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Katsuki isn’t excited.
This isn’t an exciting situation.
It’s not like he had to have his parents give him special permission to leave school for the day or that his dad let him book a hotel room for himself for the first time.
It’s under his name on the shiny new card he’s allowed to have now that he’s finally gotten into UA.
All of his savings and shit are in it now, which is a good thing too, because he’s about to blow a fuck-ton of cash today.
But whatever.
That’s not that cool.
People do shit like this all the time.
He’s not excited.
If anything, it’s bullshit he’s gotta miss a whole day of fucking class because some idiots out there decided that all the good shit for MightyCon should be held on a fucking Saturday.
He glances at the clock by his bed.
It’s already almost nine.
The con opens at 10 and he’s got to get across town and check into his hotel room and…well, get into his costume by the time the artist alley opens.
It’s been…a while since he’s been to a con, the last was with-
It doesn’t matter really. It’s been years, but he remembers the lines being fucking ridiculous to get into the artist alley and even longer to see the Vendors.
And he needs to get in there.
Because somewhere in all the mess of American imports and Tokyo retailers is a limited release Silver Age Triumph figure with his name on it.
Literally.
He doesn’t really remember how he happened to run across the shop selling All Might merchandise from
all the way back during his American debut, but he knows that he managed to and the guy’s been holding on to it for him for almost three months.
He’s only going to be in the city for a few days to sell at MightyCon and Katsuki asked to meet him there to save on the fucking insane cost of shipping because he’s a goddamn genius.
He can’t wait to own a piece of memorabilia only like a two hundred and twenty people in the ENTIRE WORLD own.
The thought makes him grin as he slips on his shoes and grabs his bag.
He runs downstairs and slips into his dad’s studio. The old man is sitting at his desk, frowning at a set of croquis in his sketchbook, but he smiles when he sees him come in.
Good morning son, he signs.
Katsuki flinches a little and signs back a quick ‘hey’.
He hates when his dad wants to practice, especially when he springs it on him like this…
Thankfully the old man sees he’s not in the mood and drops it.
“What’s up?” He glances at the clock, “This is a little late for you isn’t it?”
Katsuki frowns at the insinuation that he can’t properly manage his own fucking time, but opts to ignore it and shrugs.
“I got my thing today.” He reminds him instead.
His dad chuckles and adjusts his glasses.
“Oh yes,” he laughs, closing his sketchbook. “Your ‘thing’- it’s been a while since you’ve asked me to go to Mightycon. Are the panels super good this year or what?”
Katsuki shrugs again feeling a little defensive.
What does it matter how long it’s been? What’s he trying to say? That he’s too old for con? That it’s for babies? He’s just going to pick up a fucking order. That’s not that fucking weird. He doesn’t need to make such a big deal out of it…
His father looks over at him, brows furrowed.
He sighs softly and Katsuki bristles.
“What?” He snaps.
“Nothing son,” his dad replies, seeming suddenly a little concerned. “I just didn’t mean to upset you was all. Was it something I said?”
Katsuki flushes.
He’s not fucking upset!
He didn’t even fucking say anything!
“I’m not-“ he starts to snarl, but his dad cut him off with -
“-I didn’t mean to pry. Did you want your gloves?”
He relaxes slightly and nods.
He’s going in one of the 80’s summer editions of All Might’s Skyline Tour costumes and the leather gloves had been too much for his machine upstairs.
His dad had offered to finish the detailing for him on his big Singer down here and hadn’t really taken Katsuki’s ‘no’ for an answer.
He could have fucking done it himself. He’s not stupid, he knows how, but it’s whatever.
He dad is a little protective over his machines.
Even if he gave some bullshit excuse about wanting to “help out” Katsuki gets the feeling he doesn’t trust him not to fuck them up somehow.
He wouldn’t have. He’s great at sewing. He’s good at most things.
But it’s fine, it’s whatever.
He holds his hand out for the gloves.
His dad walks over to his sewing table and tosses him the big leather gloves from a pile of shit by one of his baskets.
Katsuki pockets them.
“You’re not going to check to make sure they fit?” His dad asks.
Katsuki frowns.
“Why?” He asks. “You made ‘em, and you’re the fucking best? They’re gonna fit.”
His dad’s face goes all dumb and soft and sappy like it does when he looks at puppies or tells corny-ass stories to his models about when he was a baby.
It’s super gross.
He doesn’t know what he fucking said to make him make that face.
He wishes he weren’t like this.
He clicks his tongue and turns to leave.
“Whatever. Thanks.” He calls over his shoulder. He hesitates at the doorway and turns around.
See you next week. He signs grudgingly.
His dad’s answering smile follows him out of the room.
——
He was really hoping to avoid the mom mini-boss fight in the kitchen, but the old bat has eyes everywhere and she stops him short with a sharp sound.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” She calls, waving a spatula menacingly at him. “You better sit your ass down and eat some breakfast.”
He scowls and moves to sit down at the island and eat as quickly as he can.
“You’re running late.” She points out disapprovingly. “I thought your little symposium thing opened at 10.”
“It’s not a symposium.” He snaps, tilting the plate he’s got in front of him up so his mom can scoop some eggs into it from the pile she’s got cooking on the stove. “It’s just a con. I’m not even going to the fucking panels I told you. I just need to pick something up.”
“I know, I know. You’re spending all this money just to get another toy.” She shakes her head, “I just bought you half a dozen of those things for your birthday Katsuki! You’re gonna need to learn to be more responsible with your cash, kid. We’re not gonna be around to mooch off of forever you know.”
He ducks his head and tries to ignore the way his stomach sours at her tone.
She said it was his money. He’s earned it fair and square doing all that modeling bullshit with her over the summer break and helping his dad out with the new line and the company shit; and besides-
“It’s not a toy.” He mumbles.
Toys are for kids.
They’re for fucking babies.
His mom makes a snorted skeptical sound at the back of her throat and rolls her eyes.
“Oh, of course not,” she laughs, “It’s a ‘figurine’ you’re waaaay too old to play with toys now.”
He looks up and glares at her, but she just grins and ruffles his hair.
“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that.” She cackles. “You want me to take you in the car so you’re not late?”
“I won’t be late.” He declares, pushing aside his plate and standing. “You’re just fucking holding me up with your bullshit.”
“Hey! You better watch your damn mouth you brat!” She snaps back, “You need to eat so you don’t pass out, it’s hot as shit out there, you know how you get!”
More than a literal fucking decade ago, when he’d first gotten his quirk and his body was adjusting to the changes he used to get dizzy spells- something to do with the hydrolysis of fats and oils in his body.
The process to make the glycerine products that make up his explosions would chew up all the nutrients he tried to put his body and before the dietitians and shit had sorted it out he kept trying pass out all the damn time.
His mom acts like that’s still a thing that happens, like he’s still a fucking toddler who hasn’t been to some of the best nutritionists in the country and been carefully monitoring his food intake for years now.
He seethes and she points her spatula at him again.
“Eat the fucking eggs, Katsuki,” she warns him. “You’re already late you might as well- what time did you even set your alarm for?”
He wouldn’t be late if she would just fucking let him go.
He’s mapped this all out, knows the exact route and can fucking HANDLE it.
He sits back down and eats fucking the eggs.
It’s easier not to fucking fight with her about it.
She never believes him anyways.
———
His mom ends up driving him to the hotel.
She bitches the whole time about what a massive inconvenience it is and how she’s going to have to sit in traffic for ages to get back and he slumps in the backseat and tries his best to tune her out.
“-And where’re your aids?” She asks when they finally turn into the street for the hotel and convention center. “Don’t tell me you left them because if we have to turn around-”
“-They’re in my pocket,” he mumbles, feeling his face heat.
“Ten-thousand-dollar, heat proof, impact resistant, custom hearing aids YOU insisted you have to have to do your damn schoolwork, and you just shoved them in your damn jeans?” She barks incredulously. “Katsuki do have any idea-”
“-They’re in their case mom, c’mon,” he scowls at her, “I need to charge ‘em.”
“You should’ve charged them last night!” She shakes her head, frowning at him through the rearview mirror, “You knew you were coming here! Things like that are super important Katsuki, you can’t leave shit to the fucking last minute! When are you going to start acting like a damn-”
“-Mom.” He interrupts her again. “This is it.“
They’ve finally FINALLY reached the fucking hotel.
Already a bunch of other freaks and geeks are milling around in their cosplays and more people in hero merch are streaming in from the streets.
His mom pulls up to the front lobby of the hotel and bites her lip.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to just come pick you up?” She asks for the millionth time. “I can bring you back first thing tomorrow. A kid like you shouldn’t spend the night by yourself across town like this-”
“Mom. Oh my- I’ll be fine.” He insists flushing red. “I been on like a million school trips-“
“-that’s different that’s for your fucking education,” she snaps and then looks out all the con-goers in their costumes with clear distrust. “Just- just text me if you need anything, okay? I’ll come fucking get you. I don’t care what time it is.”
You’d think the place was butt-to-nut with fucking villains and not packed full of smelly nobodies trying to out-nerd each other.
He rolls his eyes, trying hard not to think about her words.
A kid like you…
It’s probably not the extras she’s fucking thinks are trouble.
He’s been hearing it a lot more recently, shit about his attitude…
His mom turns all the way around in her seat and smiles at him.
“Alright, alright. I’ll get off your case. Don’t forget to take pictures in your little costume for me and your dad.” She grins. “I bet you’re gonna look way better than these weirdos-”
Probably.
He looks better than most people.
But he nods because she looks expectant.
“Have fun, brat.” She says fondly. “If you run out of cash or anything let me know, I’ll wire you some more, ‘kay?”
He nods again and finally gets out of the car.
Love you son. She signs and he rolls his eyes.
Love you too. Go away.
She cackles at him and drives away, and Katsuki turns to face the hotel.
Finally.
Free at fucking last.
————
You can’t usually check into a hotel until the afternoon, but he paid some fee for early check-in and so he gets into his room and into his costume pretty quick.
He feels a little lame and stupid putting the thing on; he shouldn’t- he wears a costume basically every fucking day, and a bunch of other people are out there doing the same thing, and some of those guys are like three times his age and have no excuse for wearing anything like a costume- but still it does feel a little weird putting on one of All Might’s.
Especially after all these fucking years.
Especially since he kind of knows the guy now.
But this one had always been his favorite because it was a stealth uniform and the all black against the red outlines was just really fucking cool…
It’s the only other time besides that one summer when he was doing the Carolina Missions in America during the Post-Institute Period of his career that he didn’t wear a cape too!
He’d looked like a badass.
Katsuki’s own costume is kind, well kind of modeled after this one? and he figures it might be kind of cool to wear it at least once.
And it should be fine. He is all the way across town on a weekday. Literally anybody who could recognize him is in school right now.
Not that he would give a fuck or anything! He just hates when people crawl up his ass with fucking questions and shit.
Anyways it’s too late now, he didn’t really bring anything else to wear so he wouldn’t bitch out and not-
-Not that he would have! He was gonna wear the thing regardless!
It’s whatever. He’s in the stupid fucking costume.
He’s gonna go pick up his order now!!
He grabs his bag and all the shit he needs to pick up his badge and heads down into the lobby to go line up with all the other losers to get it.
He picks up a program too to see if they have any interesting panels today.
You know, in case he hast to wait for the lines to die down to get into the Merch Halls.
A couple of the later ones in the day catch his eye.
That’s good because there’s one other thing at con he thinks he wants to do and that’s…pretty late in the day.
It would be better to kill the time while he waits for it.
He could go to some of these events, maybe.
If he doesn’t have anything better to do.
He’s already here after all.
He shouldn’t waste his money.
——
The Artist Alley is packed full of absolutely insanely cool shit, not just All Might stuff, but all sorts of other heroes he doesn’t really give a fuck about too.
Someone’s selling Crimson Riot shit, and he buys a pin for that weird fuck Kirishima who won’t leave him alone anymore.
The shitty-haired weirdo talks about this guy all the time.
Maybe he can bribe him to shut the fuck up with it when he gets back.
With that thought in mind, he buys him a poster and some other shit too.
Maybe if he buys him enough shit at once it’ll be distracting enough that he’ll stop trying to hang out with him at lunch.
He gets himself some shit too; you know, stickers, and stuff.
There’s a poster of All Might punching the shit out of Hardline that looks really badass and he figures he might as well pick it up.
His closet is fucking crammed with these things. He doesn’t really put them up, but they’re kind of nice to have you know, in case he ever wants to change out his decor or something.
Maybe someday when he moves out, he’ll get some of them framed or something.
By the time he’s done looking at everything, they’ve finally opened up the vendor’s hall and he goes inside with everybody else.
He typically prefers the artist alley just because it supports you know, local businesses and shit that’s good for the economy. Plus having custom one-of-a-kind shit nobody else can have is way better than being a generic loser with all the same crap.
Still, it is pretty cool to look at all the imports and all the other cool shit from out west you can’t get here in Japan.
They get different product deals and All Might’s career out there was for so long that a lot of his collectibles can’t even be unlocked unless you have access to these markets.
He spends more money than he probably should, but he was emotionally prepared for this eventuality and he doesn’t give a fuck what his mom thinks.
Eventually, the time comes for him to head towards the seller’s stall to go pick up his order.
His booth is fucking awesome, packed with a bunch of vintage and antique collectibles from heroes from before the All Might and even the pre-quirk era in special cases under glass with their certifications of authenticity.
Katsuki sneaks a peak at those.
Faded old American comics lay under glass with badass looking figures in red and gold armour or else lurking in shadows with billowing black capes, looking over their grimy cities…
Damn.
Someday he’s gonna own some of these.
When he’s the number one and really starts stacking cash.
Unsurprisingly none of these losers really know how much of a gold mine this guy is sitting on, and so his stall is basically empty except for some runty little nobody hunched over in the corner looking through a box of antique toys and muttering to himself like a creep under his breath.
Ugh. Why are all nerds so fucking bizarre?
Katsuki approaches the vendor and says.
“I’m here to pick up my order.”
The guy looks him over skeptically raising an eyebrow.
Katsuki doesn’t have his shit yet, so he resists the urge to sneer back.
“You bought something?” The man says, in heavily accented Japanese.
“Yes,” he says back in English (he’s been practicing in case some bullshit like this should happen) “It should be under Bakugo, Katsuki Bakugo.”
The weirdo in the corner jerks and freezes, but the vendor’s face clears, and he grins.
“Oh, yeah, right on time.” He smiles. “Been hanging on to this bad boy for a minute. Glad it’s going to a real fan though; it took ages for somebody to pick it up.”
He goes behind one of the tables and picks up a cardboard box.
Katsuki takes it reverently and the guy’s smile widens.
“Go ahead kid,” he urges. “Open it, check it out.”
He was gonna do that anyway he didn’t need to be told like a child, but it doesn’t matter.
The boxes is in great condition, still plastic wrapped, and everything.
The figure inside looks incredible. They were each hand painted, and the artist spent months sculpting the original cast by hand.
All Might holds his fist high over his head with his signature big grin, the kaiju villain Dreadnought lies crushed under his boot; another victory for the fucking greatest hero to ever do it.
This had been the fight that had made his fame in America.
It had never even been broadcast in Japan; it’s barely a footnote in his biographies these days, but Katsuki had gotten a hold of some of the old footage and read accounts of the battle online.
This was a hard won victory.
A triumph, like the name suggests.
And basically flawless.
He grins at the figure, unable to help himself.
This shit’s a piece of history right here.
He’s so glad he thought of this.
Definitely fucking worth it!
“Nice right,” the guy says smugly. “They didn’t make as much stuff during his silver age. You’re lucky to even see one of these.”
He knows.
Katsuki has spent like, years trawling the sites, checking some of the most obscure forums and weirdest places on the Internet, looking for one of these.
The dork in the back of the booth gasps loudly at the mention of the silver age and gives the tiniest jealous little moan.
Katsuki feels a little bit like gloating over his prize, since this nerd apparently gets it, and he turns to look at the guy so he can rub it in his face.
As soon as he meets those big green eyes all the blood drains from his face.
It can’t be-
It isn’t fucking.
“Deku.”
The fucking nerd blushes bright red under his freckles and gives him a nervous smile.
“Ka-k-kacchan!” He smiles sheepishly. N-nice cosplay!”
Katsuki stares at him.
He didn’t recognize him right away because of the costume (and the fact that he’s bulking up and his body no longer matches up to the scrawny little shrimp he’s used to seeing in his periphery).
To his horror, Katsuki sees he’s chosen something from the Goddamn Skyline tour too!
The colors clash horribly with his hair and the cape’s hem is a little crooked, the nerd clearly made it himself.
Katsuki ignores his stammering as he tries to explain what the fuck he thinks he’s doing here and stares at his gloves instead.
They’re white and leather because Deku is a sucker for the details, and some of the stitching is a little uneven, but that’s probably because he’s obviously punched them by hand and meticulously sewn them together.
It makes him feel stupid.
He could have done that he realises. He could’ve just not been a lazy fuck and put in the work so he didn’t have to come here in something done by his dad like he was goddamn child.
Why didn’t he think of that?
Fucking Deku.
The thought of his fucked up scarred hands carefully lining up the leather and putting them together flashes suddenly into his mind.
He stares at them hidden away by his ugly fucking crooked homemade gloves.
The nerd’s always talked with his damn hands, since they were kids.
They’re so much different now, broken, scarred, strong, getting stronger.
Hands that are finally starting keep up with all the quick-thinking bullshit in his brain.
Hands that are getting dangerous, too much like his own.
The thought makes his blood boil, and he snarls, cutting off whatever the fuck he’s been trying to stutter out.
God he just never shuts the fuck up.
He grabs his box, whirls on the spot without letting him finish, and storms off.
He doesn’t give a fuck; he’s got what he came here for; he’s going the fuck home.
He doesn’t get two feet before he hears it:
“Kacchan! Wait!”
His reaction to those two words is visceral.
He’s heard them for most of his goddamn life and his feet jerk and slow before he can even think to stop himself.
He practically shakes with fury as that single moment’s hesitation lets the nerd catch back up with him.
Stupid!
He’s a stupid fucking idiot!
Deku looks at him like he’s terrified he’s gonna drop all the shit in his hands and lunge at him which is gratifying because he at least acknowledges he’s dangerous.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I- I didn’t m-mean to surprise you like that.”
Katsuki’s actually GOING to drop all this shit and throttle the life out of him because WHERE THE FUCK DOES HE GET OFF APOLOGIZING FOR THIS??!
And “SURPRISE”?!?
What the fuck is he insinuating? That he SCARED him? That Katsuki is easily startledlike some nervous, fragile little npc????
He’s a goddamn HERO!
He’s gonna be the best in fucking WORLD!
What the fuck does he think he’s playing at??
And for that matter-
“What the fuck are you doing here!” He spits at him, furiously.
Stupid Deku looks confused for a moment.
“I- I come every year?” He answers looking down at his boots. “If- if anything I sh-should be asking what Kacchan’s…doing here…”
He trails off but then takes a deep breath and looks back up at him.
His big dumb green eyes aren’t even the slightest bit afraid despite the tremor he’s got to his voice.
He seems curious more than anything.
Katsuki is curious too, loathe as he is to admit it.
“You still come every year?” He asks.
How the fuck does he manage that? Tickets are pricey and his mom basically lived up his ass until he got to UA.
Or he thought she did…
It’s been a long time since he’s actually seen the woman, he suddenly thinks.
It makes something weird churn in his stomach at the thought.
Deku just shrugs, oblivious his sudden flash of guilt and smiles.
“Your…uh…your parents still send me money,” he admits after a moment. “You know, for my birthday and I- I buy my ticket and…come.”
Katsuki doesn’t even know what to say to that.
He’s too appalled to fucking speak.
His PARENTS??
Katsuki hasn’t had Deku over in- in fucking YEARS.
The last time they were all in the same room together Katsuki was still spitting out fucking baby teeth!
His parents???
Deku seems to read the shock on his face and smiles as he shrugs helplessly.
“They’re very kind,” he tries, “Auntie and my mom are st-still friends you know, she comes over to our place and stuff…so.”
Ah.
That. Well, yeah, that makes sense.
Give your friend’s kid presents, never mind what he spends the fucking money on.
“What are you doing here?” Deku asks again sounding slightly desperate, clearly hoping for a change of topic.
Katsuki scowls.
“I just came to pick some shit up I ordered.” He tells him, “I’m about to go home.”
“oh.”
Katsuki stares down at Deku as the nerd seems to deflate before his very eyes.
He seems…disappointed with his answer.
He doesn’t know why the fuck he would be.
They shift awkwardly on their feet for a moment before the crowd forces them to look alive.
Katsuki turns to head back to the hotel and grab his shit (there goes a fuck-ton of money down the drain, geez) when he spots the dumb little nerd trotting to keep up with him.
He turns to glower at him, but the little dork just makes a stubborn seeming kind of face and follows him out of the vendor’s hall back into the main convention center.
He needs to get off his damn ass, this isn’t a fucking escort mission!
“What?” Katsuki finally snaps when he realises he’s STILL following him as he heads for the escalators.
Deku bites his lip. Katsuki’s eyes track the movement without meaning to.
“What did you buy?”
He stares at him incredulously.
Is he really trying to-
-to make conversation??
What the fuck even is this right now?
“It’s just- I uh overheard and-” Deku babbles and then takes a deep breath- “Can I see it? I’ve never seen one in person and-”
Katsuki’s stomach twists; the look Deku is giving him makes him say something stupid.
“Yeah.” He cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “Just shut the fuck up for a minute.”
Deku immediately clamps his mouth shut and looks wide eyed and excited.
Katsuki leads him to one of the little cafe tables by a pop-up food stall and sits down so he can open the box.
He’s not really sure why he’s doing this except-
“Wow,” Deku whispers softly, looking at the box with open awe.
His dumb face flushes, and he squeals and starts to kick his feet under the table the way he still does when he’s really excited.
“This is so cool! They even got his third head fin! A lot of the later reproductions forget to put that in! And you can see the original style boots he used wear before the upgrades and-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki smirks, putting his head into his palm and leering smugly at him. “I know, it’s fucking awesome- why do you think I got it?”
“Kacchan is amazing! There’s only 220 of these in the entire WORLD.”
Deku beams at him and he preens a little under his undisguised wonder and appreciation.
The little shitnerd gets how cool this is.
He’s probably the only one in this entire fucking place who really does.
“I got it for basically nothing too,” he confides, “The guy says he tried to sell it at auction a few years ago and it didn’t move because of the-”
“-Because of the bleaching on the side of the box here?” Deku blurts excitedly turning it to show where the colour’s just a little off on one side of the back. “It must have sat too close to a window or something. But it’s still wrapped! And the figure inside is pristine!”
Those were his exact thoughts.
It was way too good not to pass up.
Deku wriggles with pleasure and stares down at the figure in open delight. He looks up excitedly and blurts.
“What else did you get?”
Katsuki ends up showing him his entire haul and Deku gasps and coos appreciatively at every purchase.
It’s a lot like old times when they were brats here crowing over their finds.
Deku hauls him to one of the pop-up lockers and shows him his shit too which is…admittedly pretty okay.
He likes pretty gaudy shit and goes mostly for smaller items, but they’re fun- and he did find some funny stickers Katsuki kind of wishes he’d seen.
His shit is definitely better though.
It gets hot and Katsuki gets up to buy a drink while Deku sits and picks over some of the smaller items at the bottom of his bags.
He picks up one of the Crimson Riot pins and looks at it curiously.
“What’s this?” He asks.
Katsuki shrugs.
“I got it for that shitty haired shark so he’d leave me alone,” he tells him. “Damn guy never fucking shuts up, and he keeps bringing those other shits by at lunch.”
Deku’s grin fades a little at the edges and he goes still.
He stares at the pin.
“You and Kirishima-kun are close, huh?” He says quietly, “It’s…nice that Kacchan’s making friends.”
He looks a little wistful and sad and it makes Katsuki feel weird for some reason.
He thrusts the water bottle he grabbed out of the vending machine at him to distract him.
“Here.” He grunts. “It’s hot as fuck.”
Deku fumbles at the bottle like a clumsy loser and stares at him in surprise.
“Thank…you?” He tilts his head.
Katsuki grabs another bottle and sits down to start packing his shit back up into the box.
Deku sips quietly at his bottle and does the same.
“You know,” he tells him nervously once all their shit is packed and he starts to stand to go, “That Tantanmen pop-up is still here. It’s on this floor…”
Katsuki pauses and looks into his desperate, hopeful face and finds himself saying-
“I guess I should eat before I go.”
——
“You’re so full of shit!” Katsuki howls as Deku giggles breathlessly next to him.
It’s several hours later, they’ve eaten, been to a couple of the panels, and are in the game hall playing retro DDR while they wait for the car show to clear out a little.
Deku prefers to lean back on the bar and go for speed, but Katsuki thinks it’s a handicap and goes all-in for landing the combos while actually trying to move.
Their scores are within points of each other and neither of them can afford to take their eyes off the screen for even a second-
“I’m serious,” Deku insists, “I asked him myself and he said his favourite movie was Ultra Infinium.”
“That’s fucking insane,” Katsuki executes a flawless combo and does a showy backflip just for the fun of it while Deku dives to go for a handstand instead. “That’s the worst movie!”
They both get the points, and Deku laughs at his annoyed scowl.
“The actor didn’t even look like him!”
“I know,” Deku sighs, “But that’s what he told me- want to switch pads?”
“Yeah alright.”
They each wait for the downbeat and Deku ducks so Katsuki can jump over him and take over his pad.
He does a pretty cool little backspin slide thing and takes his and they both turn to lean back onto the bar and jump up at the same time on the next beat.
They’re gathering a big crowd; a couple of weirdos are taking pictures.
Katsuki ignores them and says:
“I can’t believe he did the voice-acting for Star Hound! I never knew that; I figured it was some nobody with a voice quirk.”
Deku’s eyes light up and he shoots a quick glance at him.
He doesn’t miss a fucking step the little freak.
“I know! I thought that was cool! He said he’d never done anything like that and wanted to try it out. Apparently, it was a lot of fun!”
“You loved that fucking cartoon.” Katsuki jeers, spinning around and hitting another combo. “Did you tell him you used to cry when that dog sidekick guy sacrificed himself?”
“Howler was a wolf! You know that don’t pretend like you don’t! We watched that movie every day!” Deku teases, “And yeah, I told him. All Might still keeps in touch with the whole cast apparently- you remember Quick the little bunny sidekick? His voice actor’s an actual hero now! He works out of Singapore, his hero name is Moonrabbit!”
“No shit?” Katsuki muses, impressed, “Huh. Wild. You wanna switch back or-?”
“Yeah, that’s fine, we’ll switch for the last combo.”
Deku moves into a butterfly kick to and Katsuki ducks this time.
They both end up with perfect scores.
Deku gives him a smug little grin and raises his eyebrows.
The losers behind them all clap and cheer like they’ve done something special.
It’s fucking annoying.
“Best out of ten?” The nerd asks.
“Nah, I’m over it ,” he shakes his head, “Let’s go look at some fucking cars.”
They leave the arcade portion of the hall and head up the escalator.
Deku bites off one of his gloves so he can run his hand through his hair and fluff out his sweaty curls.
Katsuki leans on the railing and watches him out of the corner of his eye.
His hair’s getting kind of long, it’s always been untamed, the sweat at his temples is making it curl even more there.
It all looks very soft…
He wonders idly what it would feel like if he ran his hands through it.
He used to all the time when they were kids…
Deku catches him staring and gives him a funny look.
“What?” He asks, “Do I have something on my face?
Katsuki grunts and looks away.
Deku smiles and hums happily under his breath.
He has no idea what the hell he’s still doing here.
Except that it was kind of his idea.
Somewhere along in the day he realised there were 30,000 people at this event and in that anonymity, he could possibly afford a truce to share space with the nerd and do some con shit together since he comes every year and knows the lay of the land.
As long as they never, ever speak of this again to anyone for any reason…
He’d decided they could do a few events together or some shit.
Deku had been enthusiastic to the point of ecstasy.
He swore to never bring it up again, and then promptly dragged him out to a half dozen panels and now to the arcade.
The car show was Katsuki’s idea.
It sounds cool: a bunch of classic American imports and home-grown sports cars done up with custom hero wraps and shit?
That sounds badass.
It IS badass. Though Deku mostly rocks back and forth on his heels and bounces along beside him as he peers at their engines and checks out the designs.
Cars aren’t really his thing.
They’ve compromised a couple times today though; both choosing events or panels to watch and do like in the old days when they used to come with Katsuki’s dad.
It’s been…easier than he likes to fucking admit falling back into those habits.
The years between them had just poured away as if they had never been at all.
It’s unnerving.
It’s fucking weird.
Katsuki teeters between being freaked out by it and laughing at the dumb shit Deku still does.
All his clumsy weirdness used to annoy the shit out of him.
Today it’s been kind of…
“I like this one,” Deku declares, squatting down to look at a car a few rows ahead of where Katsuki is admiring a sleek set of Kawasaki’s wrapped in All Might’s Golden Age colours. “I like the little horse on the front- wait no! The grill- that’s the term! Right, Kacchan?”
Katsuki glances up and snorts.
Cute.
“Yeah, and that’s a Mustang you fucking heathen,” he tells him, “They should kick your sorry ass out of here for not knowing that.”
“Cars aren’t really my thing,” Deku hums, wandering back to him. “Why are there motorcycles here? I thought it was a car show?”
“Because they’re fucking awesome,” Katsuki says, absently, “It don’t fucking matter- they’re badass.”
“I guess so,” Deku sighs, “I do like that the seats are the cape, that’s pretty clever.”
He wanders away again.
The nerd never could sit still when he was bored.
Guess that’s still true.
“What kind of car is this, Kacchan?”
Katsuki looks up again.
“That’s a fucking Skyline Deku. I know you fucking know that! I have one on the shelf above my bed!”
“I knew that! I did! I just…forgot.”
And so it goes until Katsuki gets fed up with his chatter and feeds him a steamed bun out of their acquired bag of snacks to shut him the fuck up.
He grabs his wrist for good measure and hauls him along like a dumb fucking baby, so he doesn’t walk off again.
He goes very still and quiet as he eats.
Katsuki guesses the bun was maybe a little bit spicy, because his face gets really fucking red too.
Whatever. They can grab some more water after this.
Speaking of-
“You got anything else you wanna do?” He asks him.
Deku makes a thoughtful sound.
“That trivia thing looked fun,” he muses, “They usually do card packs for prizes- we could split them.”
Katsuki smirks.
“That sure we’re gonna win, huh nerd?”
Deku’s got a new smile he sees sometimes during training or at times like these - cocky with a little bit of an edge to it.
It does weird things to Katsuki’s chest.
“What’s the matter Kacchan?” He taunts, “You lose all your trivia skills when you got “too cool” to do cons? It’s fine, you can cheer for me instead, I might give you a holo I don’t need.”
He scrunches his nose up in a dumb little teasing smirk and it makes his freckles even more obvious.
Katsuki has the strangest urge to just lean down and- and bite them or something.
“Like hell I will,” he bumps their shoulders, “And just for that smart fucking mouth I ain’t sharing dick with you when I win.”
They end up running through all the trivia questions at the event and have to take questions from the fucking crowd.
Even then it still ends in a goddamn tie.
The ref seems almost dazed as he hands over the card packs the winner was supposed to get.
They rip the packs on the floor by the door and divvy them up to take home.
Deku still ends up giving him most of the holos because he’s a fucking sap.
He blushes furiously as he stammers about “souvenirs” and “earning them fair and square, Kacchan”.
Katsuki keeps them.
You never know, they could be valuable someday.
——
At nine o clock they open the night market.
He and Deku can’t go inside of course, because you have to show ID, but they hang out in the halls and make comments about the costumes they see passing them by.
Katsuki can’t believe they’ve spent all damn day together.
Deku can’t seem to believe it either.
He keeps looking over at him in amazement, like he doesn’t trust his eyes or something.
It’s starting to piss him off.
“What?” He snaps when he catches him mooning at him like a little psycho for like the tenth time.
“Nothing.” Deku blurts quickly.
He picks at a stray thread at the edge of his cape purposely looking away.
He’s starting to look a little worn down after trudging around all day in All Might’s super heavy costume.
It’s probably time for them to call it a day.
Besides he should probably ditch the nerd before he-
“It’s getting pretty late,” Katsuki says.
Deku leans back on his hands and laughs like he’s said something funny.
“Kacchan, it’s barely nine.” He points out.
“That’s late, nerd.”
“Only for you and your old-man bedtime.” He smiles softly at him, obviously teasing.
Katsuki scowls.
So, what if he has healthy sleep hygiene? Is that a crime? Why does everybody want to crawl up his ass about it?
Nobody has any right to talk.
He sees them in the morning shambling around like a bunch of Raccoon City fucking rejects.
Meanwhile, he’s Leon Scott motherfucking Kennedy ready to kick their asses the minute they sit down.
Deku can kiss his ass.
“When’s your mom gonna pick you up?” Katsuki asks him.
Deku looks up confused, then he looks like he’s remembered something, but he doesn’t share it with the class.
“Oh. Uh, soon,” he says, but he suddenly looks shifty as fuck.
“You forget to tell her you were staying this late?” Katsuki guesses.
Deku bites his lip.
“Yeah,” he says. “Something like that.”
Katsuki stands and dusts off his pants.
“Well, don’t let me hold you up loser,” he says.
Deku looks a little disappointed but stands as well.
“I guess it really is kind of late for you huh?” He murmurs.
“It’s just late,” Katsuki repeats firmly.
Like in general, damn.
For a moment, Deku looks like he’s going to say something or maybe ask Katsuki a question, but then he just bites his lip and nods.
“Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “I guess we should call it, huh?”
They should.
They stand there awkwardly, trying to think of what to say, of how to end their odd encounter.
It feels unceremonious to just…walk away.
“I-” Deku starts, pauses, starts again. “I had fun! It was nice, doing this again with you.”
He ducks his head a little and looks at him from up under his lashes.
They’re so long and…
Katsuki feels his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.
Has he…have they…always been this-?
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with him?
He must be getting tired.
He shifts on his feet and nods.
“Yeah. See you in class.” He mumbles.
He turns around and walks off.
“Goodnight Kacchan.”
———-
The ride back down to his hotel room is quiet in the elevator.
He feels restless and flustered, but he figures it’s probably nerves for what he’s got planned.
There is one other thing he wanted to do at MightCon.
Every year at the end of the night on Saturday, there’s a rave.
That didn’t really matter much when they were brats and toddling along behind his dad, but it matters to him now.
It matters a lot actually.
He’s never been to anything like this before. Shit like dancing and partying isn’t really his thing but… He maintains a healthy curiosity for the con rave from fucking grade school.
What is it like in there?
It’s probably lame. A bunch of gross, sweaty nerds crammed into one place with pounding music playing...
It could fuck up his aids too.
They are really expensive and finely calibrated, but he still kind of wants to go.
He has to satisfy that grade school part of his brain to see what it’s like.
And he did… technically pack an outfit for it.
He hurries into his hotel room and rips open his duffel bag to stare at the shirt.
He had not made any of this shit. He’d ordered it online and let it be delivered to a carrier box like it was something criminal.
Whatever. He just hadn’t wanted his parents to ask him any questions.
He bought the thing on a whim.
A dumb one.
Trawling on the Internet had to led him to a costume shop where he’d spotted it:
The familiar red details on the black background- the stealth costume, only this time replicated in sparkly sequins on a mesh shirt.
The item description had made him laugh under his breath: For Rave Cosplay.
In the end, it had just been too tempting to resist.
He could probably even call it a safety precaution.
It was always hot as balls at con and he imagined he was going to be super goddamn sweaty on a dance floor.
His hands might as well be considered live rounds drenched in sweat; he was being safe.
This would help cool him down, and he would still be in costume.
He could still wear the pants he made, technically all he had to do was switch shirts and he’d be good to go.
Except he’d maybe…ordered different pants for this though.
They’re sparkly and uh, tighter than he likes to wear things. You know, to go better with the shirt.
They were the recommended match on the website.
It’d bothered him not have the matching set.
The Rave starts at 11 and goes to 2 in the fucking morning which is…really really late.
But that’s actually why he booked the hotel room so that he could just come in and crash.
Check out’s at 11 and he won’t have class…
He’s planned this out very carefully…
“Fuck.” He swears under his breath, ripping off his costume before he has time to think about it and hurrying into the bathroom to wrench on the tap and shower.
He takes the longest shower of his life, letting the jets beat the shit out of his back and fumbling around for his hair shit to make sure the hard water doesn’t give him split ends.
He turns on the tv to distract him while he dries off and finds some mindless rerun to tune into.
This is stupid.
This is so fucking stupid…
He decides to order room service and thinks he’ll have a nap too.
If he sleeps through the fucking rave he’ll take it as a sign he wasn’t meant to fucking go.
How’s that for a fucking plan.
——
He wakes up 15 minutes after 11.
Still plenty of time to go to the goddamn party.
His heart’s pounding with sudden fucking nerves as he fights his way into the goddamn pants (how the fuck do people wear shit like this? It’s so fucking tight?) and crams the ends into his combat boots.
He glances at his face in the mirror in the bathroom and then at a little black bag he stole off his mom’s dresser a few years ago he’s never given back.
There’s eyeliner and other makeup shit in there…he uses it to fill in the gaps between his actual hero mask when he wears it…
“Fuck!” He snarls, grabs the stupid thing, rips it open and finds the pencil before he can second-guess himself.
He refuses to look at himself again until he’s done getting ready and has finally stuffed himself into the stupid, shimmery mesh shirt.
He looks weird as fuck.
He doesn’t really recognize himself.
But, that’s kind of the point of something like this? Right?
To just like, do dumb bullshit and be- be someone different? For just a few hours?
He studies the stranger in the mirror for a moment.
He doesn’t look… bad, he guesses.
Just really fucking weird.
He grimaces and yanks open the door to stomp down the fucking hall and out into the goddamn lobby.
He’s already committed to this. He’s just gotta fucking DO IT already.
There’s people all over the fucking place, some of them drunk or getting there, most of them not wearing much.
A few of them call cheerfully at him about his “cute cosplay- that’s so fun dude!” and he ignores them.
He marches straight up to the third floor of the hotel and checks when he sees the huge fucking line.
It’s almost midnight and the queue still snakes down one hall and into another.
That’s fucking crazy.
He should turn around. He should go back to sleep or just go home.
He stands in line.
The extras around him chatter and laugh and call out to their buddies as they pass by, completely ignoring him.
It makes him relax a little.
He’s just another stranger here. Just another half-naked geek in a sea of dumbasses headed in for the Rave.
This is fine.
It’s whatever, it’s okay.
He can feel the music under his feet, it’s so loud inside the actual venue.
Every time the doors burst open to let people in or out, he can hear the crowd roaring inside.
He turns his aids down to help mitigate the feedback and wishes he’d thought to bring gloves.
Someone giggles as they come out of the rave and staggers over to him motioning for him to hold out his hands.
He eyes the girl suspiciously but obliges and is rewarded when she slaps a bunch of glowing and beaded bracelets on his wrists with a very tipsy wink.
She wobbles off without saying a word and he examines them.
They’re cheap and ugly and look like the kind of shit people used to trade with their friends in grade school.
The glow ones are kind of cool though.
They’re orange and green and remind him of something, but he can’t quite put his finger on what.
In the end he doesn’t take them off because people keep wandering over to the line and trading them with him and everybody around him.
He lets it happen because it requires no real conversation on his part. They just point to the fucking ones they like and hold their wrists up to show off theirs.
He loses the ugliest ones he had pretty quickly and ends up with a few he might actually keep once this is over.
It helps pass the time while he waits in line which he realises might actually be the point.
Eventually though he makes it to the front.
The bouncer npc asks if he’s got a bag and if he can show ID.
When he answers no to both questions, he slaps a big red band on his wrist so he can’t buy any drinks and lets him through the doors.
He steps inside and looks cautiously around.
It’s like walking into a fucking oven.
There’s people packed all the way to the front where a massive stage has a DJ and a bunch of huge screens run through a series of visuals.
He can feel the beat in his lungs it’s so damn loud- there’s lasers and strobing lights and people are waving around glow sticks and paenbong and all sorts of shit- it’s cool as fuck.
“Fuck,” he murmurs appreciatively under his breath and shuffles a little further into the space.
People towards the front are packed in tight, but here on the outskirts of the crowd it seems there’s an understanding to give people space.
He watches the crowd ripple and move and sing along to the music when they know the words to the songs…
It’s different.
A huge group of people trails through the crowd in a massive conga line following a guy in a giant inflatable All Might costume that’s strung all-over in Christmas lights.
He snorts loudly as it passes by him and notes how everyone seems to know it’s completely fucking ridiculous, but they’re playing along anyways.
Someone up near the front has some sort of quirk that lets them create huge, jiggly balloons in funny shapes and people are bouncing them around on top of the crowd as fast as they can make them.
Every time they pop, they shower the unfortunate assholes underneath with glitter and confetti, but nobody seems to give much of a fuck.
They all cheer.
He decides fuck it when he finally recognizes one of the songs as some pop mix thing Mina makes them all listen to and wades into the crowd to dance along with all the other losers.
It’s mindless; jumping up and down to the music, singing loudly with the rest of the other maniacs whenever he recognizes something, reaching up to bat at the balloons and plushies and all the other bullshit being thrown around, it’s fun.
He laughs his ass off with the rest when the DJ gives the crowd a stupid wink and plays fucking sandstorm.
He laughs even harder when he hears the Tetris theme over some trap remix later.
People at the front are handsy and starting to grind all over each other, but his red bracelet might as well be labelled ‘fodder repel’ because everybody keeps their damn hands to themselves and he’s allowed to dance in peace.
He trades bracelets with a guy dressed like Jeanist except in Hello Kitty pink with matching accessories and gets a light up crown from some furry in a Midnight get-up.
Some other guy hands him a Mirko plush (it’s adorable) he decides to keep to give to one of his idiots later (or keep it maybe), and he gasps with all the rest when the DJ starts to play the All Might chant theme.
The whole place erupts into noise as everybody throws their hands up and starts to shout the words at the top of their lungs.
Katsuki can feel himself grinning as he bellows along with the rest, trying to find space to do the choreography and accidentally bumping into someone trying to do the same thing at the back of the crowd.
The minute their eyes meet they both freeze in horror.
It couldn’t be.
Not fucking here; not again!
The universe absolutely hates him.
He looks into the green eyes staring at his in open and undisguised terror.
“Deku.”
“K-kacchan!?”
This cannot be fucking happening.
They gape at each other in sheer disbelief.
Deku’s face goes slack and kind of cross-eyed as he looks him over.
“Nice cosplay…” he says, dazed.
Katsuki wants to DIE.
He wants to KILL him.
“What the fuck-!” He starts to snarl and then stops because something is wrong.
The nerd looks…different somehow, weird in a way he can’t quite put his finger on.
It takes him a whole minute to realize he’s taller for some reason, and then his brain finally catches back up with his eyes and he looks at what the little dork is wearing.
He’s in fucking PLATFORMS- huge, red chunky leather boots with light-up soles and little dangly charms- they’re so tall they put him at head height with him.
They have fucking heels and-
Holy SHIT.
Izuku Fucking Midoriya blushes so red he thinks he’s going to pass out and covers his face with his hands.
He probably should because the little shit isn’t wearing any goddamn clothes.
He’s got on those rave boots and- and fishnets, sparkly, sequined fishnets that go up his long (long) legs and disappear into the tiniest black shorts Katsuki’s ever seen.
He tries to find words, but his brain just keeps skipping like a record every time he opens his mouth.
He’s in an oversized t-shirt, you can barely see his tiny little shorts and he’s just-
“What the fuck?” Katsuki repeats faintly.
His face feels hot.
His mouth is so dry.
He can’t stop looking at Deku’s legs, his bare, freckled shoulders.
He’s got like, really nice legs. Like, Katsuki objectively knew that maybe- but HOLY SHIT!
He’s never seen this much of the nerd in his entire life and-
-And he just realized his fucking shirt says RAVE SHIRT in big sparkly green letters.
He fucking HATES him!
“Kacchan,” he sees Deku moan in horror when he finally looks up from his hands (it’s too loud to really hear, but he’s been reading this dipshit’s lips for years), “You’re supposed to be in bed!”
Katsuki gapes.
“You’re supposed to be at your damn house!” He howls! “What the hell are you doing here!?”
“I-I.” Deku looks embarrassed, and he seems to struggle with what to say to explain himself.
Katsuki takes one look at his flustered expression and understands.
The nerd always comes to the Rave.
He’s been dressing up and he comes here to dance.
Every fucking year.
For God knows how fucking long now.
He tries to picture him a year back, mousy and trembling with his sniveling little crybaby tears and finds to his horror that he can.
He can imagine him here, in those teeny shorts and some other dumb shirt dancing around with a bunch of fucking naked strangers.
The thought makes him want to scream; it makes him want to punch him right in his pretty pink mouth.
Some of the dancers nearby bump into Deku’s back and he teeters a little in his big dumb red boots.
Katsuki catches his elbows, so he doesn’t eat shit and flushes at how close they suddenly are.
There’s glitter in the nerd’s hair and on his shoulders.
He’s still super red and keeps biting his lips.
They’re shiny, even in this shit lighting.
He must have put something on them.
Katsuki can’t stop staring.
He feels like a goddamn goon.
Deku’s eyes are on everything but him- the floor, the walls, the dancers, the exits- the little freak looks like he’s trying to calculate the quickest route to escape.
For some reason that just pisses him off more.
“Deku!” He says and Deku’s eyes snap to his.
“K-kacchan?” He winces. He looks hunted.
That’s-
This is fucking stupid.
“Here.” He huffs, shoving the Mirko plush at him. Deku takes it looking deeply confused.
He shouldn’t. He comes here every year apparently. He should know the fucking drill.
Speaking of-
He thrusts his wrist roughly between them.
“Fucking pick one!” He barks. Deku looks bewildered. He stares down at his arm like Katsuki’s asked him to chop it off.
“Wha-?”
“-The bracelets, dumbass.” He grits out. “Fucking trade me or whatever.”
Still gaping like a goddamn moron, the nerd removes one his bracelets with trembling hands and fumbles to swap it with one of the ones on his own wrist.
“Good,” Katsuki nods, taking a deep breath, “Now dance with me.”
Deku jerks from where he’s looking at his wrist like he’s never seen a human limb before and stares at him in shock.
“What?!” He squeals.
“Let’s fucking dance.” Katsuki repeats firmly.
“But- but we-!”
“-We’re still at fucking con,” Katsuki cuts him off, “We’re never gonna talk about this again, remember? We might as well.” He crosses his arms defensively and shrugs, “You should’ve just told me you were coming to the stupid fucking rave…You coulda waited with me. We coulda come. Together.”
Deku’s already huge eyes get so round Katsuki’s worried they’re going to fall out and splatter into goo all over the floor.
“I normally wait in the lobby.” He says faintly. “It’s right by the lockers for when I have to change wait! no- that doesn’t matter- are you serious Kacchan? Do you…want to dance?”
He looks like he took one of Katsuki’s fists to the fucking head.
Just totally out of it.
Katsuki shrugs again.
“I’m here ain’t I?” He says, because answering that question suddenly seems kind of really dangerous.
“Well, yeah,” Deku shakes his head. “But you mean it? You want to dance?”
“…I guess.”
“Dance with me??”
“Who else m’I gonna dance with, dumbass? Fucking Ass Might over there?” Katsuki gestures into the raunchy looking crowd (the guy dressed as the Symbol of Peace really is just letting it all hang out there, damn). “You wanna fucking dance or not-?”
“I-.”
It occurs to Katsuki at that sudden terrible moment that Deku might not actually WANT to dance with him.
He’s got no real reason to- it’s not like they’re friends or anything and he’s only been the guy’s personal nightmare for half a decade now.
He’s so fucking STUPID.
“You!- We-” He starts to backtrack. “Just fucking go then! If you don’t want- I won’t make you- I ain’t holding you up!”
Deku’s face changes then. He suddenly looks…soft.
He’s staring at him. Looking over his face, into his eyes.
He gets really pink and ducks his head.
“I’d love to dance with you, Kacchan.” He mumbles.
Katsuki can feel his own cheeks getting warm and he nods.
“Good.” He coughs and clears his throat. He’s parched again for some reason. “Fine. Let’s go.”
He takes Deku by the wrist and drags him back into the center of the crowd.
This isn’t really dancing music, and the nerd is definitely not much of a dancer (he mostly jumps up and down or flops all over the place like a landed fish) but it’s fun to be near him and to be able to pull him close when he gets too far away.
He leans against his chest sometimes when he gets tired and puts his head against his shoulder to stare up into his face.
If he wasn’t in those goddamn boots he could tuck him under his chin, but this is nice too.
It’s nice.
In the press of the crowd with the music thumping so loud they can feel it when they breathe, they switch to sign because it’s easier than trying to scream in each other’s ears.
Kacchan! [I] love this song!
Kacchan! Look! They[’re] dressed as P-R-E-S-E-N-T M-I-C!
[We] should trade bracelets with that juggler Kacchan!
Deku signs almost faster than he can. He’s not even the slightest bit out of practice even though they haven’t talked like this in years.
He must’ve kept it up, kept studying, kept learning even when Katsuki stopped talking back.
He kept at it, kept coming to con, kept trying to talk to him earlier when all he wanted to do was leave.
Katsuki looks at him, sweaty and smiling in the random madhouse of the rave and thinks suddenly that he’s kind of fucking amazing.
He’s such a stubborn, reckless, weird little shit, but he’s sort of his little shit.
Always has been.
He just keeps trying, keeps reaching out to him.
The thought makes something grow in his chest, warm and twisting and suddenly alive, like it’s been waiting years to hatch and has suddenly cracked open.
He wants to-
Deku is laughing at something and trying to point to get his attention.
He catches his hand and just…holds it.
Deku turns towards him in surprise.
He looks bemused and then suddenly it’s like he knows.
He understands him.
He always has.
He smiles so wide it scrunches up his freckles and ducks his head shyly like he’s trying to get away from his own excitement.
Katsuki hauls him in by his arm, presses their foreheads together where they’re suddenly at a head height.
He can feel the heat coming off Deku’s skin, feel the rumble of his chest as he tries to babble something at him he can’t hear over the music.
He brings his hand up to his cheek and tilts his head a little.
Deku stares at him with this soft, sweet expression like Katsuki’s hung the goddamn moon.
This okay? Katsuki brushes the question against his lips.
Deku nods, brings his own hands up to clutch at Katsuki’s face like he’s trying to hold on to something.
Yeah. He breathes, Yes, of course, always Kacchan-
They’re never going to talk about this again. Never going to bring it up.
It’s going to be a secret between them, another shared moment amidst a lifetime of others, so many they have started to blur at the edges.
It’ll be different though, because Katsuki will remember what his lips feel like forever.
The kiss is soft, sweet, a little clumsy, because it’s not like either of them have ever done this before, but it’s perfect.
Deku kisses him like it’s the most natural thing in the world and Katsuki kisses him back because it is, and he can and he wants to and it’s nice.
It’s nice.
They pull away at the same time and smile at one another.
Deku’s eyes shine and he bumps their foreheads together, then he turns and goes back to dancing.
Katsuki keeps him close with a hand at his hip and lets himself sing along with him as the music plays on.
He’s glad he came.
It was definitely fucking worth it.
—-
By 2 o’clock they’re both so sweaty and tired they can hardly stand.
Deku has to steer Katsuki towards the doors with his arm over his shoulder.
People around them are talking about clubs and after parties and Katsuki has no idea how the fuck they can even think.
He feels like he’s astral projecting right now. He’s like two minutes out from cussing out a fucking force ghost.
He’s about to ascend to a higher plane of existence.
Deku is giggling and keeps pressing little kisses to his overheated forehead.
The late hour has made him kind of silly.
“We’re almost out of here,” he teases, “I’m shocked you made it this late, grandpa.”
One advantage to his stupid shoes is that Katsuki’s able to lay his head on his shoulder and cuddle into his neck and he does that as they shuffle out with the rest of the crowd.
“Shut up.” He slurs. “Jus’ fucking- take me t’my room, jackass.”
Deku laughs and chafes his shoulder like he’s trying to keep him awake.
“We’re almost there, don’t pass out.”
Katsuki bites him, but softly, because he’s still needs his fucking help.
He’s so tired. How do people fucking…who stays up like this?
“You want me to carry you,” Deku offers. “It might be faster at this rate.
Katsuki rolls his head on his shoulder and glares at him through one sleepy red eye.
“I’ll kill you.” He mumbles softly. “Don’cha dare…pick m’up.”
“I’m sorry Kacchan I didn’t catch that?” He hears Deku giggle. “Did you say ‘pick me up’?”
He’s too tired to put up much of a fight as the nerd scoops him up, but being snatched up like a swooning princess wakes him RIGHT THE FUCK BACK UP.
“Put me down!” He howls and thrashes around while Deku laughs and spins them both in dizzy circles.
“Kacchan I’m gonna drop you! You’re really heavy you know-”
“-You better not fucking drop me! Put me down nerd!”
“You just said not to drop you~”
“I swear to God Deku!-”
“-Aw, you guys are so cute!” Someone’s voice breaks through the nerd’s breathless giggles.
Some chick is cooing at them from the line of extras trying to head out the door.
She motions them over and Deku sets him down so they can walk over.
“Here!” She says, brightly dropping something into Deku’s hand. “I made these for all the couples- this is my last pair!”
Katsuki leans in to inspect a matching set of pink and red sparkly bracelets.
They have little stars and shit on them and they’re not half bad.
The nerd’s whole head gets red as he starts to stammer.
“Oh! We’re not! I-it’s- Kacchan and I-”
“-Sweet.” Katsuki cuts him off, reaching for a bracelet and nodding to the chick. “Thanks. You can keep the red one, nerd.”
Cons are still the shit. Where else can you unlock souvenirs for your first kiss?
He slips the pink one onto his wrist and looks at Deku’s stunned face.
“What?” He asks.
Deku wordlessly shakes his head.
“Nothing.” He mumbles.
“Cool.” he yawns, “C’mon let’s go. I wanna fucking get out of here so I can sleep.”
He takes Deku’s hand.
They shuffle out with the rest of the nerds and head to his room.
Deku waits with him while his mom comes to pick him up.
Katsuki is surprised she doesn’t pitch a fit but apparently, it’s once a year so she doesn’t mind much according to Deku.
He hums in sleepy surprise at that.
A lot has changed since they were brats.
Katsuki wants to stay up with him to wait; he tries to, but this is the longest he’s ever stayed up in his life.
“Goodnight, Kacchan.”
He wakes to an empty room at ten and tries not to feel disappointed.
It’s what they fucking agreed to after all.
Just like that, unceremoniously it’s over.
Katsuki packs up his shit, showers and heads home.
——-
The next day at school the extras are full of fucking questions about why he and Deku were both out.
“Did you guys get in trouble bro?” Kirishima asks all concerned.
Katsuki rolls his eyes.
“Don’t ask me fucking stupid questions.” He reaches into his backpack and shoves a bag at his chest. “Here. For you and those other maniacs.”
He stomps off to his desk and watches the shitty-haired loser gasp at the snacks and merch from the con.
He looks like he wants to cry; he’s such a goddamn weirdo.
Deku comes in with a box of swag for his loser friends too.
Katsuki can feel their classmate’s powerful curiosity like a physical touch.
Luckily their bum-ass homeroom teacher never has time for bullshit (it’s why he kind of respects him) and makes them all shut the fuck up and pay attention.
It’s not until later, days later actually when they’re changing for a training on some sunny afternoon that he has to think about it again and he realizes he may have made a critical mistake.
“Aw Deku! What a cute bracelet!” The invisible chick in their class coos as Deku peels off his jacket heading into the locker room.
Katsuki’s head whips around to see the nerd blushing and clutching his wrist where he’s still wearing the red glitter bracelet with its little stars.
His other little nerd friends are starting to look too because he gets loud when he’s embarrassed.
Fucking dork.
“Did you make this?” The extra girl (Uraraka) he’s always with asks.
“N-no.” He blabs, “I met up with an old friend. At the…e-event I was at. Someone gave these to us.”
“Event”.
Sure. That’s what it was.
He really hopes that someday he figures out lying.
He needs to at least do a little better than he does now or his future press are gonna eat him alive.
…not that he cares or anything.
“Aww, they’re friendship bracelets!” The girls all start to coo and fawn, and Deku looks like he’s going to pass out from all the sudden female attention.
He’s such a hopeless disaster, damn.
“Is it a friend from your old school?” Deku’s extra girl asks.
The nerd shrugs and turns the bracelet on his wrist.
“Yeah, something like that,” he mumbles. “We’ve been friends our whole lives, but we don’t really see much of each other anymore. I hope…we’re going to try a bit harder to though.”
Katsuki raises his eyebrows.
He tries to catch the nerd’s eye and tell him to quit whatever weird bullshit he thinks he’s playing at, but he seems to be purposely avoiding him in favor of smiling at all the side characters.
“I bet it was nice!” The frog girl croaks, “To see your old friend.”
“Yeah, it was really nice to catch up.” He blushes and the girls all home in like a pack of jackals sensing easy prey. “I was really happy to be there.”
“Look at your face!” Mina grins and waggles her eyebrows. “Someone’s got a crush!”
Deku’s whole face is red, but he looks up at them for a second and shakes his head.
“It’s not a crush. I-I wouldn’t call it that, but it’s…special.” The girls shriek in ecstasy at the little smile on his face and the little shit walks into the locker room like it’s nothing.
Katsuki trails in after him, scowling. He glowers as they change into their gym uniforms and waits until the others clear the room before turning to frown at him. (He doesn’t stare at his chest all. Doesn’t think about his legs, he doesn’t.)
“What was all that bullshit out there?” he asks roughly.
The little nerd plays dumb. He tilts his head and looks at him with his big, dumb cow eyes.
“What are you talking about, Kacchan?” He asks.
Katsuki glares at him.
“Talking to the extras about- you know what you fucking did you little shit!”
Deku continues to feign confusion.
“I don’t know what you mean? Hagakure-san was just asking about where I got my bracelet.” He says. “All I did was answer her questions.”
Katsuki narrows his eyes at him. Deku just blinks stolidly back him.
Fine.
He’ll fucking break first.
“What was all that sappy shit with the crush?” He barks, “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
Deku shrugs.
They are no longer at head height, so he has to look up at him through his long, pretty lashes.
Katsuki feels his face heat up.
“It’s not a crush.” He says simply. “I think it’s a little more than that don’t you?”
Holy shit.
Holy SHIT.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” he croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “You swore you’d never bring this shit up again!”
Like he hasn’t dropped a nuclear payload right into the situation, Deku just smiles and slips on his shirt
“Talk about what, Kacchan?” He asks quietly, biting his lips. Katsuki’s eyes snap to stare like they’re hooked to damn magnet.
“I’m not talking about anything,” he says softly, walking up so that they’re only inches apart.
He stands on his tiptoes and Katsuki tilts his head without thinking, without even meaning to, letting their lips brush again.
“It’s not my fault you’re still thinking about it.” Deku whispers against his mouth.
Katsuki feels like the little monster’s just punched him in the throat.
He keeps forgetting he has a backbone now. He might not have thought the whole con thing through.
“This isn’t what we agreed on nerd,” he warns him, cupping the back of his head.
His curls are soft. Softer than they look, fuck.
Deku’s hand pets at his arm and he breaks out in goosebumps at the touch.
“What do you mean?” He grins, all sudden edges again. Sharp. Taunting. Hot.
“I promised I wouldn’t talk about it.” He says slyly. “Not that I wouldn’t do anything about what happened.”
He pulls away suddenly and turns to go.
Katsuki stares at his retreating back, still feeling sucker punched.
“See you on the field Kacchan! I know you’re going to do amazing!”
He leaves him like that gaping after him like a goddamn basement dweller.
So the nerd’s going to play dirty is he?
He’s not going to actually let the con thing go?
Katsuki grins to himself surprised at how much he likes this new Deku who’s not afraid to fight for a thing that he wants.
He still wants Katsuki, always has, still wants to keep reaching for him.
Maybe even reach past him.
A lot of things have changed since they were kids.
But some things haven’t.
It’ll be interesting to see where they’ll go from there.
He can’t fucking wait.
He’s excited.