Izuku stumbled back from a punch barely blocked by his arm. Bakugo stormed towards him. Izuku backstepped his attacks, dodging and redirecting, adjusting to the lack of sight. He twisted out of a grab and drove his elbow into Bakugo's side. He stumbled away with a gasp.

"Good," Mirko called from the sidelines, "keep him moving, Izuku."

He gave a sharp nod before advancing on Bakugo. The heat of a blast caressed his cheek and Bakugo muttered a cruse. Movements sparked in his mind as Izuku avoided a kick and landed a punch to Bakugo's chest.

Keep him moving.

Izuku gritted his teeth, throwing punches hard and fast, searching for an opening. He wanted to

win.

Bakugo let out another grunt as Izuku blocked a punch, sending the blast crackling right. He grabbed Bakugo by the shoulder pulling him down as he drove his knee into Bakugo's stomach.

"There you go!"

Izuku threw his weight and knocked Bakugo to the ground and pinned him. "I win," he said through heavy breath, letting his head hang as he let the concentration go. He pushed up the blindfold and rolled over, splaying on the ground beside Bakugo.

"Shit, Deku," Bakugo breathed, rubbing his face with his hand. "That fucking hurt."

"Sorry," Izuku murmured with a slight slur. He rolled his head over to look at Mirko. She smiled down at him and offered an energy drink. "Thanks."

Mirko handed another to Bakugo before she sat. "So, you've finally won a match?"

Izuku hauled himself up and twisted off the cap. "My head hurts."

She smiled, teeth showing more to one side. "You were concentrating hard, huh?"

"Somebody—" he shot a glare at Bakugo who scowled back over the tipped bottle, "—kept thinking false moves. It was a lot to sort through."

Bakugo snorted. "One of these day's I'll get you," he promised, a faint smile pressed against the rim of the bottle.

"Looking forward to it," Izuku said as he stood. "But I won, so I get the first shower." He smiled when Bakugo groaned and fell back on the concrete.

Izuku looked at himself in the mirror, shoulders still rising and falling with heavy breath, and touched the scars on his chest. Beneath the warped skin, his heart hammered, coming off the adrenaline high. Izuku turned from his reflection and started the water.

When he came out, Bakugo was in the kitchen cooking lunch. He glanced up at Izuku.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, scooping rice onto a plate.

Izuku moved past him to the medicine cabinet. "The hot water felt good," he mumbled, squinting against the light. He looked up when a hand pressed against his forehead. "I'm fine, Kacchan. It's just been a while since I worked my quirk out that much."

Bakugo pushed his curls up with a slight frown. "What about last night?"

Izuku looked away guiltily. "Don't worry," he said, nudging Bakugo's hand off his forehead, "I already texted Aizawa about it."

"I want you to keep sparring with the blindfold," Mirko said, pulling her bedroom door shut behind her as she texted. "You're still a little off on timing. And practice with some of your classmates. I don't want you getting too used to Bakugo."

Izuku felt his phone buzz a few seconds after she put hers away. "I will." He took the plate of food shoved into his hands, stomach growling at the sight of it.

"You two better eat fast, you're train leaves in an hour," Mirko said as Bakugo set her plate down. Izuku nodded, too busy shoveling food into his mouth to answer.

"Do the dishes," Bakugo said, throwing the kitchen towel at Izuku.

Izuku swallowed with a nod as he walked off.

"Anything since last night?" Mirko asked after the bathroom door closed.

"No," Izuku said, his back to her as he turned on the water. He watched the sink fill while the bloated seconds passed. "Have you ever hurt anyone?" Izuku heard the soft tap of chopsticks being put down.

"Yes."

Izuku frowned as he scrubbed the plates. "Without meaning to?"

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for something that you don't even know happened, Izuku," she said, the chair squeaking against the floorboards.

Izuku stopped and stared at the wall in front of him, feeling bubbles pop against his skin. "But what if you did?"

"Accidents happen in the field," Mirko said, leaning back against the counter, plate in hand as she ate. "You just do the best you can." She set the empty plate down gently. "You're never going to be perfect."

Izuku met her maroon eyes. "Then how do you move on?"

The corner of her mouth tipped up in a sad sort of smile, years of experience hidden in the thin lines. "You don't have any other choice." She turned to him fully, crossing her arms over her chest. "A Hero doesn't quit with things get hard. You just have to do better next time. It's not easy, but you have to learn from it and move on. Like I told you."

"How do I learn from this?" He looked over his shoulder when the shower turned off.

"That you can do your best and things may still end up bad." Mirko set a hand on top of Izuku's

head and turned him so that he was looking at her. "And that's ok because you're still learning." Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face. "Why is this eating you up, kid?"

Izuku glanced away. "Because I promised myself that I wouldn't use my quirk that way again."

"Don't forget about Yuri."

Izuku looked back over at her.

"There was a little girl in serious danger, Izuku," Mirko said on a soft sigh. "Whatever you did was to save her. She's alive because of you."

"Yuri. . ." Izuku murmured, remembered the tiny, outstretched hands. "You done yet, Deku?"

Izuku looked over his shoulder at Bakugo exiting the bathroom. "Yeah, I'm all packed." He dried his hands, vaguely recalling Yuri's arms wrapped around his neck. "Thanks, Mirko."

She ruffled his curls. "Any time, Izuku."

Izuku followed Bakugo into his room, dropping his bag at the foot of the bed before falling face- first into the comforter.

"We have homework," Bakugo reminded as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"After a nap," Izuku mumbled into the pillow. He felt the mattress dip and a weight settle beside him.

"How's your head?"

Izuku couldn't help but smile. "Aw, are you worried about me? Partly your fault for trying to trick me the entire morning." He heard Bakugo let out a puff of laughter.

"You still beat me."

Izuku hummed at the fondness in his voice, something he only could hear while in his room. "You're not that hard to figure out when you know what you're looking for."

Bakugo chuckled. "I think everyone else would disagree."

"They don't know you like I do, Kacchan," Izuku said with a tired shrug. "Kacchan?" He opened one eye when he didn't respond.

The corner of Bakugo's mouth ticked up in a tired smile at Izuku. "Damn nerd," he muttered as he sat up and grabbed one of the blankets thrown across the end of the bed.

"What?" A chill brushed Izuku's skin as Bakugo pulled the blanket over them and moved closer.

Bakugo grazed his fingertips over the burn scars on the tops of Izuku's hands, smirking when he shivered. "I'm proud of you," he breathed, eyes falling nearly closed, and his hand flattened out against Izuku's skin.

Izuku focused on the ting of pink crossing Bakugo's cheeks suddenly feeling much more awake as his heart rushed in his ears.

"I had no clue what was going to happen when you showed up the first day of classes," he said, eyes focused somewhere on Izuku's chest as he reminisced. "With your stupid suit and your stupid hair."

"My suit is not stupid," Izuku defended, tugging the blanket to steal some, but Bakugo only moved closer. "Neither is my hair," he said, tapping Bakugo's nose.

Bakugo grinned. "It did on your skinny ass. I guess all those squats finally paid off."

A blush seared Izuku's face at the implication that Bakugo was looking at his ass. "You're doing that thing again," Izuku groaned, rolling onto his back.

"What thing?" Bakugo asked innocently, propping his smirk up on an elbow. Izuku glared at him. "That thing where you be nice to get me flustered."

Bakugo's other hand shot forward and pinched a burning cheek. "But you look so ridiculous when upset."

"Stop it!" Izuku smacked his hand away

Bakugo caught his wrist. "You're not using your quirk."

An exasperated sigh escaped Izuku. "No, Kacchan, I'm not. What made you think I use it all the time?"

"I would."

"You would," Izuku deadpanned, tugging his arm free. "Plus, I'm tired."

"Is an hour nap really worth it?"

Izuku peeled his eyes back open to glare at the ceiling. "If I want to finish my homework, it is."

"You'll finish either way," Bakugo said. "Any more Dabi?"

Izuku met Bakugo's red eyes for a few moments before looking back to the ceiling. "Not today."

"What was it like this time?" Bakugo asked through a yawn. "Was it some more bullshit about how you're not good enough?"

A laugh bubbled out of Izuku, and he turned over to face Bakugo. "I've actually been thinking about the things he says. I'm so worried about what happened with Dabi that I think those fears became personified in a way." Izuku sighed as he snuggled into his pillow. "The way he showed up after that guy said what he did is what got me thinking."

"That's your problem," Bakugo said, "you think too much." Izuku batted his hand away. "I mean, yes. That's also a problem." "You got too used to getting stuck in your head."

"I won't argue with that either," Izuku said with a soft smile. "It's only been a few months. I'm still figuring my quirk out." Another part of him worried he'd never understand the full capacity of his quirk. There were just some areas he wasn't willing to test out on another person's mind.

Bakugo poked Izuku's cheek. "You're doing it again, Deku."

"Will you stop that?" he snapped, pushing away Bakugo's hand, hating the way he grinned.

"When you stop overthinking."

Izuku snapped his mouth shut. "You know what?" Izuku pushed himself up with an annoyed huff.

Bakugo watched him curiously with a raised eyebrow. "What, Deku?"

Izuku shoved Bakugo by the shoulder so that he was on his back and swung a leg over. He dug his fingers into Bakugo's shirt, expecting a fight.

But. . .

"What are you doing, Deku?" Bakugo asked, his hands settling on Izuku's hips as he relaxed into his pillow.

"I—" Izuku swallowed hard, struggling to make sense of the feeling twisting his gut uptight as Bakugo's hands splayed on his sides and brushed the skin on his back where his shirt rode up, sparks igniting under his skin.

This is different.

The realization shocked a breath out of Izuku.

"Y-You know it's probably time to start dinner," Izuku forced out, feeling like he was frozen in place.

Bakugo tilted his head as he looked up at Izuku, eyes searching. "Probably," he murmured, a thumb slipping under the hem of Izuku's shirt and brushing his hip.

Izuku jerked at the touch, mouth gaping as he stared down at Bakugo. An ache settled under his skin, silently hoping Bakugo would move his hand higher. A hot flush rushed through Izuku as the bloated moment dragged on, the hands pressed against his skin growing warmer with each hollow breath that passed Izuku's lips.

"Uh, r-right," Izuku stammered as Bakugo's hands shifted. His deft fingers moved along Izuku's arms, traveling up and mapping the scars. Izuku jumped at the touch.

A small laugh left Bakugo's lips as he watched the way Izuku reacted to his touch. "You're skin is still sensitive?"

"Yes," Izuku breathed as thoughts pressed up against him. He closed his eyes, struggling to block the feelings coming from Bakugo out. They rolled off of him thick and unhindered like he wanted Izuku to feel them. Izuku felt his mouth go dry as the emotions that slipped through dragged a breath from his lungs and fanned whatever was stirring in his stomach.

"You're going to have to get off of me if you're hungry, Deku," he said, a teasing note in his voice.

Izuku hurriedly did just that and stumbled back from the bed. "S-Sorry. I was expecting you to throw me off," he muttered, finding the floor interesting. He looked up when Bakugo chuckled.

"You look like a tomato with your face so red."

Izuku slapped his hands over his cheeks and turned away, marching towards the door. "I'm hungry.

Let's go."

Somewhere off in the dining room, Mina was talking excitedly to Yaoyorozu about something. Their voices drifting over in a nice hum. Izuku focused on mincing meat, slices slow and deliberate as he tried to puzzle through his thoughts. Bakugo hadn't said anything since they got to the kitchen unless it was about the meal they were preparing.

His face remained at an uncomfortable temperature as Bakugo's presence pestered him. The kitchen was open, but it still felt like Bakugo was pressing in on all sides.

The touching. . . It was like the laughing. So inherently not Bakugo. Izuku paused his slicing as his thoughts drifted off on a tangent.

Or maybe it was him and just a part rarely scene. He noted a few times where Kiri managed to get in Bakugo's personal space with nothing more than a stubborn glare in response. Perhaps, in the comfort of his own room, Bakugo felt relaxed enough to open up that side of him.

Izuku went back to slicing as he thought back to their midterm and the way Bakugo had laughed at him. He remembered how his stomach had flipped at the sound and look on Bakugo's face. The way his stomach did the exact same earlier in his room.

This had been happening for a while, he realized.

He stopped mid-cut as his mind brought the question edged with fear to a thought. What if I like

him?

Izuku hesitantly looked over his shoulder at Bakugo standing in front of the stove, oil popping as he fried meat. He let his eyes trace the slope of his cheek and the curve of his jaw. Izuku's eyes drifted lower, over the strong plains of his shoulders and back, the curve of his waist in the fitted shirt. Bakugo turned slightly and Izuku's gaze trailed further down, to the waistband of his sweatpants and then even lower. Truly looking at Bakugo for the first time with what felt like a new set of eyes.

"Deku?"

His eyes snapped up, meeting Bakugo's eyes narrowed with suspicion and an insufferable smirk. Izuku whipped his head back to his cutting board, a blistering blush stinging across his face and down his neck.

"Are you done yet?" Bakugo asked, his voice vaguely normal, but Izuku could still hear the smirk in it and his heart raced faster.

Izuku nodded, struggling to swallow past the twist in this throat as he finished chopped as fast as his shaky hands could manage. He froze as a familiar body pressed up against his back, one arm circling his waist while the other was propped up on the counter.

"I didn't hear you."

Izuku shivered violently as Bakugo's lips brushed his ear, a bolt of lightning shooting to the pit of his stomach as he burned all over in a way he had never felt. Izuku struggled to pull away, scooping the minced meat into a bowl. Desperately trying to get his mind together as Bakugo's hand splayed and pressed against his stomach, coaxing him back.

Izuku spun around and shoved the bowl into his chest, putting a little distance between them. Bakugo glanced down at it and back up to Izuku with a questioning brow raised. Izuku stared at the pile of minced meat as he asked, "D-Do you still mean what you said? About not wanting to be friends?" His stomach lurched at the question, a part of him wishing he could take it back.

Bakugo's shoulders slumped, and he took the bowl from Izuku's hands. He set it down on the counter before looking back at Izuku. His mouth parted and closed as words died on his tongue with exasperated puffs of air. "Yeah," he finally said, looking Izuku in the eye, "I still mean that."

"I don't understand," Izuku said, his frustration seeping into his voice as he stared at Bakugo's chest. A hand pressed under his chin made him look up and meet Bakugo's gaze. A memory of stars sparked through Izuku.

This has been going on for a while.

"I think you do," Bakugo said, eyes shifting over Izuku's face. He abruptly stepped back, picked up the bowl, and went back to the stove.

Izuku turned to the sink and washed his hands, struggling to get his lungs working again. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Hatsume.

"I'm gonna go see Hatsume," Izuku said, his body rapidly cooling off as he got a plan. He needed her analytical mind.

Bakugo looked over his shoulder at him. "The foods almost finished."

Izuku turned to him, not wanting to give the wrong impression. "It's ok. I'll just eat whatever she makes."

"Deku," Bakugo said, half sounding like a scold.

"A couple slices of pizza won't kill me, Kacchan." Izuku slipped his phone into his pocket. "I'll see you later or I'll text you if something changes."

Bakugo didn't say anything as he walked away. Izuku was thankful for that. He was physically and emotionally drained, but some of it lifted off as he stepped into the cool night. His phone vibrated with a response from Hatsume inviting him over.

I still mean that.

The words buzzed in Izuku's head as he munched on pizza while one of their old sitcoms played on the TV.

Hatsume returned with two bottles of soda and tossed him one. "Alright, what's going on?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

"Remember when I asked you if Kacchan was pretty?" Izuku fell back on the floor, watching as the light from the TV stretched across the ceiling.

Hatsume scooted closer and leaned over him, her pink hair framing her face. "You're in crisis mode, what happened?"

Izuku stared up at her. "I'm just realizing a lot of things." "Like what?"

"I—I'm confused," Izuku sighed, forcing himself into a sitting position. "About him." Hatsume set her pizza down and leaned forward on her knees. "Bakugo?"

"All I've ever want is to be friends with him," Izuku said, looking at the half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand. He set it aside as his appetite vanished.

Hatsume laced her fingers together under her chin. "Friends. Ok. How is that going?"

"You know exactly how it's going," he grumbled, glaring off to the side. Izuku withered as he thought of Bakugo. He sunk into his shoulders and was thankful for the dark. "I don't think I want him to be."

"Then what do you want, Izuku?"

"I don't know," Izuku said with a stressed whine. "I want to be near him, and I want to spend time with him, and I want to cook with him. Those are friend things, but he says he doesn't want that and, well. . ." he trailed off as his heart tightened. "But I want him to look at me, and I want to touch him, and I just don't get it." He shrunk back. "Those aren't friend things."

Hatsume was quiet for a few moments, the low murmur of the TV filling the room. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Izuku muttered, thinking about the way his heart pounded at Bakugo's touch, the brush of his lips. "I think I like him." He tucked into his folded arms. "A lot."

Hatsume blinked down at him and softly said, "I think you have for a long time." She cocked her head with consideration. "Maybe the whole time."

Izuku's heart stuttered a beat as he remembered the first day he met Bakugo. "I'm an idiot," he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"No, you're not," Hatsume said. "From what I understand, love is extremely complicated." "Love?" Izuku breathed, eyes shifting up to meet hers. "I love him?"

Hatsume smiled. "I think you're crazy about him. I've never seen you so happy."

Izuku blushed at that supposing that it was true.

"And to be fair," she said, pressing her fingertips together with a slight wince, "friends don't sleep together the way you described."

Izuku's blood simmered with embarrassment. "Yeah, I was starting to figure that out." He fell back on the floor with a huff and looked over at her. "How long?" he asked, voice heavy with suspicion.

"I suspected after you lost your mind when he was kidnapped," she said thoughtfully, "but I was sure about two weeks into your transfer." She grinned, proud of herself as Izuku sputtered in disbelief.

"T-That long?" Izuku wheeze. He rolled onto his stomach, letting the floorboards cool off his face. He relaxed as Hatsume patted his head.

"I'm 86% sure he's liked you just as long."

Izuku turned his face just enough to look up at her. "You're kidding."

A grin split across her face as she rested a cheek in her hand. "You don't see the way he looks at you. What do you think he meant by 'I don't want to be friends', Izuku?"

"There's no way," he groaned, face smooshed into the floor. He looked back up at Hatsume. "You really think he likes me, too?"

Hatsume pressed her lips into a thin, frustrated line. "Izuku," she said gently, hands clasped at her chin, "why do you think he was blushing when he saw you in a suit? You looked really good, he liked that." She started combing a hand through his hair as he grumbled inaudibly. "Are you really surprised, Izuku?"

"I don't know," he said, letting his eyes fall closed. "I'm so confused about what I'm feeling." Izuku sat up. "It's not like I have anything to compare to." It was all laid out before him. Pieces of a puzzle he couldn't quite put together.

Hatsume poked his forehead. "Then ask. Sensors, remember? You have two people very close to you in a similar relationship."

"You think I should talk to them?" Izuku pulled out his phone and stared at the dark screen.

"I think you should go home tonight. They'll be better at answering your questions than me." Hatsume leaned over and snatched up the remote to pause the show that'd run into credits. "Love and relationships just aren't my thing unless it's with one of my babies."

Izuku opened his phone finding a message from Aizawa already waiting. "What should I say?" he asked as he sent back a confirmation of no Dabi.

"Just say you need to talk to them." She shrugged. "I'm sure they'll understand."

As Izuku was typing a notification dropped down from Bakugo. He hesitated before clicking on it. "I don't want to give him the wrong idea," Izuku muttered, lip caught between his teeth as he debated responses.

Hatsume leaned over his shoulder to read the message just asking if he was headed back soon. "Just tell him you're going to go home tonight." She smiled softly, the glow from the TV glinting off her cheeks. "You'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Izuku murmured breathlessly. "But what if he doesn't—What if I'm wrong?"

"Ok," Hatsume sighed. "Why do you not what to give him the wrong idea?" She raised her brows when he didn't answer and continued, "What happened that made you come over here?"

"W-Well," Izuku stammered, his ear tingling with the ghost of Bakugo's touch. "We were cooking —but before that, I thought he would throw me off—and anyway, his—he—and then I." He gave up as Hatsume started to snicker.

She ruffled his hair. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Izuku."

Izuku picked up his phone when it buzzed with a message from Mic. "They said I can come home tonight." He caught his lip again as he went back to the half-written text to Bakugo. He typed out the gist of what Hatsume said and sent it before his anxiety could stew. "Thanks, Hatsume."

"What me to walk you to the gate?" Izuku nodded. "That would be great."

Izuku followed Mic up the stairs to the front door, Eri skipping ahead. She bounced on the balls of her feet as Mic unlocked the door.

"How's school been?" Izuku asked her, light from the hallway spilling out.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. "We're learning division. It's really hard."

Mic scooped her up. "It's bedtime for you, little listener."

"But Zuzu just got here!"

"Sorry, kiddo, but you'll get to see him and Hoshi after school tomorrow."

Eri settled down with a pout as Mic told her to go brush her teeth. Izuku went to the kitchen to start a pot of tea while Mic put Eri to bed.

"Goodnight, Zuzu," Eri said, peeking around the corner dressed in pajamas.

Izuku leaned back against the counter with a warm mug in his hands. "Goodnight, Eri." He sipped his tea as Mic re-entered the living space, some of his anxiety stirring. "Where's Aizawa?"

"Patrol," Mic said, accepting the mug Izuku offered him. "He'll be gone all night. Did you want to talk to him, too?"

Izuku moved to sit at the table, Mic following him. "No, this is fine. I just have some. . .questions." "I'm all ears."

Izuku pushed his mug around by the handle as he got his thoughts together. "I think I like Kacchan."

Mic took in a slow, deep breath. "Ok," he said on the exhale. A few moments later he closed his mouth and set the mug on the table. "How about you ask whatever you want to ask, and I'll answer?"

"Yeah, that sounds ok," Izuku said with a small nod. He shifted in his chair as Mic fell quiet, waiting for a question. "I think I've always liked him, at least a little bit," he said, wondering if his childhood infatuation had to do with more than just escapism from his quirk. "You and Aizawa are the first couple I've been around. I don't think Shinsou and Kaminari count." Izuku relaxed a little when Mic chuckled. "I just think I missed a lot of signs."

Mic's face softened as he looked at Izuku. "I know a lot of this has been new and strange for you, but I promise you're not the first teenage to be confused by what they're feeling."

"I just want someone to tell me," Izuku whined. "I'm tired of trying to give words to things I don't understand. It just feels like more things that I should know but don't." He looked up a Mic, a determined set to his brow as he forced out the words, "I want to touch his skin and—" Izuku glared down at his traitorous hands, "—and every time he puts his hands on me, I feel weird. That means something, right?"

Mic's eyes were a little wide as he nodded and sipped his tea. "Yeah, I would say that definitely means something."

"I like him?" Izuku asked, drawing his hands into fists. "Does that mean I like him?"

Mic glanced at the actions, lips ticking up. "I think we have a bigger issue here, Izuku."

"What do you mean?" Izuku deflated as Mic leaned forward on the table and leveled a curious gaze at him.

"When did you start feeling different about Bakugo?"

Izuku opened his mouth to answer but only an unsteady breath escaped him. He folded his arms on the table and rested his head as he thought. "The midterm," he said, remembering how his heart had stumbled hearing Bakugo laugh and how his breath had caught when Bakugo pulled him close to get to the pipes above them. "That's when it started to change."

"Alright, so what did you notice?" Mic asked, his voice quiet and open.

"It was later," Izuku mused, spinning the coffee mug around, "that I noticed how my heart beat faster when he touched me." He sunk into his shoulders, static buzzing along his skin. "How did you know?"

Mic smiled. "Shota and I knew each other for a while," he said, eyes drifting off in memory. "I finally got him to laugh. Like a real laugh with tears in his eyes and he got all embarrassed, and well, that was it for me." His smile grew to a grin as he waved his hands around. "I was done for at that moment. My fate was sealed."

"That's it? You just knew? Just a laugh?"

"It wasn't the laugh, Izuku. Shota was always kinda closed off and introverted, especially in high school. So when I got him to laugh, I saw a side of him I didn't know existed. A part of him he kept closed off from everyone, but I got a glimpse of it. After that moment, I started just noticing things about him." Mic explained. "The feelings just grew from there and before I knew it I had a major crush."

Izuku frowned, a stressed breath coming out of his nose. "But I'm pretty sure I've liked him since I was a kid. This feels different. I don't understand."

"Ok, ok," Mic soothed, sitting up a bit straighter. "What feels different? Maybe if you explain it, I can help you make sense of it."

"It's just—" Izuku grasped at words, "—like sparks and this burning feeling that just won't go away, and I sometimes feel like I'm going to be sick because my stomach twists so hard." He rubbed at his flushed cheeks, staring hard at the grain pattern of the tabletop. "And when he touches me, I don't want him to stop. But Shinsou said the same thing as you, that I'd just know —"

"Izuku," Mic cut off, "have you considered that you've become physically attracted to Bakugo?" Izuku blinked. "Physically?" he echoed. "L-Like?"

Mic nodded. "You get all messed up in the head. Nervous. Butterflies. You just can't stop looking at them."

Izuku swallowed hard. "Oh."

"It's not a bad thing, Izuku, or anything to be embarrassed about. You're a teenager. It's kind of expected."

"So, then what do I do now?"

Mic tilted his head with consideration. "You could ask him out on a date."

Izuku cupped his hands over the sides of his face. "What do you even do on a date?" It sounded like a hassle. Life wasn't like movies, he knew that, but dates always seemed to be grand expressions of love or fancy places. He was sure Bakugo wouldn't like that. It didn't sound like much fun to him either.

"There are lots of things you can do as dates," Mic said. "We used to go to the movies." Izuku rested on his forearm, fingers tangling in his hair. "Why is this so hard?"

"I'm afraid that's just life."

Izuku jerked awake as his phone alarm rang. He quickly shut it off and laid back down to savor that last few seconds of sleepiness. Light illuminated his room. Izuku blinked as he registered that it was morning.

He pushed himself out of bed and put on a clean set of clothes before going to the living room. "Hey, you hungry?" Mic asked as Izuku entered.

Izuku sat at the table. "Very." He propped his chin up in his hand. "I'm going to head to school early to get my uniform and stuff."

"How's your essay?" There was a hint of knowing in his voice.

Izuku pursed his lips ate the plate of food set in front of him. "It's legible," Izuku said, shoveling food into his mouth. "I hope you like dogs."

He washed the plate before leaving. The air outside was cool and Izuku shivered, wishing that he'd worn a jacket. He was halfway to UA when his phone started buzzing.

"Hey, where are you? Bakugo said you went home last night."

Mina. Izuku combed his fingers through his hair as he hurried down the sidewalks. "I'm headed back to campus now. I need to stop by the dorms first, so I'll probably see you in class."

She was quiet for a few moments before asking, "Are you ok?"

Izuku's steps slowed. "I'm fine, I promise. I just needed to talk to Aizawa about something."

"Alright," she huffed. "You're almost to campus, right?"

"Yep," Izuku said, glancing at the perimeter gate beside him. "I can see the entrance. I'll see you in class."

"Bye, Izuku."

"Bye, Mina." He slipped his phone back into his pocket and pulled out his ID card.

The gate opened and Izuku took a left towards the dorms, walking against the flow of students headed to class.

The dorm was mostly empty by the time he got there, only a few of his classmates finishing up their breakfast in the common room. Izuku gave them a quick wave before rushing up to his room, changing, and grabbing his backpack.

He got into his seat just as the bell rang and let out a breath. Aizawa shuffled in looking more exhausted than usual. Must've been a rough night.

"Work on homework," he said before lying down in the sleeping bag he kept behind the podium.

The day passed with little interruption. Izuku stayed focused on his course work and Bakugo didn't say much to him. Which gave Izuku time to think and get his feelings sorted out.

He opened his bento and pulled a notebook out of his backpack. As he ate, he scribbled down his thoughts.

He liked Bakugo. He knew that. But when they were kids, he never considered anything more than wanting to be his friend. Even if it did annoy him, Izuku wasn't surprised that it took him so long to figure out that he didn't want to be just friends with him.

Izuku tapped his pen against the paper, leaving dots of ink behind. He was sure that's what Bakugo meant.

More than friends.

Izuku's eyes widened, and he ducked his head.

"Hey, Deku."

Izuku snapped his notebook shut and stiffened as arms draped around his shoulders. "W-What are you doing, Kacchan?" he hesitantly asked as Bakugo rested his chin on top of his hair.

Bakugo shifted so that his cheek was pressed to the side of Izuku's head. "Watching your ears turn red."

Izuku slapped his hands on his ears and turned to glare at him. He slowly retracted his hands when Bakugo didn't step away. "Don't you have lunch?"

"Finished it," Bakugo said, glancing at the half-finished bento next to Izuku's notebook. "What are you working on, nerd?"

Izuku stuffed the notebook back into his backpack before Bakugo could get his hands on it. "Just homework," he muttered as he zipped up the pocket.

Bakugo tightened his arms and pulled Izuku back. "You're lying," he said with a taunting curl to his lips.

Izuku swallowed hard as he stared up into Bakugo's red eyes. His breath caught as Bakugo brushed his thumb down his neck.

Oh shit.

"Are we still sparring after classes?" Izuku asked, voice strained.

"Mirko's orders," Bakugo said. His eyes softened as his thumb made another journey along Izuku's pulse. "Hey, Deku, I think we—"

"I know this great ramen place; do you want to go with me?" Izuku cut off in a rushed breath. He snapped his mouth shut and looked down, hoping to hide his burning face.

Bakugo stepped back with a chuckle. "Yeah, if you're buying."

Izuku huffed but smiled, nonetheless. "Sure, I'll buy."

"Where are we going?"

Izuku looked up as Mina sat down at the table. "I was telling Kacchan about this ramen place I know."

"I love ramen, we should all go! It'd be fun."

Izuku relaxed. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Mina turned to look at Bakugo. "Kiri was looking for you. He's in the cafeteria."

"If you're late to our spar, I'll make sure you leave with a headache," Bakugo said as he left. Izuku slouched, hating that it was a viable threat.

As Izuku shifted around the sparring mat dodging Bakugo's attacks, he picked up on a few concerned thoughts from other students. It must've been unnerving to see someone blindfolded while narrowly avoiding blasts, punches, and kicks.

Izuku focused on his movements and counterattacks, determined to win the match. He wove in close to Bakugo, smirking when he heard a muttered curse. "Did you ask Kiri about sparring tomorrow?" Izuku asked as he broke out of a hold and pushed Bakugo back a few steps. "You're starting to get easy." He grinned at the sound of crackling knowing it would get a rise out of Bakugo.

"Why the fuck do you have an attitude today, Deku?"

Izuku rolled out of the way of a blast and shot towards Bakugo, veering right of a punch. "I'm just saying," Izuku taunted as he twisted Bakugo's arm around to his back, "I'm getting the upper hand here." He pulled Bakugo closer. "I mean, you're just so easy to mess with."

Bakugo broke out of the hold and spun around, but his punch was blocked by Izuku's forearm. "I'm gonna ask Uraraka to spar, too," Izuku said, shoving him off. "Maybe Iida if he has the time." "You getting tired of me, Deku?" Bakugo said, strained as he pushed back against Izuku's block.

Izuku slipped under a punch and swiped Bakugo's legs. He pinned Bakugo to the mat before he could get his bearings. Izuku pushed the blindfold up. "No," he breathed, catching his breath, "I never get tired of you, Kacchan." He stood and offered a hand to Bakugo. "We should head back, it's almost time to start dinner."

Bakugo took his hand and stood. "Where's that ramen place you were talking about?"

"I took you there once," Izuku said as he picked up his bag, "when we were kids. Daishi's."

Bakugo had a slight frown as he glanced off. "I think I remember that. When are you wanting to go?"

Izuku shrugged as he pushed the doors of the gym open. "I don't know, I guess whenever Aizawa agrees." He looked up as they stepped outside. The temperature had dropped and the sweat still clinging to his skin made him shiver. "Guess autumn's here." Izuku took a deep breath, fingers knotting together with nerves as he worked up his question.

"You're doing it again, Deku," Bakugo chastised. "Spit it out."

"About last night," Izuku bit his lip as the words slipped out and Bakugo came to an abrupt halt. "It's—Well—"

Bakugo turned to him, hands shoved in his pockets. "What about it, Deku?"

Izuku's nerves relaxed at the defensiveness and apprehension in his voice. "You said you don't want to be friends." He watched curiously as Bakugo stiffened and his cheeks flushed pink. It gave him the courage to push on. Izuku stepped closer, searching the minute changes in Bakugo's expression for clues. "Did you mean—" he cut off, mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed and tried again. "What about. . .more than friends?"

The question hung in the charged air between them. Izuku was sure that's what Bakugo meant, but his resolve began to crumble as the stunned silence dragged on.

Desperate, Izuku grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together like they'd done at the convention. The action brought a blush to his cheeks, but he ignored it. "Did you mean you don't want to be just friends with me? Do you want something more, Kacchan?"

Izuku let out a stressed breath as Bakugo gaped but gave no response like he'd forgotten how to speak. "Because I do," Izuku said, dropping his gaze to Bakugo's chest. "I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I finally figured it all out last night."

"Deku—"

"No, I'm serious, Kacchan." Izuku curled his hands around Bakugo's shoulders. "I don't want to be your friend either." His voice softened to almost a whisper as he said, "I don't think I ever really have."

He looked up as familiar fingers pressed under his chin.

The stars. That feeling. The whole time.

"Ka—" he was cut off as lips pressed against his. He froze, body going rigid as he made sense of what was happening. Soft and shy, the slightest bit of movement. Izuku blinked as Bakugo pulled away, staring at the shine on his lips.

"Idiot," Bakugo muttered, cheeks nearly matching his eyes.

Izuku glanced between the blush and his lips, feeling his own flush extend to all corners of his body. "Di-Di—"

Bakugo covered his mouth as laughter bubbled out of him. "Being friends with you sounds like actual hell, Deku."

"I'm a great friend," Izuku scoffed, and he wrapped his arms around Bakugo's neck so he couldn't pull away. "So, I'm right?" He tensed as Bakugo's hands settled on his waist. "M-More than friends?"

Bakugo leaned closer, till their noses were brushing. "More than friends," he agreed softly, like a promise.

Izuku felt his heart jump and closed the distance between them. He froze again as he felt Bakugo's lips against his but tried to do it the way they did in movies. He tilted his head so that their noses weren't squished and splayed a hand over Bakugo's cheek. Izuku pressed his lips closed softly before opening up again. He figured that must've been good when Bakugo tightened his grip.

He did it again, falling into a push and pull as they figured it out. Izuku wove the hand he'd placed on Bakugo's cheek into his hair and tugged him closer. This was exactly what he wanted.

Izuku pulled away, breathless and feeling like his lips were swollen.

"More than friends," Bakugo said bashfully with a small nod as he glanced around.

Izuku did too, but the only other students were far away. It was just them. Izuku planted a peck on his rosy cheek before stepping away. "We have dinner to make, Kacchan."

Bakugo managed to get ahold of Izuku's shirt and tugged him back. "The extra's can starve."

"But I'm hungry, too," Izuku pointed out with a tap to his nose, "and you still won't let me use the stove. Besides, they'll get suspicious if we don't show up for dinner."

"Oh, so you want to hide this?"

Izuku shrugged. "Maybe for a little while," he admitted, running his finger along Bakugo's collarbone. "Just till we get it all figured out."

"Whatever you want, Deku," Bakugo sighed with a small smile.