Chapter Text
"Can you actually be serious for one fucking second and stop doing whatever you want with my face?"
Denki raises an eyebrow, turning from the mirror. "What? You mean, smiling?"
His voice comes out sassier than he'd intended, and oh, he hadn't even thought about how Katsuki's voice could be fun to mess with if he just played his cards right.
"Yes, I mean smiling, dipshit. It's freaky. Doesn't look right on me," Katsuki replies, features screwed up in disgust as he looks away from the other teen. "Get rid of it."
Katsuki's frown seems to be getting worse at the statement, which is a pity when he's currently blessed with Denki's pretty face. "I happen to think you'd look very sweet with a proper smile, 'Kacchan'. You're the one that looks freaky, scowling like that. You're gonna give me wrinkles, you know?"
The blond ignores him. "Pouting's off limits too."
Denki lets out a small offended sound. "Wha-? Bakubro, you know my pout is one of my best assets! Telling Kaminari Denki not to pout is like... like telling Puss in Boots not to do his signature big baby eyes!"
Katsuki yanks his hands out of his pockets. "Oh my God, I didn't say you couldn't do what you wanted, but not while you're strutting around UA in my body!" He tries to fire off mini explosions to punctuate his point, but all that comes out of his palms, facing up towards the ceiling of Denki's dorm, is yellow sparks. He looks down at his hands, eye twitching, then turns off the quirk and shoves the hands back in his pockets.
"This fucking sucks."
Denki snickers automatically at the grumpy look he's definitely not used to seeing on himself, and the sound is so rare to hear leaving Katsuki's lips it even almost stuns him.
"Come on, my Quirk's not a bad one to get stuck with," he defends before the other blond can notice and ban him from laughing. "Lemme try yours real quick."
The younger teen looks at the hands he's currently the owner of. Katsuki's fingers are less slender than his own, maybe a little more calloused too. His nails are pretty perfect, though. He'll give him that. And when he focuses, he even manages to get a tiny explosion to pop and sizzle in his palm. It doesn't hurt, and the small display is actually kind of adorable.
"Don't call my Quirk adorable, sparky," Katsuki retorts, and Denki's head jerks up, realising he'd said it aloud. He commits to it, though, making the explosion a little bigger and basking in the small firecracker noises.
"It's cute!"
Katsuki crosses his arms. "It's supposed to be intimidating.”
Denki sticks his tongue out and turns off the Quirk, wandering over to the mirror to inspect himself properly. "You were meant to be intimidating, but we all still think you're cute, don't we?"
Before Katsuki can reply with anything else, like how he was definitely not cute and don't fucking stick my tongue out again, Denki touches his cheeks and gasps into his reflection.
The older boy groans audibly, going over to collapse on Denki's bed in a heap, thoroughly done with him. "What the fuck is it now?"
Denki giggles as he looks into the mirror to see himself roll around on the bed and then turn over to look at him with that same bored expression on his face.
"I just noticed how soft your cheeks are," he answers, grinning. As he says it, he pokes his cheeks, pulling at them in increasing wonder. "Bakubro... They're so squishy and chubby! I never knew!"
In the reflection, Katsuki just looks at him a moment longer, then flips him off.
"That's it. I give up. I'm not watching this bullshit anymore."
"Noooo! Don't hide from me!" The blond laughs as his body-swapped friend turns around and faces the wall, throwing his pillow over his head. "I was gonna compliment your jawline too!" He runs a finger down Katsuki's jaw, under his ear to the tip of his chin, whistling. "Dude, it's so sharp, it could cut butter."
"Surprise, guess what? I don't care," comes the muffled reply under the pillow, and Denki sighs, finally turning back to the mirror.
"Fine, but I’m still gonna make commentary."
"Of course you are," the pillow mutters.
He inspects himself again, humming in satisfaction at Katsuki's mostly clear skin. As someone who followed a skincare routine religiously, he'd always appreciated when someone took good care of their skin. Sure, there was a blemish or two, but they were teens; it was pretty much inevitable.
Katsuki's eyes, though, wow. Framed by long eyelashes, light flecks of amber seemed to reflect in the crimson irises, shifting to maroon, and yeah, Denki should definitely thank that kid for bumping into them on their way out of the canteen.
"Can’t you fucking keep your opinions to yourself for one second, you dollar store Pikachu?"
"I think you know the answer to that by now," Denki snarks back, still focused on Katsuki's features. "I don't even know why you're laying in bed not taking a look at me yourself. I deserve a little praise too, don't you think?"
Katsuki scoffs under the pillow. "I know what you look like. I see your dumb mug every day. I don't have to waste my time in front of a mirror."
"Fine, fine. Your loss," the taller boy replies, smirking anyway. "Doesn't change the fact you'll be looking later."
Then Denki turns his attention back to the mirror, seeing that smirk, and almost jolts backwards, heart suddenly in his throat. Wow, okay. Right. He'd have to be careful. Being able to exist in Katsuki's body is not good for his little disaster bi heart. Especially when the older teen can do things like smirk so painfully handsomely like that.
It's too bad he spends most of his time being a grumpy bitch.
"I heard that."
"Then stop being a grumpy bitch, you grumpy bitch. You're me now!"
"Oh, joy."
Denki squints at the boy facing the wall, then sighs, returning to his reflection.
Wait, holy shit, he was so focused on Katsuki's face he almost forgot about his body. Before he can even properly process whether to actually act on the impulse, Denki's hands have already latched on to the pecs over the black shirt.
Oh hell yes.
But then, he looks back up into the reflection and catches the real Katsuki staring right back at him in amuesement. Instantly, he squeaks and turns around, pulling his palms off again like he's just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The older teen just sits against the wall behind the bed now, a smug smile starting to curl at the corner of his lips. "So I'm pretty sure that counts as harassment."
"Listen..," Denki says, trying to think of an excuse for a moment, before giving up. "...Yeah, I got nothing. Damn, you're telling me Midoriya gets to touch these whenever he wants?"
At Izuku’s name, Katsuki's smile fades with realisation, and he lets his head hit the wall behind him. "Shit. I forgot about that."
"Hm?" Denki asks, abandoning his chest completely now, blinking at him. "About what?"
The voltage user groans. "I got a date with Deku today. Been so busy the last two weeks we haven't gone out at all. I can't fucking blow him off right now."
Denki walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. "Dude, chill. Just tell him what happened. Easy. Look." He clears his throat and does his best Katsuki impression, growling and snarling.
"Hey, damn shithead! Thought you should know Sparky and I were walking back to the dorms when some bastard ran out and bumped into us, so now we're fucking stuck like this until whenever the goddamn Quirk wears off, or whenever I find the dipfuck that did this and pummel their face into the ground! Anyways, I wuv you, babykins, and I'm soooo lucky that you-"
“-Absolutely not. Finish that sentence and I’m fucking frying you with your own shitty Quirk."
The younger teen laughs, loud and genuine, and when he turns to look at his friend, Katsuki's (well, Denki's) ears are already red and burning. He won't even look at him, staring at the duvet cover instead with shoulders high in embarrassment.
And he said he wasn't cute.
Wait... is he technically calling himself cute, then? Ah, fuck it, Denki knows he's cute. Katsuki just amplifies it. He's so proud of him.
Denki finishes his laugh with a soft snicker, wiping away a nonexistent tear before cooing at the other teen. Damn, he really is cute when he blushes like this. How did anyone resist him?
Then Katsuki sighs, letting his shoulders fall at last. "I can't tell him."
Denki blinks, snapping out of it. "What do you mean, you can't tell him? He's your boyfriend, dude. It's kinda part of the deal."
The blush has faded now, and Katsuki frowns again, deep in thought for a few moments. Denki tries not to poke at it this time, just watching him quietly work things out for himself.
"It's... complicated. He... you...”
The other male shakes his head, as if abandoning the explanation. Denki wonders for a second what he was going to say involving Izuku and himself, but wills the thought away when Katsuki speaks again.
“Look, just forget it. I just owe him a proper date by now, okay? He's been super stressed and shit, and I don't wanna put it off until whenever this gets fixed. So here's the plan."
His amber eyes flick up to meet Denki's with a determination he’s seen thousands of times.
"You go on that date as me while I go find the bastard that did this to us, we get swapped back, and that's it. End of story."
Whoa.
Whoa whoa whoa.
What?!
Denki blinks a few times, then puts his arms in a time-out motion. "Hold on. Come again? Bakugou, I can't go on a date as you! With your boyfriend, no less! Setting aside the whole he's your boyfriend thing, what if he asks me stuff I'm supposed to know if I'm you? Like his shoe size, or his childhood teacher's name, or his favourite food-? Wait, katsudon, I know that one-"
Katsuki takes his pillow and throws it at him. "We're dealing with Deku here, not a fucking email security question, you twink,” he fires back, rolling his eyes. “If he asks you something you don't know, just deflect by talking about a hero or a Quirk or something. Use your instincts or whatever. Just don’t let him suspect that you’re... you know, you.”
"I still don't get why we can't just tell him," Denki replies, rubbing his face and fixing his hair before realising, one, Katsuki doesn't have the kind of hair that needs fixing, and two, Katsuki's hair is soft as hell.
"We can't tell him because I said so," the shorter boy says. "If we ignore the last part, your impression of me was pretty decent, so just call him 'Deku', don't do anything I wouldn't do, and for the love of God, don't blow anything up with my Quirk."
Denki jokes, a little uncomfortably, "And what if the thing you would do is blow something up with your Quirk?”
"It's harder to control than it looks, so don’t fuck around with it unless you wanna put yourself in a hospital. Been there enough these few months, don't you think?"
His last statement is said so gravely that Denki swallows. "Seriously, dude. Are we really gonna do this?"
"Really," Katsuki responds, before sighing and rooting around in Denki's pocket, bringing out his phone. "So what's your passcode?"
"Huh? Why do you need my passcode?"
"Cuz I'm gonna need to use it to text you shit during your 'date', dumbass. S'not like we can just walk around using each other's phones. What the fuck even is this?" He holds up the mobile so Denki can see the little pink rhinestones studded all over the back and the Pikachu keychain hanging from it.
Denki crosses his arms. "Listen, if you're gonna insult my little sister's handiwork, date's off, Explodoboy."
"Fine, whatever. Just tell me already. Mine's 8346."
"Uh... Okay, so about that..." He pauses, trying to recall if he has anything incriminating on his phone.
The voltage user looks at him a moment longer, then raises an eyebrow. "Oi, oi. Don’t tell me that’s where you keep your... you know.”
He screams again internally, pretty sure he looks like the scared hamster meme. And for a moment, Katsuki's seriousness falters, and he actually lets out a small bark of laughter. It's actually pretty relieving to hear, if Denki has to be honest. He's not used to seeing himself look so pissed or serious.
"I'm not gonna look at your shit. I just need to be able to text you. Look, Sparky, I'm trusting you with my fucking relationship, so you can probably trust me with whatever's on your damn phone."
Denki looks at him a little sceptically, but eventually relents, mumbling, "...4208."
"...Is the 420 part-?"
"-Yeah."
"And the 8?"
He shrugs. "...I just like the number 8."
Katsuki sighs, but checks the passcode anyway, nodding when it works.
Denki's just about to check his own when Katsuki's phone dings with a text.
They both look at each other, and Denki taps in the passcode quickly, scrolling past the other blond's older messages. Damn, he had a lot unread.
Sorry, class prez. The explosion user internally winces as he leaves 30 unread messages from him (probably over the course of the last two months) to read Izuku's latest message. He resists smiling when he notices that the green-haired boy's the only one so far whose every message had been read. Cute.
Deku: hi Kacchan!! Are we still on for our movie date? ^^ i'm out rn, so can i meet you at the cinema in 30? Love you!!! <3
Denki's breath hitches, and he shows the message to Katsuki, who taps out a quick reply and tosses the phone back to him.
Me: sounds good. see you then, nerd.
Denki pouts when he reads it. "Bakubro, you're mean. At least send him a heart back or something."
"I am not sending Deku a heart."
"Well, I am."
“Kaminari, don't you fucking-" Denki scampers off the bed instantly, tapping away on his phone before Katsuki can grab the back of his collar.
Having sealed his fate, the teen smiles and turns the phone to face him, the red heart beating right under his newest text to Izuku.
Me: sounds good. see you then, nerd.
Me: <3
"Oops."
"Kaminari fucking Denki, If I didn't need my body back after this, I would be choking you right now."
The taller blond winks at him. "Kinky. But unfortunately, I gotta get ready for my date - need I remind you, the one you're making me go on? We got 30 minutes, and I assume that's time better spent getting dressed?"
Katsuki slaps a hand over his own face, sighing.
"...Fine."
*
"Ow! Bakubro, could you maybe not stab my eye out with that?"
Katsuki growls, and for a moment it actually looks like he's going to stab Denki's eye with the liquid eyeliner on purpose now.
"Maybe if you'd just sit still, it wouldn't be so dangerous, damn it."
Denki sighs, continuing to sit in the spinning chair in front of Katsuki's desk while the other teen bends slightly again, grumbling as he continues drawing the small wing over his left eyelid, gaze flicking to the other one every few seconds for evenness. The urge to swivel is still very much difficult to resist, but the mustard blond keeps glaring at him whenever his knee moves an inch, so Denki tries his best to keep in place. At least for a while.
Changing into Katsuki's clothes had been a trip. He'd practically been vibrating with excitement when he'd stepped into his room, grabby hands edging towards the closet. But then Katsuki had slapped him away, adding a small electric shock for good measure, before making him sit on his bed while he chose his outfit. How dare he use his own Quirk against him.
Despite the pout he gave the shorter boy though, Katsuki just smirked back, and oh wow, if he didn't think he was hot earlier (and he did), he sure did now. Seriously, why was Denki single? When he could smirk just like that? He should really do it more often.
While Katsuki lines his eyelids, Denki hums quietly, enjoying the low timbre of his new voice. He definitely needs to test out saying a bunch of different things and record them somehow. What should he say?
"Denki," he mutters. "Denki, Denki, Denki, Denki, Denki-"
"-What the flying fuck are you doing?"
The taller boy raises an eyebrow, feeling the soft yet firm press of the liner. "Saying my name over and over again. Duh. Isn't that obvious?"
"...Why.”
Denki wants to tilt his head at the question, but decides against it at the last second. "Cuz I figured, while I'm in this body, I gotta try all the things I've always wanted to hear you say. And you know, I've always kinda wanted to hear you say my given name for once."
Katsuki looks at him for a moment, before returning to finishing off the eyeliner wing, only acknowledging the answer with a simple "fucking dork".
Denki's okay with that. In fact, there's very little he's not okay with right now.
After all, his very attractive friend is inches away from his face right now, and despite not seeing the face he'd expected, he's still pretty happy with the hand currently cupping his face and chin, tilting his head this way and that to control the angle he was lining at and stop Denki from moving.
The contact is still delicate, and whenever those fingers move, slipping down to hold his chin and turn his head the way he wanted, it feels like the gentle paint strokes of a brush against his skin. For a moment, he wonders if it's the softness of his own fingers that's enabling this, or if his friend really is just being careful with him despite his harsh words.
"And... done."
Katsuki finally moves back again, turning Denki's head either side before finally nodding, looking pleased with his own handiwork. He didn't notice, but he'd automatically leaned forward as soon as the fingers had left him, itching for more contact.
"...Kaminari?"
Denki blinks, then laughs nervously when he realises, retreating in embarrassment. Katsuki didn't have to know how much he wished he'd just keep holding him gently like that. He'd survived this long with an unrequited crush, after all.
"It's nothing, dude. Don't worry about it."