SHOW ME WHAT YA GOT

@whatasmiledoes​

It’s a pretty nice day. Sun’s up in the sky, sky’s blue, weather’s pretty warm. Not too warm, though. It isn’t hot. It’s just right. A bit windy, but not ruffle-your-hair, blow-all-your-paperwork-away windy; just windy. Nice breeze. It’s a Saturday, too, which makes the day even more perfect. Everyone at the dorm left to have fun one way or the other, went for a walk outside the school, to the park. Electro-head and Rockster invited him off to the mall, and they pushed his buttons hard enough that he almost caved. But. But.

He can’t allow himself to rest, can’t let himself waste a day like this feeling so…. unproductive. He wants to do more, to do better. To be better. 

How else is he going to become the best hero?

So everyone can go right ahead and have the time of their fucking lives if they want. Let them eat snacks and buy shit and go to amusement parks or whatever. He doesn’t give a shit. He knows what it takes to become better than everyone else. He gets it. 

After all, look at All Might, look at how he’s lived his life. Sure, he has friends, has close ones, but other than that? Other than that, the man seems to just be that. He devoted his life to becoming the greatest, and that’s exactly what he became. And Katsuki gets it.  

So go ahead, call him a tight-ass (eat shit, bzzzt-boy), tell him he’s got a no-fun-allowed aura (go fuck yourself, long-ears), he doesn’t fucking care. In the long run – he knows this is where he should be on a warm, some-would-say perfect, Saturday afternoon: At his training spot, draining every bit of energy he has in his body in attempt to become better. To become the best. He’s got Eminem’s new album playing in the background from his phone and that’s pretty much everything that he needs.

Fuck everything else.

“— FUCK EVERYTHIN’ ELSE!!!!”

– -and he doesn’t expect the explosion to be that big, that loud. A few bushes ahead of him literally vanished from his sight once the smoke clears, and, slowly but surely, a small figure begins the reveal itself from behind the smoke –

… are you fucking serious.

He’s not even surprised at this point. Leave it to fucking Deku to be literally anywhere he goes. 

“…..”

(and there’s a feeling he won’t quite admit to in his chest, though, something that makes Izuku’s presence not… unbearable)

“…..”

He stands there, quiet, staring at the other boy breathing heavy; he’s just now beginning to realize how exhausted his body is, how exhausted he is. His shirt is covered in dirt, soaking in sweat, hair dripping, hands shaking from the practice.

(but he isn’t mad, isn’t displeased by Izuku being there, and maybe he’s just dehydrated, maybe he needs a fucking rest, but he opens his mouth without thinking, speaks the word in his head a bit softer than he would’ve liked– -)

izuku’s gaze slips from the video over to bakugo sometime during his explanation, and izuku can’t help but be completely taken in by the look on bakugo’s face : the pride in his grin, cocky and confident and izuku’s chest feels weirder and weirder by the moment. it’s like his heart’s doing backflips in there or something … kacchan really is amazing, he thinks, even though they aren’t really doing anything right now, even though they’re just sitting here close to one another listening to music. the thought is softer and warmer than any other time he’s thought it – less awed and borne from his battle sense and abilities and more just … a passing thought that takes up all of izuku’s thoughts. 

“ you really like his music, huh? ”  izuku murmurs softly, and his smile is equally as soft as he aims it at bakugo. he colors a little when another song starts up – softer and more …. there’s a word for it but izuku’s brain wanders away from it before it can get too close – slow and sees that bakugo’s gaze has turned back to him too. ah, izuku thinks, a bit mortified but also unable to look away, he probably saw me staring at him! izuku’s breath catches a little, green meeting red, and he struggles to find something to say, struggles to look away and break eye contact. the music is still there, playing just in front of them, but it’s like it’s fallen away – like everything but this little pocket of moment between them has fallen away.

----- -No.

No, no nonono. No. Nonono No no no. no.

NO.

It’s as though he lost all control of his own body. The way he leans forward, closer to Izuku, not just with his face but -- he turns his body towards the other, too, moving a bit awkwardly, a bit uncomfortably, the hand he has between him and the other feels weird, like he’s unsure when to put it now that he’s moved, and he raises it, then sets it back down on his leg -- only it lands on both their knees, between the two of them, and he just leaves it there and for some reason that feels like the most moronic thing he’s done in his life, zero IQ move, Mr. dumbass over here flailing his arm about and tossing it over other dumbass’ thigh. Way to fucking go, dumbass.

No!!!!

-- Not that it changes anything, he still leans forward, clearing his throat (and it’s too loud, mouth feels too dry).

Their noses touch.

NO NO NO!!!

Their noses touch and that scares him, makes him open his eyes a bit too wide, makes him jerk his hand -- the one holding the phone -- back, causing the device to fall between the two of them, and --

“Wh--”

He looks at the phone, pulling away from Izuku, his signature frown returning to his face as he eyes the phone, moving aside a bit - creating some distance between them.

and oh god, his heart is beating so loud he’s sure Izuku can hear it, sure he can tell by the color of his face. Izuku knows what he was about to do, knows what had just almost happened and fuck if that doesn’t make his heart beat faster. 

“--AAARHHH!!!!”

He jerks up, on his feet, hands at the sides of his head attempting to hide some of the redness he feels has crept up to his ears, to his fucking nose. 

there’s an odd look on izuku’s face, even when bakugo looks away back towards the phone. izuku’s heart feels unsteady, like the wobbling lines of his mouth. izuku doesn’t put up any protest when bakugo plucks the phone from him though, already having known it was coming but also feeling blindsided regardless by the casual action combined with having looked bakugo so closely in the eyes that he could see the different tones of red in them and wow they really were red and its those thoughts that short-circuit his brain for a second until he’s left staring at his empty hands with a blush. what’s wrong with me? he wonders, immensely glad when the music starts up and he can focus on something else, something that’s not — not how off-balance he feels.

“ wow! ”  izuku had been expecting something … well, different. louder, maybe? faster? still — the song does sound like something kacchan would listen to, and izuku smiles a little at that thought, knowing bakugo is sharing a song that he likes with him. it’s a little fact that no one else would know probably, and izuku feels warm and giddy inside at knowing he’s the one who does. and izuku has to admit … the cover is really catchy, especially with the guitarist’s talent!   “ he’s incredible! ”   it feels like he’d pay more attention to watching the video than he would reading his notes, though …. the video finishes and jumps over to the next one in the recommended feed, and izuku’s still drawn in, scooting closer and leaning up so that he’s able to peer at the phone screen, head directly opposite of bakugo’s and eyes glued to the screen as his free hand comes up to pinch at his bottom lip in thought.  “ how he does he play so fast … ? ”  he mumbles out loud.

There’s a pinch of pride (”pinch”) in his chest at how easily it was to get Izuku to be impressed with the guitarist, and it shows across his face, too - lips curving into a cocky little grin, eyebrows frowning slightly to up that cocky expression by five extra points. “He’s a fuckin’ beast,” Katsuki’s smirk widens a bit with the claim, “It’s not just how fast he plays though, look -- ‘s more than just practice, y’know? Ya can just tell he was born t’ do this shit.”

It’s something he could appreciate in anything. Passion -- the drive to do something you just know you were born to do. Something that pushes you forward. Sets you apart from anyone else. The second song ends and Katsuki mumbles a quiet little ‘hold on’ before looking through the recommended videos for a specific cover, mumbling a quiet ‘there’ when he finds it. 

when he clicks it, an ad pops up, some random shit about one app or another, and he side glances at Izuku, feeling his cheek redden again, feeling his heartbeat fasten. it’s when he realizes he’s got one hand on the phone and Izuku’s hand is on the other side of it, mirroring the way he’s holding it.

The intro begins, quiet, before the music picks up, becomes a bit more apparent, and it catches Izuku’s gaze again, leaves Katsuki staring at the other stare at the screen. 

this kind of closeness isn’t new to them anymore : the way their arms brush, or the sides of their legs press together as they sit and study, the comfortable silences and the muttered comments to one another as they work. how izuku’s hands brush past bakugo’s at times when pointing something out on his paper or the textbook. it’s familiar territory by now, something izuku wouldn’t have dared to dream of a year ago. but a year ago feels like a lifetime, ago now. still … he can feel the heat that bakugo gives off as he peers over his shoulder, and izuku gets a sort of shiver — not out of intimidation or fear but … just a prickle of awareness that someone is watching him over his shoulder. that kacchan is peering over his shoulder and izuku tries not to dwell too long on that, cheeks pink. 

“ no it’s not. ”  izuku mumbles, hoping the way his face has mysteriously, oddly heated up will be chalked up to  justified indignation.   “ what kind of music does kacchan listen to when he studies, then? ”   he asks this, and turns his head to look up from his notebook and towards bakugo —- only to find them nearly nose to nose.

Katsuki’s heart begins to do this weird thing that it’s been doing around Izuku lately, and - although he’s used to it by now - it always makes him feel.... tense? Self conscious? He’s not even sure anymore, but it’s something that’s been happening around Izuku far too often, and, at this point -- he knows what it is.

He lifts his head, looking at the other as he speaks up, and they’re close, far too close, enough that he could just lean in and -- no, no, he frowns deeply, keeping the closeness (he’s not a fucking pussy, okay), but turning his face back towards Izuku’s phone, reaching a hand to grab the device from his hands. 

“Gimme that,”

and their hands brush with a bit of a linger that Katsuki would never own up to; thumb staying atop of Izuku’s a second longer than it needs to but he doesn’t care at this point, he just does it, just lets moments like these happen.

“None o’ this shit, to start with,”

his fingers move swiftly over the phone’s letters (and there’s a moment of hesitation because he kind of wants Izuku to like whatever he chooses to play and that’s stupid because it shouldn’t fucking matter if he likes it or not, his taste in music is motherfucking flawless, Izuku can suck a dick--), frown deepening before he finally continues to type in ‘Miyavi Rockstart’ and opens the link. He waits a moment, letting the music play for a bit before he adds:

“ my taste in music doesn’t suck, kacchan! ”   they’re seated on the floor of his room, notebooks sprawled open around them and izuku’s phone playing music from his favorite study playlist between them. they’re close enough that their shoulders bump together every so often, and izuku feels a bit of heat in his cheeks from embarrassment and wanting to defend his music choices. he doesn’t listen to music all that often, but he doesn’t think his choices are bad … !   “ it’s good music for studying … ! and i listen to different stuff when i’m working out. ”  //  @winandsave​

So. It’s not like he hates Izuku’s music choises-- not exactly, but his taste - Katsuki’s taste - is far superior to the other boy’s. Still. Still. Since they had been assigned to work on a project together, they’ve made an agreement that they’d take turns making playlists, and, well... it was Izuku’s turn.  

he finds himself leaning against the other’s shoulder, peaking over it at his phone to catch the name of the song playing, seeking the warmth that comes with how close they are, the discomforting comfort that Izuku’s arm offers as it presses against his own, and he’s sure his cheeks are red, or at least pink, can feel the embarrassing warmth creeping up to the sides of his face, nearing his ears.

He scrunches his nose with a bit of a sniff, shaking his head a bit.

“It’s fuckin’ garbage.”

saveandwin‌:

“ kacchan n - no!! heh – hah — s - stopppPFFTT!!  ”  izuku can’t stop his giggling, the fine wispy hairs of bakugo’s head – now somewhat lumpy and wet with egg (ew) – tickling his cheek and neck and they’re gonna be so gross by the end of this, there’s no way they’re going to be able to cook anything now with how many ingredients they’ve wasted —–

izuku continues to push at katsuki’s head, trying to stop his impromptu giggling fit and give his aching stomach a rest when he stumbles, and that’s enough for his feet to get tangled up and for him to lose his balance with katsuki’s added weight. izuku falls back, hands still gripping at katsuki and bringing the other boy down with him as he barely manages to avoid hitting his head on the floor. that would have been bad … ! he thinks, even as he wheezes for breath and pushes at katsuki. 

“ k - kacchan, quit it! you’re gross and full of egg and beef … ”  he yells out, in-between bouts of laughter. the look on katsuki’s face is intense — kacchan never does anything by half measure, after all – but it doesn’t intimidate izuku or frighten him. if anything, the way katsuki wants to win even something as silly (silly!!!! they’re doing silly things together…him and kacchan….!!!!) as a food fight with the same intensity as a real fight but none of the anger … izuku’s laughter slowly putters out the longer he thinks on that realization, until his cheeks are red not only from exertion and he opens his mouth to say something ——— when the bag of flour on the counter topples over, dropping its contents atop them both.

 “puh, ”  he coughs out, watching a cloud of flour float away from him at the force of his breath, misting towards katsuki. who is also covered in a thick layer of flour, of which a small mountain sits atop his head and slowly trickles down like sand. izuku blinks, maintaining eye contact for a long moment before his lips tremble. his shoulders begin to tremble in time, before izuku is letting out quiet sounds of laughter. here they are, sitting on the floor, covered in egg, flour and beef and they’re gross and dirty and izuku wants nothing more than to clean up and it’s the most harmless fun he’s had in a long time. 

Izuku’s laughter makes his stomach do a weird swirl-type thing, and he doesn’t want to think too hard on it so he shoves his face harder against the other - making it less comfortable, more painful, shoving him backwards as he does (and he almost bites his face, too, but he stops just before actually doing it because - for some reason - that seems fucking awkward, and it’s another thing he doesn’t want to think too hard about sp just shut up -). Hands on Izuku’s shirt move upwards, to the cloth at his shoulders, pulling it up a little bit as they both move and stumble together.

– - Quite literally. 

The way they fall together is clumsy. There’s no grace to it; just a mixture of elbows against limbs and his nose hits Izuku’s jaw in a way that makes his eyes tear up and he lets out a yelp (and that’s just fucking great, isn’t it, he’s gonna look like a fucking crybaby), fingers clutching tighter around Izuku’s shirt from the surprise of the fall. 

And the worst part of it all is Izuku won’t stop laughing.

He pulls himself back up, practically straddling the other boy but he doesn’t think about it (doesn’t thinkaboutitdoesn’tthinkaboutitsoshutthefuckup– -), opening his mouth to yell something back, bark at the other for being so fucking stupid (even though his eyes are teary because he hit his nose), meat still on his face, egg still tracing the sides of his cheeks, down to his jaw and neck, and there’s still the yolk bits on his hair, too, some dripping down from his strands but still goo-y enough to stay attached to it and it’s all a disgusting mess.

“WHAT’RE YA LAUGHIN’ ABOUT, YA LI—”

– - There’s a large puff of flour that stops him from finishing that sentence, and his eyes shut close almost instantly with the feel of something else falling on top of them. For a moment, he finds himself leaning back down, closer to Izuku, but he realizes how close they are (- and the cough of flour that leaves Deku’s lips nearly hits his face and that makes him understand just how close they are, how close they have been this entire time and his heart is thumbing a bit too loud for his liking), and he pushes himself back up, keeping Izuku pinned to the ground while sitting atop of him. 

(his cheeks feel hot, too fucking hot, what the fuck)

He shakes his head, a lousy attempt to get some of the flour off of him (butmostlyjustnotlookingatIzukuforamoment), keeping his head facing a direction that isn’t Izuku’s face, and he’s quiet for a moment too long before he’s too annoyed with just how quiet he is-- -

“ that wasn’t very nice, kacchan. ”  izuku grumbles, wearing his spaghetti hat with resignation and no small amount of pout. he can already tell he’s going to be finding bits and pieces of dried spaghetti and sauce to pick out of his hair later tonight … at least they’re in casual clothing and not their school uniform — that would have been incredibly embarrassing to explain to the rest of their class. 

not that it matters much, he thinks to himself, when he gets a taste of his own medicine and he’s found blinking away ground beef that’s now stuck to his face. his hands come up to wipe it away, shaking the meat off them to the side before settling them behind his back.

“ ……. maybe. ”  he replies, with a sneaky smile of his own despite the chunks of ground beef sliding down his face and dropping down onto the floor with a disgusting and heavy sounding ‘plop’. he keeps his hands behind his back as he smiles still before, with every ounce of speed he can manage, throwing his arm out and cracking the egg he’d grabbed off of the counter behind him — on top katsuki’s head. izuku’s mouth wobbles with the force of the laugh he tries to hold back, cheeks aching as he does.   “ i guess that’s egg-xactly what i’m trying to do. ”  a pause, and then (only ¾ jesting) —  “ i wonder if you could fry an egg like that … ? ”

“What’re ya smilin’ a--- -”

He freezes in place when the cracking sound is heard, and even moreso when the gooey, cold feeling of the egg begins to make itself present on the very top of his head, and the slimey egg white begins to slide between his hair strands, some of it dripping onto his forehead and nose, and the coldness of it all gives him chills (and they’re visible, too, if Izuku looks at Katsuki’s arms, the way his hairs stand there). He’s left there, just blinking and staring at Izuku in complete and utter awe. 

... At least for a couple of seconds. 

“WHY YA LI’L-- -” 

Without much of a warning, both of his hand make it into Izuku’s shirt, and he pulls him towards his own body while also pushing himself forward, slouching his head forward quickly to literally shove his head against the other boy’s chest/neck area (shove against, headbutt, it’s all the same with Katsuki, really), rubbing every ounce of his hair against Izuku; he’s not being cautious, not trying to be gentle, he knows what Izuku can handle, and he continues to furiously rub his hair against his neck, moving up to his cheek and forcing whatever’s left of the egg in his hair against his face. 

“YA WANNA GO?