Day 4 : Tuesday

Katsuki was lying on his bed, playing with his cell phone without concentrating on what he was actually doing. While strangers were pacing up and down his room, dusting the carpet. Littering his desk with handicrafts. And his window was being repaired. He was annoyed. He had no place to retreat to. His routine was disrupted. Being on his second espresso before nine had read the most important articles in the paper and would actually do school stuff or sports in his room right now, but no. He was almost more annoyed than the rest of the weekend when the guys came to replace his window today.

He felt his control getting more unstable by the second until his agitation manifested itself physically. His right eyelid twitched and his foot bounced uncontrollably on his knee as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to gauge how long it would take these goons to leave. And how long it would take him to clean up the place enough to do push-ups without dust sticking to his palms. He checked the chat every hour, but his messages to Deku were still not delivered. He groaned.

Finally, the window was as good as new and the workmen left his dirty room without a word.

"Was about time!"

He had just decided to start a short run around the park, already pulling on his training trousers, when Momo called him around half-past ten and told him about Deku's scheduled arrival time. He had a hard time accepting that fact that he had become the last one in this information-line, but kept his thoughts to himself. It seems the lousy green worm had been back in the country for hours. And that means, his messages hadn't been delivered even though he was back in the country because-

"The little fucker blocked me."

"What a pity. But now you know." Her voice sounded even bleaker than yesterday, so he didn't hang up directly, but managed a counter-question.

"You ok?" he heard Momo inhale in surprise, rolled her eyes, and continued speaking "How do you know when they'll be back?"

"Shouto sent me a text message."

"A text message." Katsuki started laughing- but cut off when he realized that he would have been lying in his bed all day and almost missed the chance to have an ice&fire inferno if it wasn't for Momo.

"You're welcome. Bye." he looked at his phone with a soured face as she hung up without waiting for his response..

Now, knowing Deku wasn't answering his stupid phone anyway, he would gladly give him the worst conscience on the planet. He called him - and hung up as soon as the horn sounded. He repeated this with great satisfaction another 13 times.

Then it struck him that he had still suppressed his number.

And suddenly it was no longer that easy to press the green handset. He thought about it. Eventually, he let it go.

The hours until three o'clock dragged on like chewing gum for someone who didn't enjoy waiting and whose daily routine was completely upside down. He felt like a headless chicken in search of a useful way to pass the time. Such a wasted day.

But suddenly it was half-past two, and he was standing in front of his mirror with barely enough time to decide on a shirt. Grunting, he yanked the white shirt he was about to take off back over his head and looked defiantly into the mirror. There might come a day when he would consider exactly how he looked- but today was not that day. He pulled a black hoodie from the laundry basket, threw it on. He glanced at his watch and reached for his skateboard. The grip wasn't as firm as usual, and to his surprise, he realized he was feeling on edge. Nervous… and something else, something darker. Was he still mad? Definitely. But there was something else that lurked in his subconscious, troubling him.

He turned slowly and checked himself in the mirror again, instinctively looking for changes- but he found nothing unusual in his appearances.

Before closing the front door behind him, he put his cap on backwards to have a clear view while driving, then he threw the board into the driveway, expertly jumping on it and rolling down the street towards Midoriya's house. The thoughts and emotions in his chest were fighting a war he didn't understand, but on his face was the most disinterested resting bitch-face in the entire neighborhood.

His mother would be proud.

. . .

As Shouto steered the car into Midoriya's driveway around three-quarters to four, he was tempted to go straight into reverse. Something was off.

He got the feeling of driving straight into a mousetrap when the cobblestone made him wobble briefly in his seat and he noticed a movement next to the car out of the corner of his eye. He could barely pull the handbrake at the last second, before someone yanked open his door and hauled him out of the car by his collar.

After sitting for so long, the frantic movement was extremely effective in crashing his blood circulation, leaving him exposed and weak on his legs. Bakugou slammed his classmate's back mercilessly against the pick-up at the same moment the car jerked as the engine failed.

Being at the mercy of the sun for an hour, pensively pacing back and forth in the Midoriya's driveway had done no good to Bakugou's nerves. He was hot. He was on fire. His skin was itchy and every centimeter of the mere existence of Shouto fucking Todoroki was driving him insane right now.

Was this reaction exaggerated? Maybe.

Would he still go through with it? Absolutely.

This day had been shit from the first second, there was nothing he could do about it now.

He made sure to keep him at eye level. Todoroki's legs were soft and bent, his stance unsteady, and stared at Bakugou as if he were the incarnation of Satan. The scar around his eye a stark contrast to his pale face. Bakugou searched frenetically for words, but he wanted to say too much at one go. The corners of his mouth twisted into a creepy snarl.

"Kacchan!" through a heavy haze, he heard Midoriya climb clumsily over the centre console, then hop out of the car right next to his elbow. Something familiar tingled his nostrils. A smell that seemed to reach deep into his backbone, slightly easing his rage. Still, he did not break eye contact with Todoroki. The other held his gaze, half provocative, half defensive, but without batting an eyelash. As though he had done nothing wrong. As if it were his right-

"What's going on?"

Bakugou didn't move an inch. The death grip on the jumper in his fists made his fingers go numb.

The smell of searing fabric rose to their noses. Oh, that urge to take that stunned face between both hands and- BOOM.

"Kacchan, let him go. He has to keep going." For a short moment, he was distracted by a large hand on his. Cool fingertips settled on his heated fingers on Todoroki's shoulder, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rose. Midoriya cast an uneasy glance over to the house, but their arrival seemed to have gone unnoticed so far.

But Katsuki was still barely responsive, still not feeling like backing down. He had said absolutely nothing yet. He hadn't voiced a threat or gave them a piece of his mind about how much he didn't like this whole ordeal. At all.

No one was pulling this kind of bullshit on him, like ever, and then just drove off. An image of Momo surfaced unconsciously in his mind, accompanied by her bleary voice from this morning and Bakugou's chest bulged outwards as he took one last deep breath.

"If I see your ugly face again too soon, I'll rip it off without hesitation." With that hissed threat, he finally let go of the other's jumper and stepped back half a step, shaking off Izuku's cautious hand as if it were a lump of dirt. He'd hoped the asshole would go straight to the ground, but Todoroki quickly regained his footing and with the stretching of his back, the moment of shock was over and he took a step towards the sizzling blond. He remained still and stood his ground. A crackle between them made a pair of different eyes flicker briefly to his raised palms.

"Fuck off. Now!" he growled intimidating, raising his hands further, ready for murder. He'd like to put them on either side of the other's head and squeeze until—

"Dare to blame him for this-" began Todoroki, but Bakugou only saw red. His hands sizzled.

"Then he'll cry like he does every time he feels safe with you. Now get the fuck out of here."

Midoriya, who had been watching the conversation as if paralyzed, glanced from Bakugou to Todoroki. His mouth and eyes were round with unconcealed exasperation at not being the target of Katsuki's wrath for once. The angry blond was radiating confidence and unbridled strength in waves, without knowing the effect it was having on Izuku's pathetic heart. Was he acting like this because of… him?

The unfolding scenery made Izuku breathe shallowly. The insides of his pants were attending this conversation with as much interest as he was.

He. Was. Doomed. His imagination was going wild-

Blond hair tips gleamed like polished gold beneath his black cap, the red of his eyes shining with the color spectrum of a freshly cut ruby. Katsuki was ethereal, like an uncontrollable, raw force of nature. And anger was an emotion that turned him into a beast capable of bringing entire nations to their knees. He swallowed, cracking the bones of both his index fingers to focus, and finally asked:

"How does he know?" it came out breathlessly. Weak. And he knew he appeared uncertain to the two boys in front of him - or Katsuki wouldn't have turned to him inquiring. There was a calculating flash in his eyes and Izuku was completely disarmed by the sight in front of him, as incongruous as it was. Those four days were supposed to help. They were meant to break the spell those slender fingers and narrow eyes had cast on him years ago, but in that second Kacchan had his heart in his hands worse than ever. And sparks were coursing through his whole body.

"Yes, why do I know that?... I wonder what else I'm not supposed to know."

All of a sudden they heard a front door slam against the wall of the house behind them. With everyone breaking eye contact, the tension in the air burst like a soap bubble. There were three heads turned towards Ms. Midoriya, but none of them knew if the trembling of her small hands was caused by worry or an approaching loss of control. Izuku, and his whole body, had never been so relieved to see his mother's face.

Katsuki wasn't listening.

At least not any longer. With his cheek resting boredly in his warm palm, he chewed on a cinnamon gum in annoyance. He did not know why he was supposed to come in. Nor why he had done it.

He had no interest in listening to Ms. Midoriya scold her son and his fuck friend. Sure, it was satisfying to see them both alternating between white and red with shame and guilty conscience- but for him to even see the two of them near each other, and currently they were sitting across from him at the kitchen table, he had to cringe or look away.

He already told Inko on Friday, there was something off about the whole thing. And what had been her advice? He shouldn't worry. He was going to be sick. He looked across the table again and suddenly emerald green met ruby red. Instinctively, he narrowed his eyes a little. Everything inside him tightened. He was so incredibly irritated. Katsuki tried to exhale in control, but the guilt in Midoriya's eyes made him stand up grudgingly. Fuck it.

"I think there will be enough talking here for now. I'm outta here."

"Kacchan wait-"

Of course, it was Todoroki who prevented Midoriya from getting up from his chair by the shoulder. Again something sinister crackled in his bones, but he turned away and quickly left the room. The house. The property. He was furious.

As he left the driveway behind him to the loud sound of his skateboard's wheels, he was already deep in thoughts.

He and Deku would talk, now that the nerd was back in town sooner rather than later. So what was he going to do? To say? Would he be able to force him into a sparring match first, to get that annoying thrum out of his veins? Just why was he so angry in the first place? Was he angry? He was also disgusted, frankly. Of Deku, having King Emo's tongue in his mouth? Or the fact that he was neither shy nor evasive towards other guys? He noted that his internal reaction was restrained when the person he imagined with the green-haired man didn't have a face.

That struck him as odd. 'What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over'-fashion?

"Bullshit" he mumbled to himself, getting slightly distracted.

As he imagines himself with Deku, a picture close to his memories of what happened at that party one year ago, instead of IcyHot - In that second, he rounded the bend and abruptly cut off a couple who tried to get across the road without a crosswalk. The girl cried out in fright, her boyfriend held her back by the shoulders with an indignant look while Katsuki raised both middle fingers to his lips and blew them a raspberry. When he glanced over his shoulder just before entering the park, the couple was standing on the pavement, the boy holding his girlfriend's face in his hands and kissing her briefly on the nose before they both put their arms around each other and slowly walked away. He jumped off his board, lifted it from the ground, and slowly strolled across the green, neatly cut meadow.

He spat his chewing gum into the bucket on the other side of the park with a remarkable trajectory and lowered himself onto the swing.

Why kiss someone on the nose? What is the point of kissing at all? To prove a point? He had been more confused by his first kiss than anything else. He had been drunk the last time, and he had almost died of shock. And the spinning sensation afterwards had made him incredibly sick. He'd fucking thrown up because of that. He swayed his legs back and forth a little, the wind blowing gently across his cheeks. His red eyes were fixed thoughtfully in the distance.

Midoriya was a boy. He was not particularly tall, and not necessarily handsome. Or so he thought.

He was soft, sort of. But … so what.

Deku was intelligent. A contradiction in itself.

He was shy, but passionate for anyone but himself. And he'd known him ever since they'd found out on this exact playground that they lived very close to each other. And he also knew that Izuku was already in a couple relationships. Unlike him.

So he had a distinct advantage. But an advantage in what? Just what did one get out of a relationship? He was familiar with his parents' relationship, and if he considered himself and Deku in it, he would be in his mother's role. Dominant and commanding. That would suit. Deku Would be like his dad, reserved and shy.

Well, that would be okay. Most likely.

His parents weren't cheesy, or even romantic. But they were a team. So if he started something more serious with the nerd, it would just mean they could work together even more effectively. Wouldn't it? Was this what Deku wanted? For them to spend even more time together and maybe ... occasionally ... kiss?

As long as he didn't accidentally bite a chunk out of his face in the process, it was fine. If that was all it would take to make sure Deku didn't disappear from his sight again so unexpectedly, he was alright with it.

Besides, damn deku was smitten. With him. That meant he still got some time to find out if he could be that, too. If he understood just what it meant. At some point.

So he just had to make sure the damn bastard didn't steal his place as number one in Deku's life. After all, HE was number one in the other guy's life, the light next to every goal in it, or nothing at all. And perhaps things would work out without the conversation getting weird. And maybe the subject of a relationship wouldn't come up at all. Growling, he lifted his cap, brushed back his hair, and put it back on. He was sweating. Once again he realized how much he preferred to push feelings and everything related to them far away. He got up, although he still wasn't 100% sure what he actually wanted for himself and went home.

. . .

"You've got a new desk chair." Was the first thing Midoriya noticed as he hesitantly closed the door behind him and strode a few steps into the room. His eyes darted restlessly around the room, agitated and overwhelmed, almost choking on his tongue that kept pressing against his teeth in search of one more word to mumble.

It was early evening, the sun was already fading, but it was not yet dark enough to turn on the lights.

He received no answer from Katsuki, who sat on his bed with a book in his lap and his back pressed against the wall. He was wearing socks with little hot dogs on them, and that little fact reminded Izuku that this was 'just' Kacchan. And not an overpowering creature that could blow his life out like a candle.

"Your mum let me in." He began again, scuffing his foot across the soft, dark carpet.

"Cause I told her to. If you prefer lurking around in our garden for another couple of minutes, suit yourself." The dark voice was so different from the one he had heard in front of his own house a few hours ago. It sounded bored and yet Izuku's arms got severe goosebumps.

He nervously ran his fingers through his hair and continued to look around. His gaze lingered on the conspicuously empty shelves. "You've been tidying up."

"I was just gettin' rid of unnecessary dead weight."

Izuku bit his lower lip and his first impulse was to give in to the sense of loss the sentence triggered in him, to sink into it and lose himself in doubts and fears, but he wanted to stay mentally strong this once.

So he hung his jacket on the door handle, bridged the last few meters, and dropped onto the duvet of the bed, in a safe distance from Katsuki. He also slid his back up to the wall and then dropped his head back. They sat like that for a while, each at one end of the bed, while the outline of the sun slid across the carpet and the room grew darker. Katsuki didn't seem to be in the mood to say anything.

And Izuku, facing the silence, was eventually lost in thought loops, and he no longer knew with which intention he came over with. He missed the blonde. Quite badly, in fact. But now that he was sitting next to him and the gravity of the situation threatened to drown him, he suddenly wished himself back to the resting place by the sea. Back to Italy, where everything seemed easier. His heart was beating slowly and heavily, and he wondered if these were the last beats remaining for the boy next to him.

"What about me made you cry?" asked Katsuki quietly into the room without lifting his gaze.

"Huh?" Izuku swallowed and looked to the side.

"Half'n half told me you cry every time it's about me. I don't understand why."

Midoriya let the question roll around in his head. But there was something about it that bothered him.

"You didn't make me cry. Rather, it was due to you."

"Explain the difference" Katsuki demanded, putting his book on the bedside table, casually sliding off the bed and heading for the desk to get his water.

Midoriya took a long look after him. His nervousness prevented him from looking Katsuki in the eye, but he studied every other inch he could, from the bed. The colorful sunset made the other's silhouette glow in soft yellow and red. He propped himself up on the back of his chair with ease like he owned the world, and all the problems in it would combust and disappear in his presence.

There was nothing he wanted more, than for this to be real.

If he started talking now, he would end up telling him everything. A few days and a few mistakes later than planned. But he would say it and then be able to move on at last. He drew a deep breath and sat down cross-legged. It was now, or never.

"First of all, I wasn't crying. I don't deny that I've been on the verge from time to time, but I haven't cried. No ugly crying. Second, I just kept thinking of you a lot. When I was looking at the sea, I missed you so much. I wished you were there, standing next to me when I saw the ocean for the first time. I wanted to go on my first road trip with you. Just the two of us. You were the most precious person to me and so present in my mind that when you weren't there, nothing mattered to me. I can't really enjoy things I do with other friends anymore, because I am thinking about you all the time and that's not fair. Not to anybody."

"But what you guys did was fair?"

Izuku winced briefly and scrunched up his face in surprise.

"N-no. I don't know what I should do because of Momo-"

"That's not your problem. It's his."

Midoriya nodded and bit his lips again. Did he say it? Was whatever was trying to get out of him, out? Did he understand him? Why was Katsuki still standing there, unchanged, looking at him - waiting?

"Did you replace me?"

The question felt like he had been slapped in the face. He recoiled, and h initial thought was 'no' - but hadn't he done just that? Sure, there had been no one else but Kacchan behind his closed eyes, but the fact was-

"Deku," the other's expression had become menacing "you shouldn't have been thinking at all when I asked that question! Fuck."

Midoriya was overwhelmed. His brain was in overdrive and seemed to lose its grip on his head and flying towards the ceiling, spinning. There was definitely something going completely wrong here. Why was he being questioned like this? Of all the times to get angry, why was Katsuki getting angry now? What was he supposed to do? What was the other one expecting? Was there smoke on his face? Coming out of his nose?

"I-I dunno what ...-do ….?" Stammered Izuku and was about to shrug when he saw Katsuki slowly slinking towards him like a big deadly feline with bared teeth and piercing eyes. Basically the spawn of a nightmare.

All too late, Izuku's poor brain realised that he was probably about to get strangled. With a startled gasp, he untagled his legs and slide a hand's breadth further to the edge before the blond knelt on the bed directly above him with a swift movement.

He froze. All blood from Midoriya's body rushed downwards and his head became light like cotton. His brain was vaporized at that moment. His ears began to buzz and he could think of literally anything but the heat emanating from where Katsuki's crotch pressed heavily against his own.

This all happened in a split second, and then his entire reason for existence ended as a hot mouth pressed down on his. Wet, warm, and urgent. He caught the smell of smoke, everything blackened out, and Katsuki's grip on his collar was so tight, he had no chance to catch his breath. Time came to a halt. Everything stood still.

He was daydreaming. He was fantasizing. He was drunk and still in Italy.

Or so he thought.

"Kiss me back" Katsuki murmured, pressing his forehead against Izuku's. The other still could not process what was happening. His world was spinning, Katsuki Bakugou sat on his thighs and was whispering stuff to his face. This was too good to be true. The taller one seemed to interpret his stupor differently. All while his fingers began to tingle and his cheeks went numb. Cold sweat gathered on his back.

"You were not supposed to un-crush on me... I know I took my sweet time but- I need more. I know what you guys did, you got me good there. But I won't be replaced! Not after I made up my mind, Deku. …Shit. "

It was too much. He felt the weight disappear from his lap, the weight in his chest, the oxygen in his lungs. A year worth of self-doubt and longing had built a tower of anxiety in his mind, and Izuku had fought thunder and lightning on its top. Now the balance he had so painstakingly maintained was crumbling, everything collapsed and he fell. Was he nodding? Distantly he felt his back landing on the bed, but by then he was already unconscious.

It was not a heroic sight, but Katsuki lost his marbles at the sight of the lifeless body on his bed. He opened his mouth, but shut it again moments later. He reached out to touch Deku's face, then quickly withdrew his hand. Reopened his mouth, cursed in an upset whisper, grabbed his cell phone and fled the crime scene.

Kirishima's speed dial was number 2, and since you couldn't save your own phone number, the number 1 in his phone was never used. It took his friend 8 freaking seconds to answer the phone. Maybe he should switch numbers.

"Deku is lying on my bed. He fainted. I attacked him. There's nothing I can do about it. He is lying in my fucking room. I'm not allowed to throw people out of my window, but if I drag him out through the door, he'll wake up and I don't know what to do –with the body."

He stared at the inside of the bathroom door. Kirishima on the other end of the line took another few seconds, almost too long, to understand what was being hurled at his ears.

"Seriously? What do you mean by attacked? Why did you beat him up now?"

"I didn't. "he swallowed hard "I kissed him." His stomach turned with nausea.

He could hear Kirishima suck in his breath loudly, before he overheard him yelling for Mina and every other word was lost in a frenzy of jumbled shouting. He sighed and was about to hang up when he finally heard Mina's voice.

"Just keep your temper down. Okay? Go sit next to him, get him something small to eat, and then wake him up. Poor guy's been in the car all day, maybe he's hungry."

"He has replaced me with Todoroki." he stated.

"Absolute bullshit-" he heard Kirishima utter from the distance, then Mina was back on the phone. "This is Midoriya we're talking about. He he did not have the heart to replace his beloved All Might bedding for years. There's no way he succeeded in replacing his sole reason for existence within what- a weekend? Stay calm and try to approach him slowly. Imagine he's a rabbit and you're the big bad wolf."

"Okay, yeah. I see. So just doin' what I do best, staying calm. Listening, be quiet. Sounds awesome." Harharhar.

"Um, yeah. That sounds... good. Try that."

"...Thanks. To shitty hair as well."

He hung up and considered ordering pizza- then decided against it. He recalled whatever edibles were left in the kitchen, and his mind lingered on the garlic next to the fruit bowl.

A sandwich will have to do.

His way back to the realm of the living felt partly like déjà vu for Midoriya. He was disoriented, his head was heavier than he was used to, and his mouth resembled a desert. He slowly opened his eyes and saw nothing more at first than the flickering outline of a television in an otherwise black room. Was it night alreasy? Propping himself slowly on his elbows, he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Since he could not yet rely on his sense of sight, his sense of smell took over, and the realisation hit him like lightning in a withered tree.

He was at Kacchan's. Lying on his bed and - then he noticed the blond tips of hair sticking out over the edge of the bed, telling him that the other one was sitting on the floor with his back up against the bed, silently playing PlayStation. The game was paused now. Holding his breath, he leaned forward. He startled to see that, unlike what he had expected, Katsuki was not asleep. He simply stared at the flickering television. On any other day, this sight would have surely scared him quite a bit, but today was not a day to be timid.

So Izuku slid forward the last bit and hesitated. Then, boldly, he brushed his cheek against Kacchan's, which was so much warmer than his own. Izuku's heart skipped a beat. Katsuki shivered and lifted his hand from the controller in slow motion to bury it above him, in Izuku's green curls. The grip was firm and elicited a whimper of pleasure from the smaller one. …was he dreaming again? Still cold out? …No.

Strands of blond tickled his nose briefly. His head turned a little and suddenly Katsuki was looking him straight in the face from a distance of only a manga's length. It was the first time he was so close to him while both of their eyes remained open. The air was electrically charged, as it often was, but this time it was not because of the weakening tremors of an argument. Katsuki seemed to wait. His gaze was simultaneously challenging and hesitant. One eyebrow up, the other down.

Izuku shook his head before he really knew what he was about to say, and it was only when both blonde eyebrows disappeared behind his fringes that he remembered how to talk.

"I could never replace you."

The look in those red eyes became searching. And Izuku's mind couldn't get over the fact that Katsuki hadn't said a word since he'd woken up. The other's presence was an entirely different one without anger and rage.

Fingers disappeared from his hair, travelled down his neck and it felt like each finger left a small tingling flame on his skin. When he opened his mouth and an embarrassing sound wound its way up his throat - he was pulled off the bed onto the floor with a painful tug on his collar. Threads tore in his shirt. And he shrieked in shock.

As always, it seemed Katsuki's ultimate reaction to embarrassment was violence. Izuku lost grip halfway down, half-heartedly grabbing Katsuki's for shirt, but nothing stopped his fall. He landed on his shoulder with a crunch, hitting the blond with his knee in the face rather hard. This surely was going to bruise. As soon as Izuku's whole body was off the bed, he caught himself and ended up sitting at a safe distance from his blond friend with a sore shoulder. The latter rubbed his cheekbone with a controlled breath and looked at him unblinking.

The fall had put the green-haired man's brain back on the tracks, and he understood the extent of this whole situation. Kacchan had kissed him. He had been close to him. He had been so close to the other's body for the first time without being hit as a result. Izuku touched his lips in disbelief and lifted his gaze hesitantly. Katsuki's cheeks were flushed. Though Izuku tried to swallow, his throat was still as dry as sandpaper.

"There." He followed the motion of a hand to the desk and spotted an All Might cup filled with what looked like sparkling orange soda. As he skidded closer and closer to his destination, he also noticed a plate with a single sandwich on it. Stunned, he looked at the familiar gesture. His heart surged, and he swallowed again, in vain. It almost hurt a little when he finally choked down a cold sip of soda- but he hurried, almost tipping the cup over as he put it back down on the desk. His gaze lingered on the sandwich for a second, then he thought better of it and turned around. But before he could move a millimeter, the other had suddenly found his voice again.

"You wanted to talk so badly, so talk."

Izuku lowered himself to the floor, crossing his arms and legs in front of his body, watching the other's stoic face illuminated by the cold colours of the television.

"I don't really know what else needs to be talked about-" he began evasively, but stopped himself halfway "ok ok, yeah. Eh- no. I'm sure you can guess what it's about, so I don't have to elaborate." He lifted his hands to emphasise his gesture, and they gesticulated uncontrollably in front of his body as usual. "I think... you know. That I -I like you, like a lot and- oh dear. Let's not go there. I'm not prepared well enough." His hands settled protectively in front of his face and he could feel steam blowing out of his ears. But Bakugou's voice was slick and sobering.

"What do you expect me to do now?" he had his hands crossed in his lap. A defensive posture, as far as Izuku remembered correctly.

"I expect nothing," he replied honestly, "I just wanted you to know."

But he wasn't let off the hook, and Bakugou continued.

"Why, if you expect nothing from me? You could have kept it to yourself then, and we wouldn't be in this mess right now."

Green eyes lingered on his own hands for a moment before sliding across the room to the other's face. His expression betrayed not a hint of emotion. He reached back for the cup and gained a small moment by taking another sip. He urged himself to appear in control as well, and released his tension by taking a deep breath.

"Okay. Yeah, you're right. I wanted to know, still! want to know- who am I to you?"

"A good friend." Came the prompt response. This was to be expected.

"Who is your best friend?" the shorter one tried to be more specific, but as soon as Bakugou spoke, he could guess his answer. He wouldn't get anywhere like that.

"Kirishima and Denki. And Mina. ...And Sero, too."

"And me? Am just eh- a normal friend?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." He was beating around the bush.

"What did you mean by 'I made up my mind'?"

"That I had been thinking. I was at your house the day you spontaneously went on your honeymoon with IcyHot. I even texted you- who are you to block me anyway?" he leaned forward a bit and finally Izuku recognised the familiar strain on the other's face. The curled upper lip, the flash of pointed canines. That was something he could handle better.

"You wouldn't have written to me anyway," he replied flatly, shrugging his shoulders.

"No? Well, pick up your fucking phone and check it. NOW." He insisted emphatically as Izuku just looked at him dumbfounded, but made no immediate move to reach for his phone. But when he finally held it in his hand, he remembered blocking Kacchan on all channels. So it was not because of his rate that none of the messages had reached him - but because of the mere fact that he had completely repressed his stupid act of impulse from Saturday morning.

"…?"

"You …texted me." He cheeped, caught, but put the phone aside to read the messages later. Nothing was more important at the moment, than this conversation not turning into the worst moment of their friendship.

"Hell, I've stood outside your fuckin' house. Multiple times." He winced and made a face of a guilty conscience.

"Sorry. I wasn't really expecting that."

An uneasy feeling spread through his stomach as the same neutral expression took possession of Bakugou's face again. Izuku would give up everything for a mindreading quirk right now.

"So, what do you want to hear? Spit it out and I can finally answer you and all this dancing on eggshells will finally be over." Midoriya's answer came intuitively, a little rushed, as the other's distancing made him very uneasy. He ran a hand through his hair, slipped into a slightly more tense position, and replied, "I guess that- uh, would be 'I like you too' but I kind of think that would be too easy…?"

The sound of a long sigh rang in his ears.

"I just don't understand what you get out of hearing that? Kiri has asked me the same thing. I don't dislike you or I wouldn't be chilling with you."

"I would just know that you really cared about me. And that you'd be there for me and I could trust you completely so-."

"You can do that, now at least."

The phrase went warm through his gut and would later appear word by word in his diary- but he had not yet made his point, apparently.

"I could hold your hand." That was something you wouldn't do with a-

"Definitely not. I don't hold hands, tch. Sappy shit."

To Izuku's ears, that sentence sounded a lot like 'I don't want to hold anything of you at all, nor do I want to touch you unless I absolutely have to' and that fact was disheartening. He remembered fragments of the conversation with Shouto… and speaking of him…

"I don't understand you, Kacchan. Honestly. One second I think you're almost ripping Shouto's head off out of … jealousy? …and the next second, you're disgusted at the mere thought of holding my hand."

Tough silence filled the room.

"Why did you kiss me?" Izuku finally wanted to know, unsure of where this was going. Talking to Kacchan about feelings was as much use as teaching a guinea pig to read. But he resisted the obvious, pushing aside all the things Todoroki had told him in the car.

"To prove a point." Again, an answer he couldn't interpret. Was Katsuki deliberately remaining so vague to avoid giving him a direct refusal? Was he trying to let him go in gentle self-awareness? What was that all about?

"Which one?" he half-heartedly inquired.

"I don't like to share."

Was he serious? Izuku's first reaction was a rather exasperated groan. That egotist.

The contradiction in Katsuki's manner was driving him crazy, nothing made sense anymore. All the detours he used to explain his behavior, seemed to be useless suddenly. On top of all the hope and confusion, frustration suddenly spread through his body, and an imaginary thought suddenly took away any chance to get a clear head. His heart was laying on the carpet between them, the hole in his chest old and fresh at the same time, bleeding profusely. But Katsuki wasn't thinking about him, or both of them. As always, he thought only of himself... The pale pink on Izuku's cheeks grew to an angry red. He dropped his legs from the intertwining in front of his body and took a confrontational stance.

"So let me sum this up: You don't think much of anything beyond friendship. You obviously don't like me that way. You don't dislike me. But you don't like me being happy with someone else either. Is that what you're still about - you're - you can't stand the idea of me, living my life completely independent and free of you." He accused the other, biting the inside of his cheek as Kacchan's only reaction was to tilt his head slightly. "That's it, isn't it? That YOU could suddenly not matter to ME- you can't digest that. That it?"

He got no answer, and the silence struck a nerve in Izuku that had been freshly inflamed to often over all these years. He blinked and rubbed his face in agony.

"And to make sure that won't happen you even go so far as to kiss me. Even though you know how I feel about you."

A single "No" now floated monotonously around the room.

"What no?" snapped Izuku, standing up with wobbly knees and ramming the cup down on the desk so hard it spilled over. "What part of all this is not like that?"

"I'm just not ready. I need-" I. I. I. The word had come up too many times now. And Izuku had enough. His last thread of self-control finally snapped.

"And I was TOO ready, ok? Shouto was right. About EVERYTHING."

He was at the door in four steps and had yanked his jacket off the doorknob. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other get up as well. Albeit more controlled.

"Wait" he said.

"What's that now- your advice? No, I'm done!" the green-haired one replied, decisively reaching for the door.

"You only have this one fucking chance for you and me to talk about this. If you want to make a dramatic motherfucking exit right now, please - then get the fuck out."

HIS NERVES.

It took Izuku everything at that moment to ignore the urge to press his jacket hard to his face and stifle a frustrated scream in it. Instead, he took a breath until he momentarily blacked out, then slowly blew the air out of his nose.

"What do I get out of staying?" he asked, realizing in frustration how shaky his voice sounded. "I've had enough. It's enough. It hurts so goddamn much how cold you sit there - stand there - and-"

"Deku, goddamn it. Can you not interpret every fucking thing I do- for like 10 seconds? Just shut up and let me THINK for a second!?" the blond interrupted him and the intensity with which he spoke made him stop instantly. He replied nothing and just watched as the blond grabbed his sweater with a strained expression and suddenly stood next to him at the door.

"Let's take a walk."

"What?" asked Izuku, dumbfounded "now?"

"I need some fresh air. Badly." Still no concrete refusal. Kacchan just loved to torture.

The number of words Izuku mumbled silently while they got out of the house and into the cool evening air could have filled several novels. Katsuki ignored him until they were near the main street. He put his hands in his pants pockets, peered down at a mop of green curls for a moment before he finally started talking.

"What you said is true. I do like what we have. That's why I'd love to break every fucking bone in your pathetic body. We're so damn chill with each other right now. Our friendship finally relaxed. Why did you do that shit at the party last year, huh? What choice did I have after that, anyway? If I had turned you down right then, everything would have changed, we would have stopped talking, and we would have parted ways again. Right?"

"...Hmm" Izuku grumbled softly and started biting his thumbnail.

"Alright, so I ignored it for the sake of our somewhat 'new' friendship. And everything got all chill again- and then I catch you mumbling about some bullshit deadline and suddenly things came back up and I remembered the party. And I just don't know if I- and you- SO- if this is even going to work. We're so damn different."

The green-haired boy didn't answer right away. He felt strangely grounded. He had finally gotten a glimpse of the other's thoughts, could analyze them, categorize them, interpret them. And nevertheless, he came to no clear conclusion about how to continue the conversation. And out of nowhere, he thought of Shouto again- and all the things that were too uncomfortable for Izuku to confront.

He needed closure, today.

It was a bold move, judging by the thing things Kacchan had revealed seconds ago- but his patience was worn out. His heart was at its end. So he formulated his request for the first and last time as diplomatically as he could:

"Assuming that you and I remain friends, regardless of what you're about to reply to me, I'd like to ask you a question. I know you haven't dated that much, so - would you maybe just try... dating me once or twice? No commitment in any way and I won't do anything you don't ask me to do."

The blond stopped and couldn't seem to decide if he was pissed, curious, or distressed.

"What's so different about going out? Why not just staying friends?"

Izuku averted his eyes. That was a 'no', just nicely packaged. Right? His thoughts began to circle, he shuffled his feet and tried to put the defeat away like a champ.

"I don't know. I would-"

"You wouldn't make out with anyone else, would you?" Again, that was a statement that irritated him and he didn't know how to take it. And as he looked Katsuki in the face, searching for the first sign of a joke, he found none. So he answered just as clumsily.

"No, just with you."

Their gazes held for a little longer than a second, then out of the blue, the blond started walking again. He had that distant look on his face again, and Izuku had a sudden enlightenment. Katsuki wasn't just thinking, he was seriously considering.

But when an entire parking lot and another intersection had passed beneath their feet, the shorter one couldn't hold back any longer.

"Say something, please. …but- Kacchan- don't give consent just so you don't have to 'share' me. It won't work out that way."

"Why not?"

That guy is going to be the reason Izuku will be bald by the time he's 20. He sighed.

"Listen, maybe we shouldn't do this. I didn't get a direct rejection, but I also don't get the impression that you're interested in treating me any differently than before" he began, steeling his nerves to be able to go home right away with his head held high. But Bakugou had other plans.

"You would treat me differently? Different from how you do now?"

"Oh, God, yes."

"How?"

Yeah… how? The only difference between being a close friend and dating someone was physical. But he couldn't say that to his face. It was implied in his question, but saying it would kill him with embarrassment. Crimson eyes watched him insistently, trusting that anyone coming towards him would get out of the way while he kept walking.

"I-it's a hard question. I don't know how to answer it." Admitted Midoriya finally, somewhat dejectedly, pulling his shoulders up a bit and looking apologetically into Bakugou's face.

They arrived at the park and Katsuki remembered his encounter with the couple.

"Show me- then I'll answer" He challenged, suddenly blocking Izuku's way. The smaller one opened his mouth in surprise, his big green eyes skittering across his face. Not across the street or through the park, Katsuki noticed, but solely across his face. Midoriya's world, frankly, still revolved only around him. He straightened his shoulders and nodded in encouragement as Izuku asked breathlessly, "Now?"

"W-would you maybe close your eyes? I don't think you can tell how nervous I am, but if you look at me for over 5 seconds, my windpipe will be clogged by the lump that's forming in my throat and I won't be able to breathe - thank you."

Katsuki had closed his eyes with no resistance. Nevertheless, Izuku's heartbeat continued to multiply by the second. What was he supposed to do now? What was he going to do? He raised his arms uncertainly, wiggled his fingers, and pinched his cheeks for a second to make sure he was really awake and actually standing here. With him.

On the verge of a mental breakdown, he placed both palms on the taller one' warm chest to keep himself grounded. The fabric of the sweater was soft under his fingers, which shakily slid over both shoulders and buried themselves in the large hood. He leaned forward slightly and pulled.

Katsuki let himself be guided, as if they had both done nothing else all their lives. When he had tugged Kacchan down into his reach, Izuku wrapped his left arm around his neck. His right hand went into soft blond hair, and he gently pressed their cheeks together, as he had done earlier. Standing on his tiptoes, he was able to brush his nose over the sensitive skin beneath the other's ear. Did he feel a small shiver? He wasn't sure. All his senses were overwhelmed.

There was something about Kacchan's own scent that both sedated him and pumped him with adrenaline on the spot. He thought he felt a touch on his own hip, but when he paused in his movement for a brief second, the blond didn't move a millimeter.

Izuku pulled his head back a bit, would have preferred to squeeze both his hands together, but he couldn't, so he let his lips linger briefly on Katsuki's jawline, then pulled back even further and traced the soft line of his cheekbone. He withdrew the arm that was loosely wrapped around the other's neck until he could gently press his palm to his face. He risked a quick glance through his half-open eyes, but Kacchan's eyes were shut and he seemed unsure which touch to lean into. Into Izuku's cooling hand on his heated cheek or the direction of warm lips. Izuku relieved him of the decision by guiding Katsuki's head with his palm toward his own face, backing away until he could look him squarely in the face, and placing his other hand on the spot he had been caressing a moment ago.

He hesitated. This boy in front of him was Katsuki Bakugou. None other than the one who – who - - - but for the first time in his life, Izuku's thoughts were absent. Standing in front of him was none other than Kacchan. With his eyes closed, his face trustingly in his scarred palms. Izuku's upper body bent forward as his lower lip began to tremble. As the first tear ran unbidden down his cheek, his eyes burned with bitter sweetness.

His first kiss attempt missed its target by a few millimeters, and his lips gently touched the corner of Katsuki's mouth. He felt him exhale jerkily through his nose. Suddenly two strong arms wrapped around his waist, that small pressure enough for Izuku's mouth to find its destination this time.

All the wheels in his body turned backwards, the fear of rushing it suddenly made all his alarm bells ring shrilly, in the same second Katsuki pulled back. Wind brushed his face, cooling the wet spot in the middle of his lower lip, and he reopened his eyes. Eyes, red as embers were already darting across his face. He moistened his lips, drawing breath for something that would never be said.

Katsuki himself leaned down again in a blink, Izuku's hands simply hovering in the air behind his head, his fangs catching Izuku's lower lip. His knees gave way at that moment, his hands clawed desperately at the other's neck on the last second, and only the tight hug around his waist kept him upright. His eyes widened as he tasted the other's breath on his own tongue, his lower lip surrounded in the other's mouth by a heat that seemed utterly impossible. He could feel him right there, taste him right there. They were kissing. Kacchan touched him, he held him, and they. Were. Kissing.

His cheeks were on fire, his entire body thrummed to the quick rhythm of his heart. Unable to do anything at that moment, he simply sighed with pleasure. If he were struck by lightning now, or torn apart in mid-air by a strange power, he would go a happy man. Katsuki leisurely released his lip with a deep purr. The barely audible sound more memorable than any catchy tune. He managed to open his eyes halfway and gazed at the face in front of him as if it were the treasure of humanity.

Oh, he was hopelessly in love. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Izuku repeated in a hushed voice, clearing his throat. Neither had taken his hands off the other.

"Yeah. That's my answer." clarified Katsuki with faint smirk.