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“You don’t need to leave so soon, y’know,” Kacchan mumbled into the mug of tea he brought to his mouth. “Act like you got a more important place to be or some shit.”
Pausing the collection of his study notes and books on the bed, Deku frowned at Kacchan’s profile a short distance away at his desk. A limited edition, framed poster of All Might stood stark on Kacchan’s otherwise bare wall, right above his study area. Kacchan hunched at his desk, lashes lowered as he looked into the tea from which he drank, black-socked feet jittering on the hardwood floor.
“I-I don’t have anywhere else to be,” Deku said, choosing the words carefully, weighing them on his tongue before he spoke. Interactions with Kacchan still proved rocky at times. Their budding friendship was a dance Deku handled with care and plenty of space. If there was anything Kacchan needed, it was space in which signal the next step. “Why? Is there another subject you’d like to work on?”
“That the only shit you think about, nerd?” Kacchan spun in his chair, eyes like hot brands, constantly searching to sear through skin to the bone.
“Um.” Deku swallowed, gaze fluttering around the room. “Y-no? I mean, no, of course it’s not! But you invited me here to study, so –“
“You do realize I’m smarter than you at math, right?” Kacchan said, that sharp scythe of a grin gutting across his angled features. He slouched in his seat, knees spread wide, the jut of his chin cocky as ever. “I’m clearly doin’ you a favor here.”
“I’m not that far behind you, Kacchan!” Cheeks puffed out, his face heating under that sly smile’s scrutiny as he fastidiously shoved books, pens, and paper into his bookbag. “You do realize I’m not thirteen anymore, right? See how far you get being an asshole.”
Bounding off the neatly made bed, Deku made for the door.
“Hey!”
A hot hand clamped at Deku’s wrist, didn’t yank but held on as Deku rounded on him with electric eyes.
“What, Kacchan?”
Standing before him with a blank expression, Kacchan blinked, lips parted as if he’d forgotten what he’d said, or how he’d moved from the chair to the door in such a flash.
“I –“
“Sorry to interrupt whatever’s coming,” Deku said, biting back the sour taste of disappointment. “But we’re barely a half year from graduating and I’m trying. I want to try with you, but you also have try –“
“So don’t fuckin’ go, you idiot!”
Katsuki pulled.
The bookbag fell, splayed out books, pens rolling astray. Deku’s gasp filled the air as a strong arm banded around his waist, crushing him close, his wrist still manacled with Katsuki’s iron grip.
“Wh-wha-“ Deku swallowed hard, his hips inevitably pressed to Kacchan’s, too close, closer than they’d been since they’d been five and sharing a sleeping bag in the back garden in their popup tent. Deku had to arch his back and shoulders to keep their faces from bumping, his free hand crushed between their chests, palm flat on Kacchan’s raging heartbeat.
Owlish eyes unwavering on Kacchan’s blazing stare, Deku felt the sweat instantly pool at the base of his spine, the backs of his knees, his hands.
“What’re you doing?” Deku whispered, his throat parched, his brain fizzled to ash and smoke.
“You really think I wanted a goddamn study buddy all this time, Deku?” Kacchan sounded like he’d swallowed the desert. His dark pink tongue darted forth, swiped his chapped lips as his attention dropped to Deku’s mouth.
“You still got a more important place to be?”
A hot, thick drag of some heady, unknown flavor weighed down Deku’s tongue, pooled languidly in his gut.
“I – no? Are – do you? Have somewhere?”
Kacchan’s brows scrunched, eyes slitted.
“I’m always exactly where I wanna be.”
Deku’s knees buckled and he swayed, dizzy from the sweltering stretch of Kacchan’s body against his.
“Oh. Oh. Well, then I guess – mmf.“
Kacchan’s lips were a fever against his own, lighting a pyre for Deku from the inside out. Inexperienced and clumsy with it, Deku could only bunch a fist in the collar of Kacchan’s shirt and cling, riding out the shift of that mouth, the scrape of sharp canines across his lower lip, the quick, almost shy swipe of tongue at the seam of Deku’s lips.
Then Deku was gasping, having forgotten how to do the two at the same time, his face flushed as he sucked in shallow breaths. Kacchan’s rested his chin on Deku’s shoulder, his voice a familiar and yet utterly alien thing so close, so intimate.
“You have no idea how many quadratic formulas it took to get here. Fuckin’ Deku.”