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Fingers wrap around Izuku's arm, and he only has a split second to apologise to the vendor before he's pulled backwards, dragged through the crowd of people until they come to the end of the aisle where there is a small pocket of space.
"You," Kacchan growls, "are the fucking worst."
Izuku smiles, doing his best to widen his eyes innocently. Kacchan holds his temper for a second, then two, before he snorts and lets it break.
"I fuckin' hate you, you know that?" Kacchan grumbles at him, careful not to raise his voice too much. The convention centre is loud, bustling with excited people, lines for stalls building as people admire all the different items on display. Izuku had just been in amongst it all, and he's already scanning over some of the signs, eyes catching on a few things he knows he'll be heading back for.
"Oi, dipshit, pay attention," Kacchan brings back his focus, poking him in the forehead to bring his point home. "Been looking for you for twenty goddamn minutes."
"Oops," Izuku says, rocking back and forth on his heels. Something in his costume squeaks with the motion, which makes Kacchan's eyebrow raise in the way that means he's trying to tamper down a snicker. He is sorry, genuinely, but his mind is whirling and his fingers are itching to go through more of the products on display. "Sorry, I didn't think it'd been that long."
"You weren't thinking about the time at all, don't bullshit me," Kacchan retorts, shaking his head. Now it's Izuku's turn to try and not laugh, as Kacchan's mask threatens to fall from his face. Kacchan grumbles, readjusting it so it fits his face. "Should've just worn my own damn outfit. No one would have known."
"I tried that last year, remember?" Izuku whispers, shaking his head. "I was so sure no one would recognise me in a sea of Dekus, but..."
He shudders. It'd been awe-inspiring but also kind of terrifying. He learned a lot that day, so now he's dressed as a current third-year U.A. student who thankfully has a suit that covers Izuku from head to toe in unrecognisable colours. It'd managed to escape Kacchan's notice for almost half an hour, so Izuku's pretty sure he'll be just fine in this costume against all his fans.
"Where's-"
Kacchan shushes him instinctually, knocking his knuckles lightly against Izuku’s head to remind him not to say the name Todoroki in this crowd of people.
Everyone’s listening out for that name. After Izuku gave it away last year, their presences are to be expected at these kinds of things — it’s why Izuku’s outfit is so carefully planned this year.
"Also looking for you," Kacchan tells him, shaking his head. "Because you are a goddamn menace. I'm going to find you a fuckin' leash or something. There's gotta be one here."
"I think the stall with the Hound Dog cosplayer-"
Kacchan narrows his eyes. "That stall is down the other end of the goddamn convention, did you— you did. How the actual fuck did you cover that much ground? And buy that much shit?"
Izuku shrugs, holding up his bags full of merch and prints and all sorts of other things. Kacchan groans.
"Oh, wait, you're going to love this!" Izuku says excitedly, because he'd known the second he saw it that he'd at least get Kacchan to appreciate it.
Izuku puts one of the bags down between his feet, and rifles through another to pull something out. He holds it out with both hands, careful not to bend it, and Kacchan takes it from his fingers and studies the print in his hand.
He'd bought it from an artist, one of his first purchases, as it had immediately caught his attention. On the design, it's the three of them, but with their hero costumes switched around.
"Huh," Kacchan says, holding it closer as he looks at something. "They actually got the details right."
That had been what impressed Izuku — the level of correct, intricate detail displayed, and he knew Kacchan would immediately be looking for that.
"I also got this," Izuku says, pulling out another print. This one is of Shouto, based on a real photograph that's so well-shot it's still the photo journalists default to when they don't have one directly associated with their story. But the artist's style brings another flair to it, and he sees Kacchan's eyebrows raise as he studies the print.
"Nice," he comments, giving it back with an approving nod.
"I know!" Izuku blurts out, grinning ear-to-ear in his excitement. Kacchan snorts at him, giving him a small shake of his head, and any annoyance he had about having to spend so long trying to find him has disappeared now.
"Alright, we gotta find the actual idiot now," Kacchan says, tilting his head up and scanning the crowd like they have any chance of finding Shouto in it. Shouto's dressed as one of the more popular heroes this year, and there are so many people in similar outfits wandering around.
Izuku pulls out his phone, wincing as he sees the amount of messages and calls he's missed from both of them, before he sends a message to Shouto in their groupchat. Shouto replies back immediately, saying he's currently near the line for one of the panels that Izuku has been interested in — but he realises he's left it too late, and he knows he won't have a chance now to get inside. He's disappointed, but he knows he should have been paying more attention.
Kacchan looks aroung again, planning out their path, before he wraps his fingers around Izuku's arm.
"This time, you stay with me," Kacchan orders, and Izuku nods because he knows he isn't really going to be able to convince Kacchan otherwise. He can slip out from Kacchan's hold if he really wants to, but Kacchan takes him down one of the alleys he's already explored — likely on purpose — so Izuku isn't too insistent on stopping at any stalls.
(He does manage to get three keychain figures, one for each of them. And he's pretty sure he catches the sight of Kacchan buying something too, even if he's trying to act like he doesn’t have interest in purchasing anything right now.)
They manage to get out of the main hall, following the path down until they reach the line up for the panels. Izuku deflates slightly, his last bit of hope leaving as he sees how big the line is. He definitely doesn't have any chance of getting in now.
"Come on," Kacchan says, heading towards the line. Izuku follows in confusion, checking his phone to see if Shouto has elaborated exactly on where he is, but their groupchat has no new messages.
"Do you know where he is?" Izuku asks, peering around to try and spot him.
Kacchan grunts in confirmation. "Come on, hurry up."
Pulled around the side of the line, towards the front where people are starting to walk through and into the hall for the panel, Izuku sees Shouto leaning up against the wall. He straightens up when he spots them, walking over to them.
"You were almost late," Shouto says, almost an admonishment, and holds out his hand.
"No way," Izuku breathes out upon seeing the three V.I.P Passes that Shouto is holding out for them. "No way! These sold out immediately, how did you get them?"
Shouto realises Izuku is too stunned to take it, so he gracefully puts the lanyard around Izuku's neck for him.
"You could have gotten them if you signed up with your actual name," Kacchan reminds him with a roll of his eyes, holding his lanyard rather than wearing it around his neck.
Izuku shakes his head. He wanted to experience the con like he always dreamed about doing so when he was younger, without all the special treatment. Just as any other ordinary con-goer.
And also...
"I wanted to see if I could win the ticketing war," Izuku mutters. He's learned better anyway — sometimes there are battles he can't win, and he should simply use every advantage he has. Next time, he's not practicing leniency. If it’s for the sake of listening to some of the best heroes talk about their costumes and friends, Izuku will use his advantages of being a star guest.
Something clicks in the back of his mind, and he whirls back around to Shouto. "Did you use your name?"
Shouto shakes his head. Kacchan snorts.
"Bastard didn't even have to queue for more than a minute in the virtual line. He somehow managed to get right in," Kacchan reveals. Izuku distantly pieces together that it means both Shouto and Kacchan had been trying to get these tickets together — he remembers, now, trying to do it while out on patrol while his boyfriends should have been sleeping after their own late-night. Instead, they'd waited up, and they'd gotten tickets for all of them.
Shouto shrugs. "I just knew you wanted the tickets, so I made sure I logged on at the advised time."
Izuku's mouth drops. His heart swells. "You... you got them for me?"
"You really wanted them, right?" Shouto asks.
Izuku is so full of warmth and gratitude and so, so much love, that he leans forward and presses a kiss to Shouto's cheek in appreciation. Kacchan makes an affronted noise, turning his head away, and Izuku smiles to himself before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Kacchan's cheek as well.
"Thank you," Izuku says appreciately in a whisper.
Shouto clears his throat. "Of course."
"Come on, we still gotta join the V.I.P line," Kacchan reminds them, thumb jerking to the much, much smaller line behind them.
"Oh! Right!" Izuku says, and takes both Kacchan and Shouto's hands and tugs them eagerly towards it, basically rocking back and forth on his feet in excitement as they join the line. They'll be sitting up close to the front of the panel now, meaning Izuku is going to be even closer to all the guest speakers.
He's seen them before, met them before out on the field, but he's still swept up in his excitement. This is everything he could have dreamed of when he was a kid.
No, he realises. With Kacchan and Shouto by his side, it's even better than he ever could have imagined.