Work Text:
“Okay…just gonna add a little more glitter here…”
The class 3A dorms are relatively quiet for a Friday night. Midterms before summer break have just wrapped up, and despite everyone being excited, the work load has left the young heroes much too tired to party.
Which is how Izuku Midoriya finds himself here. Across from his girlfriend, craft supplies scattered all over his bed. It was Ochaco’s idea to create a scrapbook, piecing together their moments from their senior year. To have a special piece of history that they can look back on when they’re old.
All in all, it was a great idea on her part. Albeit a bit messy.
Izuku is working on an All Might themed page, adding a red, white and blue border around a photo of the pair at the Ueno Zoo, posing in front of the elephants. Ochaco is decorating a page in different shades of pink, using pictures from their date to a cat cafe. Izuku’s heart squeezes at the memory. Ochaco looked so cute that day.
“I was thinking, we could use the pictures I took at our class sleepover last week and make a movie theatre themed page. Would that be cool?” Izuku asked in earnest.
Ochaco smiles, gluing a heart shaped sticker onto her page. “We’ll need more black and red construction paper. I can get some from the art room tomorrow.”
Izuku smiles back at her, letting his hand fall into hers. With a blush, he leans over the mess in between them, closing his eyes for a kiss.
His impending bliss is immediately ruined by the loudest banging he’s heard in ages.
“Izuku! Open this fucking door!”
Izuku sighs in defeat, placing a tiny peck on Ochaco’s lips. “It’s unlocked, Kacchan,” he groans.
Katsuki slams the door open, panting. Izuku notices a few things. One, he’s in his exercise clothes. Two, his eyes are frantic with anxiety. And three, his face is really, really red.
“Oh good, you’re here too, Cheeks. I need a witness–are you scrapbooking?” He asks, eyebrow raised.
“Kacchan, you’ve already interrupted my date. Do you have to be all judgy too? It’s arts and crafts. It’s cute.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. He doesn’t care if he’s..cockblocking, or whatever. He’s in a crisis here. He pulls Izuku’s desk chair out, turning it and sitting so his chest is against the chair’s back.
“We don’t have time for this. Izuku, I need you to punch me in the head. As hard as you can.”
Ochaco sighs, standing up and leaning over to her boyfriend’s bedside table. She digs around in the drawer for a little while, until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out a pair of headphones, and plugs them into the jack in her phone.
“No offense, Bakugou, but I don’t want to hear whatever weird, macho ritual this is. Tap me when you’re done punching each other.” With that, Ochaco has left the conversation, back to squeezing out magenta glitter glue onto a picture of Izuku holding up a piece of cake.
“Why…why do you want me to punch you?”
Katsuki groans, head buried in his hands. “Because, I think my brain got fucked up. I need you to punch it back into place so I can go back to normal.”
Okay. That makes no sense, but what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t hear him out? Izuku nods, urging Katsuki to continue.
“My brain, for some reason, thinks I’m allergic to Kirishima.”
Izuku blinks once. Twice. Three times. “This is where you lose me, Kacchan. Why would your brain signal to your body that you're allergic to our friend?”
This just isn’t making sense. The logic is so backwards, and Kirishima’s role in the story is still unknown. Maybe Katsuki touched Kirishima’s shirt, and he’s using a different fabric softener?
“Listen up, nerd. There we were, at the vending machine after training. Shitty hair wanted his stupid Pocari drink, so I waited for him, like the fucking saint I am.”
“Right,” Izuku nods, finding the thread. His hand is absentmindedly stroking Ochaco’s as he listens to the story. “Kirishima does love his electrolytes. Especially after a workout.” He thinks for a moment. Did Kacchan drink from his bottle? Is he allergic to an ingredient?
“Ugh, you’re missing the point. We were walking back from Ground Beta, and his hair fell out of place because of how gross and sweaty he got. And obviously, I was looking at him. In case he started talking or something. But then he just…”
Katsuki frowns, clutching his stomach. He looks around the room a few times, as if some third party is secretly listening. He’s embarrassed, although he’s not sure what’s making him squirm.
“He fuckin’ smiled at me. And my stomach started to hurt, and my heart was pounding, and my face got all warm like it does when I have a fever.” He sighs, getting up from the chair and looking Izuku dead in the eyes.
“So, you need to punch me, Deku. I’ll do you a favor soon so I don’t owe you. Just punch me.”
Izuku puts his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, looking back into his panicked eyes. He also nudges his girlfriend with his knee, knowing she’ll want to hear this. She takes the headphones off and leans in to listen.
“Let’s look into this a little more. Have you ever had…one of these reactions with Kirishima before?”
Katsuki blushes at the memory. “Once last month. In the bath.” Ochaco looks at him, and has to hold her own mouth shut to stop the squeal from escaping.
Izuku has a choice to make here. Keep Katsuki in ignorant bliss about his feelings, or help guide him into understanding. After a few seconds of pondering, he chooses the latter.
“Kacchan…do you think Kirishima is handsome?”
Katsuki looks up in thought. He thinks about Eijirou’s eyes, and how they turn into little crescent moons when he smiles. He thinks about his eyelashes, so long and thick that the girls in class get jealous. He thinks about his body, the tan skin and bulky muscles that strain against his uniform. He thinks about what he saw a month ago in the bath when he accidentally peaked.
“Fuckin’, yeah. He’s handsome. What does his face have to do with any of this?”
Ochaco stands up too, ready to add her two cents into the situation. “And you really like being around him, right? You’d like to always have him in your life?”
Katsuki scoffs at her seemingly stupid question. “Of course I do, Kirby. He’s my unbreakable horse, after all. I need him.”
“Okay,” Izuku clears his throat, trying to break through the ambivalence inside his friend’s brain. “Let’s do a little compare and contrast here. How did you feel when I started going out with Ochaco? Answer honestly, Kacchan.”
He groans in annoyance. What’s with the interrogations? “I was…glad. You losers work well together, and I’m happy that there’s at least someone who appreciates your ugly ass mug.” Insult aside, Izuku knows he meant all that out of affection. He just has a funny way of showing it.
“Great, now how would you feel if Kirishima started dating a girl?”
Katsuki tenses. “What girl?” he snarls.
“It's a hypothetical, Kacchan. There’s no girl. Calm down and tell us how it’d make you feel.”
He pauses. Eijirou with…a girlfriend? That wouldn’t make any sense. He’s like Katsuki, uninterested in dating. Hanta and Denki are always going on about girls they found cute, or sexy, or things they wanted to do with them. Eijirou never participated. But what if he did? What if he met a woman and started seeing her? What if Eijirou started hanging out with her instead of him? What if they kissed, or held hands, or went further in his dorm room where Katsuki could hear through the wall? His stomach tightens, but not like when Eijirou smiled. This feeling is rotten, maggot filled and spreading into his chest.
“...I wouldn’t like it.”
“And why wouldn’t you like it, Bakugou?”
Katsuki feels like he’s going to cry. This was a horrible idea. He should’ve just ignored his sickness, instead he’s being spanked raw with a tidal wave of emotions that he can’t even name.
“Cause…he wouldn’t hang out with me as much. And I don’t wanna watch him suck face with some chick! And…and…”
He stops before he says something embarrassing. Frankly, he still doesn’t know what they’re getting at. The two bug eyed morons are just…staring at him. Like he’s in kindergarten and they’re urging him to figure out the next letter he needs to spell his name.
“Are you gonna make us say it? Or are you gonna figure it out by yourself, Kacchan?”
“Figure out what? Stop being so fucking cryptic!” He bites back. He feels stupid and confused and, in all actuality, he really wants Eijirou right now. He’d make it better. He always does.
“Look at me. When Kirishima smiles, you get butterflies in your stomach and you blush. You want him to be around you all the time. You think he’s handsome, and you nearly puked all over my freshly vacuumed floor at the mere notion of him having a girlfriend. What does that sound like to you?”
The wheels start turning. Katsuki remembers watching his mom’s garbage romance dramas passively when he played in the living room as a kid. He remembers the songs about matters of the heart he’s heard on the radio. He remembers how Izuku acted when he started planning on asking Ochaco out. His jaw drops.
“Holy shit.”
The couple sigh in relief, giving Katsuki empathetic smiles. “Holy shit,” they both repeat in unison. In hindsight, they both knew this was coming eventually. It’s always been Kirishima.
“So what the fuck do I do now? Fuckin’ seduce him?”
“Ew, Kacchan.”
“Bakugou, I think a…seduction plan can come later,” Ochaco giggles. “The best course of action is to tell him how you feel! I know it’s nerve wracking, but you are the best at everything, aren’t you? Including love confessions, I bet! And you gotta do it before some girl snatches him up first,” she says, feeding into that well-known ego and competitive nature that Katsuki is known for.
“She’s right, you know. For all we know, Kirishima could be in his room right now with a hundred girls asking him out in his inbox.”
Without so much as a breath, Katsuki shoots up and bolts out the door. He sprints up to his floor, reaching Eijirou’s door in a matter of seconds. He takes a deep breath and slams the door open. He finds Eijirou on his bed, sitting upright while watching something on his phone and sipping from his water bottle.
“Kirishima.”
“Oh, hey man!” Eijirou beams, “is everything okay? You kinda ran off earlier…I was a bit worried.” Oh, that big smile. Those caring words. Jesus Christ, Katsuki is down bad.
“Kirishima. I want you.”
Eijirou drops his water bottle with a loud clank against the floor. His cheeks go red. “What?”
Katsuki blinks, suddenly not so sure of himself. He should’ve written a script or something, or maybe just copied how Izuku asked Ochaco out. No, that was much too nerdy for his taste.
“Shit, I mean…uhh…don’t date any girls instead of me!”
“Bakugou, are you having a stroke? Should I take you to Recovery Girl?”
This is bad. Katsuki stormed in here, and now he’s spewing out word vomit like an idiot. How did the nerd do this without puking? But God damn it, he’s Katsuki Bakugou. Who would he be if he was afraid of something like this? He’s faced villains tougher than any pros have encountered, he can handle Eijirou.
“Fuck. Kirishima, I’m into you. So go on a date with me. T-to the arcade. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Perfect, he thinks. He got his point across, added details, and even accounted for a rejection. Flawless work.
“C’mere, Bakugou,” Eijirou replies, gesturing across from him on the bed. Katsuki follows his eyes, sitting down cross legged.
“I–oh wow. I really wasn’t expecting this. I like you too. So much, you have no idea. If you’re being serious, I’d really like to go to the arcade with you. Like, romantically.”
Eijirou takes his hand in his. It still feels like the first time, when Katsuki felt those same hands save his life at Kamino. When their hands never left each other all the way back into the city. They feel just as safe now as they did back then. Was this always there?
“I think…I may have liked you for a while, Kirishima. But I just realized today. Sorry it took so long.”
“That’s okay, man,” Eijirou responded, a blush still present on his face. “You kind of have a blind spot when it comes to feelings, huh?”
“Tch, I guess. You could’ve said something too, fucker.”
“Are you kidding? I’m way too much of a coward to confess. You just figured out you liked me today and you already told me. I’ve known for like, two years, and I never had the guts to say anything.”
Katsuki frowns. Over the years, the most important thing he’s learned about Eijirou is that while his outside is completely unbreakable, he’s fragile on the inside. He needs to be handled with care, like fine china.
“Hey, you may be a dumbass, but you’re not a coward. I wouldn’t wanna talk about mushy shit with me, either,” he smirks.
“Hey Bakugou, can I kiss you?”
Katsuki’s cheeks go up in flames. He wasn’t expecting that. He figured they’d go on a date, then hold hands, and then kiss in front of a cherry blossom tree or something stupid like that.
But with Eijirou, after finally figuring it out, every moment feels like something out of a romance novel. Even if his first kiss is spontaneous and casual. Katsuki nods, pursuing his lips together and closing his eyes.
Eijirou chuckles at him, leaning forward and kissing the tenseness off of his lips. It feels like the last piece of a puzzle slotting into place. Like his lips are finally doing something worthwhile. Eijirou tastes like the steak he had for dinner, and both of their lips are kind of chapped, but they don’t care.
After a few moments, Eijirou pulls away, nosing at Katsuki’s blushing cheek.
“So…the arcade tomorrow?”