Work Text:
last night I told you I loved you, woke up blamed it on the vodka
I genuinely thought I was dying
and I could see that smile you were hiding
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Their final exams were finally over.
This meant that Mina and Kaminari were holding their annual end-of-year party. They always said it was a time to bond and de-stress but everyone knew it was just an excuse to let loose. Every year it was the same mess of cheap booze, cheap food and even cheap colour-changing lights which was a sad attempt for decoration. This also meant that everyone in their class was, by default, invited.
Bakugou didn’t appreciate parties, exactly. But he turned up every year – most of the time due to constant nagging by his friends, and the knowledge that he’d get dragged by Kirishima one way or another, anyways. “We survived another year!” His friends would yell all too cheerfully, pumping their fists in the air like they’d just won the lottery. “You should lighten up.”
Lighten up. Believe it or not, Bakugou wasn’t a big drinker. Growing up aspiring and working hard to be a great hero usually didn’t leave any room for drinking or vaping or whatever it was most high school kids were doing nowadays. Bakugou could hardly care less.
It’s 7pm now, which means Mina’s party is starting in approximately 2ish hours and Kirishima has taken to invading Bakugou’s room with his tight, tight jeans and questionable tops that revealed way too much arm. “Are you ever scared that your blood circulation’s gonna get cut off?” Bakugou says mildly from where he’s flopped on the bed, staring as Kirishima tugs on another pair of pants, “Or that your fucking dick is just gonna cramp up in there and fall off?”
Kirishima rolls his eyes at him in the mirror. “You’re one to talk. Half of these stupid jeans are yours.”
“Fuck. Gross. Burn that shit.”
“Good quality Levi jeans? You’re insane,” Kirishima clicks his tongue at Bakugou and starts flapping the pants around in Bakugou’s face for more emphasis.
“I’m not wearing any fucking pants your junk has touched, idiot!”
“Dude! I wear boxers!” Kirishima says, “And besides, you’re like gay as shit. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Bakugou gives him a scowl, and Kirishima laughs at him. Typical. “I have standards,” Bakugou settles on saying, and relishes in the offended look his best friend gives him.
“You don’t have standards. You have a type. And a very specific type – green hair, green eyes-” Kirishima gets cut off with a loud ‘oof’ as a pillow gets quite literally barraged into his face from the force of Bakugou’s throw.
“Shut the fuck up, dude.”
Kirishima grabs the pillow off the ground, then throws it back. Bakugou catches it skilfully with one hand. “I’m not wrong. Speaking of, anyways, are you ever going to make a move on him?”
And Kirishima knows Bakugou hates this – talking about Midoriya like as if they were two middle-schooled girls gossiping about their crushes during a sleepover. But he does it anyways.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bakugou deadpans.
“Aw – is someone shy?” Kirishima sing-songs, doing a little jiggle in front of the mirror that has Bakugou throwing a glare at him. “Be a man, Bakugou! It’s about time you said something. We’re graduating next year, anyways, right?”
“I will kick you out of my fucking room,” Bakugou warns. Kirishima smiles at him, but holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m just trying to be a good wingman.”
“Just fucking change! And don’t use my jeans, Jesus Christ.”
They spend their next few hours battling each other on Mario Kart and arm wrestling before Kirishima is pushing Bakugou into the bathroom to take a shower and change because “you smell like the fried chicken we had for lunch and that is not attractive.” before Bakugou could even try and find a way out of it.
Neither of them can drive, and so they decide to bunk in with Yaoyorozu. She had the biggest, nicest car, complete with air fresheners, cup holders and snacks in the back seat and it was a no brainer that they’d go to her to ask for a ride. When she reaches, Bakugou notices Uraraka’s seated shotgun, and she turns to give them both a big smile and a wave. Bakugou has half a mind to ask why she wasn’t going with Midoriya, but decides not to. She winks at him when he straps his seatbelt on, but doesn’t say anything else. Bakugou eyes her cautiously for the rest of the ride.
They reach relatively late, and Mina welcomes them in with an excited yell. There should really have only been their classmates here but other classes must have gotten wind of it because Bakugou notes the unfamiliar faces he sees when he walks in. They part ways with Uraraka and Yaoyorozu, and linger near the door for a minute – well, mostly because Bakugou was still scanning the area, looking out for a certain someone.
Kirishima seems to notice, and nudges him in the ribs. “I’m sure he’ll come.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou says through gritted teeth and Kirishima lets out a long sigh.
“I’m gonna make you a drink, okay?” Kirishima says, before leading the both of them into the kitchen. Bakugou wants to protest and maybe whack Kirishima in the face but he guesses a few drinks wouldn’t hurt. He watches warily as Kirishima hums about the kitchen, opening cabinets and plucking things from the fridge like as if it was his own house. He doesn’t exactly know what Kirishima’s doing but he’s adding too many different things into one cup and even Bakugou knows that can’t be good.
“Are you trying to fucking poison me, what the fuck?” Bakugou snaps when Kirishima finally finshes. Bakugou has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, and he doesn’t feel like removing them to take the cursed cup from Kirishima’s hands. The red-head pushed the cup towards him, grinning wickedly and wiggling his brows in an over-exaggerated manner. “If you don’t drink it, you’re a pussy.”
Bakugou really wants to whack Kirishima in the face now. But Kirishima knows how to get under his skin and push him just right. Which is why Bakugou gives him a snarl and snatches the cup from his hands before downing it in one go. He tries not to grimace at the taste. He’s never been one for drinking, and this was a new experience for him.
Kirishima whoops once the cup is empty and claps Bakugou on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“It tastes like dogshit,” Bakugou says, crumpling the paper cup and hurling it at Kirishima.
“You can take the apple cider if you want. Less strong stuff, tastes pretty good.”
Bakugou takes the apple cider. He must have taken more cups than he thought or maybe it was the weird mixture that Kirishima prepared for him or maybe (actually, that is exactly the reason) he’s just a goddamned lightweight but pretty soon everything feels warm and hazy. The back of his neck was hot to the touch, and Bakugou wishes he had some ice.
He plays beer pong with some friends – loses one round and dominates the rest, before Kaminari tries to engage him with a dance and Bakugou escapes by forcing his way out. Somehow, he finds himself in all sorts of situations that were too much and too noisy. A girl he doesn’t know even walks up to him and starts fluttering her eyelashes, speaking in a honey-sweet voice and trailing her fingers down his arm. Bakugou tells her to “Fuck off” and she quite literally recoils.
He decides he’s had enough of the party. He could still hear yelling near the front door where Jirou and Mina were trying to kick a wailing Mineta out of the party. There was more, too. Iida had turned up and was desperately trying to replace all the alcohol with bottles of water, Kaminari had abandoned handling the music to make out with a certain red-haired (which meant that autoplay was on and Bakugou had to suffer through Justin Bieber’s Yummy – he’s so going to kill Kirishima the next day for being the main cause of this) Monoma was shrieking about something that sounded like “strip!” and there was some guy whose name Bakugou couldn’t be bothered to remember playing his guitar and droning lyrics like a druggie.
Finding refuge in a corner, Bakugou leans against the wall and exhales. Every year this happens; Bakugou comes to the party, regrets it, and goes home early if he manages to sneak out without any one of his friends pulling him back in.
But now that there were no distractions, Bakugou finds his eyes wandering against his will. It just so happens that he finally sees the one person he’d been (subconsciously) looking for since the party started. Midoriya catches his eyes from across the room, where he’s talking with Uraraka. They stare at each other for a moment and Bakugou’s not really sure how to react.
He watches as Uraraka notices Bakugou too, and leans in to whisper something into Midoriya’s ear. The green-haired starts shaking his head vehemently, while Uraraka nods back. They banter for abit more before Uraraka makes a big show of yawning and stretching her arms out, her crop top riding up, before walking away and waving goodbye to Midoriya.
The green-haired stares after her, looking a little betrayed, before turning his attention back to Bakugou. Surprised, Bakugou straightens a little bit then cringes internally at himself. Midoriya’s mouthing something at him, but Bakugou can’t make it out.
In the end, they give up and Midoriya walks up towards him. Bakugou tries to pretend he doesn’t care. He swears his heart remains calm.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Midoriya says, beaming. He has a drink that’s half empty in one hand, and somewhere in the back of Bakugou’s mind (the part that isn’t gradually spiralling into panic) he’s thinking about how he’s never going to fucking drink again. Fucking Kirishima. “I don’t really have a choice,” Bakugou replies, coolly (or at least that’s what he thinks). He hopes he isn’t slurring. He can’t tell if he is.
“Well, I’m glad to see you here.” Midoriya’s talking because he always talks too much. It’s good, because Bakugou wasn’t a good talker.
“Yeah, whatever,” Bakugou says, then pauses. He looks at Midoriya, trying not to make it obvious that he’s checking him out. “You look different.”
“Oh?” Midoriya looks pleasantly surprised at this as he tugs at his collar with a sheepish smile. “Like good different?” Shit, when’d the nerd get so bold?
“Fuck, I don’t know,” Bakugou says a little too hastily. He tries to calm himself, but he can’t. He blames it on the drinks. “I only ever see you in the U.A. uniform and shit – like, in school.”
“Oh, right. I feel like we should hang out sometime – like, um,” Midoriya falters a little, glimpsing at Bakugou’s face to gauge his reaction, “Outside school, maybe.”
Bakugou’s heart nearly stops working altogether. He tries to work his throat but for a scary second, nothing comes out. He keeps his eyes on Midoriya – the fidgeting of his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“Yeah, maybe,” Bakugou croaks out. His voice is raspy and hoarse and he winces at the sound. Midoriya perks up at this, nervous habits fading away at his response.
This feels weird. This whole situation. Bakugou didn’t know what to make of it. He’s never been drunk in front of Midoriya before, and he’s starting to be aware of how quickly he’s losing his control and sanity.
Flirting? Were they flirting, is this flirting? Does Izuku even know how to flirt? Does he know how to flirt?
Shit, I’m so drunk, Bakugou thinks.
His brain was fried, slow and it was almost never slow. But right now, he doesn’t know anything, except that Midoriya’s standing near enough for Bakugou to feel his warmth and that his green eyes were shining, sparkling in a way that had Bakugou's heart leaping into his throat.
Midoriya looks good today. Well, especially good. He's wearing a black button up with the first few buttons popped, revealing muscled, tanned chest that Bakugou promises he doesn't stare at. He's also wearing these pair of jeans that fit his legs perfectly, and there’s a chain hanging around his neck that glints when he moves, and Bakugou’s never seen it before. He’s done a lot of staring at Midoriya’s neck, mostly because he thinks about what it’s like to mark it up.
It must be from a friend, Bakugou assumes, since chains didn’t exactly scream Izuku Midoriya.
Bakugou doesn't fail to notice the flush on his cheeks - a faint pink that spreads itself across his freckles. He watches as the light catches in Midoriya's eyes and the way it falls upon his cheeks. His eyes trail downwards, to where Midoriya had a drink in his hand. His fingers were long, but scarred and strong from too many trainings. Bakugou wonders what it'd feel like to have Midoriya's hand in his.
I want to hold his hand, would he let me hold his hand?
I Wanna Hold Your Hand by The Beatles starts blasting in Bakugou's head like as if he was in some lame, cheesy romantic comedy. This is what it's like to like someone - feeling like your heart is going to burst out your chest and start belting out lyrics to the Billboard's top 50 love songs.
Which sucks, really.
"Why're you staring at me like that?" Midoriya asks, but it's sweet and innocent and he's blinking at Bakugou with this vulnerable curiosity that Bakugou thinks is really, really, really cute.
"I'm not staring! Who's staring?" Bakugou punctuates this last part with a whip of his head around the room, ready to glare at anyone who was even met Midoriya's eyes. On God, he’s losing it. He spots someone from across the room, who meets his piercing gaze and jerks away like he's been pushed, quickly turning his back to the two of them.
Good, Bakugou thinks sourly.
Bakugou turns back to Midoriya, who's chuckling now. His gaze is instantly drawn to Midoriya's lips - the way it curves up into a smile, the softness of his lips, the way Bakugou wants to kiss-
"Why are you laughing?!"
"No, it's just-" Midoriya trails off, shaking his head. "How much did you drink?"
"What - shit, I don't know. Kirishima concocted some witch's brew, that dickhead, and it tasted like fucking ass," He narrows his eyes at Midoriya, who was nodding his head in agreement. He’s always like that – giving his utmost attention to anyone speaking. It was endearing and annoying all at the same time. (That’s exactly how Bakugou would describe most of what Midoriya did.) "Do you know what ass tastes like, Deku?"
This makes Midoriya turn bright red. He jolts in his place like he’s been electrified, and the drink in his hand sloshes around dangerously. Midoriya starts doing the thing - that thing, where his eyes started flickering everywhere around the room and small stutters fly out of his mouth. Bakugou wants to laugh almost snarkily, because Midoriya's gesturing around with shaky hands and every time he meets Bakugou's gaze he snaps his eyes away all too fast.
"Well, I don't really know- I mean. Not to say that I haven't - well, I haven't. But! I don't think that-"
Jesus, did he just admit to being a virgin?
Bakugou thinks Midoriya's annoyingly cute this way. And that feeling builds in his chest and crawls its way up. He can’t believe how much he likes this idiot. The more he thinks about it, the more that feeling grows. He can’t seem to tamp it down, even when his instincts scream and holler at him to do so.
"You're cute. I hate that you're so cute. It's so annoying. Jesus." Bakugou blurts without thinking. He can't think when he's this drunk.
There’s a short silence, but it’s long enough for Bakugou to think: Oh Shit. "Kacchan," Midoriya says slowly, tentatively. His brows start to furrow in the middle and he tilts his head to the side. "You've had too much to drink."
What? "Fuck! Shut up, I’m not saying this shit just cause I’m drunk!" There's a heat that Bakugou feels in his chest and he briefly wonders if he's going to get cardiac arrest. But it's not anything deadly (not exactly, anyways), it was the squeezing of his heart knowing he's going to say something seriously stupid.
But Midoriya looks perfect tonight, and Bakugou can't think straight. All he knows is that he’s so in love with this stupid, stupid boy that nothing else mattered. Sober Bakugou would be disappointed (and largely furious) with how uninhibited he was right now. So, so disappointed. He thinks of what Kirishima said and sober Bakugou would know better than to follow Kirishima’s advice but drunk Bakugou can’t even tell right from left.
"I have to say something. I really - this is so fucking stupid. Fuck how much did I drink? Oh shit. I-" Bakugou stops for a moment because Midoriya reached over and next thing he knows, Midoriya has a hand on his forearm. His skin burns where they make contact, and suddenly that’s all Bakugou can feel. All his senses were flaring and blazing, narrowed down to one single point of contact.
"I should get you back home or - or to a room or something-"
Oh fuck, is he trying to get me alone? In a room? The two of us? Bakugou’s thoughts are running rampant in his head, spreading out like vine to make a big, terrible mess.
Bakugou tugs back at where Midoriya’s yanking on his arm with accidental force, making Midoriya almost crash into him. He steadies the green-haired by grabbing at his shoulders and hauling him into place. Midoriya startles at this, letting out a yelp and gripping onto the drink in his hand like as if it was his lifeline.
"You're gonna listen to me and not fucking interrupt like always, got it?"
Midoriya nods, swallows, and Bakugou traces the way his Adam's apple bobs with his eyes. He pulls Midoriya a step closer without thinking, again.
Now that he's face to face with Midoriya, their noses were brushing and shit, shit, shit, Bakugou could feel Midoriya's breath on his lips and he could count every single freckle on his cheeks and shit -
Katsuki Bakugou never gets scared. Never. So why was he scared now?
Bakugou’s mind blanks. He forgets what he was going to say, or what he was supposed to do because at this proximity, Bakugou can make out every slope and curve on Midoriya’s face. He can list every shade in his eyes and drown in his cologne.
He must have been staring too long. It wasn't his fault. He was just wondering how Midoriya's eyes were such a pretty colour. Inviting, alluring when it's not supposed to be. Some stupid part of Bakugou’s brain concludes that Midoriya was a devil disguised as an angel, personally sent down by God to make his life a torturous, living hell.
Midoriya lets out a small, "uh-" and Bakugou knows he's taken too long. His hands are still on Midoriya’s shoulders, and their faces were still too close. Why wasn’t Midoriya pushing him away? Bakugou's face has gotten way too hot. His vision was starting to swirl a little bit, but he couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that being this close to Midoriya was just too intoxicating.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he sees the way Midoriya's eyes flicker downwards to catch the movement. His heart does something funny - a flip or a dance or something. He has to say something. Now. But he's so fucking scared and he's so fucking drunk and the heat was burning and -
"I uh, I like you," Bakugou says.
He's awake long enough to see the drink fall out of Midoriya's hand, to see the way his eyes widened and his mouth parts in an 'o'. And that's all his awake for.
Then just like that, in the most ungraceful, unromantic way ever, his mind folds on him and he passes out.
--
When he wakes up, his throat feels funny. Everything was too dry and when he ran his tongue behind his teeth he could still taste the bitter remnants of alcohol.
There’s something warm and heavy at his side. Bakugou tries to lift his legs but they’re tangled up with someone else’s. It takes him a good 5 minutes before he realises the heat next to him is, in fact, a human being.
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
Bakugou’s shout is enough to jerk Midoriya awake. Sitting bolt upright, Bakugou stares, mouth agape as Midoriya rubs at his eyes and looks around, disoriented.
Did they – did they have sex? Bakugou blinks. He’s not too awake and much too hungover to realise all his clothes are on, and starts cursing himself silently. Did we fuck and I can’t even remember it?
“What the shit, Deku?!” Bakugou says, volume raised. This seems to wake Midoriya up. He sniffles slightly at the accusing tone but before he can say anything, Bakugou continues, “Why are we – did I, did we-”
"No! No we didn't," Midoriya says hurriedly, sitting up after Bakugou. He has his shirt on, and Bakugou doesn't know if he should feel disappointed or relieved. "I dragged you to bed while you were half-conscious, and you - um. You wouldn't let me go. I planned to get out while you were asleep, I swear but I kind of fell asleep myself…"
"Oh my- fuck, you can't do anything right." That’s what happened? Bakugou brings up his fingers to rub at his temples. There was the feeling of an oncoming headache, the feeling that he's soon to be in the throes of a violent hangover.
"Hey!" Midoriya says, pouting at Bakugou, "I could've left you on the floor, you know?"
Bakugou can't say anything to this. He drags his fingers through his hair and groans. It's only now he allows himself to fully register the situation.
Midoriya wasn't looking him in the eye now, and he was clutching at the sheets almost nervously. When Midoriya thinks Bakugou isn't looking, he sneaks a glance. Bakugou raises a brow at this.
A feeling of dread starts to settle on his shoulders, and he can't shake off the notion that he's done something regretful. He thinks of the way he could remember little to nothing about the night before and the question of why he was with Midoriya when he passed out finally struck him.
"What - did I, did I say something last night?"
Midoriya's biting on his lower lip to keep in a laugh or even a smile, and there’s red that’s spreading itself across his cheeks. But he looks happy, immensely happy, and Bakugou's never seen that look on Midoriya directed towards him before. It makes Bakugou's stomach flip, makes him feel uneasy.
"What is it, nerd?! If I said something you better fucking tell me!"
"Nothing, nothing," Midoriya says, and he's laughing now. Straight in Bakugou's face. Bakugou would punch him, except… he really wouldn't.
He can't believe they're in this mess, or how domestic it is. Midoriya's laughing out loud, carefree across from him on the bed. Their knees were even touching. And Midoriya - well, his hair was a rumpled mess and his shirt was creased, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His lips were now chapped and his eyes were still a little watery from sleep and possibly laughing too much.
“What the fuck?!” Bakugou says once Midoriya has somewhat calmed down, “Why won’t you answer me?”
Before Midoriya can respond, a loud ringtone fills the room. They both look over to where Midoriya’s phone was placed on the nightstand. It was lit up with the contact name ‘Uraraka’ flashing on the screen. Bakugou silently cursed the girl when Midoriya crawled over to pick it up. The call was short and less than a minute, but by the time he hung up, Midoriya started getting up.
“Deku, you can’t just fucking leave-” Bakugou stops short when Midoriya starts to talk. “I’m sorry, Kacchan! But I was supposed to go out with Uraraka today, and I’m really late so-”
Midoriya had scrambled off the bed. He stood at the side, smoothing down his shirt before giving a fuming Bakugou a soft smile. Bakugou’s about to threaten the poor dude when all of a sudden, Midoriya leans forward, placing his palms on the bed for support until they’re face to face.
Before Bakugou can start spewing vulgarities and pushing the other away, Midoriya places a small, fleeting kiss on his cheek. Bakugou feels his mind short-circuit. His heart had gone from resting heartbeat to pounding in a mere second, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. The kiss was short, barely-there, but Bakugou feels it like a burn. What was that for?
When Midoriya pulls away, he’s flushed from head to toe, thumb on his bottom lip looking equal parts nervous and scared. Bakugou stares – was this a dream? Was he still asleep? Maybe this was a hallucination - maybe Bakugou needed help. Maybe he needed Dr Phil.
Bakugou feels his fingers twitch at his sides, but he can’t seem to control the rest of his body. It felt like he had gone into shock. The only thing he could feel was his heart beating hard and fast against his ribs.
Midoriya blinks at him, innocently, like as if he hadn’t just caused Bakugou’s world to tip on its’ axis. “I have to go now, Kacchan. But um – for the record? I like you too.”
Just like that, Midoriya’s passing him another one of his shy smiles and darting out the door, leaving with a “bye!” that Bakugou couldn’t even respond to. Bakugou doesn’t know how long it takes before he finally regains some sort of composure, but when he finally does, he realises there’s his own smile playing at his lips.
Maybe Kirishima did make some sense.