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It was a peaceful night at the U.A. dorms.
10:57 PM.
Izuku Midoriya was lying in bed, sleepy but texting two people at once: his eternally angry (and inexplicably attractive) rival Katsuki Bakugo, and his friend Shoto Todoroki.
Kacchan💥:
Kacchan, 6 AM rooftop training tomorrow?
I’ve got new wraps for your knuckles. Don’t hate me if I’m 5 minutes late.
Shoto Todoroki:
Shoto… I can’t anymore.
It’s not normal for someone to have the biceps of a Greek god and the personality of an angry volcano.
Literally, if hell had arms, they’d be Kacchan’s.
Izuku sighed dramatically, heart melting with love and exhaustion. He was about to reply to Shoto again with something he knew he should never say aloud… but he wrote it anyway:
Kacchan’s biceps have me emotionally on my knees, Shoto. On my knees.
He sent it. He stretched. He smiled. He almost dozed off.
Then he saw it.
Sent to: "Kacchan💥".
Oh.
…
He looked at the name again.
…
Oh, no.
…
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH?!?!
Izuku flew out of bed like a startled cat, soul leaving his body for a whole other dimension of embarrassment.
He ran. Bounced off walls. Fell. Got back up. And finally crashed into Room 2-B.
“SHOTO, LEVEL TEN NUCLEAR EMERGENCY!”
Shoto, who had been reading a book of zen poetry, looked up without changing his expression.
“You sent the biceps message to Bakugo?”
“YES!!! THE WORST ONE! THE ONE WITH THE KNEES! I HAVE TO MOVE TO ANOTHER COUNTRY, SHOTO!”
“Calm down,” Shoto said, closing his book with military precision. “We have a window of opportunity. Bakugo goes to bed at exactly 11:00. What time is it?”
“11:02!”
“Damn. He’s probably asleep… which means he hasn’t read it yet.”
“Is that good?”
“No. It’s perfect. We begin the operation.”
Codename: Avoid the Explosion
Target: Bakugo’s phone
Team: Anxious Midoriya and Unbothered Todoroki
They arrived like shadows at Bakugo’s door. It was slightly ajar. Inside, Bakugo was asleep, completely unaware of the chaos his arms had caused.
“I see it,” Shoto whispered. “Phone’s on the nightstand. Less than two meters away.”
“What if he touches it in his sleep?! What if he dreams about blowing me up and replies with a bomb emoji?!”
“Relax. I’ve got a plan.”
Izuku stared as Shoto pulled out… a carrot.
“What the hell is that?!”
“Plan B. If he catches me, I’ll say I was leaving him a snack.”
“WHO LEAVES CARROTS AT NIGHT LIKE A DAMN EASTER BUNNY?!”
Shoto shrugged and slipped inside like a ninja. Izuku was sweating harder than during finals.
Shoto reached the phone… and Kacchan grunted in his sleep.
“…damn nerds…”
They froze.
izuku was ready to leap out the window.
But Kacchan only snored, rolled over, and hugged a pillow that said BOOM.
With grace, Shoto grabbed the phone, opened the chat, and deleted the message.
“Target neutralized.”
They returned to the hallway like they’d just defused a bomb (which, in a way, they had).
“You think he’ll notice?” Izuku asked, still breathless.
“Only if he realizes you never re-sent your training message…Want me to resend it?”
“NOOOOOOO!” izuku panted, collapsing to his knees. “NO MORE BICEPS! NO MORE KNEES! NO MORE MESSAGES GONE WRONG!”
Shoto simply nodded, wearing his classic this is just another Tuesday expression.
The next morning.
Everything seemed normal. Kaminari talked about video games. Uraraka laughed with Mina. Shoto read his book. Izuku sat, quietly chewing his toast like it might explode.
Then Kacchan entered. Phone in hand.
And that face.
“Nerd.”
“Y-Yeah…?” Izuku squeaked, his soul already halfway into the afterlife.
“You got something to say?”
Shoto looked up. Oh no.
Izuku stammered.
“About training? Sorry I missed it, Kacchan, there were… technical issues. With… electricity. And… carrots.”
Bakugo raised the phone and waved it slightly.
“Why do I have a deleted message notification… from 11:03 PM… right after you texted me about training?”
Izuku went pale.
“And why do I vaguely remember something about knees… and my biceps being emotionally responsible for a hormonal disaster?”
Izuku slowly slid under the table.
“That message wasn’t for you! It was for Shoto! I don’t like you that way-well, yes, but not like that-wait, yes like that but not so obviously!”
Silence. Kaminari dropped his pancake. Somewhere upstairs, someone yelled “FINALLY!” from the second floor.
Kacchan crossed his arms.
“So you’re into this,” he said, flexing one arm with a smirk that could level a city.
“I’m going to melt. Literally” Izuku groaned from under the table.
Then Kacchan did the unthinkable.
He held out a hand… and pulled him up.
Then kissed him.
“Don’t hide, nerd. If you’re gonna confess, do it to my face. Not through a message. Especially not one I already read anyway.”
Izuku took his hand like a broken ghost of a human, breath caught in his throat.
“So… you don’t hate me?”
“Tch. Still do. But if you buy me an orange juice after class, I might lower the volume.”
Todoroki, still reading his book, muttered:
“That counts as a success.”