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Todoroki Shouto didn’t know what a crush felt like. When he was growing up, he wasn’t allowed to bother himself with trivial things like pretty girls he passed on the sidewalk, and fleeting glances weren’t really anything to stir up daydreams of a relationship, anyway. He was completely, totally unprepared to come into a high school with an assortment of all kinds of the most gorgeous people he had ever seen, let alone be immediately deemed the most beautiful person in 1-A, whatever the hell Ashido meant by that. Before Yuuei, Shouto had been sure he was going to grow old and pass on just as he had spent the first fifteen years of his life: alone.
Then, the remedial course took place, and he was shoved into a mishmash group with Bakugou, Camie, and Inasa. He wasn’t looking to bond with any of them, just to get his provisional license and catch up with the rest of 1-A, but he quickly found himself enjoying the classes and the hijinks that he and the others would get up to. If he was honest with himself, the remedial course was almost as much about friendship as it was about getting his license, in the end. He didn’t expect to miss the extra work once it was over, but the weekly meetings had felt like a breath of fresh air compared to regular classwork.
He didn’t think anything of it for a few weeks, chalking up the rosy nostalgia to the fact that he felt like he’d genuinely started making friends with Camie, Inasa, and Bakugou. Bakugou may have been extremely stubborn about it, not willing to even consider the fact they might be more than classmates—virtual strangers, but Shouto knew that was just Bakugou’s nature. If he acted like he cared, like he could actually have a good laugh sometimes, it would ruin the image he’d worked so hard for. Shouto, who’d been a similar way until his walls had been uprooted by their foundations during the sports festival, thought Bakugou was being ridiculous, but he knew better than to push it. After all, it’d taken one of their closest friends breaking every single bone in one of his arms to get Shouto to budge at all.
Then, Shouto started daydreaming about the remedial course, about the goofy things he and the others had gotten up to. He felt light, like he could float in the clouds, when he thought about how freeing those few hours a week had been. There, he hadn’t felt like he had the expectation to be perfect; he could just be a part of the group. He didn’t need to be more than he was to be enough, and part of him really missed it.
Maybe that’s why he found himself pulling out his phone during lunch one Tuesday, about a month after the course had concluded, adding Camie, Inasa, and Bakugou to a group chat, and texting them: Hey, we never really celebrated getting our licenses. I figured we could get crepes together on the next mutual free day we have?
Camie immediately responded in a nearly unintelligible string of emojis, but Shouto was pretty sure she was on board. Inasa’s all-caps message came soon after, recommending a bakery that wouldn’t be an excruciating train ride for either pair. Once he was sure Bakugou wouldn’t respond and was back to silently listening to Uraraka and Midoriya’s conversation, his phone buzzed with a third text: Like I would willingly hang out with you losers.
Shouto didn’t have a chance to respond before Camie did: LMFAO as iF. Inasa followed up with: LET US KNOW IF TWO SUNDAYS FROM NOW WORKS FOR YOU.
Shouto looked up through his lashes at Bakugou a few tables over, trying not to get caught spying. When Bakugou checked the messages from their remedial course friends, Shouto could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on his face.
Even though Bakugou had complained for the week and a half leading up to the outing, Shouto was not at all surprised to be waiting for the train with him two Sundays later. He talked big, but Shouto (and Camie and Inasa) knew that it was just that—talk, and, deep down, he really cared for his friends. When they boarded the train, Shouto took a window seat, expecting Bakugou to sit behind him. Instead, Bakugou sat right next to him, muttering something about strangers and leaving room for them, and Shouto couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. Bakugou didn’t say anything else, so Shouto didn’t either, staring out the window and doing his best to ignore that his heart rate was a little too fast for the entire train ride.
The walk to the bakery was short, the air of the city filling Shouto with a new feeling, a blend of excitement and anticipation and nervousness. The buildings were tall, but the wind was soft and smelled like the ramen shop that had its doors open despite the chilly weather. Whether it was because he’d never been there before, or because he was getting to see old friends that he’d really missed, the scenery was clearing the clouds that had been sitting over Shouto’s mind since the remedial course had ended.
“What’ve you got that smile on your face for?” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “We haven’t even seen the other idiots yet.”
Shouto blinked; he hadn’t realized he’d been emoting at all. “Oh.” He shrugged. “Nice to be in a new place.”
Bakugou hummed. “I guess so.”
Silence fell again, then, and Shouto took to gazing around at the people surrounding them. Even though it was only a few hours from Musutafu, this little city felt like a whole new world. There was a constant storm covering Yuuei and the people who attended it. Just over a hundred miles’ separation made Yuuei’s stressors feel light as feathers. For a few hours, he didn’t have to worry about pressure.
“Come on, Princess Half-n-Half, quit daydreaming.” Bakugou was scowling as he opened the door for Shouto. “The others are already inside.”
Camie saw them first, waving to them from a booth in the corner of the restaurant with windows on both sides. “Oh my spirits, finally! Thought Bakubabe was gonna show up in ropes, LOL.” She laughed for added effect; Shouto rolled his eyes.
“Don’t call me that. Why would I let fuckin’ Half-n-Half tie me up to see you extras, anyway?”
Camie gave him a look as if it was obvious. “Because we all know you like us.”
“I do not.” Bakugou grimaced, turning to stalk off. “I’m ordering a coffee so that I can tolerate this.”
Shouto loosely followed, perusing the menu from several steps behind Bakugou. When Bakugou ordered, he spoke in a voice low enough that Shouto couldn’t hear him. Was he…embarrassed by his drink choice? No way; what else could Bakugou order that wasn’t black coffee and incredibly, as Kirishima would say, “manly”?
“Sure, a mocha with an extra pump of chocolate for Bakugou, to go?”
Shouto covered his mouth to hide any emotion as Bakugou shrunk like a rebuked puppy. While he paid, Shouto did his best to make himself look incredibly invested in the menu, not giving any indication that he’d heard the barista repeat Bakugou’s order to him. Bakugou’s pride would be absolutely shot, and, while it would be incredibly funny, Shouto wanted Bakugou to enjoy himself at least the majority of the time they were there. Since he was staring so intensely, he didn’t notice that the barista was beckoning to him until she loudly cleared her throat.
A ceramic mug of tea and a (secretly fancy) to-go cup of coffee later, Shouto and Bakugou rejoined Camie and Inasa. Camie was halfway finished with her drink that looked like it’d been half whipped cream from the beginning, and Inasa was using a paper straw to mix some cream into his drink. Judging by the still-fresh ice, they hadn’t arrived much earlier than Shouto and Bakugou, but Camie hadn’t been able to stop herself from enjoying most of her drink. Surely, the reason why there was any left at all was because she’d given herself a brain freeze.
Shouto slid into the booth first, next to the window so that he could people-watch, across from Camie. When Bakugou slid in next to him, their knees knocked together, and Shouto pretended to be distracted by something outside so that he could turn away from Bakugou while he made himself comfortable. His cheeks felt hot, for some reason, and he busied himself with blowing on his tea to cool it before he took a sip. Maybe the others would think the pink on his face was from the steam, if there was any in the first place.
The group fell into an easy conversation, Inasa and Camie doing most of the talking. Being with them, Shouto realized he’d missed their hangouts even more than he’d thought he did. His classmates were nice, sure, but there was just something different about this dynamic that was simply missing from the other students at Yuuei. He thought back to the crisp air outside, the light feeling that had settled over him; there was no pressure with these people.
Shouto’s phone vibrated in his pocket, bringing him back into the present moment. He blinked at the onslaught of emojis, taking a moment before he processed Camie’s text, s0 mr prince todoroki,,,, have u told bakubabe u like him yet?
Shouto raised his eyebrow at the screen as he replied, what?
Her reply was almost instantaneous, as if she’d had the message typed out already, 0h pls todoprince every1 knows how u feel… except blastybabe ofc
I’m not sure I’m following.
u’ve got a big ol’ crush on bakugou!!!! The emojis following would have hurt Shouto’s eyes if he hadn’t gotten used to Camie’s texting style over the past several weeks. its the most obvious thing in the whole world!!!
He stared at the message for a long moment, considering. Of course, he and Bakugou were friends, but would he ever think of him as more than that? The idea didn’t immediately disgust him, which should have worried him more than it did. Ultimately, he decided on the reply: what makes you say that?
Camie came prepared with more receipts than Shouto would have thought possible. After her first claim, Shouto became totally absorbed in his phone, analyzing his own old messages and past actions. Camie’s argument was incredibly strong, he couldn’t deny that; if they were talking about strangers, he would have been on her side. This, however, was about himself. Did he…really like Bakugou that way?
“Oi! Barbie and Halfie, we’re trying to have a fucking conversation here! If you could stop texting each other, Baldy and I would really appreciate it.”
Shouto felt a sheepish grin cross his lips and did his best to ignore the heat crawling up his neck. “Sorry.”
Camie, ever defiant, retorted, “What if we were having a conversation that we didn’t want you to be a part of?”
“Whatever.” Bakugou scoffed. “What would you want to talk about without us, anyway? We’re all here to hang out, right?”
A sinister grin appeared on Camie’s face. “Or maybe you’re just jealous because Prince Todoroki would rather talk to me than you.”
Shouto’s eyes widened. First, she claimed that Shouto had a crush on Bakugou, then said that Bakugou would be jealous of who Shouto was talking to? What kind of game was she playing here?
To even more of Shouto’s surprise, Bakugou sank into himself slightly, a tell he was embarrassed. “It’s not that; we just went through the trouble of all meeting up, so I figured…”
When he trailed off, Inasa picked up, “Yeah! This is about being a squad again! A squad of best friends that chat together!”
“Inasa,” Camie whined the final syllable of his name, “I told you, it’s besties. We’re besties.”
“Right.” Inasa nodded solemnly, like the word choice was life-or-death. He shouted, standing slightly, “A squad of besties!” When he was shushed, he sat back down, apologizing in a much quieter voice, “Sorry everyone!”
“Besties,” Shouto repeated.
Camie nodded, agreeing, “Besties.”
Bakugou, back to not surprising Shouto at all, rolled his eyes. “There’s no fucking way I’m agreeing to that.”
“Yes, you are.” Camie’s tone went from sweet to serious. “We’re besties, Bakubabe, deal with it.”
“Besties!” Inasa repeated, slamming his hands on the table with minimal force.
Bakugou looked at Shouto, and Shouto could tell that Bakugou wanted an out. He shook his head. “You wanted us all in this conversation; it’s not happening until you agree.” He bit back a smirk. “This is your fault.”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms to sulk. “We’re besties.”
Camie and Inasa shared an incredible high five before they each gave Shouto a fist bump (soft, like he preferred). They tried to get Bakugou in on it as well, but he refused. Eventually, they gave up with a pair of shrugs and launched into a new story, all four friends—besties—paying rapt attention.
The rest of the outing, Shouto didn’t check his phone, so he was surprised to see another message from Camie as he and Bakugou were leaving for the train. Nearly lost among a sea of emojis read: i rly think u should go 4 it. bakubabe deffo likes u back.
Shouto was spending an evening studying math with Midoriya when he told his textbook, “I have a crush on Bakugou.”
Midoriya balked so hard that he choked, sitting up fully and fanning his face. When he caught his breath, he asked, “What?”
Shouto repeated himself, “I have a c—”
“No, no, no,” Midoriya stopped him, “I heard you the first time. Please don’t say it again.” He paused, took a deep breath. “What leads you to believe this?”
“Camie.” He pulled up the messages from what was suddenly a few weeks ago, the ones that detailed the crush that Shouto had lacked noticing.
Midoriya spent all of thirty seconds scanning the messages before he looked up. “Yeah, you’re, like, super into him. Did you really not know?” When Shouto’s eyes widened, Midoriya continued, “Todoroki-kun, no offense, but you call the guy your friend when he openly can’t fucking stand you. That’s crush behavior.”
Shouto swallowed; his mouth was suddenly dry. “But we are friends.”
“I know.” Midoriya laughed, genuine, but Shouto didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness. “But Kacchan doesn’t like people knowing he has friends. Look at him and I.” He rolled his eyes. “Kacchan and I are friends; he’s just an asshole.”
“Then what’s the problem with me saying Bakugou and I are friends?”
“Nothing, nothing!” Midoriya’s hands were up in surrender, blocking himself from Shouto’s concerned gaze. “Just…most people would be deterred by his actions, but you aren’t. You’re…incredibly persistent.”
“Persistent?”
“Yeah. You know you’re friends, and you have no problem saying it even if Kacchan refuses to.”
Shouto nodded.
“That’s crush behavior, Todoroki-kun.”
“It is?”
Midoriya hummed in the affirmative. “Would you be so insistent that we were friends if, for whatever reason, I said we weren’t friends? Or if Uraraka-san said that you weren’t friends?”
Shouto took a moment to think. “I’d probably ask you why you didn’t consider us friends and see if there was a way to fix that, if I said anything at all.”
Midoriya looked at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows for a long moment, as if he was expecting Shouto to realize something.
“What?”
“Have you ever considered asking Kacchan why he tells people that you aren’t friends?”
“No, because I know we’re friends. That’s how I feel, so I know it.”
Midoriya huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean. Think about it.”
Silence stretched for a moment before, “Oh.”
“Oh,” Midoriya agreed before bursting into laughter.
Come January and a whirlwind internship at his father’s agency, Shouto found himself eating dinner at his childhood home with his family, his best friend, and his crush. He still felt strange admitting the feelings to himself, but calling it what it was, even exclusively to himself, made it easier to accept. When Shouto had asked Bakugou and Midoriya to intern with him, he hadn’t expected for the bond he felt for his friends to grow even stronger, but he felt his heart squeeze at the thought of where he’d been a year before, before Yuuei, thinking he’d be alone for the rest of his life. In a matter of a few short months, he’d created so many amazing friendships, and he could actually see himself being happy into adulthood.
A few days after he, Bakugou, and Midoriya had returned to Yuuei, he received a call from Fuyumi. She was calling to make sure everyone had returned to the campus safe, which warmed Shouto’s heart. In moments like this, Shouto found himself wishing that he’d gotten to grow up properly with Fuyumi and Natsuo. Maybe one day, once they were all adults and in charge of their own time, he’d get to forge those relationships with them that he’d always longed for.
“So, Shouto, tell me about your friendship with Midoriya-san and Bakugou-san. They’re both very…interesting.”
Shouto huffed a laugh. “Yeah. They are. They’re my best friends.”
“They seem to be. Midoriya-san seems to be the person you go to for everything and anything, right?”
“He is.”
“And Bakugou-san. He’s…” Fuyumi paused for a long beat. Just as Shouto opened his mouth to fill the gap, she supplied, “He’s your boyfriend, right?”
Shouto choked.
“I’m sorry for assuming!” Fuyumi sputtered, doing her best to backtrack. “That was completely uncalled for.”
“No, I… Uh, it’s…” Shouto floundered, looking for some sort of explanation that wouldn’t cause him to confess.
“It’s just, the way you look at each other.” Fuyumi’s voice, though still carrying a tinge of panic, was wistful as she seemed to recall a memory from the dinner. “It’s just obvious the way you care about each other is…not necessarily platonic.”
“Really?” Shouto crossed his fingers that he didn’t sound too hopeful.
“I mean, unless I was reading it wrong, the two of you seem like you’re on a different wavelength with each other. Uh, not that you and Midoriya-san aren’t clearly close!” She took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. “I feel like I’m digging myself into a hole here.”
While she laughed, clearly nervous, Shouto assured her, “No, it’s fine. I just didn’t realize that Bakugou…”
“So you do like him!” Fuyumi gasped, and Shouto could easily imagine her bouncing on the balls of her feet at the news. “I thought I saw some sneaky glances between the two of you!”
“But, Bakugou—”
“No, no, don’t do that ‘I don’t deserve that, so it’s not true’ sort of thing I know you’re about to do. That’s not fair to you or to Bakugou-san.” Fuyumi paused while Shouto desperately searched for a way to deflect her incredibly correct statement. “I think you should tell him.”
Defeated, Shouto heard himself ask, “How?”
“Well, Valentine’s Day is coming up, isn’t it?”
Midoriya was the obvious choice to take shopping for chocolates, but, apparently, he’d never been to a gourmet chocolatier before. His eyes were absolutely huge as Shouto perused the shelves, trying to decide on the perfect truffles for Bakugou.
“Is this really necessary?” Midoriya asked in a hushed voice.
“Of course,” Shouto replied in his normal tone. “This is Bakugou we’re talking about.”
“Exactly.”
Shouto raised an eyebrow in question, but Midoriya just rolled his eyes, refusing to protest further. With the help of a clerk, they decided on an assortment of fillings: raspberry, caramel, chocolate mousse, and a few chocolate-covered cherries. Shouto picked out matte foils, half red and half white. When the clerk said the price out loud, Midoriya’s face went white, and Shouto fought the urge to laugh. Why not force his old man to pay for his youngest son’s frivolous Valentine’s Day purchase?
“Could you add a pair of peppermint truffles? There’s no need to wrap them.”
Midoriya squeaked.
“Of course, sir.”
After Shouto had his bag of perfectly-wrapped chocolates, he handed one of the peppermint truffles to Midoriya. “For your troubles.”
Midoriya flushed but took the chocolate; he’d finally learned not to refuse. “I… It was my pleasure.”
“Please, I’ve never seen you look so uncomfortable, and you’re uncomfortable pretty much all the time.”
Midoriya’s face darkened to a bright, rose red. “I am not.”
“Sure.”
Instead of responding, Midoriya bit into the truffle. His pupils blew wide at the taste. “Holy spirits, this is incredible!”
Hopefully, Bakugou would have a similar reaction.
Shouto couldn’t recall having ever been as nervous as he was the morning of Valentine’s Day. The black velvet bag of truffles had stared at him for nearly an entire week, and he was mostly just ready to forget about it. Of course, just forgetting that he’d finally confessed to his crush after several months was not going to be an easy feat, but, at least it wouldn’t be staring him in the face anymore. Then, it’d be in Bakugou’s hands (literally) to decide what to do with.
Shouto and Midoriya had crafted a plan to get Shouto’s chocolates onto Bakugou’s desk without their classmates realizing. Before Bakugou arrived, Shouto was conversing with Midoriya, talking to him about the chocolate they’d received thus far. They were talking in hushed voices, seemingly comparing the obligation chocolates they’d received from the girls. Then, when he was confident no one was looking, Shouto quickly placed his confession chocolates next to the various other truffles already sitting on Bakugou’s desk.
“Okay, but what’s that one?” Shouto asked, pointing at a bright red bag of All Might-themed treats Midoriya had that didn’t match anything Shouto had.
“Oh, this? Uh, lemme see…” Midoriya opened the attached card, eyes darting over the message. From what Shouto could see over Midoriya’s shoulder, it was longer than a typical obligation. Midoriya flushed a deep red, closing the card and squeaking, “Oh, u-um, it’s nothing! We can, um, maybe talk about it later.”
Midoriya had gotten confession chocolate? From whom?
Returning to his desk, Shouto forgot all about his anxieties about his own confession, mind whirring over who could have possibly given Midoriya chocolates. He didn’t blame whoever it was, of course; Midoriya was wonderful, considerate, and incredibly intelligent. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure who else spent enough time with Midoriya that they’d developed feelings like that for him. Judging by his reaction, Midoriya was either very happy about the confession or very, very embarrassed. Hatsume was definitely an option, or maybe Uraraka? Uraraka, however, had complained to Shouto just the other week that she was stressed about confessing her feelings to one of the other girls, so it probably wasn’t her. Hatsume didn’t seem the type to confess through chocolates and a letter, either, so who—
“Bakugou, have you never eaten a chocolate-covered cherry before?” Ashido’s laughter pulled Shouto out of his thoughts to see Bakugou eating a chocolate—one of Shouto’s truffles, liquid cherry filling running down his chin and one of the happiest expressions he’d ever seen.
“Shut the fuck up, Raccoon Eyes. You’d understand if you tasted these.”
“Oh yeah? Well, give me one.”
“Hell no.”
Success. Now, all he had to worry about was White Day.
It took almost two days for Shouto to find out who’d confessed to Midoriya. Honestly, it felt like a record. Midoriya typically told Shouto things as soon as they happened, so the two days he’d waited had felt excruciating.
“So,” Shouto began, closing his notebook to show Midoriya that he was done studying for the moment, “how is it not killing you to tell someone who confessed to you yet?”
Midoriya looked up, eyes wide. His gaze flickered to Shouto’s closed notes before meeting his eyes again. Deflating, he relented, “It is killing me. I want to talk about it so much, but I don’t want to overstep. I don’t know if he wants others to know.”
He? “Well, what are you going to say on White Day?”
“Oh, spirits, I’m going to tell him yes so many times I just might die.” Midoriya’s cheeks were tinged a soft pink; he was serious.
“Then, after White Day, isn’t everyone going to know? You’re going to give him flowers, right?”
Midoriya’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I…hadn’t thought about that. Of course, I’ll give him flowers, so you’ll know sooner or later who it was.” Shouto nodded, eyebrows raised expectantly. Covering his face, hiding his eyes, Midoriya finally told him, “It was Kirishima-kun.”
“Kirishima confessed to you?”
Midoriya nodded so fast that his curls hid his very red face.
“What did he say?”
“That he thinks I’m really strong, has since before he met me, and that I’m very, uh…” He paused to squeak in embarrassment. “He thinks I’m very manly, but also very kind, and he…” Midoriya sighed, gathered himself. “He said he’d liked me since we rescued Kacchan because he’s never felt as powerful as I made him feel.”
“Wow.”
“I know. He said he wants to make me feel that way all the time.” He flopped backwards on his bed. “White Day cannot come fast enough.”
Bakugou Katsuki fucking hated Valentine’s Day and White Day. They were a stupid pair of fake holidays used to embarrass people and force them into awkward situations. When Shitty Hair had forced him to help him pick out chocolates for stupid Deku, Katsuki could have thrown up. Why couldn’t he just go up to Deku and tell him to his face?
What Katsuki hadn’t expected, however, was to receive confession chocolates of his own.
Sure, there were always going to be a few girls in other classes that thought he was strong or whatever, that he’d have to reject in a month. He was used to that; it was part of the reason he hated White Day so much. If it wasn’t so looked down upon, he’d just ignore the confessions altogether. His friends told him that was rude, that the girls had gone through effort, that they at least deserved an answer. Whatever.
He had plans for how to reject the three girls from the general studies course, and the one from the support course that’d helped repair his gauntlets that one time. While those would be easy enough, there was one that he genuinely wasn’t sure how to reject because whoever it was hadn’t given him the option. The truffles had been the most delicious little chocolates he’d ever had—enough that he’d tried to savour them but couldn’t help but finish the entire bag in a few days. They’d come in a little velvet bag, so Katsuki knew they’d been expensive, so the confessor was either very serious or very frivolous—or both.
The only problem, however: The confessor hadn’t left a note.
Katsuki did his best not to worry about the mystery confession; maybe the confessor had gotten too nervous to actually come out about their feelings but wanted to give the chocolates anyway? He couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t think there was any way to find out. After all, he couldn’t find out the confessor’s identity unless he asked publicly, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be doing that. Between nights of endless homework and having to listen to Shitty Hair whine about Deku and Raccoon Eyes whine about Round Face, the anonymous truffles were completely pushed out of Katsuki’s mind.
White Day came, and it was even worse than Katsuki had even fucking imagined. Raccoon Eyes had gotten the biggest bouquet of red roses Katsuki had ever seen for Round Face, and he thought that was incredibly over-the-top. Then, when he arrived at 1-A, he walked in on the middle of stupid Deku’s confession to Shitty Hair over an even bigger bouquet of white and pink carnations. Shitty Hair was a blushing mess all the way to lunch, and Katsuki wanted nothing more than to just fucking go home. In the cafeteria, he made his rejections as quick and painless as possible, and the four girls (thankfully) took them well. He debated just leaving before afternoon classes so he wouldn’t have to sit through any more puppy love torture, but his student record prevented him from ditching.
The only other person that seemed as bothered as Katsuki—if not more—was Half-n-Half. His usually stoic exterior was just plain cold, and Katsuki reveled in the shared sentiment. From where he sat in the cafeteria, he saw Halfie reject a few girls he didn’t recognize, and, while the rejections were civil, they still seemed a little…icy. Due to the guy’s past, Katsuki was sure Half-n-Half hadn’t had the displeasure of rejecting anyone before, so he might not know the proper etiquette.
While Katsuki found himself wishing he’d had the privilege of never rejecting anyone on White Day, he felt strangely happy that Half-n-Half seemed to be only delivering rejections and not a single acceptance. Feelings were tough to wrestle with, especially romantic ones, but Katsuki had known he didn’t only feel platonic towards that bastard since well before the remedial licensing course. When they had been the only two to not receive their licenses at Yuuei, Katsuki knew he was doomed. The feelings he’d known he had but ignored had blossomed into a real crush, and that scared him, especially because there was no way Half-n-Half didn’t think Katsuki hated him.
Then, even fucking worse, after the course, Half-n-Half refused to refer to them as anything other than friends, no matter how hard Katsuki tried to deter him. Every time that fucking word left Half-n-Half’s mouth, Katsuki’s stomach would lurch, and he hated it so much he could puke. He didn’t want to be friends; he wanted to be enemies because being enemies was so much easier than knowing his crush only thought of him as a friend. While he’d never admit his stupid crush to anyone, not in a million years, he silently let himself have a moment of glee knowing that no one was getting Half-n-Half’s heart this year. It didn’t matter if the bastard would never like Katsuki back; all that mattered was that he didn’t like anyone else instead.
Three days after White Day, however, Half-n-Half still hadn’t returned to his regular self. He was unusually cold to everyone except stupid fucking Deku, who was immune to anyone’s bad moods, apparently. Katsuki took the silent treatment as a blessing. For the first time since the remedial licensing course, that bastard wasn’t trying to talk to him or walk with him to Height’s Alliance, insisting they were friends. Instead, he was acting like he had before the sports festival, completely silent and stone-faced, sparing most of 1-A nothing more than a glance. Round Face asked him about it after class, but he blew her off with a shrug. Shitty Hair was walking back with stupid Deku, so Katsuki left alone.
He tried not to let it bother him, but he couldn’t get Half-n-Half’s biting stare out of his mind. Even while he was doing homework (alone, fuck you too, Shitty Hair), his mind kept drifting to that bastard. Hell, he hadn’t thought about the guy this much since the damned sports festival. He got up to get a breath of air, to look at something else, and he didn’t register where he was going until he was knocking on stupid fucking Deku’s door.
“K-Kacchan!” the idiot answered, face red as if he’d been caught in the middle of—
“Were you two making out? Already?” Katsuki deadpanned at Shitty Hair over Deku’s shoulder; Shitty Hair wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“U-um, we were, I…”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Okay!” Deku’s voice was too high, too loud; Katsuki cringed. “Is there anything we can help you with? I assume you wanted—”
Shitty Hair cut Deku off before he lost himself in rambling, crossing the room as he asked, “Did you wanna do homework together? I can come back to Midoriya’s later.”
“No. I wanna know what’s up with Halfie.”
Deku stilled and paled, which told Katsuki that Deku knew exactly what was wrong. “Um, do you not, uh, know already?”
“Why would I know? I’m not the guy’s fucking babysitter.”
“Right, I know that, but…” He turned around to Shitty Hair for help, who gulped and ran a nervous hand through his hair before he spoke.
“Well, his whole, uh, demeanor is because of you.”
“Because of me?” Katsuki repeated, fighting to keep his voice down. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
Deku and Shitty Hair shared a look.
“I mean, even if you don’t like the guy back, it still would have been decent of you to give him a rejection.”
Katsuki balked. “What the fuck are you even talking about? Deku, if you don’t make your stupid boyfriend’s words make sense in the next five seconds, I’m blowing you both out the window.”
“H-hey, no reason to be hasty.” Deku’s hands were up in surrender; Katsuki tried not to look at the scars there that proved how much he cared for his friends. “Y’know… Todoroki-kun… On Valentine’s Day… Didn’t he give you something?”
Katsuki’s brain was starting to hurt. “No? Why would he have?”
Deku and Shitty Hair shared another look, but this one was much less anxious and much more confused.
“What do you mean he didn’t give you anything?” Deku had taken his hands back to wring them, a habit he’d had since they were little.
“I mean what I fucking said?” The statement sounded more like a question. “I didn’t get anything from Half-n-Half on Valentine’s Day.”
Deku shook his head. “That’s not right.” After a pause, he asked, “Can you recount everything you got on Valentine’s Day, maybe?”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes, but complied, “Obligation chocolates from all the girls in 1-A, I think, maybe a few more? I don’t remember half their names.”
“It’s almost been a full year, Kacchan.”
“Shut up. I got confession chocolates from three girls in the general course, and one from a girl in the business course, and I think that’s it.”
“Nothing else?”
“Oh, yeah, uh, this bag of really fucking expensive chocolates. They were fucking fantastic, but I have no idea who they were from.”
Shitty Hair’s eyes were huge. “No idea?”
“No. There wasn’t a note.”
Deku wringed his hands harder, if that was even possible. “There…wasn’t?”
“No.” Katsuki paused, mulling over their words before. “Wait, are you saying they were from fucking Half-n-Half?”
Another look. Katsuki was tired of this relationship already.
“Uh,” Shitty Hair started, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s exactly what we’re saying.”
Katsuki turned, stomping down the hallway, grumbling to himself.
“W-where are you going?” Deku called after him.
“To get some roses for your stupid friend, where the fuck do you think?”
“Half-n-Half, open up!” Katsuki hoped his voice was audible over his banging on the door. The fucking flowers were gonna smell like nitroglycerin if this bastard didn’t answer soon. “I know you’re in there!”
The door opened, but only slightly. “What do you want, Bakugou?”
“To give you these.” He brandished the bouquet, acting like the nitroglycerin smell wasn’t extremely potent. He was so nervous.
Halfie’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. “Why?”
“To thank you for the chocolates your stupid ass forgot to put a note on, and to accept your confession.”
He blinked, slowly. “What?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Your chocolates. The really fucking nice ones? You forgot to put a note on them, so I had to find out from stupid Deku and Shitty Hair that you were the one that gave them to me.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. How could you forget a message? I could tell that you put effort into the gift.”
“I guess I just…didn’t think about it.”
“Then how was I supposed to know they were from you, you moron?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“So are you gonna take these or not?”
Half-n-Half looked back at the roses, as if he was seeing them for the first time. “Oh, yeah.”
He took the flowers and turned, walking into his dorm room. Taking that as an invitation, Katsuki followed. Halfie floundered for a moment, looking for a place to put the flowers. He eventually settled on a tall glass that was definitely meant for drinking.
“I’ll get a vase for these later,” he said, clearly more to himself.
“We could go together,” Katsuki offered, trying to subtly wipe his palms on his jeans.
“Why would we?”
He shrugged. “I know it’s not really a date, but I figured we should start doing stuff together, right?”
Half-n-Half blinked at him, said nothing.
“Do you not want to? I don’t really know how the whole dating thing goes.”
“Dating? So that means...?”
“Yeah, you idiot. Why the fuck else would I have brought you flowers and mentioned your confession chocolate?”
The whole thing seemed to finally dawn on Half-n-Half, as the white half of his fringe was suddenly covered in frost. “Oh.”
Katsuki fought the urge to roll his eyes again. “Yeah, oh.” He hoped saying that didn’t become a regular occurrence. “So, do you want to buy a vase together or not?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, I think that would be nice.”
Hours later, Katsuki would find that he really enjoyed holding Halfie’s right hand—it was almost impossible to sweat when the guy was constantly cooling him down.