Work Text:
Katsuki liked to think he was a good friend.
He made plans with Kirishima and Kaminari after grueling patrols, he showed up to Yuuei whenever Izuku needed a pro hero to host a guest lecture for class 1-A.
Really, he’d think the good karma he managed to rack as an adult would’ve offset his teenage years.
But there was a certain limit to this new leaf he was willing to turn.
“Please, Dynamight-san!” He was not sure how this kid caught up to him, much less voluntarily approached him after yet another guest appearance in Izuku’s class. One moment he was walking through the hall, eager to get home, the next he was being jumped by a 160 centimeter twerp.
“If you want an autograph, then you should’ve asked in class!” Katsuki grunted, waving him off. It must’ve been Kouta, judging by his ruffled up hair and red hat that was probably 10 years old at this point. “Really, I’m running late and have another patrol starting at—”
“I don’t want your autograph, Dynamight-san.” Kouta had the gall to look offended. “You don’t have to worry about that. I much prefer Red Riot.”
Katsuki stopped walking. “What the fuck did you just say to me—”
“This is about Midoriya-sensei,” he continued, bowing his head slightly. “I know this is a lot to ask, but you’re his friend, and I just thought…”
Shit, now Katsuki was getting nervous, too. He studied the boy in front of him - his antsy stance, lips drawn to a straight line, flushed skin. This must’ve been serious if he’d chased him down across the hall despite his futile attempts to flee.
“What is it, kid?” He asked, doing his best to mask his unease behind his usual scowl. It worked all throughout high school, surely it’d work now as well.
“Midoriya-sensei’s twenty-fifth birthday,” Kouta blurted out. “July 15th, right? We uh- we really appreciate him as our homeroom teacher and would like to plan a surprise, but we weren’t really sure how… and were wondering if you could help out?”
Now, Katsuki would never admit it, but the moment Kouta uttered the word “Midoriya-sensei”, deep down, he knew he was agreeing to anything he was asked. Because he was a good friend. Such a good friend. No other reason.
“Your teacher’s birthday, huh?” he asked nonchalantly.
Kouta nodded. “It wouldn’t be anything too complicated, but we thought it’d be a nice surprise if his best friend joined in, too.”
Best friend. Katsuki really liked the sound of that. He tried not to let the delight show on his face by doubling his scowl, pulling the sides of his lips down until it was physically painful.
“...And you’d want me to do what, exactly?” His voice trailed off, but that was enough of a confirmation as any, judging by the way Kouta’s head whipped upwards, a small smile forming on his face.
Kouta wouldn’t want to toot his own horn, but getting the Dynamight involved in their teacher’s little undercover birthday operation extravaganza might've been the greatest thing he’s ever come up with. The pinnacle of his academic career, if you will.
Dynamight had so much input on Midoriya-sensei’s likes and dislikes that made it infinitely easier to figure out all the basics - the flavour of the triple-decker birthday cake, the colour of the balloons and party streamers, the telltale music that was going to blare the moment he set foot into his office.
See, it’d go like this.
July 15th, history. Midoriya-sensei would be sitting behind his desk or pacing in front of the blackboard - either way, he’d be away from the window. The right window, which would’ve been strategically open to let in the cool breeze.
Twenty minutes into their period, Kouta would send the signal via LINE, and pro hero Dynamight would come flying through the open window, cake in hand. It would’ve been beautiful. Majestic, even. And this majesticity would create a little window for Class 1-A to move onto the next step - the poppers.
Whilst Midoriya-sensei was too busy swooning at Dynamight’s sudden appearance, his classmates would each reach under their desk and set off the party poppers. Balloons would fall from the ceiling, the class would erupt into a grandiose rendition of “Happy Birthday” with the pro hero Dynamight singing backing vocals. Everyone would have a slice of cake and hopefully, he’d end class early and forget about the homework he’d assigned them on Monday.
And just when everyone thought it was over and Midoriya-sensei ended their class early, they could move onto the second phase - wait for Dynamight to distract Midoriya-sensei during his lunch break to decorate his desk with All Might merchandise and present him with the greatest gift he’s ever gotten - a small All Might figurine that Dynamight insisted he didn’t have.
It was foolproof and frankly, this was going to be the finest, most intricate birthday surprise Midoriya-sensei had ever gotten in his life.
“I can’t wait,” said Eri, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You know, I’ve seen the cake that Dynamight-san will bring in, and it’s so beautiful! I just hope it’s going to taste good, too.”
“It’s got 13,000 yen strawberries in it,” reasoned Kouta, handing her a party popper. “It’s bound to be good.”
“I think I heard Midoriya-sensei heading our way!” called Yumiko. She’s been peeking out of the classroom door for seven minutes now. Running over to her desk, she gestured for everyone to sit down. “Everyone has everything?”
The rest of his classmates rustled with their party poppers or poorly concealed balloons, because how exactly were they supposed to hide them?
“Just act natural, guys,” Kouta called, shooting Eri a nervous glance. She grinned back, biting her lip when Midoriya-sensei walked into the classroom, carrying a large stack of books.
The plan was underway. Kouta could hardly sit still.
“Hey guys,” Midoriya-sensei greeted them, placing the books on the side of the desk. “I trust you’ve all had fun with those essays I’ve assigned last week, huh?”
Shit. Why was he bringing up the homework so soon?! Usually, Midoriya-sensei spent about fifteen minutes waffling on about his day, another twenty about Dynamight if they were lucky enough - his most revisited monologue topics consisted of what he had for breakfast, his brunch dates with Uravity-san and Froppy-san or the highs and lows of All Might during his Bronze Age.
Kouta panicked, knowing well enough that the weight of a couple of his classmates’ grades rested on his shoulders. Unsure of what to do, Kouta slipped his phone out of his pocket, typing out a very haphazard and misspelt signal. Typing with one hand under the desk was never his strong suit.
Maybe, if they had Dynamight-san crash their lesson sooner, he’d forget about the homework entirely, and his risk of being beaten up after class would diminish significantly.
“I sent the signal,” he mouthed at a sweating Eri. She looked over at the window, frowning.
“I hope he comes soon,” she whispered back, jumping in her seat when Midoriya-sensei began talking again.
“I know that all of you guys are looking forward to summer break, but we’ve still got a bit to go through,” he said, turning around and picking up the chalk.
“But sensei, doesn’t summer vacation start in a week?” a boy asked, raising his hand. “Are you sure about starting a new unit?”
“It’s never too late to start a new unit,” said Midoriya-sensei blissfully. “I’ll have you know, the Heian period is particularly interesting - I mean, both Katakana and Hiragana emerged in that time! Isn’t that interesting?”
The rest of the class stayed silent.
Midoriya-sensei’s smile did not falter. “Really, now. I’ll make you love the Heian period by the end of this semester, I assure you.” He turned around again, writing it onto the board. “Now, this period is closing out classical Japanese history, following the Nara period in 794.”
He paused, turning around with a raised eyebrow. “I do suggest you write this down,” he said. When he turned back to the board again, all that followed was the sound of notebooks being flipped open and pens scraping the paper.
“As I was saying, it started in 794 and ended in 1185,” Midoriya-sensei said, dragging the chalk against the board. “It all started when Emperor Kammu, the 50th emperor, moved the capital of Japan to Heian-kyo, or modern-day Kyoto.”
As eager as Kouta was to learn about Heian-kyo, or modern-day Kyoto, it was then that Dynamight decided to storm in through the window with the cake. Except—
The sound of glass shattering exploded through the entire classroom, sending small shards and shrapnels flying in every direction.
A few things happened at once. A couple of girls screamed at the sudden crash. Some stood up in shock whilst others cowered in their seats. Midoriya-sensei snapped the chalk in half, jumping so high he’d put several Japanese volleyball players to shame.
Dynamight’s limbs were splayed out in ways Kouta didn’t even think was possible, 13,000 yen strawberry cake squished in between him and the dirty school floor. He groaned, confirming that fortunately, he was still alive, even if from the looks of it, he looked like he’d rather be the opposite.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya-sensei shrieked, eyes flitting between his students and the dead corpse of Japan’s number fourteen hero. “What- how- I mean- what—”
“Is he okay?” A girl whispered from behind her clasped hands.
“I don’t think he’s breathing,” said a boy from beside Kouta.
“But he groaned - surely a window isn’t the thing that kills Dynamight-san,” another boy said, standing up to get a closer look at his mangled remains.
“Fucking… shit…” Dynamight attempted to roll over, groaning when an audible snap echoed throughout the room. He did not manage to stand up and all he did was smear more frosting on himself.
“The strawberries cost 13,000 yen,” bemoaned Eri. “I was looking forward to having a slice.”
“And why did he come in through the left window?!” Kouta muttered to himself, face aghast. “This could’ve all been avoided…”
“Oh, don’t give me that!” cried Dynamight so suddenly that a few students staggered back. He hauled himself off the floor, taking a shaky step towards Kouta. “I followed your goddamn instructions to a T and this is what I get? A faceful of glass?!”
“I said to come in through the right window!” Kouta shouted back, raising both hands as if to pacify a rabid animal. Despite half his face being smeared with vanilla frosting, he somehow still managed to look threatening.
“You didn’t fucking specify whose right!” Dynamight yelled, throwing both hands up.
Kouta looked at the shattered window and realised that, much to his utter dismay, Dynamight did have the point. This truly was a case of Schrödinger’s right window.
“I’m sorry, but can anyone enlighten me with why Japan’s number fourteen crashed through the window?!” Midoriya-sensei’s voice rose, and Kouta suddenly remembered that he was still standing there. And that this was supposed to be his grand birthday surprise.
Yumiko’s balloon popped from under her desk after squeezing it a little too hard between her knees. A party popper accidentally went out, pathetically launching crumpled up pieces of confetti at the floor.
Kouta shot up from his seat. “Sensei!” he exclaimed, pressing his hand to his chest. “This is all my fault!”
It was better to fess up than let the problem fester any longer. Perhaps if he did so now, he’d garner enough pity from the rest of his classmates when Midoriya-sensei inevitably gave them double the homework as punishment for destroying school property.
“As our homeroom and favourite teacher, we wanted to surprise you on your birthday, and uh- I thought it’d be a nice surprise to have your best friend bring in the cake,” he explained. The faces of his grateful classmates was all he could see, as he decided to shoulder the blame. “I want to apologise for everything!”
Out of his periphery, he could see Dynamight’s face soften. The sound of faint violins swelled triumphantly in the distance. This was truly it - the rest of the class would chime in “we’re sorry, sensei!” and Dynamight was going to apologise for breaking the window, and everything was going to work its way—
Dynamight pointed his finger at Kouta and howled, “He’s right! It’s all his fault!”
Kouta’s jaw dropped. “What?! You’re supposed to defend me!”
“There’s no way I’m defending your shitty instructions!”
“Enough!” Midoriya-sensei called and Kouta’s stomach fell into his ass - it was his “stern teacher” voice. The brusque, deep voice he reserved for whenever he was truly pissed, which was not very often. “Never in my four years of teaching…”
Which, to be fair, would’ve been more menacing had Midoriya-sensei taught for at least a decade, but Kouta wasn’t about to bring up semantics.
Even Dynamight must’ve sensed that something was wrong, because his braids cowered in fear when Midoriya-sensei whirled around, glaring at him. “And you!” he said, waving his index finger around. “As an adult and pro hero, you should know better than to encourage this kind of behaviour!”
“I just know that he would’ve been harping about how awesome his “Kacchan” is, had he flown through the right window,” the boy next to Kouta muttered.
“I think he’s more upset by the window breaking than Dynamight bleeding out on the floor,” Kouta replied. True to his word, what remained of the cake had turned a suspicious red, and he was quite certain that it wasn’t the strawberry filling.
“And you’d be correct, Kouta!” Midoriya-sensei said, an unnerving cheeriness having returned to his voice. “Do you know how much Nedzu-san could deduct from my pay for negligence? Teacher salaries are already abysmal as is.”
“I’m really sorry, sensei,” Kouta said, because he wasn’t really sure he could say anything else. At least Dynamight had the decency to look somewhat guilty.
“Yeah, what he said,” Dynamight grunted, and Kouta wondered whether it was to uphold his aggressive persona, although it was kind of hard to take him seriously when he was still swaying in place, the window having done a number on him.
“Well, you better be,” Midoriya-sensei sniffed, grabbing Dynamight by the arm. “I’m going to have to take Dynamight to Recovery Girl and I want the classroom to be spotless by the time I return. Do I make myself clear?”
The class chorused in agreement, standing up from behind their desks and walking over to the mess on the floor. As Midoriya-sensei ushered the half-conscious Dynamight out of the room, Eri bumped her shoulder against Kouta’s.
“Well, that couldn’t have gone worse,” she laughed, peering at the shattered glass. “And now we’ve been given clean-up duty. Great.”
“I don’t know why you’re complaining, Eri!” A boy called, already standing by the doorway with a broom and a dustpan in hand. “I’m glad - I mean, anything’s better than learning about the Heian period!”
“It’s always you two who get into such trouble, even years later,” was the first thing Recovery Girl said when Izuku wheeled Katsuki into the infirmary. She stood up and rubbed her hands together, welcoming them in. “What were you silly boys doing?”
“I fell through a large glass pane, Shuuzenji-san,” Katsuki murmured, letting himself be manhandled onto one of the beds as Recovery Girl inspected the severity of the cuts. “Window installers hate me.”
“There’s still bits of glass lodged in here,” she tutted, turning his arms over. Sighing, she headed for her desk, grumbling under her breath. “I’m going to have to get the tweezers!”
Katsuki’s eyes fell on his bloody arms. “You’re not going to chew me out again, are you?” he asked before finally looking at Izuku, who had been wordlessly standing by the foot of the bed. “You have that look in your eyes when you really want to say something, so out with it—”
“You’re so reckless, Kacchan,” Izuku jumped in, brushing his clumped hair out of his face. “And a mess. How did you manage to get cream into your hair?”
“I fell through a window, Izuku,” Katsuki repeated, not even bothering to fight Izuku’s iron grip on his face as he examined the damage, eyes squinting in the artificial light. He knew it was futile.
But despite his forced scowl, he could make out the faint cracks in his facade, and it wasn’t long before he realised that Izuku was pleased. “You did so on your own accord, yes,” he said and Katsuki couldn’t help but grin, immediately clocking his bullshit.
“I wouldn’t have heard the end of it if I did it right,” he sneered, wincing when Recovery Girl returned with a tub of warm water and a pair of tweezers. His voice jumped up an octave. “Oh, Kacchan, how incredible and brave of you- and oh, is that strawberry shortcake you’re carrying?” He leaned forward, crooning. “My favourite?!”
“I do not sound like that,” huffed Izuku, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.
“I’m going to clean this up before I start extracting,” Recovery Girl told them, picking up a washcloth and dipping it into the water.
Katsuki stuck his tongue out, licking the side of his lips. His grin turned lopsided. “The cake is really good, to be fair.”
“Don’t tempt me, Kacchan,” Izuku said, taking the sponge given to him. He paused, sponge hovering centimeters away from his face as if he were contemplating some kind of moral quandary, before squeezing the sponge in his hand.
He leaned down and licked the side of Katsuki’s face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Katsuki barked when he pulled away.
Izuku frowned. “I think I get to have a taste of my birthday cake, thank you very much!” He wiped the side of his mouth, face turning contemplative. “This strawberry jam is especially good.”
“They’re a luxury good,” said Katsuki. “13,000 yen per fruit.”
“Where did these kids find over 13,000 yen?” Izuku said, looking over. His face blanched when Katsuki stayed quiet. “Kacchan!”
“The cake was a premium offer!” Katsuki defended, almost jerking his arm backwards when he felt Recovery Girl pull out the first shard. “Fuck!”
“First the suit, now the cake!” cried Izuku, pressing the wet sponge to the side of his face. It oozed water. “What is wrong with you?!”
“You’re my best friend!” he said, tactically omitting the fact that the kids still had an All Might figurine up their sleeve as their grand finale that probably cost more than the two combined. “Shit!”
“It’d go a lot easier if you stopped wiggling so much,” Recovery Girl chastised, dabbing at his arm with a washcloth. “You have to be more careful, Bakugou-kun!”
“I’ll try not to fall through any more windows,” Katsuki replied with a bored look, squeezing both eyes shut when Izuku ran his sponge up his forehead.
“Sorry,” said Izuku. “Cream in your hair.” He rubbed it against his hairline, then pulled away. “I still don’t forgive you,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll need to take away your credit card.”
“Please,” said Katsuki, a lazy smile stretching across his face. “What were you saying about teacher salaries?”
“Nothing!” Izuku said in a cheery voice. Katsuki snickered before giving Recovery Girl his other arm.
It was a little scary how fast Recovery Girl managed to patch him up. He knew that she was a professional, but by the third minute, he was beginning to suspect that she had found herself in this exact situation before.
She pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his forehead and the cuts on his arms magically disappeared. “All done!” she said, stepping aside as Katsuki stood up. He was feeling a lot better, too. “And be more careful next time, you hear?”
“I will, thank you.” Katsuki’s head dipped down, obediently trailing after Izuku as the two exited the office. He bowed once more, just to be safe. “Goodbye.”
He turned to Izuku, shrugging up at him with an awkward smile. “Well. Happy birthday.”
Izuku’s gaze was unreadable. He swayed on his feet before taking a small step forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.
Katsuki’s lips parted, feeling the burn spread all across his face. “What was that for?”
“Thanks for putting up with my kids,” said Izuku, stuffing both hands into his pockets. The tips of his ears were red. “They’re a little… much sometimes, I know, but I can tell that they really appreciated the effort.”
“I fucking hate those kids,” Katsuki groused, dragging a hand over his mouth. “Just break in through the right window, Dynamight! We’ll leave it wide open! You can’t miss it! Well, when you’re actively trying to balance a cake in your left hand, you’re not really focusing on the open window, now are you?”
“Well, you’ve always been so… intense,” Izuku commented. “Would it really be the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight if he didn’t do things with a bang?”
“Do you know that they actually considered getting some other extra to do it?” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed, head shaking. “They debated between Uraraka and Todoroki before finally landing on me. Can you believe it?” His eyes widened. “Considering fucking Half’n’half before me? The audacity of these kids, I’m telling you.”
Izuku tapped his chin. “It does make sense, though,” he said. “Uraraka-san could’ve floated in through the window with the cake and herself still intact!”
“Floating in wouldn’t have been as cool,” insisted Katsuki. His entrance had the element of unpredictability - they would’ve seen Uraraka floating in the air from a mile away.
“But crashing through the window was cool, huh?” he grinned.
“The epitome of cool.”
Izuku hummed before knocking his shoulder against Katsuki’s. “Well, then they should’ve gone for Todoroki-kun,” he said, inspecting his fingernails. “He wouldn’t have gotten the windows mixed up.”
Recovery Girl was sitting behind her computer when she heard a big explosion echo from the hallway. She stopped typing, fingers hovering above the keys, but then merely sighed.
Some things never change, she thought to herself, and resumed typing twice as fast.
Despite the rocky start, Izuku had decided to cut class early because no one could really focus after that shitshow. Katsuki didn’t know whether it was because of the birthday disaster or whether it was because he was still awkwardly hovering in the classroom doorway, unsure of what to do, really.
“God, I’m hungry,” Izuku had told him once he walked out the room, balancing the five books in one hand. Katsuki couldn’t even see him from under all those books.
“You want to get ramen?” he asked, because that’s what they always got on weekdays, and he vaguely remembered Kouta telling him that they needed to get him out of his office during the lunch break. “My treat,” he tacked on, since it was his birthday and Katsuki was such a great friend.
Izuku’s smile widened. “You’ve read my mind, Kacchan,” he said, looping his free arm around Katsuki’s elbow. The stack of books hit his side.“But I’m paying! Can’t let you pay for everything.”
Katsuki scowled, but said nothing. Internally, he thanked the gods that watched over him, knowing that if he were to open up his wallet, he’d probably find a single yen coin and a piece of lint.
The ramen restaurant was a small, quiet thing, just a five minute walk from Yuuei. Katsuki always ordered the spiciest thing on the menu, crying into his can of beer and insisting he’d never order it again, fully slumped over the table whilst passing waiters kept shooting Izuku worried glances, mouthing whether they should call 119.
Izuku watched, half-exasperated and half-fond, as Katsuki nursed the can. He jabbed his chopsticks into the noodles.
“How does it feel being twenty-five?” Katsuki asked, eyeing the egg floating on the top. “You’re part of the big league now.”
“I wouldn’t know that yet,” said Izuku, chewing thoughtfully. “I was born in the evening.”
Katsuki flicked a scallion at him. Izuku grinned. “Quit being a smartass.”
“I feel old, Kacchan,” he whined, stretching both his arms. “All the kids in my class keep saying words I can’t even pronounce…”
“Your patience with those brats is astounding.” Katsuki clicked his tongue. “If I were to spend more than an hour locked in that room with them…”
“Well,” shrugged Izuku, giving him a knowing look from across the table. “I’ve had my practice for twenty-one years.”
Katsuki nudged his foot under the table, but couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face. “I can’t even argue with you on this one.”
“You weren’t that bad, Kacchan.”
“Oh, I was the worst.”
Izuku scrunched up his face in thought, then conceded. “No, yeah, you were pretty bad.”
“At least I died for you, right?” said Katsuki. “That balanced it out, I think. The valiant moment when we put all our differences aside - the time you ignored me for a day and the countless times I told you to kill yourself, you found the goodness in your heart and wholeheartedly forgave me.”
“Well, no,” said Izuku. “Do you remember our second year? When you won that All Might keychain, but let me have it?”
Katsuki’s smile dropped. “You forgave me because I gave you a shitty All Might keychain? You mean, I died for the country in this big, grand gesture and you still favoured the fucking keychain?!”
“It was really cute!” Izuku insisted. He pulled out his keys and lo and behold, a dirty All Might plushie hung on it. Its face was lopsided, eyes bulging out with barely any hair left. One pec was larger than the other, and his suit was so indistinguishable that Katsuki could’ve mistaken it for a botched, cheap knock off of that one American hero, who also seemed to own a large… ship? Katsuki wasn’t so sure why they kept referring to him as captain - he thought it was a rather stupid hero name.
“Look at his pained face,” Katsuki said, poking its left eye. “It’s saying something, Izuku. I think it wants to be euthanised.”
“Oh, like you’re one to gravitate towards cute things.” He did everyone a huge favour and put the deformed abomination back into his backpack, stirring his noodles again. “Don’t worry, All Might-chan. I still love you.”
Katsuki’s gaze fell on the bowl in front of him. He wondered whether it was obvious, whether he caught the irony in his claims, but Izuku only smiled back at him. He only ever smiled back at him. Katsuki sighed.
Izuku was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He’d keep slow-orbiting around him until he noticed, keep pestering him until he realised.
Katsuki ducked his head and took another bite.
“Thanks for joining me for lunch, Kacchan,” Izuku called from the top of the staircase. Katsuki turned the corner, frowning when he caught a glimpse of the twenty other steps he still had to scale. “I know that Uraraka-san and Asui-san have me booked for the weekend and I promised to catch up with Todoroki-kun and Iida-kun next week, but it was nice actually spending my birthday with someone.”
“Like I would’ve missed your birthday, nerd,” he quipped, ducking his head as he watched Izuku fumble with the keys. He leaned up against the doorway to his office, crossing both arms across his chest. “You hadn’t missed mine and I can’t let you win.”
“Well, I must’ve just gotten lucky with the dates and stuff,” said Izuku with a shrug. “Your birthday keeps falling on the weekend.”
Katsuki pressed his lips together, acutely aware that his twenty-fifth fell on a Wednesday. Izuku, who had a teacher conference scheduled on that day, drafted a woeful email to Nedzu about his pained absence due to IBS, and showed up to Katsuki’s apartment with a six pack of beer just thirty minutes later.
Which would’ve been fine, if the paparazzi hadn’t managed to take fifty photographs of the two of them at four different izakayas, getting gradually more and more wasted in each picture.
“Pro Heroes Deku and Dynamight seen celebrating Dynamight’s birthday together: Dating Rumours Arise!” was emblazoned on every single crevice of the internet for the next two weeks, and Katsuki couldn’t even imagine how Izuku managed to explain himself to Nedzu the day after.
“Whatever,” sniffed Katsuki. Izuku inserted the key in and turned. “You doing something later tonight?”
“I might visit my mom. It’s been a while since I’ve last seen her,” Izuku replied, raising his hand to rattle the doorknob. “Have a nice dinner, you know.”
“Auntie Inko does make great katsudon,” Katsuki reminisced with a sigh. Izuku began putting his back into it, pulling against the door until the whole thing was shaking. “You know, the hag had been pestering me about inviting you two over for lunch sometime.”
Izuku’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea, Kacchan!” he said, lifting his right foot and pressing it against the doorframe to better stabilise, before yanking back. The door didn’t open.
“I think you have to turn it the other way,” said Katsuki when Izuku began rolling up his sleeve, getting ready to Idaho Smash his way into his office. He knew fully well that he’d have to Idahaul Izuku back to the infirmary if he even attempted to do that. “Here.”
Katsuki reached around Izuku and turned the key to the left. As he turned it, his finger brushed against Izuku’s. Not only did the door open with a faint click, but so did every repressed memory of his twenty-year long crush for his best friend.
“Kacchan,” Izuku murmured, looking up at him. It was only then that he realised just how close they were standing.
“Izuku, I—” started Katsuki, but just then his Apple watch began beeping sporadically, making both of them jump apart.
“Spike in heart rate,” the watch beeped back at him, flickering “ALERT” in large, red letters.
Katsuki’s face paled.
Everyone knew that he’s been monitoring his heart rate after the war to keep track of his health, but it’s never acted out like this in front of others, especially Midoriya fucking Izuku. Suddenly, Katsuki wished he’d died in the war.
“How embarrassing,” he sputtered out, fiddling with the stupid device. He pressed it once, twice, in hopes of making the incessant beeping stop, but it only grew louder. “Stupid fucking watch—”
He didn’t even notice Izuku’s hands creeping up to cup his face until the calloused palm rubbed against his scarred cheek. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, touch featherlight, imperceptible almost, but it was there.
They were so close, only centimeters apart, Katsuki’s brain supplied lightheadedly. He saw Izuku’s eyelashes flutter shut, head angling to the right, and—
If things couldn’t get any worse, it was at that moment that the doors to Izuku’s office burst open, a mountain of confetti exploding onto both of them.
“Happy birthday, sensei!” his students all yelled out in unison. Some were holding balloons, others were popping party poppers. Kouta and Eri were ceremoniously waltzing forward with the All Might figurine in hand as Silhouette by KANA-BOON blared through somebody’s speakers. That is, until they noticed the compromising position Katsuki and Izuku were in. “...Sensei?”
The colour drained from Katsuki’s face for the second time that day, head begrudgingly swiveling away from Izuku’s lips and towards the kids. Izuku looked away, slightly dazed.
“Oh!” he said, letting go of Katsuki. He immediately began missing the warmth of his fingertips. “Did you know this was happening, Kacchan?”
“Yes,” he gritted out from behind his clamped teeth. He was not going to explain to Izuku that he’d long forgotten that they had this planned, way too eager to make out with the love of his life in the hallway instead. “Yeah, ‘course I fucking knew. Surprise.”
To make matters worse, one brat pointed at the two of them. “What were you and Dynamight doing, sensei?” he asked.
“I’m going to explode these fucking kids into oblivion,” Katsuki told him gravely. The furious blush on his face only grew when Izuku began laughing at him, hand finding his wrist. “I’m fucking serious, Izuku!”
“Are you really surprised, Michimiya-kun?” asked Kouta. “This is tame - even for Sensei and Dynamight’s standards.”
Katsuki felt his throat grow dry. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” he barked, ignoring the scattered laughter, snickers, wolf-whistles.
He couldn’t, however, ignore Izuku - bright, beautiful Izuku, whose laugh shook the entire room around him, whose smile blinded, enamoured, engulfed Katsuki.
“Why’s my own boyfriend turning against me?” he muttered to himself, letting himself indulge in this “what-if” for a little longer.
Izuku was still smiling when he looked over. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked and Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat. He was pretty sure that the damn watch was going to go off at any moment now.
“Not for long if he keeps laughing at me,” he grumbled, turning away. He was pretty sure that his face rivaled the setting sun. “Use your authoritative teacher voice on them, shitty Izuku!”
“I’m not going to yell at my students for surprising me with a—” His sentence peetered out when he finally noticed the figurine, eyes growing wide. “An 2144 Silver Age All Might figurine?! Version B?! The one from Kochi?!”
Izuku whipped his head towards Katsuki, then back to his students. “How—” he looked around again, and Katsuki was pretty sure he could see his eyes growing misty. “What—”
“I knew you didn’t have this one,” he said, triumphant. He’d long memorised Izuku’s extensive All Might line-up from the countless times he found himself in his bedroom. “D’you like it?”
“Kacchan!” Izuku’s lip wobbled as he threw his hands around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Katsuki’s hands instinctively squeezed Izuku’s waist, ignoring the chaos that erupted just five meters away from him.
Camera clicks, giggles, more party poppers - they could all go to hell, because he was kissing the Midoriya Izuku and nothing could possibly matter more.
“Spike in heart rate,” his Apple watch buzzed over and over, and over again.