Finals week goes by in a slow, agonizing fashion. His test are challenging, but there's never been a challenge Katsuki hasn't risen to with great efficiency and success. He'd bet his next paycheck that he's getting all A's. One downside to being so fucking busy studying is that Deku was also busy studying. They've texted a bit, but Katsuki finds himself dissatisfied.

He's never once seen him on campus—the fine arts buildings and the science buildings were on opposite sides of the campus—but he still catches himself looking around for him, hoping to see a glimpse of stupid, green hair, so he can casually run into him.

And then, as soon as he's not thinking about him, he appears. When Deku comes into the shop for the first time in over a week, Katsuki's heart literally flutters, and he's disgusted with himself, but he's also relieved to see him.

"Hey, stranger," Deku says, his voice warm and bright. It's a fucking icy, wintry hell outside, but Deku smiles and suddenly he's sweating like it's mid-August.

"Want your shitty latte?"

"Yeah, without the shit, please."

"Idiot." Katsuki rolls his eyes and gets to work. Deku gets comfortable in his regular chair. So comfortable that Katsuki brings him his drink and doesn't make him pay. Something is very wrong with Katsuki. He quietly berates himself behind the counter for being a sappy, lovestruck idiot. Eventually, he gets his shit together—well, at least enough to speak again.

"You heading home for the holidays?"

Deku shakes his head and sips on his latte. He doesn't offer up an excuse as to why he's decided to hang around for the winter break, even though everything around campus is a veritable ghost town the second the last final exam lets out.

"Me neither," he says, instead of asking. Katsuki's never been good at showing interest, and showing his hand. Still, he thinks Deku can see through all that. He offers up his own explanation in hopes that it'll get Deku talking.

"My folks went on a cruise. Apparently, they don't love me enough to invite me. So, I'll be here, getting paid to be bored out of my mind."

"I'm sure they love you just enough to spare you the invite," he says knowingly.

"What are you trying to say?"

"That you'd probably turn them down if they asked."

He's right, but Katsuki argues just for the sake of it.

"Who says I wouldn't love to be stuck on a boat with my parents for two weeks?"

"Your general sense of annoyance about everything and everyone."

Katsuki smirks at that, but he turns his head so Deku won't see. Deku doesn't say anything else. He's got that book in his hands again, chewing on the end of his pen.

"Why aren't you going home?" Katsuki asks.

Deku stares at him for a minute, and Katsuki can't decide if it's because he's surprised he asked, or because he's trying to decide whether or not to tell him.

"My dad and I don't really get along," he says finally.

Katsuki has to resist an outraged cry of something like how could someone not get along with you?

"Wanna talk about it?"

Deku has the audacity to look at him like he's a science experiment, squinting, turning his head this way and that.

"Does Bakugo Katsuki have a sensitive twin I don't know about?"

"Fuck off."

Deku giggles, and they fall into a comfortable silence. It's only later, after Deku is gone and the shop has been closed, that he realizes Deku seamlessly avoided talking to him. The realization sits low in his stomach.

Days later, Katsuki scrolls through his Winstagram feed at work because he hasn't seen another human being since nine am and he's bored out of his mind. The shop is due to close early for Christmas Eve, but Katsuki doesn't really know what he'll do after he locks up. He pauses when he sees Deku's username and a new post.

greenhairbluegrass merry christmas from me and my band #thegangsallhere #onemanshow #totallynotlonely #bluechristmas

The picture is of him and all his instruments sitting on the floor of what he assumes is his living room. There are Christmas lights in the background and he's wearing a Santa hat that clashes horribly—but also, appropriately, given the time of year—with his hair. There's another picture in the post, so he swipes over to it, only to find a video of Deku and his banjo. Against his better judgement, he unmutes it.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you

I'll be so blue just thinking about you

Decorations of red, on a green Christmas tree

Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me

And when those blue snowflakes start falling

That's when those blue memories start calling

You'll be doing alright, with your, your Christmas of white

But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas

It makes Katsuki feel like he's sweating. Too warm. So warm that it impairs his judgement. He puts down his phone, walks over to the section of journals in the shop, and picks out the most expensive leather bound journal he can find that also looks like it would suit Deku's needs. He buys the thing, and he's so frazzled he doesn't even remember to use his employee discount.

Before he can talk himself out of it he finds some wrapping paper left over from the Christmas event the shop hosted last year and wraps it up. All that's left to do is call him.

But if he calls he'll hear his voice—that beautiful, stupid, crooning voice—and he'll definitely chicken out, and then he'll be thirty bucks in the hole for no reason, and they'll both spend Christmas Eve on their respective couches, alone. So, maybe he'll just text. That's safe and innocuous and in no way going to unravel Katsuki.

Katsuki: where do you live?

Deku: if you're planning on stalking me you're off to a horrible start

Katsuki: don't be an asshole

There's a long span of time where Deku says nothing, and Katsuki wants bang his head on the counter for starting a conversation with the creepiest question in existence. And then, blessedly, his phone pings. It's a fucking Christmas miracle.

Deku: corner of 3rd and main. Orange door.

Katsuki doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. He spends the remainder of his shift doing closing duties and pacing a hole in the floor. After he locks up, he damn near power walks to Deku's door, cutting what should be a ten minute walk down to something like five minutes. He bangs on the door, his freezing knuckles rapping impatiently. He only makes him wait about thirty seconds.

"Merry Christmas, Deku," he says self consciously. He shoves the festively wrapped gift into his hands, and considers running away. He considers moving to the other side of the country and changing his name because he doesn't do things like this for people, and it makes him so nervous he could faint.

And then Deku smiles at him. "You want to come in?"

There's no running from something like this.