AN: I didn't intend for the the delay to be this long, goddamnit. There is the main plot, which is the real-gang-within-the-fake-gang thing. Then there are the fillers that focus on KatsuDeku (or the other way around, y'know). And this is one of those "fillers." But I don't wanna reduce it to fillers. I WORKED ON THIS GODDAMNIT. Okay, I'll stop ranting.
And you know, reviews and criticisms give me a boost man! Especially positive ones (also negative ones. But more like a boost to write better than boost to write faster). So yeah, leave some reviews guys!
Ah, Iida, always abiding by the rules unless completely necessary to break them. Kirishima and Uraraka were still abstaining by the looks of it. Midoriya sighed. "I guess . . . we can make a bluff?"
There was a tiny curl in Bakugou's lips. It was almost invisible, but Midoriya could see it, and sense it. It was for him. He shook his head to get their attention away from his growing blush. "I'll give you guys some time to decide over lunch. But you guys know where we're siding in this one."
The rest nodded, with Iida sighing helplessly. There was such conviction when Midoriya spoke. Midoriya and Kirishima explained what they had learned from the interrogation. At some point, Bakugou whipped his phone out. He looked uninterested, but really, he was listening closely.
Apparently, Bakugou had a different plan for lunch. Midoriya was forced outside by a) Bakugou's dominance in his commands and b) Bakugou's strong grip on his wrist. Bakugou had his left arm wrapped over Midoriya's semi-thin shoulders. Across the street, the sun was playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, but it wasn't feeling depressed at least. There was a slight zephyr that was strong enough to let a few hair strands fly. The smell of bread from the boulangerie and the disgusting remains of cigar mixed. It was not too much for them to complain about. Tourists and locals were scattered all over the place. A few minutes and the hand on Midoriya's shoulder was slapping Midoriya's face.
"Ow—what is it, Kacchan?"
Without looking at Katsuki's side, he replied, "Hold my hand like a scarf."
"Uhm." Izuku shook his head. He was just not into that idea. Katsuki understood what he wanted and dropped it. Instead, he reached for Midoriya's right hand. Midoriya thought there was steam coming out from his ears. It was fortunate that they didn't know anybody in the city, lest they'd be questioned. Just exactly at that moment, Midoriya's stomach rumbled and before he could have expressed his immediate needs, Bakugou handed him an energy bar. "This isn't really enough to satiate someone's hunger, Kacchan."
"I know you more than anyone, Deku. And I know you can stand an extra forty-five minutes of hunger, after eating that energy bar."
"How'd you know that?"
"When you were working out in middle school, you'd miss lunch to exercise on the roof. You'd pass out by the last subject due to fatigue, but you got a better hang of it."
"You were watching me?"
Needles shot up in Bakugou's spine. How was he supposed to answer that? Of course, he had accidentally watched at one time . . . and then maybe another time . . . and maybe he allotted enough time to watch him for ten minutes, three times a week, without anyone accompanying him. He was—as most people would say it—curious.
"Never mind that, nerd."
In front of them was a decent-sized library. There weren't many people inside.
"I thought this through before lunch, but whatever. I thought we'd have a stakeout."
"A stakeout?"
"Yeah. You said a while ago that this gang blends in the crowd to be less suspicious in informing its thugs. I searched this library on my phone a while ago." He pointed across the street. There was a half-full coffee shop. It had enough people to blend in and still prevent anyone from knowing. Midoriya scarfed down the energy bar.
"Huh. Lucky guess?" Midoriya questioned.
"We'll see about that."
They entered the library. The homey smell of the books, old and new, lingered through the air. Tiles expanded to a wide range. Along with that were the towering bookcases, some with books on top of each other. Round tables were scattered in a uniform pattern. Bean bags and normal four-legged chairs were scattered. There was still a glass door that led to another room. The librarian at the left paid them no mind. Bakugou closed the glass door behind them.
"It's been a while since I've been in a library," Bakugou commented.
"Yeah? I usually visit the libraries back at home."
"When I catch a book in my sights, I'd usually buy it."
"Uh . . . y-yeah. What books do you have?"
It took a moment for Bakugou to respond. It wasn't that he was ashamed . . .
Fuck that—he was ashamed.
He gritted his teeth. Light smoke was rising up to the air as he fought back his damaged pride. Some people were starting to notice. Midoriya had two choices: calm Bakugou down or damage Bakugou's pride.
Midoriya didn't want to set the fire alarm off anyway.
"Hey." Midoriya planted a quick kiss on Bakugou's neck. In an instant, Bakugou seemed to forget everything but the kiss. That plain neutral face returned to him. He scratched his head. "I don't think we'd appreciate it if you accidentally blew the whole building to dust and debris. Don't be ashamed of your books."
The vanilla face had a sudden drop of strawberry in it. Bakugou folded his arms and had a twitching smile.
"Y-You've been in my house many times . . . remember?"
"We were twelve the last time I was in your house." Midoriya could remember that day like it was yesterday.
Mitsuki Bakugou was cleaning the dishes.
"Good evening, Aunt Bakugou!" Midoriya scanned the house. The lady looked at him with that smile that Bakugou inherited from her. At least it didn't mean any ill intent. "Is K-Kacchan here?"
She stopped cleaning the plates and headed over Midoriya. She patted his soft curly green hair. "He's in his room, Izuku. I'll call him for you if you want."
"A-ah, there's no need for that!" Midoriya pulled out a pair of orange mittens from his pockets. He looked at them for a while. They were warm to the touch. The scent of nitroglycerin was still prominent, even if it was coated with the smell of mushy snow. Before he could even hand them to her, he heard a burst of the door from the second floor.
"YOU OLD HAG! I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET ANYONE IN WHEN I'M STUDYING!"
Mitsuki had to do her job as a mother and as an "aunt." She snapped, "IT'S NOT LIKE IZUKU IS DISTURBING YOU FROM WAY OVER HERE!"
"THAT'S EVEN FUCKING WORSE! DON'T LET HIM IN!"
"You can come in, Izuku."
"B-but—"
"I insist."
"WHAT THE—"
"DON'T SWEAR WHEN YOUR FRIEND IS HERE! COME DOWN ALREADY AND GREET HIM!"
"I'M NOT COMING DOWN—MUCH LESS CONSIDER HIM AS A FRIEND!"
Mitsuki was already leading Midoriya to Katsuki's room. There was that blond boy at the doorway with a glare that can freeze the Sahara desert. It made Izuku shiver underneath his winter coat. Katsuki trudged over to Izuku. It seemed like he was towering the other.
"What's your purpose here, Deku?"
"Manners, Katsuki." The strict wave was enough to throw Katsuki off. However, the boy still kept his cruel façade. Izuku, facing the floor, handed the gloves over to Katsuki.
"O-on the way here, when we . . . uh . . . we saw each other in an intersection e-even when we took d-different r-routes, right? I noticed that y-you weren't wearing y-your g-gloves. I thought that you c-can't possibly have a r-reason to not wear your gloves, considering that y-your Quirk is heavily r-reliant on the nitroglycerin s-sweat on your palms. And now that it's c-cold . . . So I r-ran all the way back to school to get these for y-you. And—"
"I don't need to hear the rest of your story. Hand them over." Mitsuki shot him a disapproving look. Katsuki replied with a try-me-bitch look.
"O-oh, y-yeah sure, Kacchan."
In the end, there were two pairs of hands on the gloves. One cannot let go of the orange mittens and the other was wrapped around the other pair of trembling hands. And yet, despite the cold environment, a small flicker of warmth was shared between the two boys. Perhaps it was ten seconds, but damn, those ten seconds felt nice. That is, until Katsuki had to cut that moment off.
"Let go of them, Deku."
"O-oh, right!" And there, as the mittens were given to their rightful owner, the frigidness returned. "I'm sorry."
"There is no—whatever."
Katsuki needed that warmth again. He had no idea how that came to life. But there was that moment that made him possess a kind passion again. No, not an explosive passion—just a kind passion. And he had no idea how to get that again. But never mind, it was but a fleeting moment.
"I-I'll see myself out, Kacchan. Again, good evening." Izuku bowed and was escorted out by Mitsuki. After all was said and done, Mitsuki walked up to her son, who had a frozen and weak demeanor. Normally, she would've apprehended him. But she simply sighed.
"You know, someone who would go the distance just to return a stupid pair of gloves to me is also someone who would break every bone and damage every muscle if it meant protecting me. Katsuki, people like Izuku—they're keepers. I'd date him if only I were younger and/or hate your father. But I don't pass even one of those."
The sparkle in Katsuki's eyes . . . Mitsuki had a sly smile.
"Hmm . . . some people tend to act tough and mean when they're around the one they like a lot." Katsuki looked at her with disbelief present in his blushing face. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're being cruel to Izuku so you can hide your affections."
"DON'T EVEN SAY IT, HAG!"
"I just did."
Katsuki stormed off to his room with a bang on the door. Mitsuki expected him to stay there for an entirety of the night, but he immediately got out with a comic that basically had All Might fighting fictional villains. They had a feel of real-life fan fiction. He clipped it between his lips and blasted to the door.
"NO USING OF EXPLOSIONS IN MY HOUSE!"
Mitsuki knew it was no use. Katsuki always used his explosions in random moments in the household. He always explained that it was for some experimentation on his Quirk. Other than that, her son was already outside the house.
It was fortunate that Izuku was walking slowly. Katsuki quickly caught up to him. "Hey, Deku!" Izuku quickly turned to Katsuki with enthusiasm.
"O-oh, Kacchan! What is it?"
It took a quick effortless moment for Katsuki to hand the comic to Izuku. The touch of paper on Izuku's skin made his brain go "Warm up, body! Warm up!" And so he did. Seeing the dark flush of red and the ecstasy had Kacchan forcing back his smile. And he had to force it more when Izuku's face brightened up having seen the cover.
"Whoa . . . This looks like it's in mint condition." Izuku looked at Katsuki then back at the comic then back at Katsuki then back at the comic. He thought, Should I hug Kacchan or not? Doesn't he hate me? What am I talking about? It's not like it matters, right?
"U-uh—thanks . . . This means a lot to me Kacchan. Th-thanks."
The statement "Have him in your house this Saturday! What are you waiting for?" was at the back of Katsuki's mind. He scratched the back of his red ear and looked away as the awkward atmosphere overwhelmed them. Seconds passed and Katsuki gulped down his nervousness.
"I'll show you more comics this Saturday." Izuku beamed at him. "If you don't come, I'll hunt you down and I'll . . . bully you more on school. Do we have a deal, Deku?"
"D-deal!"
"You're right," said Katsuki. "Nothing to be ashamed of. They're just comics." The matter of the type of books Katsuki read disappeared like a thin bubble in the air.
They looked around for where they want to sit. They ended up sharing a beanbag, with a phone on Izuku's face and a book on Katsuki's. It went on like that as time crawled forward. Every so often, Katsuki caught Izuku with a small blush, a twitching lip, or a confused face. Whenever Katsuki looked over what Izuku was reading, the smaller boy would cover the screen with his hand. The other didn't mind. Still, seeing that Izuku was getting absorbed by the content, Katsuki reminded Izuku why they were there.
"R-right! Sorry. I was . . . caught up in my phone. I'll go watch for them."
Time seemed to gain weight. What felt like an hour felt like six for the both of them. No matter how much Katsuki fought it, the temptations of sleep took grasp of his built body after thirty minutes had passed. Izuku jumped a little as he felt Katsuki's head on his lap. Izuku smirked crookedly. Katsuki was cute in his sleep. He slid down the beanbag to make it easier for Katsuki to sleep. The sleeping beauty turned and faced Izuku's abdomen.
"Hmph."
Hesitating at first, he took the chance to run his hand over Katsuki's ash blond hair. Smooth surfaces collided. He already assumed that there would be no person of suspicion, considering that the coffee shop they were watching was brimming with customers already.
"We'll try again tomorrow."
Izuku contemplated over the past few days as more time passed. He wondered why Katsuki liked him, out of all people. Over a decade of bullying and discrimination, and there he was: head-over-heels in love for the person who Katsuki had hurt indefinitely. Which made him question:
Do I really love Kacchan? Everything is going so fast and perhaps my hormones were just spiking to match the intensity of the situation. Izuku clutched his chest. There was warmth, all right. But he needed to figure things out.
Out of nowhere, Katsuki grumbled awake. He didn't wake up slowly like most people did. He just opened his eyes and . . . well—he was ready for action. He pushed Izuku's face away and stood up. Izuku rubbed his nose.
"What was that for?"
"For letting me sleep, dumbass. Did you see anyone suspicious?"
Izuku said, "N-no . . . not at all, Kacchan."
Katsuki scratched his head. "Aah—pointless-ass stakeout." He took notice of a dark surface under Izuku's chin and he pressed his pointer—his left—on said mark. Izuku flinched. "I made that hickey, huh?"
"H-hickey?"
"Shut up." He looked back and forth between his Deku and the bruise. He sneered at it. He twisted the hem of Izuku's shirt and locked eyes. "Don't fucking dare hide that hickey. It's a mark of ownership. You're my property and my property alone. Got that, Deku?"
Blossoms bloomed on Izuku's cheeks. Since when was assertiveness a turn-on for people? He'd seen in the movies and telenovelas his mother watched that possessiveness damaged the bond between two. But somehow . . . he liked it. He was pulled up by Katsuki. It didn't take much effort to gather his reflexes and stand. Katsuki told him that they should go back to the hotel.
"And do me a favor and don't allow that round-head girl call you Deku. Or you know what? Since you're a useless Deku, I'll do it myself. I don't see her respecting your word anyway. And don't think you have a say in this."
Izuku rolled his eyes as they retreated from the cool environment of the library. "Fine, Kacchan. I have no say in this. But it's not that she is hurting anyone by calling me that. Why restrict her from—" Oh right—that was Katsuki's pet name to him. Katsuki looked at him with an are-you-fucking-serious face. "Okay, okay, I get it now."
He really had to figure things out.
"I am so sorry he's acting like that." Katsuki slammed the door after giving about sixteen reasons why Uraraka shouldn't call Izuku that way. Most of which—about ten—were overlapping to "He's mine and you can go fuck yourself if you think you can try to take him away."
"Huh—possessiveness. I can't blame him," said Uraraka. "Many people have different loving styles. I don't see any problem with that, De—" Ochaco grumbled.
Izuku shook his head that had an eccentric feel in it. "Y-You can just call me by Izuku if it makes things easier. Same goes to you Iida-kun." To be completely frank with himself, Izuku would let others use his first name. But over the years, no-one really cared about using it. He had told many, and none cared and still called him by his last name. The only one outside his family who bothered to use his first name was Katsuki. And the boy rarely even used it, growing accustomed to the green-head's pet name.
His two roommates brightened up. They allowed each other access to their first names.
"But yeah . . ." Izuku muttered. "I don't have a problem with Kacchan's possessiveness." He put his chin over the valley of his knees. "I have a problem w-with . . . myself. Like—do I really love him? Plus everything is going so fast . . ."
Ochaco said, "Ah . . . so you're already doubting for about a few hours after you tried to enter that level? I've had some of my friends in my old school that entered that phase just hours after saying yes. Why'd you even ask yourself that?"
"E-err . . ."
Izuku recounted his past experiences with Katsuki. He was careful to keep his voice quiet so as to not to gain attention from the other room. Ochaco clasped her hands with Izuku's. "You had it rough—" She looked towards the door and smiled. "—Deku. It'd take some kind of demigod to still have feelings for someone like that—especially considering you were the victim."
"Well, it's not just that . . ." Izuku's face seemed to gleam under the dim light. It was getting dark outside. "There were so many things that he had done to me that . . . kinda made me think that I actually could work out with him."
But, in fact, when both listened to his stories that had a lighter aura than the first ones, they noticed that they most occurred when they were pretty much new to the world. And most of which was before Izuku had received the doctor's report on his lack of a Quirk.
"I believe the only one keeping your affection alive is . . . the Bakugou-kun in the past." Ochaco took a quick glance at Tenya, who was wiping his glasses. She gave Izuku a solemn look. "But we're talking about the present . . . Has Bakugou-kun made you happy to the extent that equals your happiness when you were a kid?"
He had to be honest. His mind was blank. But perhaps happiness wasn't everything, right? He recalled the day of the slime monster attack. Why did he save Katsuki? Did he do that because his heart pumped for the sake of love or heroism?
He had the urge because no-one could do anything that day. Not even All Might. The impulse to save a person was triggered. It wasn't the impulse to save Katsuki.
He buried his head under his shirt. Perhaps it was just his teenage hormones at that time. Katsuki was on top of him. If he had to be honest, Katsuki was handsome, which was a trigger for testosterone. Maybe it was just the realization that he will never get that opportunity for a pretty long—
"Izuku-kun," Tenya said, "you are muttering again."
"A-ah, I'm sorry."
Minutes passed and there was a silence that dawned over them. Tenya didn't like seeing his friends in distress and disarray. Maybe he had to contribute a part also. Ochaco was showing Izuku that Izuku isn't in love. Perhaps—but maybe he had to extract more feelings than Ochaco can.
He uttered, "I may not be the first choice—or maybe even the last choice—in helping with romantic matters." He caught their attention. He pinched the bridge of his nose while raising his glasses. "But I do have a technique to help you realize what your heart really says in deciding something."
He pulled out a coin that indicates fifty cents of Euros. "If it's heads, you must keep your relationship with Bakugou-kun alive. If tails—" The intensity of Tenya's eyes made Izuku gulp. "—you know what to do."
Izuku crawled forward in front of Tenya. "B-but I can't decide s-something so big on a c-coin t-toss—"
"Trust me in this, Izuku." The command in Tenya's voice halted Izuku's complaint. Perhaps he was perfect as class representative. "Here goes."
The world went in slow motion as the coin took flight. Millions of prayers were sent to Kami-sama for every passing second. Prayers that what the coin showed would be the correct and best decision.
Tails.
Izuku's chest sunk. He felt like being devoured alive by a space bug. Bits and bits of himself fell apart. Amidst the internal chaos, there was a tiny voice of Izuku that whispered at the back of Izuku's head.
It should've been heads. Heads. Why can't it be heads? Can we please do a re-flip? IT HAS TO BE HEADS.
With only the voice growing more and more desperate by the second, Izuku wasn't able to stop the salty tears that travelled to his nose and made a leap of faith on the bed. Maybe he shouldn't have worn the All Might collector's item T-shirt . . . Maybe he shouldn't have also gotten tails.
"Judging by your reaction . . ." Ochaco didn't know why Tenya had a warm smirk towards Izuku. Ochaco wanted to protest, but he shook his head. "I'm not finished." He rubbed Izuku's back.
"T-Tenya-kun . . ." Izuku whispered after shaky breaths.
"I believe there is a voice that wants it to be heads. And I know you must give it what it wants."