Chapter Text
In all honesty, Katsuki actually hadn't meant to hit him. It was pure coincidence. The boy just happened to be walking by the truck when Katsuki’s foot slipped on the gas. (When telling this story to the first responders, he may have conveniently forgotten to mention that his truck was supposed to be in park.) He’d even screamed a little as the male rolled onto the hood of his truck. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone, of course.
But that was how he came to be seated at the edge of a stranger’s hospital bed, clutching a “Get Well Soon” balloon in unenthusiastic condolences. It wasn’t that he was apathetic about hitting a pedestrian-- although he wasn’t exactly on his knees begging for forgiveness, either-- but nobody seemed to believe Katsuki when he insisted it was an accident. Sure, he lied about a lot of things. His late schoolwork, his friend’s mysteriously disappearing answer sheet to said schoolwork, his dubious search history. But this time he was dead serious. Hopefully, the green-haired boy would be more understanding.
According to the doctors, the boy’s name was something like… Izumi. No, Itsuki. Maybe. Something like that. His right arm was broken, a clean break straight through, he’d been informed, but other than that and a few scrapes, he’d be fine. Patched up and ready to go. He had to be.
Katsuki’s gut clenched at the thought of what might happen next. If the stranger laying next to him wasn’t fine. If he decided to press charges. Katsuki was already struggling with his debt as a student, he’d confess that upfront. Often he only had microwave dinners for meals, skipping breakfast entirely and snagging a snack from the cafeteria for lunch. He’d learned how to live with his constantly aching stomach, the incessant need to eat a dull pang that no longer bothered him. But if Izoru? Itsumi? Whatever-his-name-was decided to take this case to court? Katsuki had no way to counter. He’d already admitted to hitting him. If the stranger pressed charges, there would be nothing left to do but resign himself to a long, slow death of hunger. Like a starving artist, although Katsuki couldn’t even make that claim, as a chemistry major. He had nothing to offer the world except some mildly interesting explosions. Nitroglycerin was the shit. But that wasn’t the point.
He let his gaze shift to the unconscious boy beside him. The stranger was certainly eccentric. And…oddly cute? His hair was a bright shade of green, a darker ombre at his roots. The viridian tone even stained his brows.
That was dedication, Katsuki mused. Definitely an art major.
Light freckles dotted what’s-his-name’s face, trailing over the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, slipping down his neck and collarbones. The spots flecked the top of the boy’s shoulders too, which Katsuki could see since the papery hospital gown the stranger wore was pulled up on his right arm. There was also a large, purpled bruise on his bicep, not completely hidden behind the tightly wrapped bandages.
The sight of the bruise made Katsuki physically wince, wrestling him from his enamored examination of the boy. It looked painful, which had to be nothing compared to what it felt. Katsuki had been busted up before, but never anything major. A twisted ankle from falling off a bridge when he was six, a fractured thumb from punching a nerd in the face back in grade school, and that one time he’d hit something with his truck that wasn’t a person. A tree, to be specific. He’d only gotten a mild concussion from that, not intense enough to exempt him from school. That was unfortunate to him at the time, but now he was just grateful. Grateful that he hadn’t had to be bandaged like the stranger, taken by an ambulance to a hospital bed with a heart monitor clipped to his finger.
He leaned backward in his stiff-backed visitor’s chair, suddenly needing to get as far away as possible from the broken boy reclined in front of him. The plasticky padding of the seat did little to cushion his arching spine as he stretched.
How long is this nerd gonna be asleep?
Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked loudly and annoyingly. Birds squawked outside the window. Sunlight drifted in, lazy and unfiltered, through the parted white curtains, suspending gleaming bits of dust in its amber rays. The heart monitor to his left beeped steadily, a slightly intrusive reminder of the morning’s events. It was practically serene, with the quiet sounds of the boy’s breathing next to him, layered among the not-quite-silence in the otherwise empty room. But it still unnerved Katsuki.
With another uncomfortable shift, he turned, noticing a small clipboard. It lay innocuously on the counter, temptingly flipped open. It had to be the stranger’s information clipboard. And it contained everything he needed to know. His fingertips stretched out greedily for it, hungry for the forbidden knowledge it contained. One peek couldn’t hurt, right? Just to check how much money he’d have to pay? How many dinners he’d have to go without? He grabbed it without thinking, the artificial wood light in his hands.
Midoriya, Izuku, the paper read.
Izuku. That’s what the boy’s name was. It fit much better than the other monikers he’d butchered. Katsuki tried it out, the word rolling off his tongue in half a whisper.
“Izuku.”
“That’s me!” came a soft, breathy chuckle.
Katsuki almost chucked the clipboard in alarm. The stranger to his side had come to, bright green eyes blinked awake, head turned to the side to completely face the other. Despite the no doubt debilitating pain in his arm, Izuku wore a warm smile, lips pressed into a soft curve. It was almost unsettling, he decided, how cheerful the boy was. Wasn’t he hurting? Wasn’t he unsettled by the presence of a complete stranger sitting at his bedside?
“Fuckin’ creep, don’t scare me like that!” Katsuki grumbled through gritted teeth. It was so easy to pretend he was innocent, but the untold lie felt sticky in his mouth
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!”
Izuku made a nervous motion like he wanted to bring up his hands, then his whole face contorted in pain as he tried to move his arm. His green eyebrows knitted together as he cried out, his button nose scrunched and eyes shut tight.
“Ow, what happened? How’d I even get here?” The smaller boy let out a soft groan as he faced the ceiling. “Feels like I got hit by a truck.”
Katsuki’s face bloomed with heat and guilt at Izuku’s words.
“Well, you did.” He winced internally at his words, so blunt and abrupt.
Izuku’s brilliant eyes snapped open with shock and concern. It was clear he hadn’t been expecting that answer. The jibe had been joking, sarcastic. He probably shouldn’t have answered. But he did. Why didn’t he let the doctors handle it? It would’ve sounded so much better enclosed in medical terms, hidden behind the technical words like a barricade. Katsuki felt the pool of shame grow wider in his chest, completely enclosing his lungs now. His breathing felt heavy, restricted. What had he done?
“That explains all this, then.” The freckled boy rolled his eyes around the room, motioning to his surroundings. The emergency room was nothing out of the ordinary. Crisp, white sheets lay fitted tightly to the spongy hospital mattress, flimsy and paper-like. The wooden cabinets were a very basic rippled honey color, and the offset cream countertops were just as boring. The only thing in the room that drew any interest was the extensive medical diagrams tacked to the pale green wall, mapping out the muscles in a figure’s bicep. Not exactly quality interior decorating, but it served its purpose, the blond supposed. After his brief inspection, Izuku turned to Katsuki again.
“Did we catch the jerk who hit me?”
There was a trace of playfulness in his tone, but the words still caused Katsuki to grimace. He needed to play it cool. Maybe if he was funny, got on Izuku’s good side, he’d stand a better chance of saving his wallet.
“Okay, wow," Katsuki rolled his eyes in what he hoped was a semi-sympathetic manner, “I got you a balloon, I’m not a prick.”
He shoved his fist, which clutched the ribbon of the foil balloon, in front of Izuku’s face.
“You did this, then?”
The disappointment in his voice hurt worse than any anger would have.
“...Yeah.”
Green eyebrows shot up at Katsuki’s easy confession.
“Better be a good balloon, then.”
* * * * * * *
Izuku took the news so good-naturedly it was almost comedic. Each doctor that came in told him the same thing, between wraps of a bandage, fits of a sling. A break in the right arm and a heavy hip contusion. Katsuki was right, it sounded so much better enveloped in the clinical phrases. Better at least than, Hey nerd, I hit you with my truck. Yet Izuku handled it all with a smile. Simply laughed off the limp in his step, the ragdoll dangle of his now-useless right arm. Katsuki wondered how anyone could be so forgiving. If he’d been the one hit, he’d personally ensure the person responsible would never see the light of day. Sue the hell out of whoever had the nerve to hit him , the Bakugou Katsuki. Unimportant chem major. Campus annoyance.
The more he thought, the more his ego deflated. Heavy guilt took its place, filling his chest with lead, expanding in his ribs until he could feel nothing but remorse. Here he was, acting all high and mighty when he’d been the one that hospitalized this smiling, absolute puppy of a boy. And he couldn’t lie, not even to himself when the thought occurred to him that the only reason he’d stuck around wasn’t that he was concerned about the stranger’s wellbeing. He was waiting there, outside the hospital bathroom for Izuku to finish changing, because he needed to convince him not to press charges, to spare his empty bank account.
Overbearing shame pressed against Katsuki’s sternum, cutting his breaths into short, staccato gasps. What kind of a person was he? So selfishly concerned for his finances, too prideful to see if the person he damn near ran over was even okay.
He didn't even notice the creak of the bathroom door, the quiet footsteps until a gentle tap on his upper pec distracted him.
“Were you…waiting for me?” Izuku asked. His signature beam was askew as if he were anticipating something.
A little too quickly, Katsuki’s eyes darted to the green-haired boy in front of him. Izuku was wearing a white polo underneath a sage-green sweater that matched his iridescent eyes nicely. Only the creamy collar and cuffs of the polo were visible under the sweater, which contrasted the black jeans that Izuku sported. Very tight jeans. Very ripped jeans. Katsuki’s eyes flicked back up, ignoring the way his pulse spiked in his veins as his gaze traveled along Izuku’s legs. A small pride button, pinned to Izuku’s sweater, did not escape his thorough inspection. Neither did Izuku’s left hand, which still lingered by Katsuki’s chest. And was it Katsuki’s imagination, or were the boy’s eyes trained on his pectorals too?
Now here was someone he could work with…
He inhaled deeply, willing his thundering heartbeat to still, and stepped forward, pinning the boy against the wall with one arm and a mischievous grin.
“Keep your hands to yourself, fuckin’ perv,” he teased. With his sudden movement, Izuku’s palm was quickly pressed to the blond’s chest. Even though it was Katsuki who initiated the touch, the freckled male gasped at the contact, going bright red before ripping his hand away.
“I’m so sorry! I…I didn’t mean…I just wasn’t thinking, I-I--”
Katsuki reveled in the furious blush that swept across Izuku’s face. It felt good to have some element of control, some foothold on the person whom his entire life now depended on.
“‘S fine.” Katsuki shrugged but didn’t step back. “I might have been waiting. But why’d you wanna know?”
“Just, um, curious, I guess?”
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
At that, Izuku scowled, his nervous demeanor and gentle expression evaporating in an instant.
“Curiosity also hit the cat. With a truck, apparently.”
That shut Katsuki up fast. His jaw clicked shut with a loud snap, unsure of how to respond without sounding like either a total pansy or a complete bastard. The nerd had a little sass to him, evidently. A mix of annoyance and interest surged and bubbled through his veins at Izuku’s words. He wanted to banter back, say something about how he’d do it again. But he knew he couldn’t keep playing this game, not when Izuku could so easily gain the upper hand. It was almost patronizing, how this green-haired stranger could play him like a fiddle, all by holding this court case over his head. So, with a heavy exhale from his nose, Katsuki bit back all the scalding remarks he longed to say and pushed off the wall, steadying himself on his feet again.
“Can Curiosity make it up to the cat?”
Izuku’s eyes sparkled with a hint of a smile.
“Maybe if he pays for lunch.”