Archive of Our Own

I. Midnight Meeting 

It was 3 a.m. and, as Todoroki Shouto could’ve anticipated, the dorm was silent. He knew his habit of watching autoplay cat videos and hero fight compilations often sucked him into the earliest hours of the morning, but it had been weeks since he last saw that hour (Momo had, not unkindly, pointed out his dark circles and offered him some of her sleepytime tea blend for the evenings, leading to an expletive and insult-laced diatribe from Bakugou about proper sleeping habits). He shuddered through his exhaustion, already dreading the lecture Tenya was certain to give him the next morning when he was still in bed 10 minutes before classes were due to start.  It wasn’t that Shouto was a bad student, if he said so himself, it was just that he was baffled by Tenya’s insistence on being everywhere early when their own teacher rolled into class 30 seconds before the bell rang. If it was good enough for Aizawa-sensei, one of perhaps five adults that Shouto liked and respected, it was good enough for Shouto.

Though his aching eyes and tired body begged him to put his phone down and go to sleep, his mind was still racing and his heart pounding. Unfortunately for Shouto, the last hero fight video on his autoplay didn’t include a list of heroes featured in the description, leading to a wave of unpleasant memories and emotions when Endeavor’s stern, cold gaze and POV-shot Flashfire Fist popped up on screen. He took a few deep breaths, using the techniques that Aizawa-sensei had taught his class for preventing and treating panic attacks, and felt ice creep into his lungs as he came back to his body. He was safe. He was in his dorm room at U.A, laying on his futon. His capable classmates, Sero and Satou, were in the rooms on either side of him, fast asleep, and Bakugou was below. If anybody was going to beat him or any other member of Class 3-A when Bakugou was around, it would be Bakugou himself and it would be in a fair fight. This thought soothed him, oddly enough.

Suddenly, the previously peaceful silence of the dorm was oppressive, reminding him of the forceful, cold quiet of his cavernous childhood home after his mother was taken away. He couldn’t sleep like that, he needed a distraction. Should he wake Izuku up? No, he didn’t know how to even start that conversation and besides, wouldn’t he be a bother to someone who was already so inexplicably kind to him? Especially someone who slept as little as Izuku did on a good day anyway? Shouto couldn’t take the guilt of doing that to his closest friend, even if Izuku would say that it was okay, wearing that sunny smile he always had. Tea, then, maybe that kind that Momo had offered him. Shouto got out of bed, body protesting, and slipped a sweatshirt over his pajamas. Though he had tea-making supplies (and a built-in personal heating system) in his dorm room, he took the stairs down to the communal kitchen, dorm slippers softly cushioning his steps.

Once in the kitchen, he put on his special whistle-free electric kettle and dug out his favorite mug, the one patterned with smiling snowflakes that Fuyumi bought for him. He took a tea bag out of Momo’s cupboard and popped it into his mug, leaning drowsily against the counter as he waited for the water to boil.

“Stealing from Ponytail isn’t very heroic of you, Halfie,” a sleepy, husky voice said from the common room. Shouto whipped around in surprise, meeting a pair of sharp crimson eyes blinking at him from one of the sofas.

“Bakugou?” Shouto asked, shocked to see him out of his room past 9 p.m. The blonde’s brow furrowed in irritation, his most common facial expression.

“Who the fuck else would I be? You need to get your stupid mismatched eyes checked or something?” Bakugou retorted. Shouto noticed the dark circles marring his otherwise perfect skin, his eyes so bloodshot that the irises blended into the whites.

“My eyes are fine, I got them checked last month. Momo offered me tea for when I can’t sleep, do you want some? You look really bad,” Shouto replied. Bakugou rubbed his temples; his lack of yelling was evidence, in Shouto’s eyes, that he was absolutely exhausted.

“Yeah, I fucking guess,” Bakugou said.

Shouto didn’t respond (was he supposed to?), simply taking down another one of his mugs and putting in a sleepytime tea bag. If he remembered correctly, Bakugou had often loudly complained about sweet things, so he didn’t add sugar to it like he did his own. He poured the tea and took both mugs over to where Bakugou sat on the sofa, staring at nothing. He didn’t thank Shouto for the tea, though he did snort when he saw the adorable kitten pattern on his mug. Shouto counted it as a win and plopped on the other side of the couch. He gazed at the clean planes of the other boy’s face as he sipped, making a pleased hum when Bakugou seemed to like or at least not actively hate the tea. Another win for Shouto.

“Fuck are you staring at?” Bakugou snarled. Shouto didn’t shift his gaze at all. Think like Izuku or Ochako, what would they do here? Probably leave Bakugou alone, honestly, but what would they do for Shouto? What was the correct social course of action for when your most volatile and closed-off friend seemed to have something bothering him but he denies you’re friends and neither of you are good at talking?

“You seem tired,” Shouto observed, “Um, nightmares?”

“None of your damn business,” Bakugou immediately responded. Shouto gave another hum in response and continued to quietly sip his tea. They sat in more or less companionable silence, Shouto quietly watching his classmate and getting sleepy again. He’d have to thank Momo, right? That’s what his friends would tell him to do. He’d thank her in… three and a half hours when class started. Bakugou sighed.

“Not like I care, but why the fuck are you down here at three a.m.? Investigating the roof for aliens again?”

“That was one time in first year and I found some very compelling evidence. I have a notebook if you want to see it.”

“I don’t. Forget it, I’m going to bed,” Bakugou replied, setting his half-full mug down, “’Night, IcyHot.”

“Wait,” Shouto said, “Nightmares. For me. Or flashbacks? I wasn’t asleep so I don’t know what to call them.”

Bakugou settled back into the couch.

“Your shitty old man again?” he asked, “Or your psycho brother?”

“The first. I’ve never had nightmares about Touya-nii, even after everything. Well, except watching you get stolen right in front of me, I guess, that’s always a pretty bad one for me and Izuku and Shouji. But that’s more about losing you than about being scared of him? It’s weird.”

“Wish I never had nightmares about him but what fucking ever, that was two years ago and All For One was way worse,” Bakugou said, “Enough emotional bullshit, your old man isn’t fucking here, he had to flee the goddamn country, and nobody is gonna kick your candy-cane ass but me. Got it?”

Shouto felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest. Bakugou was a strange and aggressive creature, sure, but he somehow always knew what Shouto needed to hear. And he didn’t lie or pretend to be polite to protect people’s feelings, a facet of his friend’s explosive personality that the terminally confused Shouto absolutely appreciated.

“Got it,” Shouto said, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips in spite of himself, “What about you? What brings you down here so early when you usually go running at 5?”

“Fucking stalker, I’ve never seen you up before class starts so how do you even know that?” Bakugou demanded, then without waiting for a response, “I don’t know, I got a lot on my mind I guess. Did you hear the nerd asked Pink Cheeks out?”

Shouto blinked at him. Yes, he knew that Izuku and Ochako were together, a fact that they were both individually and as a pair excited to share with him. They were his best friends, after all, and isn’t that the kind of thing that best friends told each other? From his limited experience, he would say so.

“Yes, I heard. They told me and Tenya earlier,” Shouto responded, still unsure where Bakugou was going with this.

“He was so damn excited when he told me, had that stupid grin on his face and everything” Bakugou continued while staring blankly into his hands, “And fuck, I know I should just be grateful that he wants to be friends again at all but it just fucking sucks and I know that he doesn’t know how bad this hurts because I never told him and I’m trying to be a better person but fuck, right? Fuck!”

Shouto continued to stare at him. He was… upset? Because Izuku and Ochako were going out? Shouto chewed on his lower lip, willing Bakugou to be less cryptic and more like the way he usually was, brash and clear and easy for Shouto to understand. Suddenly, Shouto had it.

“You wanted to ask Ochako out yourself?” he asked. Bakugou stared back at him, an unreadable and slightly wild expression playing out in his eyes. Interacting with people was always difficult for Shouto, like playing a never-ending board game where no one explained the rules and half the pieces were missing, but it was never this hard with Bakugou once Shouto realized in first year what he was actually saying beneath the abrasive persona. Shouto wracked his brain for the two and a half years worth of social knowledge he now had, desperately trying to understand, and then the clouds broke.

“Oh,” Shouto responded, nodding, “Uh, me too. Not Izuku for me though even though he’s great. Sorry for your loss?”

Bakugou visibly relaxed and Shouto congratulated himself on reading Bakugou’s unspoken plea.

“Fuck, Halfie, don’t apologize for shit that isn’t your fault,” Bakugou replied, “But yeah. It sucks.”

“I kind of get it though,” Shouto said, “I don’t pretend to know or understand exactly what you and Izuku’s relationship is, but I guess Izuku is kind of like Kirishima.”

Bakugou stared at him incredulously.

“Shitty Hair? What does he have to do with any of this? Your mind is insane.”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? I asked him not to but anyway, I asked Kirishima out last year,” Shouto said, remembering the autumn days they sometimes spent together after classes, “He’s so nice, and everything about him just feels so warm and bright and he gives incredible hugs and I don’t know, I just…”

He trailed off but Bakugou nodded.

“Sounds like Kirishima alright. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s the most likeable fucking guy on the planet, including the nerd. I’m not shocked that you liked him or that he didn’t tell me, because he’s a good fucking friend. Again, don’t say shit to him about that or I’ll kill you.”

Shouto smiled a little to himself. For how much Bakugou blustered about having friendship forced upon him, he really didn’t seem to mind it all that much. It fell again as he watched Bakugou avert his tired eyes back to his hands, biting his plush lower lip.

“Do you think-“ Bakugou swallowed, sounding uncharacteristically small, “Do you think there’s something wrong with us or whatever?”

“I don’t know,” Shouto answered honestly, “I don’t understand how any of this works.”

Bakugou was silent for a moment and Shouto had the vivid mental image of cracking open his blond head to see what thoughts were running through it.  The other boy stood and stretched, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Me either,” Bakugou yawned, “I’m going to bed. Don’t miss breakfast or I’ll kill you.”

“Goodnight, Bakugou,” Shouto replied, taking the mugs to the kitchen. He didn’t expect a reply, but that same raspy voice spoke for one last time.

“’Night, IcyHot."

II. An Intriguing Proposal

5 a.m. came too soon for Katsuki, barely 90 minutes after finally closing his eyes, and he briefly considered blowing up his alarm clock, the sun, and then himself. As the clock screamed incessantly in his ear, he groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. Would it really be so bad to miss his morning workout? He could just text Kiri to call it off and… no, top heroes didn’t take days off no matter how fucking exhausted they were or how much their heart was breaking. That lazy-ass, half and half bastard and his weird habits must be rubbing off on Katsuki or something. What was his deal anyway? Two and a half years of bothering Katsuki and the blond still couldn’t figure that weirdo out. And then last night (or was it this morning?) they had…

Katsuki shot bolt-upright in bed and slammed his alarm off, uncaring if he broke the fucking thing for the third time this month. Heart pounding, he tucked his head between his drawn-up knees, hyperventilating into his comforter, fuck, fuck, he told the bastard about Deku! In a moment of goddamn weakness, he supposed, but he knew, he knew , he knew what Katsuki was and that IcyHot idiot was too fucking clueless to understand what secrets should be kept. He could picture it now: IcyHot, blinking his stupid fish eyes at lunch and casually telling his nerd best friend that Katsuki was in love with him in that stupid monotone voice of his. He pictured big green eyes turning sad, sympathetic, pitying and a consolatory “Oh, Kacchan…” and that settled it: he was going to have to kill Half and Half to stop him from running his dumbass mouth.

He dragged himself out of bed, because heroes don’t panic or skip their workouts, and dressed quickly in his running clothes. He grabbed his phone and stumbled to his door, body crying out for more sleep, then yanked it open to see a certain chipper redheaded idiot filling his doorway with his fist raised, ready to knock.

“Hey, man! You ready to rock this?” Kirishima said brightly, his shark-smile wide and shining, his crimson hair already teased and sprayed to the sky, his fists slammed together in Red Riot’s signature pose. Katsuki hated him.

“The fuck’s got you all happy this morning?” Katsuki grumbled, shoving past the guy he would only admit was his best friend in his own mind. Kirishima wrapped his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders and pulled him close, an easy feat considering that Shitty Hair had grown like a stupid weed their second year and Katsuki, well, Katsuki just didn’t. At all. At eighteen, he was the same height that he had been at fourteen and the only guy in the class shorter than him was Birdhaus. Even fucking Deku, tiny-ass Deku, had hit a growth spurt and, like Katsuki’s other dumbass friends, developed the annoying habit of patting Katsuki gently on the head and dodging an explosion. Whatever, like height was going to stop him from becoming the greatest hero ever.

Katsuki pushed Kirishima’s arm off and stomped down the hall, hearing his friend’s laughter as he quite irritatingly caught up to him with a few paces of his longer legs.

“Seriously, dude, what’s with you today?” Kirishima asked when he caught up, his big cow eyes practically glistening with earnest concern, “You’re even grumpier than usual and you’ve got huge dark circles. You’re not getting sick, are you? We should skip our run and go to Recovery Girl if you are.”

“I’m perfect, Hair-for-Brains,” Katsuki snarled back at him, “I was just up late.”

Kirishima grinned again at that and gently nudged Katsuki in the ribs as they made their way outside to the dorm running trail.

“Well, tell whoever kept you up all night that she should leave you alone,” Kiri cackled, never a good thing for Katsuki’s temper, “I get it though, man, girls are crazy! Mina keeps texting me at 2 am and…”

Katsuki tuned him out as he went through his series of warm-up stretches and they started running on the trail. Ever since he got together with Mina their second year, it was like Kiri never stopped talking about her, expanding his normal repertoire of favorite conversational topics to include five things: Crimson Riot, steak, weightlifting, his friends’ feelings, and now Mina. Of those topics, Mina was the least comfortable point of discussion, especially since without a distraction, Kiri naturally started prodding at Katsuki’s love life or lack thereof. And yeah, fucking sue Katsuki, he hadn’t told his best friend about his total lack of interest in girls. He wasn’t exactly scared of his reaction— Kirishima would probably cry actual tears and declare that opening up to him about it was ‘so manly, bro!’— but Katsuki hadn’t told anyone … except IcyHot, sort of. IcyHot, for whatever bullshit reason 3 AM Katsuki had justified to himself, was the sole person that was allowed in on Katsuki’s secret. Temporary insanity, definitely.

They finished their morning run in comfortable silence and returned to the dorm, where they showered, dressed, and made their way down to the kitchen for breakfast. Predictably, Katsuki was immediately surrounded by the pack of idiots he reluctantly (and affectionately) considered friends.

“Damn, Kacchan, you look like shit!” Pikachu laughed, slapping him on the back. It was only his fast, awesome hero reflexes that kept Katsuki from literally collapsing from what was, for all intents and purposes, hardly more than a friendly pat. God, hero training was going to suck if fucking Pikachu could knock him that far off balance without even using his Quirk. Katsuki growled at him when he ruffled his hair and righted himself, heat rushing to his face at the stumble.

“Don’t be mean, Denki!” Tape Arms said, hands clasped over his heart in mock concern, “Have you no sympathy for a clearly dying man?”

“You know what? Fuck both of you,” Katsuki responded and flipped them off before walking away, leaving them cackling. If he was anywhere near well-rested, he might’ve punctuated it with a few crackles in his palms, but as it was, he couldn’t be fucked about it. Whatever, he’d have the last laugh when he refused to feed their useless asses. Serve them right. 

He prepared himself a simple breakfast of tamago kake gohan, too tired to cook anything else, and was just starting to dig in when he felt the intense body heat of a very particular someone sitting on his right side. 

“That looks good,” Todoroki said, “Can I have some?” 

“What the fuck?” Katsuki asked, whipping his head around to stare at his utterly shameless companion, “Make your own!” 

“I don’t know how, Bakugou,” Todoroki responded, staring blankly back, “And you told me you’d kill me if I missed breakfast. You know, last night-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki  hissed, gripping Todoroki’s left forearm tightly, looking around frantically to see if anyone was watching their exchange. Luckily, everyone else was either occupied with their own breakfast or finishing homework. Todoroki flared his temperature and Katsuki yanked his hand back, teeth gritted against the heat. 

“I swear I won’t tell anyone,” Todoroki said quietly, “I wouldn’t do that to you, but promise me the same thing. I’m not ready for everyone to know either.” 

The instinctive insult died on Katsuki’s tongue as he looked at the way Todoroki’s blank face had his brow twisted and furrowed slightly. Not enough that anyone outside of Class 3-A would notice, but enough that Katuski could tell he was worried. He didn’t like it. 

“Wipe that look off your face, IcyHot, I ain’t saying shit,” Katsuki replied, turning back to his breakfast, “And fucking fine, I guess if you’re so useless that you can’t make the simplest dish on the planet, go get a bowl of rice and an egg and I’ll show you. Dumbass.” 

While Todoroki was in the kitchen (hopefully not fucking up everything he touched), Deku and Pink Cheeks finally made their appearance, holding hands and smiling bashfully, a blush high on both of their cheeks. The rest of the class dissolved into excited chatter, immediately crowding the new couple to interrogate and congratulate them. Katsuki’s stomach twisted at the sight, at this picture-perfect couple, and he shoved his chair back and stomped into the kitchen, bowl clutched tight in his smoking hands.  Todoroki stared at him, chewing on his lip with his own bowl of rice frozen to his hand, ice creeping up the side of his face, a sight that would’ve made Katsuki laugh if he himself wasn’t on the verge of angry tears or blowing something up. He did Aizawa-sensei’s breathing exercises, in and out slowly, and stopped his hands from exploding at the last minute. 

“The hell are you staring at, Halfie?” Katsuki spat. 

“Spar with me after class,” Todoroki answered, apropos of nothing, his flat voice taking on an edge of… something .

“What? Don’t you get your ass beat enough during training?” Katsuki asked, baffled. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” Todoroki responded, ice creeping further over his face, “I just had to listen to Kirishima ask Ashido to move in with him after graduation and watch her kiss him and cry over it.  I need to hit something and I think you do too.” 

Katsuki vaguely recalled Kirishima talking about his plans during one of his long, lovestruck Mina Rants a few days previously. Hell, he might’ve even mentioned it during their run that morning when Katsuki was lost in his own head. 

“So why are you asking me?” Katsuki said eventually, “Ask fucking Deku or literally any of your other friends.”

“Izuku’s busy with his girlfriend,” Todoroki responded, a hard edge in his voice, “Besides him, you’re the only person I can go all-out with without risking killing them. Anyway, what are you going to do tonight otherwise? Destroy all of Cementoss-sensei’s pillars and still want to blow someone up?” 

Damn it, the IcyHot idiot was right. Pillars, obstacles, even robots couldn’t compare to full-on fighting another human, particularly someone of Todoroki’s caliber. His blood already started to sing at the thought of a no-holds-barred spar with someone who could match him blow for blow. 

“You’re on, Half and Half,” he responded with a grin, “Now heat up your fucking rice so I can show you what a champion’s breakfast looks like.” 

Hours later, Katsuki began to regret his bold claim as he dodged yet another torrent of flame being fired at him, sweat dripping from his brow. IcyHot wasn’t fucking kidding when he said he wasn’t going to hold back and Katsuki’s arms were aching from overuse as their spar neared the thirty minute mark without slowing down or stopping. Todoroki wasn’t doing much better, his shirt blackened and tattered from Katsuki’s explosions, steam pouring out of his mouth as he panted and desperately tried to regulate his body temperature. Gym Gamma was nearly destroyed, all of Cementoss-sensei’s careful creations blown to smithereens or broken up by huge waves of ice (as third-years in good standing and matched ability, Cementoss-sensei had allowed them to use the building without supervision as long as they promised to call him immediately if there was a serious injury). It was exhilarating, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a burst of wild laughter as he sent another huge explosion toward the pillar Todoroki was lurking behind, wincing at the pain. He was at his Quirk limit without his support gear and could tell Todoroki was too as the other boy fired off a wave of superheated blue flame, his new ultimate move. Katsuki’s memories of similar blue flame weren’t great, but he could appreciate the absolute guts of steel it took to take a move so heavily associated with your family’s very public traumatic past and make it your own. 

Todoroki staggered over to him and dropped into a hand-to-hand fighting stance, swaying as he did so. 

“Motherfucker, are you serious?” Katsuki panted, dropping into his own stance, “You’re not going against me hand-to-hand on less than two hours’ sleep. Waste of my fucking energy just to pin you in thirty seconds.” 

“Scared, Bakugou?” Todoroki taunted, smirking, “I’ll have you pinned in ten.” 

Katsuki growled and lunged blindly; Todoroki dropped low and clumsily tried to sweep his legs, missing. Todoroki lost his balance and landed hard on his side, while Katsuki tripped right over him and collapsed on his stomach on the ground, breathing hard. The finest heroes of their generation, everyone. 

“You’re crazy, IcyHot,” Katsuki said, too drained of energy to even get back up. 

“Maybe that’s our problem,” Todoroki responded, “We’re in love with two very nice straight guys and we’re, uh-”

“Gay and insane?” Katsuki finished, swallowing his hurt, “I don’t want to talk about this, I came here to forget.” 

“Well, I can’t!” Todoroki shot back, sitting up to look at him, “I can’t forget. I thought I was over it, that I was over him, and everything just flooded back today. I know you aren’t good with emotions but-”

“Oh, and you are?” Katsuki interrupted incredulously, sitting up too, “Mr. Blank Face? Mr. Stoic? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Better than you , at least!” Todoroki responded, “In fact, I bet I understand romance better than you too.”

“Prove it, Strawberry Shortcake,” Katsuki said, “I bet I’m better at this whole love and feelings bullshit.”

Todoroki jumped to his feet, sticking out his cold hand to pull Katsuki up. He grumbled and batted it away, getting to his feet by his own damn self. 

“You’re on,'' Todoroki said, “What’s the challenge?”

Katsuki thought for a minute, rubbing his chin. The perfect idea popped into his head. 

“The school festival’s in two months, right? Find me the perfect gay and insane boyfriend by then and I’ll accept your win.”

“Likewise,” Todoroki said, sticking out his right hand, “If you can do it for me, I will publicly declare that you’re better at feelings than I am. I want to add one condition though: nobody else can know about this so we can’t use our friends to cheat.”

It was a great condition and Katsuki was absolutely furious that he didn’t think of it first. He grasped Todoroki’s hand and gave it a firm shake. 

“See you at the finish line when I win, IcyHot,” he said, his teeth bared in a grin. Todoroki let go first, his mismatched eyes narrowed in determination. 

“Wait two months, Bakugou, you’ll be eating your words.”

III. Suggestions Given, Suggestions Declined

As anybody at U.A. would agree, Shouto observed people. Despite what Bakugou claimed were his ‘creepy fuckin’ fish eyes staring at everyone all the time,’ Shouto also knew how to observe people without being noticed. When he lived with his father, reading Endeavor’s moods in a non-obvious way and acting accordingly was a matter of survival. As a first-year high school student, he had never interacted with people his own age before, so quietly watching his classmates became his desperate pastime. Through two years of observations, he learned that Sero liked manga and sharing, Tokoyami had a top secret girlfriend at Shiketsu, Izuku was actually All Might’s real biological son, Shinsou and Koda were planning to sneak a cat into the dorms, Ochako would win every single card or board game unless she was brainwashed, and many other little details of their lives that helped Shouto know how to befriend them. So, he was an observer through and through. 

A week after forming The Bet, Shouto’s keen and entirely, 100% accurate powers of observation had confidently led him to the ideal candidate to fulfill his matchmaking duties. Take that, Bakugou! Now, how to present his evidence and make the other boy admit that Shouto understood romance? He needed to approach this like a spar. He needed a perfect strategy. And for that, he needed to talk to Bakugou alone. 

“Meet me in the library after hero training. Alone.” He had walked up to Bakugou’s desk, slammed his palms down, and stared him directly in the eyes, so there was no possible way anyone could misinterpret his intentions. 

“Heeeeeey, ‘Roki,” Sero chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “Look, whatever Bakubro did, he probably deserves it-”

“Hah?!?”

“But you really shouldn’t fight in the library, man!” 

  “I concur, Sero!” Tenya cut in with a firm chop of his hand, “Fighting at school outside of approved locations and times is wholly inappropriate! Have you no respect for the sanctity of a good studying environment, Todoroki?” 

Shouto blinked at them, then stared back at Bakugou. That article he found online about telepathy told him to clear his mind, then send a message while focusing on the receiver. He took a few deep breaths, then mentally yelled I FOUND YOUR PERFECT BOYFRIEND, BAKUGOU KATSUKI! The article also told him to be patient, so he continued to stare into Bakugou’s vivid red eyes until he understood. 

“You are so fucking dumb, IcyHot,” Bakugou responded after a minute, “Whatever, I’ll meet you for whatever inane bullshit you want. Go away.”

First attempt at telepathy: success! Shouto mentally celebrated and knew he’d be putting this conversation into his notebook of proven theories. Maybe next time he’d try to ask his mom and Fuyumi to make soba for dinner for his next Sunday visit. Content, he settled at his desk and pulled out his notebook for homeroom. 

By the time 4:30 rolled around and school was finally over for the day, Katsuki had showered, re-dressed in his uniform, and was now standing in the lobby of the Kayama Nemuri Memorial Library on the west side of campus. He glanced at his phone and impatiently tapped his foot. What the hell was taking IcyHot so long? Did the moron get lost or something when they were headed to the same place from the same place?

Lackadaisical as always, Todoroki strolled in at 5:00 holding two boba teas from the cafeteria. Keeping the sugary strawberry nightmare for himself, he gave the unsweetened milk tea to Katsuki, who grumbled about the time but accepted it. It was his favorite, after all, and if Half-and-Half was gonna keep him waiting all night for what was sure to be an absolutely idiotic reason, he could take the tea as payment. 

“So, what the fuck was so important that you needed to drag me all the way out here to say it?” Katsuki asked. He took a sip of his perfect tea: cool, earthy, and with just the right amount of milk and boba pearls. 

“It’s about… you know…” Todoroki trailed off, peering at Katsuki intently with his weird fucking mismatched eyes again. Katsuki rolled his eyes to the ceiling and took a couple of deep breaths. 

“No, I don’t know. Spit it out, halfie, or don’t waste my time.” 

“The Bet!” Todoroki stage-whispered, “I found someone for you!” 

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose, then pulled Todoroki by his cold wrist over to a table. 

“Okay, first things first, we need some kind of code because you sound suspicious as fuck. Ears asked me during English why you were planning to murder me here!” 

“I love codes,” Todoroki responded in his typical flat monotone, “It’s like we’re undercover or something.”

“We are, but fucking focus for a minute. Let’s make this easy so your baby brain can handle it,” Katsuki said, cutting IcyHot off when he tried to protest, “One of us throws out a name, and the other will respond ‘1’ for gay, ‘2’ for insane. ‘Bar’ means no, ‘plus’ means yes. Got it?” 

“I think so?” Todoroki responded, taking a loud slurp of his nasty drink, “Neito Monoma.”

Katsuki scoffed and wrinkled his nose. 

“Are you fucking kidding? Absolutely not, bar 1, plus 2. Disgusting, IcyHot, I thought you wanted to win?” 

Todoroki looked shocked, which meant that his stupid eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and his tiny mouth parted. Luckily, Katsuki was a great damn hero and could observe the change instantly. 

“Really, bar 1? There’s no way.”

“He’s with that… that one chick,” Katsuki said, “The one with the hands.”

“Lots of girls have hands, Bakugou.” Todoroki blinked slowly like a cat, absolutely head-empty as always. Katsuki forcibly reminded himself that killing a classmate was frowned upon. 

“Fuck off with that, you’re being dense on purpose. The ginger? Ponytail’s sworn blood rival or whatever.” 

“Oh, Kendou? I thought she was plus 1 too,” Todoroki replied mildly, rubbing his chin in that brainless way of his. Katsuki privately agreed, but like hell he was going to admit that and encourage IcyHot’s particular brand of wild theories. 

“ Anyway, you’re still a loser,” Katsuki said, pushing up from the table with a bang, “Try harder next time or don’t bother. I’m going to dinner, bye or whatever.”

“What are you making? Can I have some?” Todoroki asked as he stood and grabbed his own book bag. Utterly. Shameless. 

“Spicy curry over rice and I fucking guess, you bastard. Hurry up or else.”

After all, Katsuki couldn’t enjoy his imminent victory if his competitor was dead from malnutrition because all he ate was candy and shitty instant noodles. If was going to beat Todoroki at this game, and he definitely would, he wanted his rival at his best. So Katsuki supposed he could let IcyHot tag along to dinner like the stray cat he was, just this once.

The finger on the monkey’s paw closed and over the next week, Todoroki seemed to be everywhere . 

“Pair up with me, Bakugou,” he said on Thursday during English class, “Oh, and Tsuburaba Kousei.” 

“Bar 1, bar 2,” Katsuki responded, forcefully ignoring the way Mic-sensei and a couple of their classmates looked at the pair of them curiously. He sighed deeply and scooted his chair over so IcyHot could share his desk while they worked on their cloze exercises. Whatever, Kirishima was busy with Raccoon Eyes and Deku with Pink Cheeks, so it was only natural that he and IcyHot work together. Better him than any of the other extras, anyway, and Todoroki was decent enough at English if Katsuki had to work with someone.

Okay, Katsuki could admit that maybe, just maybe, he and IcyHot had been spending an excessive amount of time together. It was, as Aizawa-sensei would say, only rational that they paired up in class. Or sparred during training. He’d never admit it, of course, but the asshole wasn’t even that bad to study with after school if he shut up about cats he saw on his work study patrol and focused. And anyway, how else were they supposed to compete in The Bet? Time with Todoroki was a sacrifice Katsuki was willing to make if it meant winning. Lunch with the gaggle of jesters he reluctantly called friends, however, was crossing a line that he didn’t realize existed. 

“What the hell do you want?” Katsuki asked the dual-colored idiot when he plopped his happy ass next to him at the lunch table and slurped his boring soba like he belonged there. Todoroki blinked at him and continued to slurp. 

“I want to eat my lunch,” he responded, “Is that a problem for you?”

Before Katsuki could snap back at him, the rest of his idiots joined them. He growled when Pikachu ruffed his hair and let his palms crackle when the moron giggled. It was a flicker, something that only an incredibly perceptive amazing hero would notice, but Katsuki saw a tiny hint of sadness pass Todoroki’s blank face when Kirishima put his arm around Mina and tucked her close to his side. Katsuki subtly jabbed him in the ribs, which made him wince but at least got that look off his face. 

“‘Roki! To what do we owe this immense pleasure, dude?” Tape Arms asked. Pikachu cackled. 

“Here to threaten the precious life of our beloved Kacchan again?” 

“Can you two clowns shut the fuck up for once? You’re ruining the flavor of the udon,” Katsuki grumbled, only making them laugh harder. He gave them his most intimidating glare but goddamn it, the circus had been immune since first year. Todoroki hummed and took another slurp of his soba; he turned back to Katsuki and stared at him, ignoring the strange looks he was garnering. Maybe, instead of questioning Todoroki’s mere presence, the Foolish Inquisition could question why IcyHot had his hair blended together and braided neatly over his shoulder instead of his usual half-up, half-down style. A truly appalling mystery as Katsuki was positive Half n Half couldn’t have done it so perfectly himself. 

“Toogata Mirio,” Todoroki said out of the blue. 

“Plus 1, plus 2, but no. Suneater would take me out and we both know it,” Katsuki answered. Todoroki nodded thoughtfully and continued to pick through his bowl. At the sound of his senpai’s name, Kirishima stopped kissing Mina for a minute and perked up with a crease between his brows. 

“Amajiki-senpai? Is he okay? Is Lemillion?” Kirishima asked, worrywort as always, “He usually texts Fat and me if something’s wrong.”

“He’s fine, sweetie, he would definitely text you,” Mina added, patting her boyfriend on his giant bicep, “Not that this isn’t fun and all, Bakubabe, but what are you two even talking about?”

Katsuki watched Todoroki take a deep breath and get that look on his face. The look that promised that the next words out of his mouth would be psychologically traumatizing and terrible for everyone in the vicinity’s general well-being. Slowly, he set his chopsticks down on his tray and lifted his right hand; Katsuki braced himself for the devastating impact. Then, he placed his fingertips on his face so his hand spanned its surface and looked dramatically over his shoulder, away from Katsuki. 

“It’s a secret! ✩” Todoroki said in his deep, deadpan monotone. The circus erupted into absolute chaos and Katsuki cursed Todoroki’s mentor for convincing him that he should try comedy.  

Several floors up and down the hall, Aizawa Shouta sat at his desk in 3-A’s classroom, staring baffled at the very concerned work email he had just received from his husband about two of his top students. For once, Midoriya wasn’t involved in the incident, but a potential safety concern centered around Bakugou and Todoroki was not something he could take lightly. He sent the two boys a message to meet him immediately, and less than 5 minutes later the pair were in front of him. Strangely, they arrived together and stood side-by-side in front of him.

“You needed us for something?” Bakugou asked, arms crossed and feet planted in a wide stance. Todoroki shifted his weight from one foot to the other and played with the end of his braid meekly, as if he didn’t literally tower over the other boy. Aizawa stared at the pair of them with his remaining eye for a long moment, yearning for the intimidation effect that Erasure used to give his students. 

“I’ll give it to you straight. Several students, namely Asui and Iida, and other teachers have come to me with concerns that you are planning to hurt someone,” Aizawa said with a deep sigh, “They’ve mentioned overhearing a list of names and some sort of numerical code, in addition to a death threat from Todoroki toward you, Bakugou, during class. Tell me right now: do you intend to harm yourselves, each other, or anyone else?”

He watched their body language carefully as the boys exchanged a glance. To his surprise, it was Todoroki who chose to speak first. 

“The code is a game, sensei,” Todoroki said with a wide-eyed, faux-innocent stare. Aizawa, immune to this, resisted rolling his eye. 

“Yeah,” Bakugou added, “it’s just a private joke between me and IcyHot. Tell Robo-Prez to cool his jets.” 

Todoroki let out an absolutely horrifying giggle. Aizawa knew in his heart that he should be proud of the stoic boy for finally starting to come out of his shell after three years, but if anything it made him sound more suspicious. Fukukado’s bad influence, certainly. He studied the boys carefully for another minute and resolved to keep an eye on the situation, then dismissed them to finish their lunch break. 

A couple of days later, Shouto’s phone buzzed while he was at his work study with Ms. Joke at ACME Agency. After a quick head-check to make sure he wasn’t missing an active incident, he dipped into an alley and pulled out the device.

LORD EXPLOSION MURDER 👑💥🔪

Windbag from Shiketsu. 

Me 😺

Bar 1, plus 2. How do you not know that he and Camie 

have been dating since the remedial course???

LORD EXPLOSION MURDER 👑💥🔪

Fuck off. 🖕

Shouto smiled in spite of himself and resumed his patrol. 

IV. Asking For A Friend

“Sensei, I can go by myself,” Shouto groaned, “I’m almost a Pro Hero, what’s going to happen?”

“Absolutely not,” Aizawa-sensei responded, “School policy states that you need to be accompanied by a teacher for a trip like that, especially a potentially dangerous one.”

“I am solely responsible for Ms. Joke’s patrol zone for three days a week while she teaches. I can handle a 3 hour train ride to visit my brother,” Shouto protested.

“Joke’s irresponsibility and inability to balance her time have nothing to do with me. I won’t intrude on your visit, but I’m coming with you today and that’s final. Take it or leave it.” 

“Fine, sensei.” 

Meanwhile, back at the dorms, Bakugou Katsuki sat at his desk, a notebook in front of him surrounded by crumpled up pieces of paper. He propped up his head on his elbows, lightly scratching his calloused fingers across the soft fuzz on the shaved back as he stared at the many crossed-out names on the page. This shouldn’t be so fucking difficult! Like yes, he knew that Todoroki was objectively a catch and turned down at least one girl’s love confession every week, but where did he get off on being so damn picky about the guys Katsuki chose for him? 

Katsuki… Katsuki couldn’t be bad at this whole romance thing, right? It’s not like IcyHot was any better with the laughable and frankly fucking insulting suggestions he threw out at Katsuki on the regular. No, Katsuki could definitely do this. He just needed, uh, research. Yeah, that was it. As one of the top students in 3A, Katsuki knew how to do research and ask the right questions. An expert opinion would be ideal, but who? Katsuki didn’t really know any other gay people besides IcyHot himself and… he threw his head back and groaned in frustration. There was one person who fit the 'gay and insane' bill that he could talk to, but it was going to be so annoying. 

Ten minutes later, he found himself cursing under his breath as he raised his fist to knock on the door of the apartment that Present Mic shared with Aizawa. Thank the fucking gods that his homeroom teacher was off on some bullshit outing with IcyHot so he wouldn’t have to look the man in the eye and rope him into what was certain to be a humiliating conversation. He banged on the door three times and it opened to reveal a pair of vivid crimson eyes behind a curtain of white hair staring up at him from the ground. 

“Hi, Kacchan! Why are you here?” the little girl inquired, fiddling with the green bunny plushie that Ponytail had made for her. He resisted rolling his own red eyes at the nickname; Deku had introduced Eri to the whole class using their hero names back in first year, but as Katsuki didn’t have a hero name yet, Deku’s babyish nickname stuck with her. And Katsuki was a dick, but he wasn’t enough of a dick to demand that Eri call him by his hero name when she was clearly comfortable calling him something else. It’s not like the nerd ever called him Dynamight anyway. 

“Hey, Eri-chan. Listen, is Mic-sensei around?” he asked, careful to keep his naturally loud, rough voice as quiet and gentle as he could make it. Though it had been almost two years since she had been rescued from the yakuza, she still got very scared when men other than Present Mic raised their voices around her and again, Katsuki wasn’t that much of a dick. 

“Yeah, he’s here,” she said, then ran back inside, leaving the door open. Katsuki stood there awkwardly for a minute or two until Present Mic appeared in the doorway in his civilian clothes, regular prescription glasses on his face and his long blonde hair tied back in a bun at the base of his neck. As usual, he had a grin on his face, but it was marred by a twist of confusion or apprehension in his brow. 

“‘Sup, listener?” he asked, louder than necessary considering Katsuki was like a foot away from him, “Something I can help you with?” 

“I got something to ask you,” Katsuki said through gritted teeth, “And it’s fucking humiliating so let me in.”

Mic-sensei’s weird tiny eyebrows shot up his giant forehead to his banana-yellow hairline.  He stepped back from the door and Katsuki trudged after him, flopping down on the sofa by the chair that Mic had clearly been using to grade English papers. Things were looking pretty damn atrocious for Tape Arms from what he could see; he’d have to make him study with him before exams. Maybe Todoroki could be coerced into doing it so Katsuki could focus on Kirishima and Raccoon Eyes’ awful chemistry scores. Fuck, was he really planning to willingly spend more time with the bastard?

“Ya know, the old lady is the #1 chart topper for all gross medical questions,” Mic-sensei said, sitting awkwardly in his chair. Katsuki felt heat rush to his face. 

“What the fuck? No!” he spluttered, cheeks burning, “I just, fuck, I just want to know how the hell you ended up with Aizawa-sensei!”

If anything, Mic-sensei’s eyebrows shot higher and a smug, lazy grin started to spread across his face. He settled down further in his chair, long legs sprawled out in front of him, fingers steepled under his chin. 

“Oof, that one hurt,” he laughed, “So someone’s caught your eye, eh, listener? And you came to me for help!”

Katsuki’s face somehow burned hotter and he crossed his arms tightly across his chest.

“I’m asking for a friend, alright?” Katsuki protested hotly, “He’s a human disaster but he’s a picky little princess about guys apparently. No one’s ever good enough for him.”

Mic-sensei shrugged and picked up his stack of papers and pen. 

“I’m positive Eraser has told your class we met in Class 1-A when we were 15,” he said, writing something on Tape Arms’ paper, “It took time, but I eventually annoyed him into being besties with me.”

“I know that ,” Katsuki huffed, “but how did you fucking decide you were it for each other? Was it like an instant thing or…?”

“Not quite,” Mic-sensei chuckled, moving to the next paper, “At first, I just wanted to know everything about the weird, quiet kid who went nuts during battle trials and totally silent in class. You know, he told me that he never understood why someone who likes attention as much as I do would even want to be friends with him at all, but I just did.” 

“And then you started dating or whatever?” Katsuki asked. 

Mic-sensei smiled bitterly. 

“Not yet. I was definitely interested but scared he wouldn’t be, and he told me a couple of years ago that he was the same way when we were younger. We were a ‘maybe’ that never happened because, well, we had this friend. Eraser’s probably told you about Shirakumo Oboro, right?”

“Yeah. All For One fucked with his body and turned him into that misty villain, Kurogiri.”

“More than that, Shirakumo was our other best friend and planned future hero partner. He was a superstar hero student, bright and charming and cheerful, powerful and dedicated, sure to be a #1 chart-topper when we graduated. He had one big problem though: he was incredibly selfless and self-sacrificing, reckless even. He rushed into danger without ever thinking ahead and he was killed by a collapsing building during our second year work study.”

Katsuki’s heart thudded painfully at the many, many memories he had of Deku doing the same thing, all of the injuries, all of the times he had been scared out of his mind that the stupid nerd wouldn’t wake up. His annoying feelings aside, what the hell would Katsuki do if he got left behind like that? 

“What happened next?” he asked quietly, looking at his feet. Mic-sensei’s pen stopped and he set down his papers. 

“Our world shattered,” Mic-sensei responded, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, “It was too much for us to handle on our own and we couldn’t- we couldn’t be there for each other. I tried to keep busy and put on a happy face. He trained until his hands bled and stopped talking entirely. After graduation, he disappeared to his home neighborhood to work underground and we barely saw each other until we became teachers, other than to occasionally check if he was still alive.” 

Katsuki was vaguely aware that he was wading into deep, personal question territory and wondered if he should stop. Fuck it, his pride and reputation were on the line. 

“So what, you just didn’t talk for years? How does that translate to ‘married with a kid and three cats’?” 

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” Mic-sensei said, “We came back to U.A. eight or so years ago and, well, we finally talked. About Shirakumo, about how much we missed him, about the two of us. We kept talking and not to get too serious, listener, but I don’t think either of us could’ve survived losing Shirakumo again and more of our friends without support. If he was here, he’d accuse me of getting sappy, but even after years of being alone, the love was still there. The trust was still there. I have his back, and he has mine. For your ‘friend,’ I’d say my hot tip is to find someone you can trust to support you and hold onto them because in this job? You’re going to lose people and it’s going to suck. Does that answer your question?” 

The weirdest memory popped into Katsuki’s head just then: he and Todoroki sitting together under the stars on the dorm roof, not saying much, during the long, horrible nights after Deku disappeared on his mystical bullshit quest during the war. The Bet must be getting to his head, affecting his sleep schedule or something; Katsuki shook his head as if to clear it and coughed. 

“Uh, yeah. Thanks I guess.” He stood up, said goodbye to Eri, and returned to the dorms to make himself lunch, his head spinning.

As Katsuki lay starfished on his bed after he ate, pondering over Mic-sensei’s advice, Todoroki Shouto was signing his name on the visitor’s log at the Yagami Mental Health Institute. 

“Your relationship with Himura-san?” the woman at the front desk asked him when she took his I.D. card, as she always did. Shouto resisted the urge to roll his heterochromatic eyes at her; he knew about all the legal protocols the institution had to follow, but surely they didn’t need to do this every time. Touya only had four people who visited him regularly, after all, and all of them were his immediate relatives. 

“The same as it was last time,” Shouto responded, “He’s my oldest brother.” He ignored the glare Aizawa-sensei shot him for being rude. The front desk lady handed over his visitor badge and his I.D. 

“I’ll send a nurse to tell him you’re here. And you, sir?” she asked Aizawa-sensei. 

“I’m Todoroki Shouto’s homeroom teacher and serve as his guardian,” Aizawa-sensei responded, “I have other business to attend to in Osaka today. I’ll be back in a half-hour and wait out here until he’s done. Todoroki, if you need anything at all, you have my number.” 

Shouto nodded at him and Aizawa-sensei left, blending in perfectly in his dark civilian clothes. Shouto envied him; even as a third year student, his looks and Quirk were distinctive enough that people immediately recognized him on the street. On the train journey alone, he had been asked for photos at least three times and Aizawa-sensei was supremely unhelpful, clearly holding back laughter as Shouto tried his best to smile for the selfies and make small talk. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” the nurse that had been sent said when she returned, “Himura-san is ready for you now.”

Shouto took a deep breath and followed her through the doorway, back to the comfortable, sunny room where Touya had lived for the past year and a half. During the war, Touya was injured so badly that he spent six months in the Musutafu hospital, in stasis in a regenerative bacta tank, before he was deemed healthy enough for regular healing Quirks and physical therapy. Shouto had visited him every Sunday and day off then, often with Fuyumi or their mom. Even though he was technically in a coma, Touya said that he remembered hearing their voices around him all the time even if he couldn’t quite understand their words through the glass, thick bacta solution, and the heavy painkillers as his nerves were finally restored. Though their mom fought hard to keep Touya closer to home and his family, the government had deemed the Yagami Mental Health Institute the best, most secure place to continue his physical recovery and receive mandated intensive psychiatric care. 

“Touya-nii?” he called softly, knocking on the door. He heard shuffling and a muffled curse behind it before it opened and there he was, his big brother. Touya. 

Shouto hadn’t had time to visit him in a few months, so his brother’s appearance was a bit new. It looked like the Quirk suppressant medication had continued to do Touya well, even though he and Shouto had initially been skeptical about it. Even if it wasn’t court-mandated, Natsu had advised Shouto that from a medical standpoint, bringing Touya’s fire down to a level his body could handle was the only way their brother would live to see thirty. For starters, now that his flames weren’t eating him alive, he’d put some weight on his skinny frame and looked more like a healthy, albeit lean, 26-year-old man and less like a walking skeleton. The way his body finally accepted the skin grafts was an added bonus, leaving his seams healed, his staples removed, and his scarring smoother and a dark maroon like Shouto’s own.

“Well, well, come to see me at last, baby brother?” Touya asked, gesturing him inside, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I could never forget you,” Shouto said, frowning a little, “I’d visit every day if I could. By the way, Natsu-nii said to tell you he’s sorry he can’t come by today but he’s stuck covering someone on clinicals.”

Shouto took a seat on one of the two wooden chairs at the little table by the biggest window, the shelf of which held Touya’s impressive cactus garden. He wondered idly if they were very difficult to take care of and if one would look nice in his dorm room next to his bamboo plant. Touya grabbed two bottles of Pocari Sweat, handing one to Shouto, and took the other chair. 

"Your hair looks nice," Touya said, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. Shouto played with the end of his braid. 

"Thanks, my friend Tsu did it. Do you like the blanket mom sent? She wants to know."

Shouto followed Touya's gaze over to the soft blue knitted blanket spread neatly over his bed. 

“Tell her I love it. Besides running messages for Natsu and mom, what brings you here, then?” Touya asked, lighting a cigarette with a weak yellow flame from his pinkie. He offered Shouto the pack as well but he shook his head and declined. 

“Well,” Shouto began, “I’ve got this… friend with some relationship problems. He’s in love with someone who doesn’t love him back and I’m trying to help him move on. I need advice because none of my suggestions are good enough for him apparently.”

Touya snorted and exhaled a plume of smoke. 

“And you came to me for help? Why not Yumi or Natsu? Fuck, Shou, both of them are literally married . I am not the guy for normal romance tips.”

Shouto furrowed his brow and tried to steady his breathing. Okay, so he’d come out to Kirishima when he asked him out in second year, and he’d come out to Bakugou that night in the common room, but he hadn’t told anyone else. It was going to be fine. Touya wasn’t going to get angry or mean. 

“Fuyumi-nee and Natsu-nii are great, but they aren’t… like me. And you. And my friend.” Shouto shifted uncomfortably and stared at the table. “Gay, I mean. And I’m not looking for normal anyway.”

“Oh,” Touya said, blue eyes wide, “Huh, another thing we have in common. So like, what do you want to know? I can’t promise how useful anything will be since my boyfriend’s in a different prison and I haven’t seen him in person in two years.” 

“They’re not prisons, Touya-nii.” 

“Life tip, little Shou: any building where you can’t leave is a prison. You grew up in that bastard’s house too, you know this- ooh, that reminds me,” Touya said, jumping to the next train of thought as he often did, “Apply that tip to relationships too. ” 

“Your boyfriend just let you leave whenever you wanted when you were on the outside?” Shouto asked. Touya smiled a little and took another drag, eyes far away. 

“He never, ever tried to control me or force me to stay with him. I would have burned him alive if he tried. I had complete freedom to go wherever I wanted, do whatever I wanted, keep whatever secrets I wanted. He didn’t even know my real name until I told the whole damn world and never pushed me about it past our first meeting. Relationship tip number two: pick someone who will respect your boundaries.”

“That’s actually kind of mundane for two people who spent almost a year together destroying society,” Shouto said bluntly, “I was expecting something crazier.” Touya laughed at that and took a sip of his drink. Shouto copied him. 

“What can I say? Villainy is really damn boring a lot of the time and the not-boring parts are so hard and stressful and painful that you start to miss the quiet nights drinking together in your shitty hideout and the way he looks when he wakes up all sleepy and cute in the morning. Relationship tip number three: life sucks a lot, find someone you can be boring with. You want to know what we did during our last video call? We just talked and drank and played cards the way we used to. Well, it’s not like we could’ve done anything more fun, if you catch my drift, but the point still stands. God, I hope they trust us enough now that our in-person meeting next month is unmonitored.” 

Shouto flushed scarlet and swatted his brother on the arm. 

“Ew, Touya-nii, don’t be gross!” he groaned. Touya’s grin spread further across his face. 

“Well, baby brother, one day you too will be a gross adult and miss the love of your life with every fiber of your being. When we get out, I want to see him every day until the day one of us bites it. Relationship tip number four: you should be a tiny bit obsessed with and fully fucking devoted to each other. It keeps things exciting and if you wouldn’t destroy the world for them, what’s the point?” 

“This is why your communication is monitored,” Shouto said, “Have you tried talking to him with telepathy? It works, trust me.”

Touya hummed, considering it. Or maybe he was sending his boyfriend a message? Shouto would have to print out the article and bring it to him during his next visit. 

“Let’s see,” he said, counting on his fingers, “We’ve got freedom, respect, love in boring times, obsession and devotion, what else? Hmm. Oh! Trust. If we didn’t trust each other, we never would’ve gotten anything done and probably would have killed each other at some point. Relationship tip number five: you’ve gotta find someone you trust to have your back.” 

“That’s a lot of tips,” Shouto replied, “So you’re planning to stay with him when you get out then?” 

Touya smiled again, soft this time and drummed his long fingers on the table. 

“Yup. Moving out to the countryside, just the two of us and maybe a dog 'cuz he wants one. We’re sick of the cities, of heroes and villains and all that bullshit. If I never step foot in Tokyo again it will be too soon.”

Shouto frowned again, his mind quickly spiraling. He was going to be a hero and heroes, by nature, worked in cities. With his Quirk and training, he would probably go to Tokyo or another big city after graduation. Fuyumi worked in Musutafu and their mother lived nearby. Natsuo worked in Osaka. If Touya went to the countryside, how would they be able to see him all the time? No. No! Shouto just got his brother back after over a decade and now Touya wanted to leave them again? For forever, this time? He felt like he was five again, skin still raw from his new scar, and being dragged into the training room and told his big brother was dead and he would never see him again. His breathing became thin and pained.

"I know what you're thinking, Shou, and it's not fucking like that," Touya sighed, carefully laying his hand over Shouto’s shaking warm one and squeezing it to ground him, "Your face shows everything. We're thinking about a place near one of the villages an hour or so outside of Musutafu, not Antarctica. S'long as you don't move somewhere like Hokkaido, you can visit us whenever or we can visit you." 

Something about the hand squeeze and Touya’s careful plan made the inside of Shouto’s chest hurt, but in a good way? He knew his brother would be close to thirty when he was released, his boyfriend only a few years younger, but all of a sudden, Touya seemed impossibly adult. His phone buzzed, distracting him from this unfamiliar tide of emotions welling up behind his eyes. 

LORD EXPLOSION MURDER 👑💥🔪

oi don't forget about the spar you promised me tonight

Or are you scared? 

Shouto smiled at his phone and fired back a quick response, utterly oblivious to the raised eyebrows Touya was giving him.

                                                          Me 🐱 

                           Keep telling yourself that. 

                           I'll be back by 7. 

"Let me guess: your 'friend'?" Touya asked with air quotes, smirking. Shouto flushed scarlet again.

"Shut up, nii-san," Shouto groaned, "It's just Bakugou.  He's, um, the one you um-"

"Kidnapped?" Touya asked bluntly, drumming his fingers again. 

"Yeah, him."

"Ah, the things we do for love," Touya sighed wistfully. 

"I wish you wouldn't," Shouto said, standing from the table and gathering his bag, "Also, you and your boyfriend should apologize to him." 

Touya hummed in thought and, pushing back from his table, walked over to his door to show Shouto out. 

"He probably doesn't want to see us in person. If we write him a letter, will you deliver it next time you visit?" 

Shouto nodded with a small smile. 

"I'll bring you udon next time too." 

This made Touya beam in that way that looked so much like their mom the day Endeavor’s custody was removed and she was free from the hospital. He hugged Shouto the only way two people completely unused to non-violent physical contact but trying their best could: tightly, slightly awkwardly, and a few seconds too long. Shouto wasn't complaining though; as far as he was concerned, he and Touya could indulge in all the hugs they wanted after over a decade without them. 

"Oh, by the way," Touya said once he had released Shouto, "They're letting me get a therapy cat next year and said I could go pick one out from the shelter as long as I have supervision or whatever. Do you maybe wanna go with me?" 

Shouto gave him a twin beam. Cats were the best! But, more importantly, Touya had progressed to a place where he could be both trusted to go out for the day and trusted with the daily care of another life besides his cacti. Something warm settled in Shouto’s bones. His brother was going to be okay. 

"I'd love to, Touya-nii," he replied, "See you later."

He closed the door behind him and Touya disappeared from view. Shouto readjusted his bag on his shoulder and walked down the long hallway to meet Aizawa-sensei in the lobby. 

Several hours later, Yamada Hizashi heard the loud slam of his front door being closed and looked up from the stack of papers he was grading for Class 2B to see his exhausted husband toeing off his civilian boots in the genkan. Yamada brightened instantly, the lethargy from hours of grading instantly forgotten as he lay eyes on his beloved. 

"SHOOOOOO-" he cried, then was instantly silenced by a red glare and soft dark hair that threatened to escape its low bun. 

"Don't start with me," Shouta said, "I had to help fend off a hoard of Todoroki's screaming fangirls on the train back from Osaka. I have never seen a boy give off more 'uninterested, leave me alone' signals and yet. And yet." 

"Well, my favorite listener, do you want to hear about a fascinating conversation I had today with another one of your superstars?" Yamada teased, knowing it would draw his husband's interest. Despite all appearances and frequent declarations of not giving a damn about his students' personal lives, he knew Shouta liked to know absolutely everything going on with the children in his care. 

"Is it about Shouji's advertising offer?" Shouta asked, "I hope you reminded him that U.A. students aren't allowed to appear in commercial advertisements, even for a good cause." 

Yamada agreed, even if the National Campaign Against Mutant Discrimination was an important cause that deserved a fine young hero like Tentacole as the face. Why, Yamada himself didn't even appear in his first stereo speaker ad until a year or two after graduation! The hero students were exposed enough as it is; they could hold off added media attention until they were Pros. 

"Not at all! Get this: Bakugou Katsuki asked me for romantic advice. Yes, that Bakugou."

"You're joking, there's no way."

"I am not!" Yamada protested, "He was 'asking for a friend,' of course, but he wanted to know in detail how we got together. It was honestly kind of adorable! Mr. Explode-Everything-I-Don't-Like has his eye on another boy and he came to little ol' me for help."

His husband was frozen in shock, then an expression of pure horror dawned on his scruffy, handsome face. He groaned loudly, grimacing, and pressed his palms to his tired eyes. 

"Todoroki was asking his criminal brother for romantic advice about a boy too, also 'asking for a friend.' I don't need this," Shouta grumbled. Realization struck him like lightning and his trademark Present Mic grin spread across Yamada's face. 

"You don't think-"

"God, I hope not. The pair of them barely have a grasp on platonic friendship and playing well with other children as it is." 

Either way, Yamada couldn't wait to see how this played out. It was certainly going to be interesting.

V. Conversations with Your Straight Best Friend

As he often did, it was during their usual morning run that Kirishima decided to ambush Katsuki. 

"So like, we've all been dying to know what your deal is with Todobro lately?" Kiri asked casually as they looped around the first year dorms, "Sero still thinks he's planning to kill you, Kaminari thinks you owe him money, and I don't know what to think."

Katsuki huffed and sped up, Kiri struggling to keep pace with his added bulky muscle. Tall bastard couldn't even run right, tch. 

"Not a damn thing, hair for brains," he replied gruffly, "Just needed a partner for projects and shit and he sucks less than most of our class, including Tape Arms and Pikachu. Stay out of it."

Kiri gave him a sunny, razor-toothed beam that would honestly be terrifying if it wasn't attached to the personification of a warm hug. 

"Just checking you're safe, dude!" he laughed, "Todobro can be a scary motherfucker when he wants to be!" 

"Fuck off, I can take care of myself," Katsuki grumbled. Kiri clapped him on the back. 

"Of course you can, but as your best friend, worrying is my job." 

Katsuki grumbled again and continued his run, pondering Mic-sensei's advice from the weekend. Someone IcyHot could trust, huh? Katsuki himself trusted very few people with his life-- Aizawa-sensei, Iida, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, fucking Deku, and yeah, IcyHot he guessed-- and even fewer with his gross emotions (Aizawa-sensei, his dad, fucking Deku again, and Kirishima of course). IcyHot needed someone dependable, someone steady and solid to counter all the bullshit life had thrown at him. When Katsuki put it like that in his mind, there was only one man for the job. 

"Mezou Shouji," he said in a low voice when he grabbed IcyHot’s cold wrist as he passed by him on the way to his desk for homeroom. The low voice was irrelevant because Katsuki fucking forgot about his classmate's advanced hearing; Shouji whipped his head up and stared at the pair of them. 

"Did you… need something, Bakugou?" he asked in his measured, deep voice. Dependable. Steady. Solid. 

"It's nothing," Todoroki replied, lying far smoother than Katsuki ever could, "We were just talking about matchups we don't get to try often enough. Our attacks are both naturally so loud that it would be impossible to sneak past or surprise you." 

The mouth at the end of one of Shouji's arms quirked up into a smile. 

"Thank you," he said politely, "If you guys want, you should try fighting me and Jirou during the next 2v2 training. I admit I'm curious what my new FuseFist special move will do against Todoroki’s ice." 

"And I want to see if Heartbeat LockLoad works as good on flyers as it does ground opponents!" Ears cut in, staring pointedly at Katsuki. He suppressed a shudder; Ears' new artillery-style ranged attack knocked Metal Kirishima out for 2 hours during their last joint training and that was with his Quirk activated. If she targeted and hit him mid-air, he could only hope the ground wasn't too far away. 

"We'll keep that in mind," Todoroki said, finally taking his own damn seat at the back of the room. Katsuki grimaced at the very audacity of IcyHot speaking about the pair of them as a unit or some bullshit. Katuski was an individual, dammit! His phone buzzed. 

Halfie Bastard 

Unsure on 1, bar 2. I think he and Hagakure might have a thing going on but idk, seems a little sus since I thought she and Ojiro were together. 

                                                           Me

                                                    'Sus'

                                  Who taught you that? 

       Who have you been hanging out with?

Halfie Bastard

Kaminari 

                                                           Me

                         Of fucking course it was. 

             Stop talking to him, he's an idiot

Halfie Bastard 

You know what? I don't think I will. 

Pretty cringe of you to say that 👀

Shouto pocketed his phone and watched his favorite show: Bakugou getting extremely annoyed at a minor perceived slight. The other boy audibly growled and turned back to glare at him; Shouto blinked slowly at him with his signature head-empty expression that he knew drove Bakugou insane. He couldn't help it, poking the bear was a great way to pass the time. He knew how he'd be keeping himself entertained throughout the day. 

In between classes and over text, Shouto threw out increasingly ridiculous and borderline offensive suggestions, watching Bakugou get more and more tense, ready to snap with his palms sparking bright through the gap in his clenched, white-knuckled fists. 

It was during lunch that the tight coil of Bakugou’s admittedly much improved self-control finally broke. Somehow, both Shouto’s and Bakugou’s respective groups of friends had ended up at the same large table in the middle of Lunch Rush's cafeteria. Shouto pointedly did not look at the end of the table where Ashido was cuddled up to Kirishima and poked at his soba, his chest clenching. 

"Are you okay, Shouto?" Izuku asked from across the table, his buff arm wrapped around a nearly-as-buff Ochako's shoulders. Despite having a literal lightening Quirk, she was far and away the strongest girl in the class and a monster at close combat. Even with the close proximity to his girlfriend, Izuku’s big green eyes were filled with concern. 

For a moment,  Shouto considered opening up and telling him about why he got so sad around Kirishima for the past year. Izuku was observant, too observant, and had obviously noticed something was wrong, but Shouto just. Shouto just needed a little more time before telling him. He wasn't scared , per se, as Izuku was generally very kind and accepting, but the admission would change their friendship forever. 

"I'm fine, I just didn't really sleep last night,' Shouto replied, forcing himself to take a bite of his soba. Bakugou turned to glare at him from the right. 

"The hell did I tell you about skipping sleep to watch cat videos? Fucking sort yourself out, you half-and-half bastard!" Bakugou growled. Normally, Shouto would just brush him off, but this time he was already in a bad mood from heartache and his nightmares the night before and the pressure inside his bottle of emotions finally burst out of him. 

"Fuck off, Bakugou," he snapped, "Just for that: Shigaraki Tomura." 

Gasps went up around the table and conversations ground to a halt. 

"Shouto, you can't just say that!" Ochako protested.  

"Not cool, dude," Kirishima cut in coldly, colder than Shouto had ever heard directed at anyone, even villains. Kirishima should never sound like that.

"Shouto!" Tenya shouted, chopping him on the back of the head, "It is unbecoming for U.A. hero students to mock other student's trauma, no matter how angry they are!!" 

"Seriously, what's wrong with you lately? It's not like you to act so cruelly," Izuku admonished, "Kacchan, are you okay? You're shaking."

Shouto suddenly became very aware of two things: the throbbing pain in the back of his head where Tenya had chopped him, and the way the boy next to him was trembling hard. His heart sank; he told himself he would never be needlessly cruel, that he would never be his father, and now look at him, bringing one of his closest friends to tears because of-

A wild peal of laughter ripped Shouto out of his mental spiral and he whipped around, wincing from the pain, to see Bakugou shaking from the loudest, craziest guffaws he had every heard him make, his hands over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle the noise and tears at the corners of his eyes. Bakugou huffed when amused. Bakugou cackled in mockery. But this, these unrestrained, almost childlike giggles that punched their way out of his chest as he heaved in great gasps of air and his shoulders shook? The closest Shouto had ever seen was his sputtered laugh at Camie's glamourous illusion of him during the first year remedial course (Shoto still didn't get what was so funny about it though). 

"Um, Bakubro? You good over there?" Kirishima asked, setting him off again. The surrounding tables had now turned to stare at them too and Shouto’s face burned from the attention as he awkwardly patted Bakugou on the back. He looked to Bakugou's friends for help, but they looked equally as lost. Had Bakugou never lost it like this around them? Sero was the funniest person Shouto knew, surely he would know how to handle this! A glance at the black-haired boy showed his fork frozen on the way to his open mouth, staring dumbfoundedly at Bakugou too. 

"F-fucking IcyHot, what-" he wheezed through his giggles. 

"I think we should call Recovery Girl, it's clear that our classmate has snapped from the mental strain!" Tenya commanded, chopping the air, "Shouto, I hope you're happy with yourself!" 

"I very rarely am," Shouto admitted, "Look, Bakugou, I'm sorry-"

"Don't-Don't you fucking dare!" Bakugou stuttered out, taking a deep breath to get himself under control, "The goddamn audacity of your idiot thoughts is the best part of being around you. Seriously, where the hell did that even come from? "

Shouto, still processing the fact that Bakugou had just complimented him, of all things, almost missed the question. Bakugou snapped his fingers in front of Shouto’s face, his crimson eyes still teary and dancing with mirth. His own mouth quirked up in his equivalent of a teasing grin (in reality, it was a very small curve of his lips that was nearly imperceptible to other people). 

"I have my secret sources," Shouto responded flatly, getting another laugh out of Bakugou, "You didn't answer the question though."

"Plus 1, plus 2, but I'd rather eat my own feet. Tell your 'secret source' that he's safe from me." 

"What are you two fucking talking about?" 

"Language, Izuku," Tenya lectured, "But I agree. It is impolite to have secret conversations in mixed company like this!"

Shouto and Bakugou glanced at each other, shrugged, and continued eating their lunches, blind to the questioning gaze of their classmates around them. 

That evening, Katsuki was startled out of his hyperfocus on his physics homework by a pattern of three quick, sharp knocks, then two slow and heavy on his door. Kirishima, in their 'we need to talk' pattern. Katsuki sighed, cracked his neck, and went to open it. 

His best friend was alone, clearly just showered as his red locks fell damp and loose around his shoulders instead of spiked into his usual modern art sculpture. Katsuki was stunned to see that his big eyes looked so, so sad and his sharp teeth nibbled on his lip in the way they always did when he was nervous. What could he be nervous about? 

"Yeah?" Katsuki asked, unwilling to be more dismissive when Kiri was clearly struggling with something. Best friend privileges and all of that bullshit. 

"Can I come in?" Kirishima asked in a small voice. Suddenly, he seemed very small in general, the 200 cm wall of muscle and red hair suddenly transformed into the skinny, black-haired boy that Kirishima had reluctantly shown him in old photographs. Katsuki's brow furrowed more; Kirishima should never look like that. 

Katsuki made a noncommittal hum and gestured him inside. Kirishima flopped on his bed the way he usually did, making the springs creak, and Katsuki slumped in his desk chair again. Kirishima was silent for a long moment as Katsuki waited for him to spill whatever was on his mind. 

"Hey, Bakugou?" he asked softly, pointedly avoiding Katsuki’s eyes, "We're still best friends, right?" 

Katsuki was confused. Did- Did Kirishima not want to be friends anymore? Had Katsuki finally said or done something to push him away for good? 

"The hell?" he retorted defensively, "Of course we are, why wouldn't we be? You got a problem with me all of a sudden?"

 "No!" Kirishima said quickly, "I thought you didn't want to be best friends anymore! I never see you anymore, man, and then Todoroki made you laugh like that and I just- I just thought you had moved on to someone better."

His eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill down his face and he hugged himself tightly on Katsuki’s bed. Katsuki knew exactly what this was and it pissed him off: that old insecurity that hid behind Kirishima’s loud personality that told him he wasn't good enough. 

"First of all, nobody is replacing you, so get the hair gel out of your brain," Katsuki responded hotly, "Second of all, you were the one who got a girlfriend, so don't fucking blame me for wanting someone else to pair up with in class. And third of all, IcyHot and I, we're... helping each other with something. Tch." 

"Like what, Bakubro? You can tell me anything, man, you know that!" 

Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck. Here it was, the perfect opportunity to tell that last big secret to his best friend had landed in his lap. And Todoroki wouldn't even be upset about it because it was Kirishima, who already knew his secret. Katsuki’s heart started pounding in his chest and he swallowed heavily, eyes fixed on a spot above Kirishima where his motivational All Might poster was. He took a deep, shaking breath, braced his sweaty palms on his knees, and prepared to change their friendship forever.

 "I'm gay. IcyHot knows and we've been talking about it and hanging out a lot or whatever."

It took less than ten seconds for Kirishima to heave himself off Katsuki’s bed and tackle Katsuki into a hug that would've knocked his chair over if it didn't catch on his desk. His palms sparked as he gripped his best friend's broad back, instinctively hardened because he knew that when Katsuki got emotional, he needed to let off little sparks to avoid a big accidental explosion. After a long few minutes, Kirishima pulled back and Katsuki was unsurprised to see happy tears streaming down his smiling face. 

"Bro! That's so manly! Thank you for trusting me with this!"

"It's whatever," Katsuki grumbled, but his heart secretly felt like a weight had been lifted off of it. It didn't have to change anything. Kiri still wanted to be his friend. 

"Soooooo," Kiri said in a teasing tone, wiggling his eyebrows, "Got any guys you're interested in then?"

A hearty laugh followed by an explosion echoed through the fourth floor. 

Upstairs, a very similar conversation was taking place in Todoroki Shouto's room. 

"I just don't see why you can't tell me what's going on with you and Kacchan!" Izuku said from his spot by the kotatsu, throwing up his gnarled hands in frustration, "We never see you anymore, you're having weird conversations, and you made Kacchan laugh like that! Tenya and Tsu think you're planning to do something dangerous and you didn't even invite me to come with and I thought I was your best friend, Shouto, and-"

"Tenya and Tsu worry too much," Shouto said from where he was relaxing on his futon, cutting off the stream of muttering before it could devolve any further. Izuku slammed his elbows on the table and buried his freckled face in his hands, frantically scratching his green curls at his temples.

"Then what , Shouto? I've been going crazy all day and have run every possible scenario and I can't figure it out!" 

Shouto was torn. On one hand, giving Izuku another stress ulcer wasn't something he wanted to do. On the other hand, he had sworn not to talk about The Bet to anyone. After all, it wasn't just his secret, it was Bakugou’s too. 

"It's kind of a huge secret," Shouto said carefully, "I promised not to tell anyone."

"Don't be like that, I thought we were friends. You can tell me anything! Unless you really don’t want to, then I guess it’s okay," Izuku added quickly, waving his hands in front of him.

A very childish feeling of petty glee washed over Shouto. Now Izuku knows how it feels to be left out of a friend's trust and Shouto was very, very tempted to let him suffer. But, then again, this was a great opportunity for Todoroki Shouto, notorious oversharer, to let go of the last secret he held close to his chest. 

"It's not just my secret," he said slowly, "Let me text Bakugou really quick." 

Izuku nodded, eyes wide with interest, and Shouto pulled out his phone. 

                                                         Me 🐱

                   I want to come out to Izuku. 

                   He's demanding answers

                   about why we've been 

                   hanging out so much.

                   Is that okay with you? 

                    I'll lie if not. 

LORD EXPLOSION MURDER 👑💥🔪

 Yeah, it's fine I guess. Surprised the damn nerd doesn't know about me already with his weird notebooks. Just don't mention The Bet. 

Told Kiri about me btw. He cried about as much as I thought he would. 

                                                          Me 🐱 

                                                          K

Shouto put his phone away and turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. He clenched his covers tightly in his fists and focused very hard on not burning or freezing them. This was it, the last moment before things were permanently altered between them. He hoped Izuku would still want to be his friend. 

"I'm… gay," Shouto said quietly, "Bakugou is too and, don't worry, he said it was okay to tell you. We've been connecting over it, that's all." 

Izuku gave him one of his signature blinding grins, all traces of stress erased from his face. 

"I'm so proud of you and honored you told me!" Izuku beamed, "I want you to know that I fully love and support you and if anyone is mean to you, I'll use my 'secret abilities' to break their legs!" 

The very real threat combined with Izuku’s usual bouncy joy was such an odd combination that it startled a laugh out of Shouto. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Shouto replied, smiling in spite of himself, "But don't tell everyone, okay? Not even Ochako." 

"Your secret's safe with me," Izuku nodded, "Kacchan's too. I wonder why he didn't want to tell me himself though? I mean, I'd always sort of suspected because he never accepted any Valentine's confessions even before UA and never showed any interest in girls but honestly, I thought he just didn't like anyone. He told you though! I wonder why, not that there's anything wrong with you but he has closer friends and I've known him the longest but Kirishima-"

"You're muttering again," Shouto said, "And he didn't exactly plan to tell me, we were just talking one night and it slipped out."

Izuku looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Do you have a lot of late night conversations with Kacchan?" he asked in a light, indecipherable tone. Shouto didn't know where he was going with this and he didn't like not knowing. 

"Not really? I had a nightmare and went downstairs for tea. He was awake down there and looked like he needed someone to talk to, so we talked for a bit, had tea, and went to bed.  That's all."

"Fuck," Izuku cursed suddenly, "I've told him a million times to come talk to me if he's bottling up his stress until he explodes. What was wrong?"

Shouto frowned. 

"I can't tell you that," Shouto replied, "That's Bakugou’s business and if he wanted you to know, he'd tell you himself.  Leave it alone." 

Izuku studied his face carefully, then hummed when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there. Shouto didn't know what he thought he saw and it made him uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you have each other, you know?” Izuku said quietly, almost to himself, then perked back up, “Ochako’s busy with the girls tonight, so do you maybe want to have a movie night? Just us and Tenya if he’s free?” 

Shouto’s mouth quirked up and he nodded eagerly. It really had been too long since he spent time with any of his friends besides Bakugou, and wasn’t that a funny thought? 

VI. Casual Hangouts For Casual Friends

Katsuki had foolishly thought that manning up and coming out to Kirishima would somehow change things back to the way they used to be before Mina came into the picture. Now, don’t fucking misinterpret him, Pinky was one of his closest friends too, but Katsuki was getting seriously bored of sitting in his room alone. Fuck it, he missed their “bro hangouts,” okay? He might have bitched and moaned about being dragged to various social events, but going from “moderate social interaction” back to “zero social interaction” was starting to bum him out. 

Tonight was supposed to be perfect: he and Kirishima both had the night off from their work studies, their homework was done, and the new arcade that opened a block away from U.A. was running a discount night for heroes-in-training. Tape Arms and Pikachu were unfortunately stuck doing paperwork at The Lurkers’ headquarters, but Kiri was supposed to be free! However, an hour before they were supposed to leave, a single text message ruined Katsuki’s rare good mood. 

Kiri 

Hey bro! I’m so sorry I can’t make it tonight 😭. Mina’s dad is visiting and she wants me to meet him 🙏. We’ll go next week, I promise 🤜🤛

Me

It’s whatever

So this was how Katsuki found himself on the fifth floor of Heights Alliance at 6 p.m. on a Friday night, huffing a breath at the thought of how stupid this all was. There wasn’t even a good excuse for what he was about to do, other than wanting his damn arcade discount but not wanting to go alone. He shuddered; when did he get to the point that goddamn IcyHot became his go-to for company when Kiri was busy, which he often was? Hell world. 

He pounded on the door. 

“‘S open,” a deep, sleepy voice drawled out. Fucking hell, how lazy was the bastard? Katsuki huffed another breath and stormed in, finding IcyHot, predictably, sprawled on his futon like the spoiled housecat he was with a pile of manga and a plate of snacks sitting next to him. He blinked at Katsuki’s loud entrance, but didn’t seem all that surprised to see him.

“Got another perfect boyfriend for me, Bakugou?” Todoroki asked, sounding slightly bored, “Better hurry up, my tea’s getting cold.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Katsuki demanded, then cut him off when it looked like the pretty idiot was about to respond, “Rhetorical question, dumbass, I know medical science doesn’t have a term for you. You wanna go to the new arcade or whatever?” 

Todoroki’s entire face lit up like someone just told him his shitty old man was found dead and he was getting a litter of kittens for Christmas; he scrambled eagerly to his feet, snacks forgotten. Something twisted in Katsuki’s gut at the sight, nausea certainly. 

“Really?” he gasped, breaking his usual monotone in his excitement, “I’ve only been to an arcade once in first year and I always wanted to go again!” 

“The fuck?” Katsuki retorted, “Just how shitty are your friends? They just leave you behind or something?” 

“Well, Tenya doesn’t see the point of arcades, Ochako says they cheat, and Izuku is banned from every arcade in Musutafu so, no?” 

Katsuki’s brain screeched to a grinding halt. 

“Wait, back up: what do you mean Deku is banned? How did that happen?” Katsuki asked incredulously, biting back a laugh. New embarrassing Deku information was an incredibly rare treat for someone who’d known him since they were four and Katsuki was taking advantage. 

“You know back in first year when Izuku couldn’t control his quirk so well?” 

Katsuki nodded, already thrilled with where this was going. 

“He got too excited and accidentally destroyed a machine. Then he pretended it wasn’t him, tried another machine, and the same thing happened again. We got kicked out and tried all the other arcades but, ah, he destroyed over a dozen machines by the time we finally got kicked out of the last one.” 

Katsuki burst out laughing, the image of a much smaller Deku staring forlornly at the many machines he’d totalled was a treasure he’d keep near and dear to his heart for the rest of his life. As was the sight of a stone-faced Todoroki joylessly murdering some extra at Disco Disco Rebellion when they made it to the arcade a half hour later. 

A day or two later, Shouto sat at his kotatsu, glaring at his Advanced Applied Mathematics homework. Geometry was never his strongest subject and now, he knew he would be able to take his ice to the next level in both strength and structure if he could only understand and apply fractals but he just. Couldn’t. Get. It. Right! Growling in frustration, he yanked his hair back into a loose bun at the base of his neck and stared at the paper, hoping the solution to his woes would magically present itself. It did not and he reluctantly admitted to himself that he may need help. 

Izuku was his go-to for Quirk-focused math questions but, hey, he bailed on their study session last-minute because he had a “date” or whatever. Shouto wasn’t irritated. He wasn’t. 

Tenya or Momo were the next logical choices, but he didn’t want to bother Momo right as she got back from her work study as she was typically starving, exhausted, and cranky after a long shift. And Tenya, well, Tenya was a natural-born genius and a stellar student but an awful tutor. Tutoring… a lightbulb went off in Shouto’s head and he quickly gathered his things and hurried down to the room below him, praying Bakugou hadn’t decided to go to bed early. 

He knocked softly and heard the loud music inside cut off. Bakugou opened the door a second later, clad in his usual sweats and an oversized hoodie that could only belong to one of his larger friends. Shouto blinked at him, taking in the soft and uncommonly relaxed sight before Bakugou’s face twisted into his usual grimace. 

“What do you want now, halfie?” Bakugou asked, “I’m not in the mood for one of your dumbass boyfriend suggestions.”

Shouto held up his textbook, notebook, and homework. 

“Do you know anything about fractals? I can’t figure the formulas out and I think it could help make my ice stronger.” 

“‘Course I know about them,” Bakugou scoffed, “What’s in it for me?”

“My love and respect?” 

Bakugou’s cheekbones turned an interesting shade of pink at that and he rolled his pretty eyes. Shouto had never really noticed those eyes before, how they had an unusual ring of dark maroon around intense ruby irises flecked with gold, and immediately averted his own heterochromatic pair, feeling… weird. He must be more tired than he thought. 

“Try again.” 

“There’s a new documentary out about that French circus troupe?” Shouto offered, “They use their Quirks for their stunts and there’s apparently a huge section about aerial fire physics. We could watch it together and try out their advice, if you wanted.” 

The other boy hummed for a minute, considering the offer, and shrugged, then stepped aside and let Shouto into his room. Bakugou sat on his bed and impatiently patted the spot next to him and Shouto sat down, feeling awkward all of a sudden. Awkwardness was not a common feeling for him and Shouto didn’t like it. 

Needless to say, he found it very difficult to concentrate on Bakugou’s assuredly detailed and thorough explanation of fractals, utterly distracted by the sight of Bakugou so relaxed with his big hoodie and messy, soft-looking blond spikes.

They fell into an odd, comfortable sort of routine after that. Katsuki, by nature, was not easily startled. However, he found himself… surprised by how easily IcyHot had weaseled his way into Katsuki’s free time. There was a new penguin exhibit at Musutafu Zoo? Katsuki found himself dragged along so he could stand next to Todoroki as he cooed at the dumb birds and fed them fish by hand. Todoroki’s justification that he felt 'connected to fellow creatures of the ice and snow' was so earnest and so serious that Katsuki didn’t even have the heart to laugh at him.  Katsuki wanted to go hiking one Sunday? As it turns out, Half-and-Half’s naturally quiet personality and similar athletic stamina made him the perfect hiking buddy. When unaccompanied by his loud-ass friends, Katsuki got to quietly observe the animals that normally got scared off and that Todoroki absolutely beamed over when they came near him.  

 It was disgusting how at ease Katsuki started to feel in his presence. And- and look, he already knew Todoroki was handsome, okay? Everybody knew that, he’d known it since they were fifteen, he had working eyes. As Katsuki found out one day when they were at a coffee shop, it was one thing to know it objectively, and another thing entirely to feel it subjectively when IcyHot reminded people that he had strength behind his pretty face and soba-rotted brain. 

“Is that-?” the whispers started, as they often did for hero students of their caliber. 

“Yeah, it’s that scary hero student.” 

 Katsuki sipped his cappuccino and tried to ignore them. He did Aizawa-sensei’s breathing exercises and reminded himself that retaliating always, always made the whispers worse and he did want to get a job in the field after graduation. Even his mentor, Miruko, had stressed the importance of minding his still-instinctive temper when dealing with the public, backed up by a long career of her own negative press. Katsuki stole a glance at Todoroki, whose back was to the whispers, a cap on his head covering his distinctive hair. Katsuki wished he had one too, or maybe he just wanted to disappear. It seemed like no matter how many people he rescued, no matter how many villains he took down, no matter his role in the war, no matter how much better he’d gotten at interviews or photo ops or any of the other “people person” bullshit that came with being a hero, all people saw was the ill-tempered brat he was when he was a first year. Often, he lay awake at night wondering if that was it for him, if even as a pro he’d be haunted by the specters of the first year Sports Festival and his kidnapping. 

“How does a guy like that even get into hero training?”

Todoroki was biting his lower lip, his left fist clenched tightly on top of the table. A stray flame licked across his white knuckles. The confusing tension in his face momentarily distracted Katsuki from the sinking feeling in his gut. 

“You’d think we’d be done with the whole ‘violent psycho hero’ thing after Endeavor-”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” 

The temperature of the coffee shop dropped about 10 degrees as that borderline growl ripped through the air. Katsuki’s head jerked up from his coffee and… oh , Todoroki was pissed. Ice crept up the side of his face and spread across the table beneath his frozen right hand, his delicate brow twisted into a scowl that could rival Katsuki’s own. Fuck, if IcyHot didn’t control himself they’d at least get thrown out of the shop for Quirk use if they didn’t lose their licences. 

“Halfie, stop, you don’t have to-” Katsuki tried, using that soothing baby animal voice Kirishima tried to teach him with limited success. It was all wrong, he wasn’t meant to soothe people, he was too rough and too loud and too violent and-

“No, I won’t stop,” Todoroki spat, voice uncommonly non-monotone for once. He turned to the whispering pair of young men behind their table, frozen in shock at the sight of him but thankfully not ice. Yet. “Listen, as the number one expert in my old man’s abuse, I’m only saying this once. Bakugou Katsuki is a competent, compassionate hero and one of the kindest, most generous people I know. He is one of my greatest friends and anyone who dares to compare him to Endeavor is a goddamn idiot who doesn’t know a single thing about him past the tabloid headlines at the beginning of our first year. Fucking learn to read for once.” 

Todoroki huffed and turned back to his heavily sweetened matcha drink, an angry flush high on his cheekbones. Katsuki stared at him, wide-eyed with his lips parted in shock. Horribly, so horribly, his traitorous heart skipped a beat. 

Time was a funny thing, Shouto thought. After he and Bakugou had started spending their days together, either going on some outing or just hanging out peacefully in each other’s rooms, Shouto gradually stopped noticing time passing them by. He was in for a very rude awakening. 

“Bakubro! Open up!” a loud voice, Kirishima’s, echoed through Bakugou’s door early one evening, accompanied by a loud knock. Shouto currently lay on his back on the floor reading a manga, legs kicked up and resting on Bakugou’s bed while the other boy sat at his desk and quietly made repairs on his heavy grenade gauntlets. Bakugou typically repaired them himself as he ‘didn’t trust that crazy chick from support not to fuck with them’ and Shouto often watched, fascinated as his broad hands fiddled with the delicate wiring. Shouto was already planning to bring his own temperature regulator pack to work on the next time they had a free evening together. 

“We know you’re in there, Kacchan!” Kaminari’s voice joined in. Bakugou sighed and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling, exposing the long line of his throat and collarbones. Shouto gulped; there was that funny feeling again. 

“What the hell do you idiots want now?” Bakugou shouted back. The door burst open and the blaring loud trio of Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero poured in. 

“We just wanted to tell you- ‘Roki?! What are you doing here?” Sero asked. Shouto wordlessly held up his manga and shrugged, sitting up and popping his shoulders. 

“You guys have gotta come down to the common room!” Kaminari said brightly, “We’re voting on what we want to do for our last school festival in two weeks!”

“T-two weeks?” Shouto stuttered. There was no way, he couldn’t even remember the last time one of them had made a boyfriend suggestion and now The Bet deadline was so close? He needed to step up to the challenge if he was going to win this. 

“You’re lying, we’ve got, I don’t fucking know, at least a month before it?” Bakugou added. Ah, so he’d lost track of the time too. Kirishima’s gaze bounced between the two of them with a strange energy that Shouto couldn’t fathom. 

“.... Right,” Kirishima said, “Anyway, come down! Everyone’s waiting!”

“C’mon, Kacchan!” Kaminari whined, pulling on Bakugou’s bicep with an impressive lack of self-preservation, “You and Todobro can literally be boring any other time but we need everyone’s opinion on the plan. All nineteen of us need to agree.” 

Bakugou growled and batted his friend’s electric hands away. Were the two of them boring? Shouto always had a good time when they were together, even if they spent the time in relative peaceful quiet, just studying or working on their own individual activities. Spending time with Bakugou alone was never the social drain that spending time with other people was and Shouto never felt burdened after he left. Regardless of these swirling thoughts, Shouto resolved to put all of his energy into The Bet as the deadline for the school festival crept closer and closer. The weird tightness in his chest when he thought about winning and presenting Bakugou with the perfect boyfriend was irrelevant. 

VII. First Date Disasters

Katsuki sat alone at the restaurant Todoroki had made a reservation for him at, wearing, as per IcyHot’s request, his ‘best clothes’. Now, with two fashion designer parents, Bakugou had a lot of very nice clothes that sat mostly unused in his closet at his parents’ house. He took a moment to reflect on the fact that he had willingly spent his whole day off with his hag mother, being fussed over and teased about his mysterious love life, just because the bastard got the idea in his empty head that Katsuki needed to try out actual dates rather than just rejecting his suggestions outright. Tch, he’d show Todoroki how good he could be at romance, choosing to dress for this moderately nice restaurant date in a well-fitted pair of charcoal trousers and a nice shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. Where was this blind date, anyway? Todoroki wouldn’t say much, but promised the guy was cool. 

“Bakugou, right?” a voice asked. It was, uh, that one guy. The one with the blade arms from 3B. Kaibara? Yeah, that sounded right. He didn’t look half as dressed-up as Katsuki did, wearing jeans and a loose t-shirt as if they were in a pizza parlor and not a nice date restaurant. Did- Katsuki understood the assignment, right? He suddenly felt overdressed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“That’s me,” Katsuki said. Kaibara’s eyes jumped between Katsuki and the only other empty chair at the small table. He raised his thin black brows. 

“No spot for Todoroki? I thought he’d be here since he invited me to ‘have a fun social experience’ and ‘try something new’,” Kaibara said, complete with air quotes and a pretty dead-on imitation of Todoroki’s deep monotone. It sounded like he was mocking Todoroki and hey, only Todoroki’s friends and Katsuki got that privilege! Katsuki carefully kept his face neutral, already disliking Kaibara, and cursed the half-and-half bastard and the hell he apparently crawled out of specifically to torment Katsuki. 

“I guess not,” Katsuki said, playing it as cool as he could, “Since we’re here anyway, you want food?” 

Kaibara laughed, a little too fake, a little too high, a little too tense. He took the seat across from Katsuki and picked up his menu, scanning it with his plain black eyes. In fact, all of him was kind of plain. Handsome enough, surely an ikeman, but nothing about him physically held much interest for Katsuki. Maybe he’d grown too accustomed to unique looks by spending all of his time with IcyHot recently, Katsuki didn’t know. 

“Do you have any idea what he wanted?” Kaibara asked suddenly, “Without him here, we look like we’re on a date or something weird like that. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about me, you know?” He laughed that tense little laugh again. Great, fucking great. Katuski went through all that bullshit at his parents’ house and IcyHot neglected to inform his blind date that this was, in fact, a date. Or verify that he was interested in guys at all, apparently. Katsuki would get Todoroki for this later, but first he needed to save face and hopefully keep Kaibara from suspecting the truth and flipping out. 

“Who ever knows with him?” Katsuki answered vaguely, then decided to change the subject, “So, I don’t really know you. You’re the drill guy, right?” 

The other boy lifted up his hand and spiraled a couple of fingers, a bored look on his face.

“Yeah, and you’re the explosion guy.” 

Katsuki didn’t know how to respond to that and the pair lapsed into an oppressive, awkward silence. For a moment, they were saved by their waiter and ordered their sodas but soon went quiet again. Katsuki cleared his throat and tried to remember the small talk tips that Mina had attempted to beat into his head since first year. 

“What do you do outside of training?” Katsuki asked. The sodas came and the other boy scratched the back of his neck and took a sip from the rim, ignoring the straw it came with. Even Katsuki, with his admittedly limited social skills, could tell that Kaibara looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else.

“I like cameras, I guess.” What the hell was Katsuki supposed to do with that?! 

“Like, taking pictures with cameras, or collecting cameras, or-?” Katsuki asked. 

“Just… cameras, ” Kaibara responded blandly. That was it? Fuck, IcyHot would talk for an hour about his stupid conspiracy theories or his cat friends or whatever manga he and Tape Arms were working through. The difficult part was getting him to shut up, honestly. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Katsuki’s phone buzzed, preventing him from having to think up a response. He was trying his best, but he wasn’t a social miracle worker like Kiri or Mina or Deku or his other friends. Well, besides Todoroki of course, the halfie was also a disaster at small talk. 

Halfie Bastard

How’s the date going?

I’ll take my victory now. 

Me

Save it

You didn’t tell the guy this was a date?!

Fucking soba head 

Worst night of my life including the time your brother kidnapped me. 

Get me out of here. 

Halfie Bastard

K

Tell him something came up with your committee for the school festival. 

The Mad Banquet of Darkness needs a banquet and Satou can’t do it alone

Katsuki exhaled, loosening the tension in his shoulders. He took out his wallet and threw down enough cash to cover both of their sodas. 

“Gotta go, something came up with my class’ school festival planning. See you at training sometime,” he said, then exited the restaurant. Oh, he would have his revenge. He would blow Todoroki’s stupid blind date out of the water and even had the perfect guy in mind. The way his stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought of it was just hunger from not eating at the restaurant, probably. 

Words could not describe how much Shouto didn’t want to be sitting on that park bench alone, waiting for his blind date. If he didn’t feel like he owed Bakugou for the disastrous dinner date he had set up with Kaibara, Shouto would go back to his dorm room to sulk. After all, that’s what he had done the night of Bakugou’s date. His original plan had been to join them for dinner and help the pair get to know each other; however, as he was getting ready, strange, unpleasant thoughts raced through his mind. 

Bakugou, laughing at Kaibara’s jokes. 

Bakugou, holding Kaibara’s hand. 

Bakugou, kissing - 

Shouto’s chest began to hurt again the same, ugly way it had the night of the dinner date as he recalled the memory. He’d chickened out of going to the dinner itself, but there was some petty part of him that was secretly glad for his social ineptitude and confusion about Kaibara’s inclinations. Kaibara, with his stupid scary Quirk and stupid handsome face, still wasn’t good enough for Bakugou anyway. Shouto would find someone better for his friend, someone perfect .

“Hey, man!” a loud, cheerful voice from behind him interrupted Shouto’s thoughts. Was it- no, Bakugou would never be cruel enough to call Kirishima here- would he? He was pretty mad about the date. Shouto turned slowly, then exhaled in relief when he saw a shock of silver hair instead of red. 

“Oh, hello, Tetsutetsu,” Shouto responded, “Are you my date then?” 

The silver-haired wall of muscle smiled brightly and slammed his hardened steel fists together. Shouto suppressed a shudder; the resemblance to Kirishima was truly eerie. He couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered him so much. 

“Hell yeah I am!” Tetsutetsu exclaimed, extending a hand to pull Shouto to his feet, “I gotta say, I was surprised when Bakugou cornered me at the gym yesterday but you’re a stand-up guy, Todoroki!” 

Well, he was certainly nice and obviously comfortable with himself. Shouto could work with that. 

“Thanks,” he responded, “So, uh, you like the gym?”

The other boy laughed loudly. As Bakugou had planned, the two began a steady jog around the park. Shouto had to slow his pace; it seems that Tetsutetsu wasn’t particularly fast. Shouto had fought him enough times in training to know that speed wasn’t his focus, but it was still annoying. When he ran with Bakugou, they could actually race each other at full speed.  

“I practically live there!” Tetsutetsu said, starting to pant, “Can’t let Red Riot show me up in the muscle department. What about you? What’s your gym routine?”

As Shouto explained his normal routine of calisthenics and martial arts, coupled with a lot of running, he realized something: he and Tetsutetsu would never be able to actually work out together as their routines were complete opposites. They could be in the gym at the same time, sure, but they wouldn’t be together , bantering and competing over their reps the way he and Bakugou did. Gods, why couldn’t Shouto get his friend out of his head on his first ever date? Maybe he should switch tactics. 

“What else do you do? Besides the gym,” Shouto asked. That’s what people did, right? Asked questions to get to know each other? Momo said so. 

The pair stopped at a coffee stand and Shouto paid for both drinks. It was a date, after all, and his entire inheritance was available to him. 

“I really love fighting games,” Tetsutetsu said, taking a sip, “The Road Brawler series has been my #1 favorite since I was a kid. What’s yours?” 

Shouto picked at the paper label on the side of his coffee, unsure what the social protocol was for answering this. Should he lie and say it was the popular series Matteo Kart ? He’d played that with Kaminari and Sero and he knew there were versions stretching back to his childhood, so he could probably pretend he knew something about it. But then Tetsutetsu would probably ask more questions and anyway, if he was going to date Shouto he’d have to learn to cope with blunt honesty anyway. 

“I didn’t play video games as a child,” Shouto stated, tone even, “My father didn’t allow me to spend time with my siblings.”

Tetsutetsu stared at him, wide-eyed. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly at a loss for words. He plastered on a blinding, sharp-toothed smile. 

“That’s rough, buddy, but hey, look on the bright side!” he said in an upbeat voice, “I bet that’s why you’re one of the smartest and most powerful people in our year!” 

“..... I guess,” Shouto responded, then took a gulp of his coffee to avoid saying anything more. He wasn’t exactly surprised by that response, given long-term exposure to other positive, sunny people, but he still didn’t appreciate it. Shouto was not a positive, sunny person. He rarely ‘looked on the bright side’ and knew, under the surface, he was made of jagged edges and trauma with poison running through his veins. 

There was only one single person who ever responded to that particular Shouto Fact in a way he wanted, one person who understood how it was connected to the entire scope of his hellish childhood, one person that actually made Shouto feel both seen and supported. 

He and Bakugou had been studying one night in the middle of second year. Maybe Shouto’s friends were busy or something, Shouto couldn’t remember. Anyway, the topic of video games came up and Shouto quietly gave the same explanation, that he was essentially isolated from others until he moved to UA. Without a single second of hesitation and as coarse as always, Bakugou had said ‘I hope your shitty old man fucking dies, halfie’ and immediately dragged a laughing Shouto away to play Matteo Kart with his energetic friends in the common room.

Tetsutetsu was very sweet, and Shouto would finish their date to be friendly, but he knew that he wasn’t Shouto’s perfect potential boyfriend. Back to square one and less than a week until the school festival. 

LORD EXPLOSION MURDER 👑💥🔪

So? How’d the fucking date go?

Guy’s just your type. 

Me 😺

I don’t think I liked Kirishima as much as I thought I did

Try again

VIII. Italicized Oh

Katsuki couldn’t pinpoint why or how he was upset. When he was younger, he would cover it up with a safe, familiar blanket of anger, but no, he was trying to be better and more ‘connected to his feelings, bro’ or whatever. His stomach hurt. His chest hurt. He curled up further on his bed, hugging a pillow close to his torso. 

He wasn’t some type of baby though, he couldn’t sit around feeling sorry for himself for no real reason! He had to finish making the shopping list for the Mad Banquet of Darkness (Birdhaus got his way) and, more importantly, he only had a few days to find a perfect guy for IcyHot. His chest stung, sharper this time; was he getting sick? Overdoing it on training again?

He sighed and stretched, grabbing the notebook and pen sitting next to him on the bed. Okay, he had to think about this. He had to find the perfect strategy. 

IcyHot needed someone who could keep up with him, definitely a fellow hero. Katsuki smirked at the thought; even in classes 3-A and 3-B, there were very few people who could compare to Todoroki’s sheer power and ability. 

He thought about the story Mic-sensei told him, how affected he and Aizawa-sensei were by the loss of their friend even close to fifteen years later. Katsuki knew, so deeply, about the amount of horrific bullshit Todoroki had been put through in his relatively short life. He knew that some pain and anger doesn’t go away, that IcyHot felt like he’d always be catching up on being ‘normal’. Todoroki needed someone stable, someone dependable who could be there for him through the lasting nightmares, through the social stress, through everything.  

Mic-sensei’s advice rang in Katsuki’s ears: ‘find someone you can trust to support you and hold onto them.’ Todoroki needed someone who’d have his back in all senses of the word and these extras weren’t fucking good enough! Katsuki crumpled the paper and growled in frustration. 

Okay, okay, breathe. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift to Todoroki, about everything he had observed about him over the past three years together.

Todoroki, standing strong by his side on the battlefield and saving him from plummeting to his death during the war. 

Todoroki, sitting with him in companionable silence as the guilt over Deku’s disappearance threatened to eat Katsuki alive. 

Todoroki, publicly defending him in the coffee shop with no regard to his own reputation as a future hero.

Todoroki’s stupid obsession with soba and cats and his weird conspiracies. Todoroki’s sly sense of humor and authentically snarky streak. Todoroki visiting his mother in the hospital every week until her release and as often as he could since. Todoroki’s gorgeous eyes and his long, soft-looking hair and his scar that only added to his distinct beauty. Todoroki’s gentle laugh and deep voice and those little smiles that almost no one got to see. That Katsuki got to see. 

Todoroki, Todoroki, Todoroki. Shouto . Katsuki’s eyes shot open and he sat bolt-upright, heart pounding and palms crackling. All the weird upset feelings over other possible boyfriends, the swooping in his stomach when Shouto smiled, the way he could never take his eyes off him. It all made sense now.

Oh. 

He, Bakugou Katsuki, was in love with Todoroki Shouto. 

Todoroki should be his and no one else’s.

The Bet deadline was in three days. 

Oh, fuck. 

Ignorant of Katsuki’s inner turmoil in the room below, Shouto lay sprawled on his futon, wondering if he bashed his head against the tatami hard enough he’d gain some clarity on what he should do. He stared blankly at his ceiling and knew, realistically, he should be doing literally anything else. His Ethics essay, for starters, or maybe he should finish his designs for The Mad Banquet of Darkness’ dark fantasy ice sculptures. Tokoyami had final approval over the gothic decor and the sooner Shouto turned in his final designs and got sculpting, the less ruffled his classmate’s feathers would be. 

Three days left until The Bet deadline and Shouto had officially run out of ideas. Kaibara had been a last-ditch option, sure, but Shouto had been desperate. So what if Shouto was secretly thrilled that Bakugou had disliked Kaibara so strongly? So what that he was happy to be wrong? It didn’t mean anything, maybe Shouto was just petty. Or maybe Kaibara, heterosexuality aside, was just wholly inadequate for what Bakugou actually needed. 

Touya’s five rules echoed like ghosts in Shouto’s brain as he shuffled on his knees over to his kotatsu, grumbling as he picked up his pencil and started detailing in the rough outline for the ice dragon he designed. He didn’t need to pre-sketch ice sculptures, but a visual definitely made it easier. Besides, sketching was relaxing and he needed something to do with his hands while he pondered his romantic dilemma that didn’t involve lighting his futon on fire. 

Freedom. Respect. Contentment. Devotion. Trust. Shouto took a shuddering breath. Those were scary, serious words and Shouto didn’t. He truly didn’t think he had the social, emotional, or romantic capacity to assign those big qualities to a single person that he could then neatly package and hand to Bakugou like a gift. He thought he should try putting himself in Bakugou’s place and with that, his imagination ran wild at breakneck speeds. 

When did Shouto feel free? He felt free when he could give his all in spars, when Bakugou took him on nature hikes out of the city, when Shouto got to choose where they went and what they did half the time. Or if he wanted to be left alone, the most retaliation he’d get was a gruff reminder to eat dinner and to text if he needed anything. 

When did Shouto feel respected? Despite all of his blustering, Bakugou listened to him. He’d cover it up by calling him a weirdo or a dumb halfie, but then he’d ask questions or make comments about whatever Shouto wanted to ramble about. When they teamed up, as they often did in class and training, Shouto felt like his ideas and plans were valued. Additionally, it was no secret that Shouto had a difficult upbringing, but Bakugou never pushed him to discuss all the gory details unless Shouto wanted to. 

When did Shouto feel content? Maybe Kaminari had been right to call the pair of them boring, but Shouto had never felt more at peace than when he and Bakugou were just hanging out in one of their rooms in companionable quiet. How could Shouto feel judged for needing to leave a social gathering early because he was overwhelmed when he always shared the elevator back to his room with an equally uncomfortable Bakugou?

When did Shouto feel devotion? Devotion was a strong word, and maybe Shouto wasn’t there just yet, but he could safely say that, at a minimum, Bakugou was one of his closest friends and Shouto would do anything for him. He’d done it once during Kamino, but Shouto would break every rule, every bone, every villain if Bakugou needed him to. And was that not also devotion, in some way?

Who could Shouto trust? Above all else, in every conceivable situation, there was nobody Shouto trusted to have his back more than Bakugou Katsuki. 

Bakugou, who made sure Shouto ate and slept regularly. Bakugou, who snarled at everyone who looked at Shouto wrong during the very public scandal with his family. Bakugou, who stayed up all night, many nights, helping Kaminari and Ashido with their homework. Bakugou, whose response to Izuku’s consistent recklessness was a slap upside the head and a growled order to be better because people cared about him. Stubborn, strange, oddly sweet Bakugou. Bakugou with his pretty, captivating face and wild battle cackle and those broad, calloused hands that roughly beat villains and delicately treated wounds with equal precision. 

Bakugou, Bakugou, Bakugou. Katsuki . Shouto accidentally ignited on his left side and hastily put it out before it spread to his shirt or his sketch and set off the fire alarm for the fourth time this semester. All those funny feelings, the ugly twist in his chest about Kaibara, the distractibility when Bakugou looked soft, the way his stomach hurt at the thought of presenting a new boyfriend. The room spun, Shouto’s heart a mess, as it all clicked into place. 

Oh. 

He, Todoroki Shouto, was in love with Bakugou Katsuki. 

Shouto wanted him for his own. 

The Bet deadline was in three days. 

Well, that certainly complicated things.

IX. Conversations With Your SBF 2

Ejirou lay on the floor, idly tossing a ball in the air and catching it again as he listened to his Positive Affirmations (Evening) podcast. Mina was busy and even though Ejirou loved her with all his heart, he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad for a little downtime after the busy training day he’d had. A single, hesitant knock interrupted his relaxation and he decided to practice self-care and pretend he wasn’t there. It was probably Denki asking to play video games and avoid working on their math homework again anyway.

Three sharp knocks, then two slow and heavy. Ejirou immediately paused his podcast. 

“Ejirou? Can I come in?” Katsuki’s voice drifted through the door, uncommonly soft and unsure. As if Ejirou would ever say no to a friend in need! That wouldn’t be manly at all!

“Of course, bro!” Ejirou called, “It’s open!” 

Bakugou entered quickly, closing the door tightly behind him. He raised a pale eyebrow at the sight of Ejirou on the floor, but said nothing, choosing instead to flop facedown on Ejirou’s bed. Ejirou let him lay there, soundlessly, unmoving, for a good few minutes before he started to get worried. 

“You okay there?” he chuckled, getting a muffled string of what were definitely curses and complaints from the boy on the bed, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

Katsuki sat up, his arms folded protectively against his torso and his cheeks flushed red. Ejirou’s concern only grew. Was his friend sick? Did they need to go to Recovery Girl?

“You’re gonna think it’s dumb,” Katsuki groaned. 

“Bro, I got a 36% on my last chemistry test. I don’t think I have room to call anyone else dumb. What’s up?” 

“We’ll circle back to the chemistry later if I have to beat the formulas into your thick fucking skull, but um, so I might have… not told you the full truth about Todoroki.”

“Okay? And?”

“Ugh, let me talk,” Katsuki responded hotly, “Me and him, we started this dumb bet a couple of months ago and now things are stupid and complicated and I don’t know what to do.”

Ejirou sat in his desk chair and blinked at him, confused. 

“Not giving me a lot to work with there! We’ll go one step at a time: what’s the bet?”

Katsuki sighed and threw his head back. 

“He wanted to say he was better at all this love and feelings bullshit and like, fucking obviously not, right? I couldn’t let that shit stand, so I challenged him to find me the perfect boyfriend by the school festival and I’d do the same for him. We’ve been suggesting guys for each other ever since.”

Ejirou hummed, considering. Things made a lot more sense now with this explanation, but he still felt like he was missing something. 

“So, like, are you worried you’ll lose?” Ejirou prodded gently, “Is that why you’re upset?”

“Oh, no, I found him the perfect guy alright,” Katsuki grumbled, “Me. That’s the problem.”

Eyes wide, Ejirou felt his heart skip a beat in excitement as a grin spread across his face. Was this Boy Talk? Was he finally getting to experience Boy Talk with someone? The only girls he was close to were Jirou, who wasn’t interested in boys, and Mina. And as the boy in question for Mina, he couldn’t exactly have Boy Talk with her. 

“You like Todoroki?” Ejirou gasped, fingers drumming on his knees. 

“‘Like’ is for cowards,” Katsuki scoffed, “I’m in love with him.” 

Tears welled up in Ejirou’s eyes at the bold declaration. So manly! 

“I’m so happy for you!” he said, “Are you gonna tell him?”

Bakugou shifted uncomfortably and hugged himself tighter. Ejirou noted with some amusement that he appeared to be wearing a big hoodie with a kitten on it, which to Ejirou’s knowledge could only belong to one or two people in the class. And Bakugou wasn’t friends with Shinsou. 

“I want to,” Katsuki rambled, eyes fixed on the floor, “I just- I just don’t know how. I’m not good at this feelings shit, you know that,, and, and I don’t even think he’d be interested in me. What if I can’t make him happy? What if I tell him and it all goes wrong?”

Ejirou frowned and stood up. He crossed over to the bed and gave Katsuki an affectionate slap upside the head, making the other boy hiss and glare at him. 

“I don’t want to hear it!” Ejirou stated firmly, “Now repeat after me: I am Bakugou fucking Katsuki.”

“I am Bakugou fucking Katsuki,” Katsuki repeated in a mumble. 

“I am an amazing hero and person,” Ejirou continued. 

“I am an amazing hero… and person,” his best friend said, voice gaining strength. 

“I am going to go out there during the festival and I am going to get my man!” Ejirou finished, slamming his fists together. Bakugou repeated it with confidence, some challenging light returning to his eyes, and Ejirou was delighted to see he slammed his fists together in the Red Riot pose too. 

“But, Ei, what do I do?” Katsuki asked, “I’m in the kitchen all day during the festival and he’s gonna be busy with his ice decorations and bussing tables. We agreed to meet right after the booth ends but I don’t want to look all gross when I tell him I’m perfect for him.” 

“Leave it to me, bro!” Ejirou said, pulling out his phone, “You cool with roping Sero into this?” 

Katsuki shrugged and waved him on. 

Me 🤜🤛🦈

Bro!!!!

We’ve got a Code Cupid💘 and I need your manly help🙏!!!

Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeroooooooo Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanta 

Is it Denki again? 🙄😑

What girl is he gonna try and fail to hit on this time?

Me 🤜🤛🦈

no dude! It’s Bakubro! 

Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeroooooooo Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanta 

😮

Be right down

There was a tap on Ejirou’s window less than a minute later as Sero swung down to his balcony from the room above. Katsuki was clearly flustered and didn’t want to repeat himself, so Ejirou gave a quick run-down of the situation and asked for Sero’s help with the plan they were formulating. His friend nodded eagerly, wide teasing grin somehow wider as he plopped on the bed next to Katsuki and threw an arm around him. 

“Of course I’ll help my number one blasty bro!” he cooed, making Bakugou growl at him, “But fair warning since ‘Roki’s a good friend too: if you’re not serious about this and you fuck with his feelings, I will tape you to the top of the Tokyo Sky Egg and leave you there. Got it?” 

Katsuki gave an affirmative grunt and nodded. “Got it.” 

One floor below, Midoriya Izuku was drafting a Quirk compatibility report for a potential team-up between his work study, Lemillion Hero Agency, and The Lurkers when a soft knock at his door startled him out of his zen state of focus. Izuku lamented getting pulled out of The Zone but answered his door anyway despite the late hour. Nana’s consciousness briefly rebuked him and reminded him to go to bed soon, but at least the second and third user were on his side about helping out a friend in need.  

“Shouto? What’s up?” Izuku asked, furrowing his brow. His friend looked… bad. Well, it’s not like the incredibly, almost mythically handsome Todoroki Shouto could look bad , but he did look paler than usual with huge dark circles and an awful, somewhat lost expression on his usually composed face. Shouto clearly hadn’t slept enough and Izuku pointedly ignored Banjo calling him a hypocrite inside his head. 

“Can we talk?” Shouto responded. Izuku forced down the chattering gossips that lived inside him and motioned the other boy in. His friend took a seat at Izuku’s desk chair, back stiffly straight, and spun around a few times as Izuku situated himself on his bed. 

“Are you feeling sick?” Izuku said, “If you are, I’m sure Tokoyami will understand if you need to skip the festival! Not that your ice sculptures aren’t cool and amazing and everything but your health is first priority! You should go to Recovery Girl! And rest! What are your symptoms? Are you nauseous? Tired? Do you have a fever? Wait, wait, how do you know if you have a fever-”

“I’m not sick. Physically, anyway,” Todoroki said, grimacing, “I’m… lovesick. That’s what Fuyumi calls it.” 

Izuku schooled his face into a neutral, patient expression and resisted the urge to coo at Todoroki and give him an excited hug. Todoroki deserved the world and Izuku hoped against hope that the person who had captured his heart was worth it. 

“Oh?” Izuku asked, gently prodding, “For who?”

A lick of flame danced up Todoroki’s face and was quickly extinguished, piquing Izuku’s interest further. 

“Bakuguo,” Shouto said quietly. Izuku’s self-control broke and he immediately sprang off the bed, green lightning crackling around him, and almost bowled his friend over in a bear hug. 

“Oh my god, Shouto, that’s wonderful!” Izuku cried, eyes welling with tears. Curse his soft heart, this was great! Izuku’s two best friends were literally perfect for each other! His mind was already rapidly analyzing how powerful they’d be as a hero couple, plus how compatible were their personalities and interests and Quirks and-

“Izuku, you’re mumbling again,” Shouto said, his body temperature spiking, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

Izuku pulled back, confused, and saw a blush dusted high on Shouto’s cheeks. He wiped his eyes and sat back down on his bed, scanning his friend’s uncharacteristically tense face and posture. 

“What do you mean by that? Tell me everything.” 

And, well, Shouto was never known for holding back anyway. The words spilled out of him, faster and faster until he was giving Izuku a run for his money in the mumbling department. Izuku finally learned what his beef with Kirishima was, that Kacchan had apparently been in love with someone too (but Shouto absolutely refused to say who), that they came up with yet another stupid competition to be rivals over, and that things had spiralled so far that Shouto was on the verge of a panic attack about his feelings. 

“Okay, I think I get it now!” Izuku cut him off from waxing poetic about Kacchan’s ‘biteable cheeks.’ While Shouto’s first brush with cute aggression was entertaining, Izuku never wanted to hear it associated with his long-term friend and practical brother. It was just weird, okay?

“Sorry, did I overshare again?” Shouto asked awkwardly, earning a sharp nod, “I just don’t know what to do and the deadline is the festival and I’m not enough. He deserves someone attractive and kind and social, someone who can make him happy, and I don’t know what to do. I love him but losing his friendship over this would kill me, I think.”

Oof, the one-two Todoroki Punch of extremely dramatic and blunt. Fortunately, Izuku was an expert in handling these by this point, including the cripplingly low self-esteem that his friend sometimes, bafflingly exhibited. 

“First of all, as we’ve been telling you for years, you are enough. Let’s start there,” Izuku said firmly, “I told you a long time ago that you are a person worth more than your Quirk and I stand by it.” 

“I guess,” Todoroki said, “if you say so.”

“I do say so!” Izuku declared brightly, “Also, get out of here with thinking you’re unattractive because anyone with working eyes would disagree with you- no, not literally, sit back down. Second of all, what about Kacchan reads as ‘social butterfly’ to you? It’s only by the grace of Kirishima that we get him to go places at all… except with you. You’re his exception. Don’t you think that means something?” 

Shouto’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” 

Izuku grinned. Finally, a breakthrough. Thanks, Yoichi!

“That’s why you have me to help! So let’s make the perfect strategy for how you’ll confess, okay?” 

“That sounds good,” Todoroki nodded, looking more relaxed, “We’re planning to meet up right after the booth ends. I wish I had time to get changed or something, I don’t want to tell him I’m perfect for him and look disgusting from melting the ice sculptures during cleanup.”

“Shouto, you could show up covered in mud and wearing a clown costume and you’d still look like a runway model,” Izuku said, “But if it would make you feel better, I can ask Ashido to melt the ice?” 

Todoroki gave one of his tiny smiles that Izuku knew were his equivalent of a sunny beam. 

“Let’s do it.”

X. The School Festival

The morning of the school festival was sunny and clear, with a crisp chill to the air that signaled the slow approach of winter for the students of U.A. High School. At 6 a.m, Katsuki sat in his favorite chair by the window, watching the morning light paint the courtyard with brilliant shades of pink and gold as he sipped his coffee in silence. By order of Aizawa-sensei, nobody was allowed to train before the festival, but Katsuki’s natural body clock and nervous flutter in his stomach woke him up bright and early anyway. He needed something to do with this excess energy, maybe he’d supervise food prep when it started at 8 or something. He wasn’t supposed to since he’d be cooking with Shouji and Satou from noon until sunset, but hey, maybe Pinky suddenly forgot how to use a knife or something. Katsuki wasn’t a control freak. He wasn’t!

It was just that, well, he was practically vibrating with anxiety over the many, many unknowns for his confession and having a small amount of control over something else would make him feel less crazy. That’s all. Simple. Hound Dog would say that wasn’t a healthy way to deal with nerves, but what did he know anyway? It’s not like Hound Dog was out there confessing his love to the most gorgeous, interesting, and endearingly stupid person in the universe. Fuck, Katsuki was so gone for him already and they weren’t even together. He took another gulp of his coffee and resolved to watch prep until he either felt better or prep leader Deku kicked him out of the kitchen for being annoying. 

At ten a.m, Shouto stood on the booth grounds with the rest of the decor team, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his arms and shoulders. Though Tokoyami was bitterly disappointed that the Mad Banquet of Darkness would have to take place outdoors in a Momo-produced festival tent instead of the gym he wanted, the feathered boy and Dark Shadow were thrilled with Shouto’s four designs. 

Ice sculpting was delicate, finicky work that required all of Shouto’s concentration, a fact he was incredibly grateful for as it provided a nice distraction from the growing pit in his stomach over his confession. When he was sculpting the nightmarish face of the oni (inspiration drawn heavily from Endeavor’s visage), the paper-thin wings of the dragon, the fine hairs on the kitsune, or Ryuuk the Shinigami eating an apple, Shouto couldn’t possibly be thinking about Bakugou. Or confessing. Or getting laughed at and turned down. His concentration slipped and the hollow apple crashed to the ground, narrowly saved by Dark Shadow. 

“Be more careful, dummy!” the shadow spirit yelled, “You’re gonna ruin Fumi’s party!”

“Silence yourself, Dark Shadow!” Tokoyami ordered, exasperated, “My deepest apologies, Todoroki. I am afraid that the childish beast is manifesting my nerves in a rather cruel way. Please, do not listen to him and continue at your own pace.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll try not to get distracted again,” Shouto replied. 

Shouto carefully took the apple back from Dark Shadow and welded it back to the Ryuuk statue with more ice. Tokoyami went to supervise the placement of the plush, black velvet  throne he would sit on as he presided as the Mad King Of Shadows over the banquet, leaving Shouto alone with his work and his rapidly beating heart. 

For once, Katsuki was grateful for the chill in the air as the kitchen grew hotter than hellfire by 2 p.m. While it normally wouldn’t be an issue, he was so distracted by his upcoming confession that he’d forgotten to grab the ultra-absorbent thin cotton gloves he wore under standard latex when he was cooking for other people. While a few drops of nitroglycerin wouldn’t hurt anyone, it was still kind of gross. As it was, he was pouring sweat into his latex gloves and terrified that the friction would cause them to detonate at any second as he tossed the Brains n’ Guts Yakisoba on his grill. 

“Zou-chan!” Hagakure’s high voice rang out across the kitchen as she appeared in her gothic vampire uniform, “I need an order of Eyeball Takoyaki to go!” 

A grinning mouth extended out of one of Shouji’s tentacles, the rest of his hands still busy with his batter and trays. 

“You got it, babe.” 

Huh, IcyHot was right for once. Katsuki would definitely have to tell him later, he’d be thrilled. Maybe he’d even give one of his soft little smiles…

“Bakugou! Watch the grill!” Satou shouted from the Devil’s Food Cake dessert station. Katsuki scooped the yakisoba onto a tray and handed it to a waiting Kaminari, who was wearing an equally ruffled gothic vampire costume. He cursed loudly and stripped off his latex gloves, then wiped his hands down with a paper towel. 

“Pikachu, get Ponytail,” Katsuki said, defeated, “I need a pair of my cooking gloves. Get Deku too, he can cover for fifteen minutes so I don’t blow this fucking tent up.” 

“I’ve got you, Kacchan!” Kaminari chirped, “Go out back and cool off, I’ll get them.” 

Shouto walked the interior perimeter of the tent, adding another protective layer of hard frost to his statues. He set another chunk of ice in the air conditioner, getting a grateful pat on his head by a visibly sweating Jirou as she ran the DJ station that was blasting a mix of ambient spooky noise and what she and a positively regal Tokoyami called “goth rock.” Shouto didn’t know much about music, but he thought it sounded nice and told her as much, earning a hi-five from a meandering Dark Shadow. 

He was additionally grateful to be on trash duty with Sero and Ojirou so the girls would stop trying to force him into a frilly shirt and cape like the other servers and he could instead wear a soft black t-shirt and black pants. He cleared another table and tossed the empty disposable containers into his rapidly filling trash bag. He gave the table a good wipe, then made for the tent’s exit… and stopped dead in his tracks, ducking back to hide behind a tent pole. 

Bakugou was out there, in an apron and a tank top, and Shouto wasn’t ready, he really, really wasn’t ready to confront him about his feelings just yet. Not with a bag of trash in his hand and visible drink stains on his shirt, not when Shouto was feeling kind of sweaty, panicky, and pathetic. Shouto tried his best to send a telepathic signal to him to test the waters but it didn’t look like he received it. 

“‘Roki, you headed out?” Sero’s voice came from behind him, making Shouto jump, “Can you take my bag too?”

“I can’t,” Shouto responded, numb and frozen, “I can’t go out there, I look so gross.”

Sero poked his head out and huffed a laugh. 

“You’re lucky I’m such a good friend,” he said, taking Shouto’s bag with a knowing smile, “I’ll bring Bakugou a drink too, say it’s from you. I’m the best wingman at U.A, just ask Kiri!” 

Shouto raised his white eyebrow. 

“Okay? Thank you?”

“Trust me, dude, I’m doing the world a public service here,” Sero responded, confusingly, with a firm pat on Shouto’s back, “Besides, Yaomomo already gave me some blast-proof gloves for him anyway.” 

He grabbed a cold bottle of water out of the cooler Shouto made and exited the tent with a cheesy wink. 

By the time sunset came and the Mad Banquet of Darkness began to wind down, Katsuki was a bundle of nerves, jumping at every sound and desperately trying to keep his palms from crackling as he threw another order of yakisoba on the grill. He couldn’t. He couldn’t go through with this. He was going to die alone and that would be A-okay because he couldn’t stand to hear Todoroki Shouto turn him down. 

“Kacchan, we’ve got an hour until the booth ends. Let me take your station,” Deku said in a soft, firm voice as he appeared in the kitchen. Katsuki looked up and saw his freckled face was set in a determined smile with something like mischief in his eyes. Ugh, Katsuki did not have the mental bandwidth for this. 

“Alright, out with it, nerd,” Katsuki demanded, “What are you up to?” 

Deku waved his hands in front of him frantically, a move far funnier on his giant body than it was when he was a short, skinny 14 year old. Katsuki considered him for a moment, and realized he’d learned something he didn’t know two months previously: there was a difference between a small crush born out of long-term friendship or respect or admiration and being fully, disgustingly, head-over-heels in love with someone. His time with Todoroki had taught him that difference and Katsuki found that he held no grudge against Deku and Round Face’s happiness. 

“Nothing, Kacchan!” he responded, his big, green eyes still twinkling, “I just know you’ve got important plans right after this and I wanted to make sure you’re relaxed!” 

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. Deku couldn’t know , could he? Hey, call him a hypocrite for telling Kirishima and Sero but The Bet was supposed to be a secret! He opened his mouth to complain, then closed it quickly. The nerd was doing him a huge favor, and now he had enough time to change into fresh clothes and go over what he wanted to say. Okay. Okay. It was gonna be fine. 

“I owe you one, Izuku,” Katsuki said, shocking a tiny gasp and teary eyes from the other boy. He smirked and stood up straighter, then left the tent and ran over to the school to shower and change into the outfit Ei had stashed for him in the 3A classroom. 

A half-hour before the booth ended, Shouto handed another bag of trash to Sero and dusted off his hands, staring at the monumental dragon sculpture he felt guilty about just leaving. Trash duty was tiring enough, but more so was the constant need to use his ice to keep the air conditioners running and the ice sculptures from melting. He didn’t realize how much endurance that would take in the long-term, even in small doses.

“Todoroki, sweetie, I’m here to take over, okay? I know all about your plans with my darling Blasty and don’t worry, it’s our secret until you’re ready,” Ashido said, her big black sclera glittering as she stared with excitement at the dragon she would melt down. Todoroki finally looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in a year and… he felt nothing but the general friendliness he felt for the rest of his classmates. No sting of pain, no jealousy, just peace. 

“Thanks, Ashido,” he said, flashing her a tiny smile.

“Aw, you’re so cute!” she squealed, swatting him on the shoulder, “Now go get your man!”

With that, he left the tent and headed over to the gym where Izuku had left him a change of clothes. He’d have to hurry with his shower, but he should make it back in time to the tree where he and Bakugou had agreed to meet and present their final candidates for the perfect ‘gay and insane’ boyfriend. 

Katsuki felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest when 7 p.m. rolled around. He leaned against the meeting tree, the very same one that he and IcyHot had shared many lunches and study sessions under, and consciously tried to keep his shaking hands from sweating too much. 

Shouto swallowed heavily as his eyes landed upon Katsuki sitting under the tree, blonde and handsome and kissed by the setting sun. He exhaled a cloud of cold mist and attempted to control the frost that threatened to spread across his face as well as the stray flames that flickered briefly on his left side. 

“Bakugou,” Shouto said as he sat next to him, playing with the ends of his hair. 

“Todoroki,” Katsuki responded, averting his eyes so he wouldn’t get lost in Todoroki’s own.

“It’s been two months.”

“Yeah.” 

“We agreed The Bet would end tonight, didn’t we?” Shouto asked, desperate to keep his voice from wavering. 

“We did,” Katsuki said, “I finally found someone who I think would be good for you, maybe perfect, if you’re ready to hear it.”

Shouto felt his heart shatter like ice. 

“No. Whoever it is, I don’t want them,” Shouto responded, “You always tell me to stop being half-assed and go after the things I want, right? Well, I found someone I want and your choice can’t compare. Suck it, you lose.” 

“Oh, really?” Katsuki scoffed, trying to cover up how hurt he was, “And who is it?”

“You,” Shouto said, forcing himself to meet Bakugou’s widening, beautiful red eyes, “I fell in love with you , Bakugou Katsuki. You are smart, handsome, kind, crazy, and everything I could possibly want in a boyfriend. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but that’s the truth and I’ve made my peace with it.”

Bakugou was quiet for a moment, seemingly stunned by Shouto’s confession, before a wild laugh burst out of his chest and Shouto’s heart broke again. He didn’t want his feelings to be made fun of like this. 

IcyHot’s face fell into that horrible, sad expression that Katsuki hated and, horrified, Katsuki reached up and gently rested his palm on the side of Todoroki’s neck, trying to pour the depth of his affection into the simple action and let him know he wasn’t being mocked. They didn’t always need words and Todoroki definitely seemed like he understood what Katsuki was going for, but fuck it, he deserved to know how much Katsuki cared about him. 

“You really piss me off, you know that?” Katsuki said quietly, staring up at Todoroki’s pretty face, “Coming in here and just saying shit like that when I had an entire speech planned, dammit.” 

Shouto gasped. 

“Does that mean-?”

“Yeah, IcyHot,” Katsuki snorted, “I must have lost my damn mind but I’m in love with you too, you fascinating, gorgeous dumbass. I don’t want anyone else and if we’re doing this, I’m playing for keeps, just so you know. Be my gay and insane boyfriend?” 

“Only if you’ll be mine,” Shouto responded, chest full, “Plus 1, plus 2. Does that mean I can kiss you now?” 

Katsuki’s hand slid from the side to the back of Shouto’s neck and pulled the taller boy down so they were forehead to forehead. They paused there and Katsuki gently angled their faces. 

“Thought you’d never ask.”

As their lips finally, tentatively met on a cool October evening, bathed in the rays of the setting sun and surrounded by the lingering chaos of the U.A. cultural festival, both boys had the same clear, distinct thought, as if via telepathy. 

Hah! I win. 

[Image Description: The sun sets in a golden sky behind a hill and three trees, one on the left, two on the right. The ground is covered in warm colored leaves which are also in the air, floating towards the ground and decorating the branches of the aforementioned trees. Bakugou and Todoroki sit together on the left side of the picture under a tree. Bakugou’s got an undercut, half lidded eyes, a scar on his jaw, a black hoodie with a dark jacket over it, black ripped jeans and orange sneakers. Todoroki’s hair is done up in a half up half down bun, we predominantly see the red side, his eyes are closed, he has a blue shirt covered by a periwinkle cardigan, paired with brown pants, and even darker brown old man shoes. The boys are facing each other, one leg on the ground, one leg pulled up towards their chests, and they are holding hands as they kiss surrounded by the warm light of a sunset. End ID]