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Katsuki doesn’t quite understand it, but there’s a part of him that itches thinking of their nearing graduation ceremony.
He’s damn ready to get out there and make a name for himself, ready to get into university, get his bachelor’s degree in physics, a master’s degree in theoretical physics, and then a doctorate degree in the same direction. He’s got things planned out for all that people like to see him as some reckless delinquent— his records are sparkling clean, his grades have him ranked somewhere in the top 5 nationally, and he’s got goals .
Yet here he is, two days to go until their graduation, hosting Todoroki Shouto in his house because the fucker is a manipulative little shit who knew he could goad Katsuki into making him cold soba with the words, “ Oh, I doubt your cold soba is as good as my favorite restaurant’s cold soba. ”
What an ass.
As if Katsuki would lose to a damn small-time restaurant in making delicious soba.
“This is really good." Todoroki speaks in the middle of slurping away at his soba, utterly destroying what illusions anyone might have of him looking princely. “You’ve surprised me again, Bakugou.”
“I did tell you I’m great at cooking,” Katsuki grumbles, annoyed as he takes his time to slurp at his soba without talking , because he’s a civilized human being. He chews, internally thanking his foresight at having invited Todoroki when his parents weren’t home. He knew better than to think his mother wouldn’t compare him if ever she caught sight of Todoroki; she already did it without knowing the kid himself just because his name was familiar from the class list— being the son of Todoroki Enji, CEO of Endeavor Corp., wasn’t exactly a subtle thing to be.
“You did,” Todoroki agrees, nodding as he picks up more soba with his chopsticks. “I should have believed you.”
Katsuki scoffs. “I’m not an idiot, I knew you were just trying to goad me, dumbass.”
“And yet, you fed me anyway...you must like me a lot,” Todoroki says, and that —
That’s weird . It’s weird that he has this weird…friend-like relationship with Todoroki, given that Todoroki is exactly the kind of type of person he dislikes. Rich and privileged, clueless about general society, frustratingly blank-faced and lacking a brain-to-mouth filter 95% of the time. He’s the entire embodiment of all the things Katsuki is supposed to dislike, so why?
Why is he even here?
“You wish,” Katsuki snaps back, rolling his eyes.
Todoroki smiles him. Katsuki’s insides riot in response, and he hates it so fucking much. What the hell is wrong with him and his body?
Maybe he needs to think about something else. Talk about something else, like—
“Has anyone asked for your second button yet?” he blurts out.
Todoroki blinks twice in quick succession, seeming surprised at his question. “My second button..?”
“From your gakuran, dummy,” Katsuki says with a put-upon sigh. “The second button from your uniform, no one’s asked for it? I’d have thought the girls would be smart enough to ask in advance.”
Todoroki gives him a weird look like he’s the one being strange, when really Todoroki should have at least known this. Shouldn’t he? Or was he so sheltered, so caged in by his father that he couldn’t even know this? Going from the stories he’s overheard, the things he didn’t intend to find out when Todoroki had asked (read: coerced) him to have dinner at his house, it might not be that far-off, but still…
“No one’s asked for it,” Todoroki answers finally, patting at his gakuran’s second button. “As far as I can recall, at least. Is it important?”
“Do you want a love life before you leave high school?”
Todoroki pauses at that, looking like he’s considering it as he stares down at his cold soba. “Not particularly, no…”
Katsuki’s brain decides for him before he can stop it, and he says, “Give it to me, then.”
“You want my second button? For what?”
Katsuki groans, before reaching out with an open palm at him above the table. “I don’t want it, I’ll just hold onto it for you until graduation day. You can ask for it back if you reconsider the thing about having a love life.”
Todoroki’s blank face flashes a hint of annoyance, lips curling downwards and eyebrows furrowing for a fraction of a second, until it’s immediately gone. Katsuki finds an odd pleasure in seeing it, knowing that he’d been the cause of the slight distortion in Todoroki’s usually void expression.
Maybe he just really, really hates Todoroki, deep down in his heart. Maybe that’s why his body is weird about him.
(Somehow, he doubts that, even to himself. Hating Todoroki would mean not feeding him, and he's not that much of a dumbass with his feelings.)
“You really want me to ruin my uniform for this thing you refuse to explain?” Todoroki asks again, stubborn.
Katsuki, equally stubborn (if not more so), shoots back, “Yeah, pretty much. You either trust me or you don’t, Todoroki.”
Todoroki gives him a long look then, gaze sharp enough that Katsuki struggles not to shift in his seat. It was, perhaps, an unintentionally weighted question, given that he was asking for Todoroki's trust for something so dumb. He eventually says, frustrated, "Girls ask for the second button like it's a confession, idiot. When you give it to them, it means you like them or some shit."
Todoroki's eyes widen in seeming realization, before going back down to the usual size as he nods in understanding. "I see. Why the second button in particular, though?"
"Supposedly close to the heart, or because it's the least inconvenient one to remove or some shit," Katsuki explains simply.
Todoroki nods. Then, promptly and without warning, he rips the second button off of his gakuran and holds it over to him above the table.
Katsuki stares at him, and Todoroki stares back.
There's no trace of teasing, no trace of confusion, no trace of anything on his face when he says, "Here."
Katsuki squints at the button in his palm, feeling even stranger about it now. He'd considered asking for it to be a nuisance to the girls who'd want to ask for it on graduation day, liking the thought of having the upper hand over them on something minor, but now that Todoroki was giving it trouble-free…
Warily, he asks, "You're not thinking anything weird about me asking for it, are you?"
Todoroki blinks, then shakes his head. "No."
Ugh .
"Fine, I'll take it," he huffs, swiping the button off of Todoroki's palm and pocketing it quickly, not wanting to make it any weirder than it already is.
Todoroki doesn't say anything more, instead choosing to go back to eating. The loss of the button doesn't seem to be much of an issue given his blasé treatment in giving it away, so Katsuki chooses not to comment on it either.
It's just a stupid button, anyway.
"Todoroki-kun!" Ashido says, grin friendly and oddly sly as she bounds over to Todoroki, who is emotionally inept enough to notice none of this as she slaps a hand to his back. "Congratulations to all of us! How does it feel to have graduated?"
"It's strange," Todoroki answers. "I've changed a lot, being here. I think...I'll miss all of you."
There's a chorus of cooing and Todoroki immediately gets tugged into a group hug, looking mildly overwhelmed enough that Katsuki snickers at the sight of him. Kirishima, arm wrapped over his shoulders as he talks to Deku, seems to notice his amusement, and— shit .
"Group hug!" Kirishima yells, boisterous as ever as he drags Katsuki, complaints and all, into the hug along with the others. It's a messy thing, managing to fit an entire class into a singular group hug, but goddamn does Kirishima try.
Fine, maybe he will miss the idiots when they part ways.
But it's not like they can't fucking call, damn. There's absolutely no need for Deku's blubbering like they'll never see each others' faces again.
"You'd think one of us died," Katsuki grumbles, finally managing to escape from Kirishima's ridiculous half-hug while straightening out his uniform. "It's not like you can't call each other, idiots. You have phones for a reason."
"But it won't be the same anymore," Ashido whines. "And things are changing now! We're stepping into the world of adults!"
"And!" Hagakure exclaims, "we're on a brand new journey! Maybe we'll find love soon after, who knows! It's exciting but still a little scary, you know?"
Katsuki rolls his eyes, though he does get what they mean on some level. It's not like he'll admit to that, however; he's sincere, but not to that point. He has no time nor room for soft shit in his life, no matter what anyone else thinks.
"That reminds me, Todoroki-kun!" Uraraka says, a strange gleam to her eyes as she sidles up to Todoroki with a grin. "Has anyone asked for your second button yet?"
Todoroki looks to her, and says frankly, "I don't have it anymore."
There's a second of silence, like the calm before the storm, then—
"What?!"
"So fast!"
"Who was it?!"
"They moved quickly!"
"Bakugou has it," Todoroki answers, catching Katsuki's gaze with what looks like a challenging expression. It's hard to tell, even after the three years they've spent together in high school— though that's not the issue here, going by the wide-eyed, scattered looks of shock, glee, and mild dismay on his classmates' faces.
Katsuki feels his face heat up at the sudden focus on him, pissed at the way Todoroki had thrown all the attention on him with a stupid-ass misunderstanding to boot. He yells, "Don't be fucking stupid, it wasn't like that!"
"Like what, Kacchan?" Deku asks, round eyes gone sharp on him, eyeing him askance as he squints. "We didn't say anything, but what did you think we were thinking?"
"I didn't ask for it!" he argues, before shooting a glare Todoroki's way when he tries to open his mouth. "I made him give it, fine , but it wasn't because of the weird meaning you idiots are thinking of! I just wanted to piss people off!"
"You certainly did," Ashido says, smirk wide on her face as she eyes the creeping crowd of girls hanging at a corner to their group. They're an odd kind of monolith, seemingly moving as one when they glare at Katsuki like he deserves death, to which he smirks widely in turn. Ashido adds, "Now what, are you gonna keep it just to be a dick?"
Katsuki shrugs, before bringing out the aforementioned button from his pocket. He holds it up, making sure it's visible to Todoroki's fan girls when he says to Ashido, "You can have it, if you want. It's just a stupid button, anyway."
Ashido makes a face. "I don't want to be enemy number one to those girls, Bakugou. I love you and all, but you're not worth dying for."
Katsuki cackles at the very idea.
"Perhaps you're the only one brave enough to hold onto it," Todoroki says, something thoughtful to his expression as he looks at the button in Katsuki's hand. "You should keep it."
"Maybe I will," Katsuki huffs, pocketing the button again.
"You'll take responsibility, then?"
Their classmates go quiet at that, making Katsuki wonder if he'd gone deaf for a second in time as Todoroki looks back up at his face. He looks blank-faced as always, but somehow, something about how he's looking at him makes him feel...nervous. What the hell is wrong with him? What the fuck.
"Take responsibility for what, your fan girls?" he asks, annoyed at feeling off-kilter. "You expect me to be your bodyguard for a damn button? I'm worth more than this, dumbass."
Todoroki actually shows a hint of a smile, that smug fucker. "What more do you want? You already have my feelings."
Katsuki stares blankly at him.
"Oh my god," Deku whispers.
"Your...what," Katsuki grits out, getting more and more annoyed as he feels more of that confusing heat in his cheeks. "Feelings? What the hell are you talking about?"
Todoroki raises an eyebrow at him. Katsuki is so, so close to punching him in the face, until Todoroki says, "I like you. That's what giving the button means, right? And I gave it to you."
Katsuki—
chokes on a breath. He physically coughs, covering his mouth with a hand as he stares wide-eyed at Todoroki. He wants to demand him to stop with the stupid joke, to not prank him so childishly like this, but Todoroki isn't insensitive enough to joke about feelings. Out of everyone he knows, Todoroki wouldn't be that kind of asshole.
"What the fuck," Katsuki manages to say. "What the—"
"Oh my god, this is so romantic," Ashido gushes, looking absolutely fucking gleeful now as she grabs Katsuki by the arm and shakes him. "Bakugou, you dummy, he likes you back!"
Todoroki's eyes blink wide for a moment, before—
"It's unfair," Hagakura groans to the side, "Todoroki-kun looks even more handsome smiling! Unfair!"
"You like me back," Todoroki says, smiling visibly as he steps closer, utterly ignoring the shrieking cheers they get as he nears Katsuki. He holds out his hand and Katsuki is too shocked to deny him, letting Todoroki hold his hand as they look at each other. "I wasn't sure, but I figured, maybe..."
"You're an idiot," he chokes out. He feels himself struggle on the inside, his brain and body torn on where he wants to go, what he wants to do, until he finally succumbs and squeezes Todoroki's hand back, interlacing their fingers together.
He thoroughly ignores the rise in pitch of the screaming as he mutters under his breath, "You better not fuckin' regret this, halfie."
Todoroki dares to raise his hand to press a kiss to the back of it, the fucking embarrassing asshole that he is.
He's smiling when he looks back up, and somehow, Katsuki feels powerful. More powerful than he's ever felt in a dojo, and more powerful than when he confirmed he'd topped nationally with his grades. This is something he won because Todoroki freely decided he was worth the trouble of having feelings for, and not because Bakugou actively made an action plan to get his affection.
Todoroki says, "I won't, Bakugou. Promise."
Katsuki grins back, feeling victorious.
"I'm taking your word for it, Todoroki."