勝て助ける！

                  -  ‘  Y - yeah  ?  !  Well  ,  of course I’m gonna say that when all of a sudden you’re telling me to fuck off when I notice something different going on with you  !  Though  ,  you  -  how did you do that imitation of me  .  .  .  ?  Don’t tell me  .  .  .  Kacchan  ,  you’ve been practicing my voice  ?  !  Why  ?  !  ’

                     Midoriya is laughing by the time the second to last sentence leaves his lips  ,  prompting himself to cover his mouth with the back of his hand  .  Oh  ,  there’s going to be explosions  .  But g-ddammit  ,  if this wasn’t the funniest thing ever  -

                      ‘  You admire me more than you care to admit  ,  huh  ?  Same for me  !  ’

Right now, it doesn’t matter to Katsuki where the fuck they are. The dorms, outside, in class, in public — Deku is absolutely fucking with him, and he isn’t about to stand for that. He’s got the type of tone he would never have used with him just a few years ago, and while Katsuki knows now there’s no ill intent, the usual reaction is still there. The pops of small explosions in his palms are thankfully hotter than his face feels.

     — “ Been practicin’ — hell no ! ” he snaps, baring his teeth in a sign of aggression. “ I’m a professional at talkin’ shit about you, that’s all ! You fuckin’ shut your mouth before you really piss me off, Deku. ”

“Oh, I’m trembling. Can’t you see I’m just terrified?” He mocks, rolling his eyes. “Everyone knows it. It was on national TV. You’re practically rabid, who knows how long it’ll take for you to become a villain.” The last line has cruelty added in, and he regrets it almost the moment he said it.

Fuckin’ finally.

Katsuki reaches to grip the collar of Monoma’s uniform, caring little if it’s becoming singed in the burning heat of his palm as he just barely stops himself from blowing the fucker’s face up. Part of him wants to say Monoma doesn’t really believe his own words — he’s just trying to get a rise out of him, and it’s working — but another part needs to punch his teeth out. He settles for something in the middle.

     — “ You really are fuckin’ stupid if you’re still spouting shit like that after everything that’s happened, ” he all but snarls, his grin something of a warning. ( he’s being generous, you’d better fucking appreciate it; ) “ After all the shit I’ve been through to get here, you think I’d fuck off to be a villain? Guess I was right about you losing brain cells. ”

Roughly, Katsuki shoves him away, taking a step back to regard him with a raised chin. “ I’m here to be number one, the best hero, didn’t you hear?! Or are you deaf as well as delusional? Fuck off. ”

“Her name is Kendou, but then again– I never expected multi-syllabic words to come easy to you.” He quips, body tensing, but unmoving in the proximity of the sparks. He can tell he’s getting under the skin, so he digs deeper. “It’s not really a surprise, with what people were saying about you. I always figured you’d be one to smash anything you don’t understand, including your own reflection.”

Like he could give two shits about the names of side characters that don’t matter to him in the long run. He barely remembers Monoma’s — only reminded when it’s spoken that, oh yeah, Katsuki hates this one. Some people just get under his skin for no reason, and this one’s one of them.

He doesn’t back down, but he can feel the quirk being absorbed again through the forehead contact– but worst of all, he can smell the scent of nitroglycerin wafting off him, enough to make his nose tingle slightly.

(He hates it, but never stops smiling.)

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be on a leash? I thought that was what they decided for you after your Sports Festival debacle. Maybe if they didn’t take off that muzzle, you wouldn’t be so inclined to start trouble.” He’s pecking away at easy targets, buttons he knows will get a rise.

( Fuck you, nitroglycerin smells like burnt sugar. Better than locker-room sweat. )

Katsuki’s grin becomes more of a snarl, straining at the seams as he all but forces himself not to move. That’s what the fucker wants, but it’s also what Katsuki wants, at this point. What he wouldn’t give to smash this guy’s face in the tile. His voice comes in through gritted teeth when he replies:

His mouth is pulled into a smile that’s more a baring of teeth, a sharp jab, even just by itself.

“What? Worried you’ll be left cleaning up my mess? It’s a better job than where you’re headed, anyway.” He sneers, letting the quirk fall to the front of his mind- so it’s usable, but not wasting his time limit.

The words mean nothing, really, but Katsuki just wants to hit something. If he waits a few more hours, hero training will let him. Monoma’s just pushing all the wrong ( right; ) buttons regardless. He wants to hit him.

They’re centimeters from being the same height, so Katsuki presses forward until their foreheads bump. A game of chicken.

Oh, ew, that’s fucking nasty.

But Monoma’s a horrible feral little man, so this is simply the gateway for him to be even worse.

He slaps his hand on the spit, leans in close, and then lets off a small explosion uncomfortably close to the sleeve of Bakugo’s shirt.

“Mind your manners.”

Oh, Katsuki is buzzing with energy. He’s grinning — who’s the feral little man here? — and squares up, chin raised and chest puffed as he meets Monoma half-way. He could slam his forehead into him if he wanted to ( he does, give him a fucking reason to go off; ), but he can’t start a scene for no reason.

@hcwitzer

He’s still smugly grinning and uses Kendou’s quirk to make his hands (and subsequently, middle fingers) larger.

( Oh FUCK YOU. )