you're different," he muttered, beginning to maneuver the loaf onto a cooling rack. He said it petulantly, but underneath it there was that tone—the one he used to describe why he liked Autumn leaves, especially the red ones.
Katsuki didn't have anything to say, so he fiddled with the teapot and snagged a mug from the cupboard. When he turned back around, Deku had put a (still steaming) slice of the unidentified loaf on a plate, and was holding it out for Katsuki timidly. He eyed it, already sure he was going to love it but unsure if he wanted to intake sugar this late at night.
"What is it?" he asked, taking the plate.
"Gingerbread spice cake. And, to make it more ginger-y, I steeped ginger in the milk before using it in the batter," he explained.
That sounded so fucking good. Goddammit.
Instead of reaching for a fork in the drawer, Katsuki tore off a (burning hot) piece with his thumb and forefinger. Deku squawked in protest, hurrying forward to stop him from handling the hot food when Katsuki pinned him with a glare. "I literally make my hands explode. Cake ain't gonna fuckin' hurt me, shithead."
Deku stopped short, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as his hands dropped to his side. "Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "Right."
Katsuki popped the piece into his mouth. It took a second for the flavors to hit him, because his tongue was less equipped to handle the heat than his hands were. But then he registered what was happening in his mouth and he stilled, eyes going wide. Then, they fell shut and he let out an involuntary moan.
It was easily the best fucking thing he'd ever tasted.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Deku, marry me," he mumbled—too busy savoring the fucking cake to really take notice of what he was saying.
Until Deku spoke up, that is.
"Well," he chuckled, and it sounded more nervous than amused. "Marriage might be a little fast." Katsuki's eyes snapped open and he stared at Deku in open horror. He was shifting uncomfortably, and Katsuki felt his stomach falling to his knees. Shit. He'd fucked it up. God damn it. "How about a date first?"
Katsuki's brain stalled. Panic ebbing and slowly getting replaced by confusion. Then shock. "Huh?"
"I mean, I kinda figured you were leading up to it with the scarf," Deku chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes. "But you know, if I'm wrong just ignore me—"
"We're dating now," Katsuki cut him off. "You have plans tonight?"
Deku shook his head, gazing up at him in awe. "Nope. Just more baking."
"Fuck that. I'm making you dinner. Then we're gonna watch shitty movies. And if you let me I'm gonna kiss you until your fucking lips fall off."
Deku was blushing so hard that he could cook the aforementioned dinner on his face. "Wanna start now?" he offered timidly.
Katsuki's answering grin was fucking feral. "Fuck yeah!"