Chapter Text
Katsuki was in love and it was the stupidest shit of his life, oh my fucking god. No matter how much he tried to distance himself, that idiot would come barging in with one reason or another, like he couldn’t stand to not be within Katsuki’s presence 24/7. It made him furious, along with this mushy feeling he’s trying really, really hard to squash.
The feelings started some couple of months ago. Perhaps longer. But he was able to put a word to it specifically a couple of months ago. He was in the cafeteria with his loser friends, chin resting on the palm of his hands, and eyes stretching across the boy at the other table.
He was laughing, and it sounded like goddamn bells. It was the prettiest sound he’s ever had the pleasure of hearing and he wishes he never heard it. He remembers how his face had gone up in flame, a single dropping in his mind and expression going slack. Love. Stupid, sappy, love. Fucking hell.
Mina, the absolute bitch, noticed his sudden lack of defiance to their usual pushing, and started pestering for answers, practically hanging off his arm until he finally confessed, ears no doubt painted a hideous rose color. He remembers the ear-splitting squeal that could have made any normal human go deaf. Luckily, Katsuki had natural resistance to loud noises, and somehow managed to survive. (Doesn’t mean he didn’t try to pretend for an entire day later, not responding or even looking at the girl until she teased him and suddenly he was spouting profanities and insults that had her doubling over.)
“You really love him, don’t you.” Mina hums, rounding the table before the rest of the idiot squad could get there. In the meantime, Katsuki was definitely not staring at a familiar ass, quickly averting his gaze. He shrugs, not mustering any words.
“I’m sure he likes you back if you’d just say something.”
“Not happening.” He snaps, voice sharp and vulnerable. Only she, and Deku, the useless nerd, could ever get him like this. She was something of a best friend, more than Kirishima or Kaminari or Sero or Jirou could ever be. Deku, sure, but his feelings toward him were… changing. For better or for worse he hasn’t quite decided yet. “He’s got goddamn round’cheeks. Doesn’t fuckin’ need me for shit.”
Mina gives him an unimpressed look. “ Uh huh,” she says, “you know, quitting really isn’t a good look on you.”
“I’m not quitting,” He barks immediately. How dare she use that word in regard to him. “I’m just letting him be with someone who’ll actually make him happy.” And it’s the truth. All Katsuki’s done is hurt the dumbass. He still can’t even think about him without using some kind of insult. Who the fuck does that? Not any kind hearted person, that’s for damn sure.
“You do make him happy.” Mina sighs, and it’s not the softest nor the kindest way she’s ever put things, words holding a curt edge. She’s been repeating these words for too long for them to hold any genuine resistance to hurting his feelings. Now, she’s just annoyed. “You make him happier than I think I’ve ever seen anyone make him happy. You two, like, revolve around each other, or something. If one of you is hurt, you’re both hurt, If one of you is healing, you’re both healing. If one of you is in love-”
“Watcha’ talking about?” Kaminari interrupts, and it takes Katsuki half a minute to decipher that he didn’t hear jack shit about their conversation, face holding an innocent obliviousness. Mina lets the topic drop for now, knowing that Katsuki isn’t quite ready to be out to the rest of the squad. Apparently, she already knew he was gay long before he actually figured it out. Asshole.
“None of your business, dunce face.” He snaps, slightly on edge. If Kaminari notices, he doesn’t say anything, going off on some tangent or another. Mina, however, clearly does, eyes narrowed into slits from where she peeks out at him.
…
He shouldn’t be surprised when she pulls him away from the class later, dragging him into his room. He’d been talking with Deku about how shitty his fighting was today. It wasn’t. It was hot as fuck and had him distracted the entire time. Deku didn’t need to know that, though.
“Fuck, what do you want now?” He grumbles, bouncing across her bed as she practically throws him, raising an unimpressed brow. She mirrors the expression, but he senses that it's meant in a more mocking kind of manner.
“You’re telling him how you feel tonight or you’re not telling him at all.” She practically demands, arms crossing tightly over her chest. She’s standing tall, high above his head. It would feel like a power imbalance if Katsuki didn’t know any better. He scoffs, and suddenly Mina is hopping down alongside him, pulling out her phone.
“I’m serious! Uraraka is planning on telling him tomorrow, and if he accepts, which, knowing him, I’m sure he will because he has no backbone or dating experience and I’ve had to listen to Shoto, Shoto, complain about his pining over his empty romantic life because apparently he’s a hopeless romantic, like someone else I know, who just wants to love and be loved by someone, anyone, but preferably a very specific someone.” She looks pointedly at Katsuki, but he’s still confident that she’s got her people-reading wrong.
“Yeah, a very specific someone named Uraraka.” He rivals, teeth baring in an animalistic manner. He wipes his hands along the fabric of his jeans, sweat soaking into the fabric. Fucking quirk. “He doesn’t love me and he never will.”
Mina groans, throwing her head back, life draining out of her body. “I will not hesitate to acid melt you! Don’t think I won't.” She drops her head, taking a long intake of air before slowly releasing it. “Babe, I’m literally not even joking. Just… Go tell him. Seriously.”
Katsuki glares at the floor. Fuuuuck, she was right, because as much hate as he gives his squad they’re all a bunch of smartasses in their own ways. Mina’s was drama and feelings and personal relationships. You’d think she’d have Jirou’s quirk with how much she knew about everyone. He’s running his hands over the rough fabric of his pants again, quirk sizzling in threat to his emotions. Impatient shit.
There’s a gentle hand on his, and when he looks up he sees Mina staring softly at him, still stressed but urging it more into a plea. “Just… This might be your last shot for a while. Because I know you, and you wouldn’t ever bring up your relationship while he’s dating someone else.”
“Why are you so insistent that he’s going to get with round’cheeks if he…” likes me, he doesn’t say, unable to get the words lodged out of his throat.
“Because you’ve barely been giving him anything to work off of, hunny. He’s been trying for so long to get closer to you but everytime he does you get all… defensive. He doesn’t think you like him back and he’s only human. You can’t expect him to wait that long without being worn down. Just, please. At Least try.”
…
“Oi Deku, come to my room later.”
He had said an hour or so earlier. No context, just those simple words and nothing else. Since then, he’s been working himself into an uncharacteristic frenzy; pacing around the room, lifting weights before immediately dropping them, adjusting his hair in the mirror. He regretted the comfortable clothes he had worn instead of going for something more put together. Would that be appropriate in this setting? He never specified a time and didn’t want to be caught mid-changing.
He’s contemplating shooting Deku a text- or maybe send one through Mina to be more subtle. Yeah, because that wouldn’t make him seem more desperate than he’s trying not to be- When the knock comes to his door. Stealing his resolve, and wiping away the excess sweat that had begun to build, he opens the door, hardening his face so that he doesn’t seem like a lost kitten that got stuck out in the rain.
Deku, however, almost fits that exact description, hair dripping with water and skin flush with a recent shower. His eyes are shimmering, a hopeful smile dancing nervously on his lips. Which are plush. And nice to look at. And holy fuck Katsuki wants to kiss him so goddamn bad.
Instead, he takes a step back, and in turn a breath to stamp out that thought, and allows the nerd to enter into his room. Deku’d never been in here before, and takes a minute to fully take in the space. The figurines, the posters, the color scheme that Katsuki strictly follows so that it doesn’t look too nauseating on the eyes. It’s a gentle warm and brown color with flecks of gray and black and white. A lot more earth tones than many would expect of him.
The door clicks into place behind him, closed but unlocked for any quick exits. If things really go south, then there’s always the glass door to the balcony that he’s sure he could crash through if he really wants a couple bruises.
“Is everything OK, Kacchan?” Deku asks, turning to him with those wide, wide eyes that peer into his very soul, devouring and all-consuming. Katsuki makes a move (it’s a flinch, but he brushes it off as a movement to grab his backpack, setting it by the desk and rummaging through it to seem busy.) “I, um, know you don’t need my help with anything because you’re just fine on your own but usually you don’t let anyone in your room, much less me and an-”
“Shut it nerd.” He snaps and instantly berates himself internally for it. Is he panicking? He feels like he’s panicking, heart lodging in his throat. He’s going to- all he needs to say is- “We’re studying, come on.”
Fuuuuck, couldn’t do it.
Next time, for sure.
Except the next time comes when Deku asks if he’s ok, bringing a hand to his forehead and commenting that he feels warm. “Are you sick?” He had asked in that honey dipped voice. “I can go get someone… um, Mina, maybe.” He’d suggested and Katsuki had slapped away his hand instead of professing his undying love, spitting that Deku was just looking for excuses to not do his work.
Deku’s skin had sunk into a shameful red, face contorting into something anxious and stressed. He opens his mouth, and then closes it. And then opens it again, “If you’re sure, Kacchan.”
And fuck, he’d sounded so goddamn sad.
And then the next moment comes while they're packing up and Deku’s very obviously, painfully stalling, swaying on the balls of his feet. He’s waiting for something. Did Mina tell him? Is that why he brought her up? He’s fidgeting like crazy, eyes darting every which way.
“Deku… I-” Katsuki starts, heart rapidly beating his chest, pure adrenaline rushing through his veins in gross harmony with his nerves. Fuck, he’s never felt like this before. Shit. Shit. Shit. He has to say it- he literally does not have a choice because tomorrow- and Uraraka- and-
“Kacchan?” Deku whispers and it’s so precious, and fragile, and open. He doesn’t deserve this idiot. At all. Ever.
“It’s-” His hands are shaking now and his breath won’t exit his lungs, swirling madly in his chest, needing to get out but shriveling at the very thought of leaving. Coward, he tells himself, feeling like the biggest goddamn idiot right now. No wonder he was head of the ‘idiot squad’. “Nothing. Goodnight, nerd.”
And oh, oh does Deku look utterly shattered. Like his heart just got ripped into a dozen tiny pieces. There’s tears in his eyes and Katsuki’s already accepted that it’s too late, that he’s missed his chance and Uraraka will treat him better than Katsuki ever could. The nerd inhales a shaky breath and he wants to say something, but swallows it after a minute of tense silence.
They both know each other’s feelings, but neither have the strength to say it. They’re both gasping for breath, struggling under the weights of their own insecurities. Like, despite the fact that they both know full and well of the situation, that perhaps they are reading this wrong. Like perhaps this tense air is actually smooth and clean and they’re the only one being choked. What if What if What ifs running through their heads.
“Oh. Um. Y-Yeah, O-Ok, Good, um Goodnight Kacchan.” Deku’s voice quivers as he leaves, shutting the door slowly, stalling for those few extra seconds, like if he waits then maybe Katsuki can talk past the heartbreak thundering in his lungs. Nothing.
Deku’s gone.
And Katsuki failed.