Deku pushes me off.

(I expected that, but I didn't expect the rest of his reaction.)

"Kacchan!" His eyes dance around, scrutinizing my face, waiting for me to say it was a prank.

"Izuku," I reply without pretense. He cuts his eyes at me and I fidget, a tinge unnerved. What comes next could make or break me.

"What the hell?"

I tilt my head, my brows deeply wrinkle. "What the hell?"

His arm muscles tense. Their veins bulge down to his flexing hands and all I want is them wrapped around my neck. "Yes! What the hell was that?!" He starts pacing around my bedroom.

My eye twitches. "Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it, Nerd?"

"No. Do not 'Nerd' me right now, Kacchan! Why did you just do that?"

"Do what? Kiss you?"

He's freaking out so much, he garbles out his answer.

"Because I wanted to, idiot."

"Huh?!"

"Don't 'huh' me, Deku. I'm not going to repeat myself," I'm trying my best to suppress an annoyed growl. This is not the time to be aggressive, as irritating as it is that we weren't still kissing. "And stop pacing! You're gonna burn a hole in my folks' hardwood."

Deky ignores me as he starts muttering nonsense, which…okay, whatever, that's Deku…but then wipes his lips off with the back of his hand!

Damn. Okay…

"Oi! Don't do that!"

Deku stops pacing and ogles at me. "Don't do what?"

"Act like it was bad…" I frown, stewing.

"It was bad, Kacchan! It was disrespectful to my relationship with Shoto." His voice shakes and I groan. How annoying!

"Aw, hell! Don't start crying!"

"I'm not crying! I'm trying to control my anger. I deserve a better explanation because your hubris isn't good enough. So, explain yourself, Kacchan, right now! Or else I'm out of here." He crosses his arms and stares me down.

I don't know why I'm like this, but, "It's my birthday." He rolls his neck. I guess that's supposed to prompt me to say more, but why? I lean against my wall, knowing my face looks too smug to be easily forgiven. "Agh! I wanted to kiss you as a birthday gift to myself, okay? That's it!" I can't help but laugh, but I promise, it's nervous laughter.

Deku scoffs like there's a vat of phlegm clogging his throat. Now it's my turn to feel offended, though I know I have no right. It hits me too late that I have no clue how much Deku has changed in our time apart.

"You wanted to have your way with me after six years of no contact…" his eyes glow an incredulous green. "Because it's your birthday?!"

"...Yes."

"Fuck you!"

I'm not used to Deku cussing at me. I don't think he ever has, but as stern as he said it, I can't help but kid around. He's cute when he's angry. "Well, I'd like to do that, too…" I slide in there.

"Stop it! You don't get to make light of this! Of any of this! You have no shame, Kacchan. You waltz back to Mitsuhara after years in exile and seriously think you can do whatever you want like nothing ever happened!"

"Deku, calm down. It was just a kiss." I roll my eyes and turn to walk to my bathroom in search of pain relievers. He grabs my forearm— tight.

"Don't walk away from me, Bakugo. You know it wasn't just a kiss. You can't just take what you want from me and then act like it's no big deal. You owe me an explanation."

I yank my arm back—"How you figure?"—and rub my temples. "I already gave you an answer. If it's not good enough for you, that's not my problem. But can you stop shouting? I have a splitting headache already."

"No!"

"Why are you so mad over a simple kiss?" My pride sits like a boulder on my chest. "You and I both know we used to do wilder shit to each other than a measly kiss…" I loudly belch and move past him. My hangover is smashing my brain to mush. I've got to have a bottle of something hiding around to take the pain away. I used to keep a secret stash of travel-sized booze in my New York closet. I rummage through my moving boxes, mumbling, "Now where is it…?"

The snarl he let out behind my back…shit! It shook me. I spin around.

"You still think you're so above it all," he bites through his anger.

"I'm a recovering addict who just fucked up his sobriety streak. I can assure you I don't," I wryly chuckle. He ignores my self-deprecating dig.

"But after all this time, you haven't changed one bit. You're still the drunken asshole who ruined my life five years ago," shaking his head. "You left me for dead, Kacchan, and if it weren't for Shoto loving me, that's exactly what I'd be. But I still forgave you! But, of course, you don't give a fuck about any of that."

I crash on my bed as all the memories I long to forget rush to the forefront of my mind. How silly of me to think coming back wouldn't force them back out.

He shakes his head, indignant. "You're so selfish, Kacchan. All you do is take, take, take. All you do is take my goodness and burn it to shreds. All you did before was pretend like our friendship meant nothing to you, as you took advantage of how much it meant to me. Now you slap me in the face with it, again. You wanted a birthday gift for yourself so you had to steal it from me! You didn't even stop to consider asking me. Are you so morally depraved that you can't even fathom receiving something freely given to you? "

"I—" I hiccup. "You would've said no."

"Of course, I would've said no because I don't want to kiss you!" He picks up the baseball I've kept as a memento from our first skills test in the hero course on my desk. That ball is a relic of a bygone era. He rotates it in his hands, inspecting Class 1-A's teenage signatures and my breath hitches at the sudden thought that he might chuck it at my head. He unexpectedly lobs it at me so gently that I'm stunned, and cup it in my palms.

"I am not an object to be owned by you. Thrown away or cast aside like I don't matter—like my feelings don't matter." He's no longer yelling, but that's worse somehow. My gaze drops to the baseball. My thumb is rubbing his scribbled penmanship. The irony bites my tongue.

"I know…"

"I already gave you your gift, but you are not entitled to more from me, Kacchan! Damn it! But even that ounce of kindness was too generous, yet, still not enough for your greed. If I wanted to kiss you as your gift, guess what?!"

I peer up at him scowling at me like the villain I am. "So, you're telling me you didn't feel anything in that kiss, Deku?"

A cruel laugh fills my room. "I'm over this." He storms to the door, but it's my turn to stop him. "Let go of me, Katsuki!"

Hearing my real name come from his lips did something to my heart that I don't know how to describe. I stumble a step back—"No, Izuku."—but I don't back down.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because you're right," I soberly admit. "I'm an asshole and it was wrong of me to kiss you without your consent." He cranes his head to look at my grip loosing around his wrist. "Please. Stay. Let me explain."

"I've heard enough. Just…leave me alone, Bakugo."

"Then, please…" I release my hold and sit at the edge of my bed. "Let me make it up to you," I blush, and pat the mattress beside me.

When he stutters in place, second-guessing his frustration and decision to leave, I know there is hope.

I hoped.

( ◣∀◢)ψ

a/n: i'm sure a sub or two saw ch. 7's update and felt like it was a waste of time, but i'm wiser than to just make readers wait well over a month for barely eleven words without a plan. no, i just wanted to fulfill my teenage ff writer's dream of writing such an agonizingly short and angsty chapter that it's downright rude to release it on its own. but this bedroom arc has been in the works since i conceived of this story, and its pacing could not be rushed. if you want to know what events led to izuku showing up at bakugo's party, and to add more context to the angst, you can read my other mha fic, "someone to shoto" (ch. 6) to catch up as these parallel stories begin to unfold and overlap in real-time!

i hope you enjoyed the angst of chapters 6, 7, and 8, because 9 is a doozy as well. you have been warned.

and i hope reading this was PLUS ULTRA! ch. 9 is scheduled for a very special day in August release! (๑✧ ³✧) (▀U ▀-͠)

[I don't own the rights to MHA.]