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Weekends in the dorms are usually filled to the brim with unusual things and awkward situations, as per the route of living with a class as diverse and strange as Izuku’s own class 1-A. And this weekend should be no different, except that it will be.
A decision was made within the week, after Izuku stressed himself beyond belief and nobody could pry a word out of him until Kacchan finally rubbed his back and told him it’s okay to stim. Which was kind of him, but wholeheartedly embarrassing that it took crying in front of their class and biting on his lip until it bled for it to happen. So, the class made an agreement.
To avoid situations like that happening again, everybody made a pact to “unmask” in a way. If someone needed to stim, they would. If someone needed to leave a room for any reason, they would. If anyone couldn’t stand a noise, with negotiation, it would stop. Which worked, during school, and after, and Izuku was pretty happy with the outcome of the whole thing.
It wasn’t even just for autism either, Sero (of whom Izuku had no idea was even psychotic) offered that anyone else with any disability, or neurodivergency should be able to do what they need to do without judgement. Like Sero needing to be able to ask if a hallucination he’s seeing is real, or everybody needing to be patient if his speech gets all jumbled.
It was nice! Really nice! The whole class was really coming together to make everyone comfortable! Even Mineta was helping out in ways. (His weird grape hair apparently made for a good stim toy!)
Weirdly enough, despite the two of them being violently autistic, Kacchan and Iida had really nothing to provide to this. They helped Sero where they could, obviously helped Izuku when he had his whole breakdown, but other than that, their behaviour barely changed.
Izuku knew that Kacchan masked very heavily. Excessively so. To a frightening point where Izuku would genuinely question if he’d found a cure, or something. Iida didn’t mask, not quite. But he was never outward about anything. Izuku never saw him stim, never heard him gush about a special interest (unless you count his brother, but can that really count?), and overall, hadn’t really made any notion to embrace any of it.
Izuku didn’t mind? Or, at least he didn’t think he did. So, he expected that to be the same over the weekend, and for the rest of forever. How wrong he was.
-
He sat on the sofa, swaddled in Eijirou’s Crimson Riot hoodie that he’d lent him and rolling the fabric of the sleeve between his pointer and thumb. Ochako sat next to him, leaning her whole body against his as she scribbled something into a small diary she held in her lap. It was a calm day, nice and smooth. No sign of danger yet.
Iida swings open the doors, though, charging in with his usual measured steps, drink bottle in one hand and a small towel draped around his neck. He pauses when he notices the two on the sofa, smiling at them brightly before continuing to the kitchen without a word.
Is the measured walking an autism thing? Maybe it is, or maybe Iida’s just like that.
He doesn’t quite know why he’s concerned about it, so he ignores it and goes back to fiddling with the hoodie sleeve.
Not even 30 seconds later, Kacchan comes bursting through the door, puffed and flushed like he’d just been on a run. Given the sports gear, Izuku assumes he had. He presses a hand against the door for stability once it’s closed, his breaths coming ragged and sounding painful as he hunches over.
“Fuck you, Glasses!” He shouts. “That wasn’t fair, you had to have used your quirk!”
“I most certainly did not.” Iida calls from the kitchen, followed by the sound of rattling plates. “Do you still want pie?”
So Iida and Kacchan were racing? Not unlike Kacchan to go looking for competition, but izuku would’ve thought their interaction would’ve ended at the finish line. Why is Iida offering him the pie he made yesterday with Yaomomo?
Kacchan huffs, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Eat shit and die!”
Classic Kacchan. Retaliating to kindness with insults. Not unusual. What is unusual, is Iida’s chuckling in response.
“A foul mistake.” He says, and then there’s more rattling before Iida sticks his head through the doorway to smirk at Kacchan. “Eat shit and live.”
Yeah, that’s out of nowhere. Iida never tolerates Kacchan’s insults. Never tolerates his behaviour. The worst he’s ever done has ignored it, but now he’s returning it? And returning it well. That comeback was smooth!
He wanders further back into the kitchen, and Izuku and Ochako both slowly turn their heads to see Kacchan’s probably fuming reaction, only to be met with his signature cocky smile. He scoffs at the insult like it’s something ridiculous to come back with.
“Whatever. You blow dead dogs, anyway.” Kacchan smirks. He straightens out, stretching his back, before wandering over to lean on the kitchen door frame. “I want some of that pie, by the way.”
It’s baffling. Purely baffling. Kacchan and Iida are interacting. More than that, they’re bantering. More than that, they’re insulting each other, for banter. Izuku can’t tell which is worse, Iida swearing and insulting Kacchan, or Kacchan not exploding in retaliation.
Iida hands him a plate with a slice of pie, saying nothing but smiling, and Kacchan snatches the plate out of his hand with a smirk and leaves for his own room without a word.
Iida grabs his own plate, and heads for his own room. Ignorant to the bamboozled looks on both Izuku and Ochako’s faces. Ochako turns to him, then, as if to confirm what she saw wasn’t some bizarre hallucination. Izuku looks back her, and for a moment, neither say anything, until the two both burst into fits of giggles at the whole thing.
How weird, he thinks once he calms down, must be the rush of a morning run. Surely that won’t happen again.
-
It happens again. That very evening. Everyone’s in the dorms, mingling and talking as the day finally winds down.
Sero and Shouto are wrapped around each other, as per usual. Eijirou is asleep on Izuku’s shoulder, hands still holding onto his arm even in his slumber, meanwhile Uraraka leans on his other shoulder, still writing away in that journal. The rest of his class is scattered about the common room.
Iida and Kacchan, however, sit particularly close. Not close enough that it really draws anyone’s attention but Izuku’s, but still enough that Izuku sees it. They’re on the other couch, Iida with his book in his lap, reading quietly, and Kacchan with his iPad, drawing away with the pencil it came with.
They’re mere inches apart, and then it hits Izuku. Kacchan masks all the time. But Izuku’s been his friend long enough to just know certain things. For example, his comfort outfits. The stuff he wears when he’s totally comfortable, perfectly unmasked. It’s nothing flashy, just some worn hoodie his dad bought him, and a pair of shorts. But he’s wearing it now. Right now. And Izuku hasn’t seen him in it since middle school. And he’s wearing it right, right now!
Iida’s head perks up before Izuku can think any further. He’s not looking at anything in particular, just staring off into nothing. And then he says it.
“She’s a real carpenter’s dream,” he mumbles. It’s quiet, nearly inaudible, before promptly dropping his head back down. Kacchan snorts a huff of laughter from beside him.
“Flat as a board, and needs a screw.” He mutters along, as if finishing Iida’s sentence, and what? What the hell does that mean?
The two snicker to themselves, saying nothing more and returning to their own activities. Izuku gapes at them, wondering how on earth these two already have inside jokes after one race together! They’re finishing sentences! They’re sitting in proximity and laughing at jokes only they understand!
It irks Izuku! To no end! He spent 14 years trying to be Kacchan’s friend, and it took him so long to get to here! Meanwhile, Iida just decides to waltz in, challenge Kacchan to a race, and that’s it? They’re suddenly friends? It’s offensive. Downright wrong.
No one else catches the interaction, too busy talking amongst themselves and focusing on their own things. Nobody would ever believe Izuku if he told them what he saw. They all see how Kacchan and Iida interact in class. Just his luck, he guesses.
Oh, well. Maybe it’s a one time thing. Something they just have but won’t happen again. Yeah! Kacchan’s not really the Iida Tenya type, you know? It won’t happen again.
-
IT HAPPENS THE NEXT MORNING.
Izuku wakes up pretty early, before Eijirou, and snags his favourite tank top off of Ei’s drawers and heads downstairs. He’s about to walk into the kitchen and make himself some breakfast, but stops just short of the open door, hiding behind the frame and peeking inside when he notices Kacchan and Iida are alone in there. Together.
Iida’s laughing at something Kacchan said before Izuku got there, his shoulders shaking as he’s leaning over the stovetop. Kacchan’s stood to the side of him, body facing the door and leaning back against the counter, smiling away with that smug face. Whatever they’re cooking smells really good.
“That’s not funny.” Iida tells him, despite still struggling though laughter as he says it.
“Oh, but it is.” Kacchan replies, shifting closer to Iida’s side. “That’s what always happens. Every movie. The husband stands there, holding his feral, possessed child on a leash as it crawls up the walls and spews green goo and says ‘no, honey, our little Lucifer is doing just fine,’ and gets away with it.”
“And then the mother is told she’s losing her mind every time she saves the children from near death.” Iida sighs, shrugging. “Like in Orphan. Kate was manipulated and tormented for the entire film.”
“Fair play to her, she did want to take a child to a therapist for saying Fuck.” Kacchan smiles, shifting even closer, leaning his cheek on Iida’s shoulder, almost like nuzzling into him.
What is happening? Have I died? In what world would this all be possible? Izuku’s mind races as he grapples with the scene in front of him. They’re cooking together. Kacchan resting his face on Iida’s shoulder. They’re bonding over movies together.
“Ah, yes, that classic scene.” Iida clears his throat. And then, in one of the clearest Russian accents Izuku’s ever heard, he says, “I know, they fuck.”
Kacchan barks out a loud laugh, doubling over as he does. Iida bows his head as he chuckles, himself, and the two struggle to stand up-right as they continue their laughter.
“That’s reminds- Reminds me of that scene—“ Kacchan wheezes, standing up properly and leaning back against the counter. “That scene in fuckin’— In Scream? Where Stu points a gun at Sidney and just yells ‘boogah’!” He gestures his hands like shooting a gun as he says it, which causes the both of them to double over in a second bout of laughter.
Izuku feels like a pervert. An intruder. Like he’s walked in on something special. An intimate moment at the beginning of the day, before the rest of the world rises. He’s watching Kacchan and Iida, watching how they talk and how they laugh when no one else is there, and he feels like he’s stepped into their space.
He backs away from their doorway, quiet as a mouse, before scampering back to Eijirou’s room to pretend like he’d never left it at all.
He wonders about that moment, as he crawls back into bed next to Ei. How Kacchan leaned on Iida and how Iida made him laugh. They way Kacchan almost gushed about something. Izuku’s known Kacchan for a long time, and has never seen him laugh like that. So genuinely, so happily, and not at someone’s expense. It felt…It looked so special. Something just for them.
He tries not to think about it, and wills himself back to sleep.
-
Izuku wakes again at about noon, as per Eijirou’s word when he opens his eyes and finds the redhead leant over him, running his thumb over Izuku’s cheek.
“You slept unusually long, what kept you up?” Ei asks as Izuku sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
His brain supplies the warm image of Iida, leant over the stove with Kacchan laughing at his side, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Izuku shakes it away.
“Nothin’. I was just tired.”
-
Eijirou walks with him downstairs, leaving him on the sofa next to Kacchan while he heads to the kitchen to make him some breakfast. And Izuku can’t help it, he gives Kacchan a side-long glance, noticing the way he’s wearing his comfort outfit, legs tucked underneath him and hunched over his iPad.
Izuku briefly remembers the image of those “iPad kids” Kaminari had laughed about, and he tries not to laugh at the similarities between them and Kacchan.
“Stop staring at me.” Kacchan says abruptly. Izuku squeaks as he snaps his head to look straightforward. “The fuck’s wrong with you today?”
“I just— I’ve noticed that you— Well, you seem to-“ Izuku sputters, hands gesticulating wildly as he tries to collect his thoughts. Kacchan looks him over, before sighing.
“I thought your unmasking thing wasn’t a shit idea.” He stops him, not looking at Izuku’s face. “Tenya told me it’d be good, so. Whatever.”
‘Tenya’ said. Iida said it’d be a good idea. And Kacchan…listened to Iida. Tenya. He called him Tenya.
What on earth has he missed in the last 24 hours? Was he in a coma or something? How could this have happened right under his nose! Not only are Kacchan and Iida friends, they’re friends enough for Kacchan to call him by his first name. They’re friends enough for Iida to convince him to sit the way he does, and wear the things he does.
“You and class prez are getting along? That’s a miracle!” Eijirou laughs, plopping down on the couch beside Izuku, handing him a bowl of cereal as he does. “Thought you guys would be way too different to be friends.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” Kacchan squints at them, about to say more when Iida enters the room.
“Good afternoon, Midoriya. Kirishima. A pleasure to see the two of you up and awake!” He smiles, bright as ever, taking the spot on the other side of Kacchan. Izuku and Eijirou don’t even get time to think before Iida and Kacchan are straight into their own conversation.
“You ever watched The Blair Witch project?” Kacchan asks, immediately. Iida shakes his head, adjusting his glasses.
“Don’t think I have. Though it sounds familiar.” He responds, and it’s then Izuku realises one of Iida’s hands is resting on Kacchan’s thigh. “Is that the one where it’s all found footage? Some 20 somethings go looking for a witch and wind up being possessed and murdered?”
Kacchan points a finger in his face, and to everyone’s surprise, Iida doesn’t even flinch. “That’s the one! It’s got that scene everyone references, where the guy stands in the corner facing the wall and he stands real still.” Kacchan pokes between Iida’s eyebrows, like punctuating his sentence, before bringing the hand down to rest over where Iida’s sits on his thigh.
“Right! I know the reference, but I’ve never watched the film.” Iida muses, “I’ve never seen the original Child’s Play, either. We have to add that to our list.”
Our list? Our list! What is going on here that Izuku doesn’t know about! They have a list of movies to watch together? Horror movies, at that? Sure, for Kacchan, it makes a lot of sense, but Iida?
“What about Saw? Should we watch those, or are there too many?” Iida asks, his hand moving absentmindedly to flat out hold Kacchan’s thigh, and Kacchan doesn’t stop him. “I personally really want to watch the first one, but I’m not fussed if that’s where we stop.”
“Eh,” Kacchan shrugs, and Izuku continues to stare at them, completely and utterly taken aback, “I think we stop after four. They get weird after that. We need to add to the book list, too, I finished ‘Speak’.”
BOOK LIST. THEY HAVE A BOOK LIST. Is there nothing they don’t have? What kind of friendship have they developed in the last two days? Is Eijirou aware of any of this?
Izuku turns to look at him, and clearly, he’s just as lost. His jaw hangs to the floor as he stares at Kacchan and Iida with wide eyes. This is unusual. Terribly, utterly, awfully unusual. None of this was discussed! When did this happen!
“I’ve got a few books to add,” IIda says, taking his hand away to reach for his phone in his pocket. Once he’s exchanged the phone to the other hand, Kacchan grabs his wrist to put it back where it was. Iida doesn’t protest - barely even acknowledges it!
“Bastard out of Carolina, and The Song of Achilles have been heavily recommended. So has Red, White, and Royal Blue, but I’d rather not.” Iida reads off his phone, glancing to Kacchan for his reaction.
“Yeah, I don’t wanna read that either. Bastard out of Caroline has good reviews, though.” Kacchan reaches for his phone, and Iida lets him take it. “Song of Achilles is alright, I think. We can save that for last. I wanna read The Troop before that. Apparently it’s real grotesque and shit.”
“Sounds interesting. Tensei recommended that one.” Iida leans over his shoulder, squinting at the screen.
“Hey, what the fuck!” Eijirou pipes up, voice far too cheery for the sentence he just blurted. “What’s going on right now.”
Iida and Kacchan both look up from the screen in unison, and it very nearly scares Izuku to see their shared agitated looks.
“Pardon?” Iida asks, adjusting his glasses again. Eijirou gestures a flat hand between the two of them, who are practically on top of each other at this point, and Izuku has to force back the laughter at the whole situation.
“You fuckers are on top of each other! This is flirting! What’s going on!” Eijirou laughs, incredulous. “It’s like you guys are dating!”
“We are dating.” They say, at the exact same time, like it’s something completely obvious.
“Since when?” Izuku yelps, fiddling with the hem of his tank top.
This cannot be real. Izuku’s dreaming, surely. Nightmaring, even. Iida and Kacchan…dating! It’s unheard of, completely out of the question!
They’re so different! Kacchan’s loud, and Iida’s loud, too, he supposes. But Kacchan reads too much…and maybe Iida does, too. Though! Kacchan’s violent, and abrasive, and goes to bed at 8pm and—
Oh, god, Iida tried to kill a man on a whim and makes sure that he goes to bed at 7:30 so that he’s asleep by 8. How had Izuku missed all of this. The signs…
“Since, like, a fucking month ago? Have you not been paying attention?” Kacchan growls at him. Iida squeezes the hand on his thigh, and Kacchan draws back.
“Katsuki and I haven’t been exactly open about the whole thing, but surely you should’ve noticed something before now?” Iida says, looking between Izuku and Eijirou.
Izuku shakes his head, feverishly, “no! It came out of nowhere!”
“You’re blind as fuck.” Kacchan snarls, before his attention goes back to Iida’s phone. “We literally fucked two days ago.”
Izuku can’t help the ungodly squawk that tears itself from his chest at the comment, jumping back against Eijirou’s chest. Eijirou shrieks, too, arms wrapping themselves around Izuku’s waist and grabbing hold of his cereal bowl before it tips and makes a mess.
“Katsuki.” Iida scolds, voice stern, but Kacchan just shrugs.
“They’re the ones being clueless.” He snides, tilting his head to rest on Iida’s shoulder. “You need to read The Good Master.”
-
Izuku’s not quite sure how it happens, just that it happens quickly. It’s frightening, though, how easy it was to simply adjust to the whole my-best-friends-are-together thing. But somehow, that works for them.
Since being ‘found out’ (even though they were never hiding), Kacchan and Iida have found a disturbing amount of confidence in their relationship, without even needing to do anything. It’s small things. They don’t…blatantly make out, or anything like that. It’s small.
Iida will hold open a door for him, but not for Eijirou. He’ll wait for him outside the changing rooms, but not for Izuku or Shouto. He’ll carry noise-cancelling headphones around, just for Kacchan, or will sit with him away from the group when he’s overwhelmed. It’s all quite small, but they can see how it supplies.
Where Eijirou will kiss Izuku’s cheek every morning, Kacchan will make Iida breakfast with a glass of orange juice. Where Shouto and Sero will hug and make out all over the couches, Iida will just hold onto Kacchan’s thigh, and neither need to say anything. And that works for them.
Like now, where Ei holds Izuku in his lap, head buried in the dip between his neck and shoulder, and Sero lies on top of Shouto’s chest, eyes shut but still awake - Kacchan sleeps, leaning into Iida’s side with his cheek pressed to his shoulder, and even in his unconsciousness, he rubs his cheek against the fabric of Iida’s sweater. Iida doesn’t mind, obviously, as he holds his book in his lap and rests his head on top of Kacchan’s.
Weekends are always unusual in the class 1-A dorms, but Izuku supposes that was a given.