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dealing with friends like these

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 KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Someone’s pounding at the door.

It slowly sinks into Izuku’s tired, sluggish brain, and a distant part of him points out very matter-of-factly that he should probably get up and see what’s going on.

But the warm, solid presence on bed next to him, the strong arm wrapped around his waist suggests that he’s doing no such thing, and if Izuku’s being completely honest, he doesn’t really care for his own plan. Like, at all.

KNOCK KNOCK

Apparently Fate does not agree with his plan to stay in bed.  

     “Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs and pokes at his partner. “Kacchan, someone’s at the door.”

Katsuki grunts and unconsciously pulls Izuku closer. “They c’n fuck off...”

     “What if it’s something urgent?” Izuku asks mildly, running his fingers through Katsuki’s hair.

     “It’s - “ Katsuki lifts his head to glare at their digital alarm clock, and Izuku can pin-point the exact second when Katsuki decides that ‘fuck this’, “ - look at this, it’s seven in the morning. Seven. On a Saturday. No, if it’s something urgent, we wouldn’t be their first choice.” 

Izuku laughs and presses a kiss on Katsuki’s hair.

     “You can sleep, I’m gonna go check if they need help.”

For a split second, Katsuki tightens his hold around Izuku’s waist, but then he grumbles: “Too nice for your own damn good, you nerd. You need to rest, too, you know, and don’t bullshit me on that.”

     “I wouldn’t,” Izuku says tenderly. “I’ll be back.”

     “Put them through the wall if they start murderin’ you.”

     “Oh, what, so they’re murdering me now?” 

     “Big surprise. And they like to  think they’re fuckin’ unpredictable.”

     “Right, right. A sneak attack in our own home, we haven’t had those yet.”

     “Go knock ‘em dead,” Katsuki grunts against the pillow, but reaches to ruffle Izuku’s hair just the way Izuku loves; roughly, his calloused fingers massaging his scalp just a bit, just how he wants to melt into the touch and never leave their bed.

     “Mmh... not long, okay?”

     “Hnn.”

Izuku gets up and catches Katsuki’s red eyes, still open, and he knows Katsuki won’t fall asleep yet - not until they know what’s going on. Warmth swells in Izuku’s chest; he can’t decide if it’s adorable or not how protective Katsuki gets about the weirdest things, but Izuku doesn’t mind.

He loves Katsuki, with all his brilliant qualities and his vices.

(he has, for so long.)

Izuku pads over to the front door and peeks through the crack. “Good morning?”

As soon as he’s finished saying that, the door slams wide open, and Kaminari drapes himself over Izuku - and it takes Izuku a stunned moment to realize that Kaminari is crying.

Panicked, Izuku holds him. “K - Kaminari? What’s wrong? Hey, are you okay? What happened?”

     “I messed everything up,” Kaminari gasps, looking pale and terrified as tears stream down his face. “Midoriya, I fucked everything up, E - Eijirou probably hates me now and it’s all my fault anyway, I was so dumb - “

     “No, no, he wouldn’t, what happened - ?”

     “Drooly.”

Startled, Kaminari gapes at Katsuki, who stomps from the bedroom, dark thunder gathering on his features, and of course, his hands are already smoking.

     “Kacchan,” Izuku says hastily and wraps his arms tightly around Kaminari, who starts to whimper against his shoulder, not even bothered by Katsuki. Apparently his agony over whatever’s happened overrides his fear of Katsuki’s wrath.

Katsuki scowls. “Start talking, what the hell’s up with the kicked puppy look?”

Kaminari’s eyes fill with tears again, and he lets out an anguished sound. “I - I messed up,” he whispers, anxious and distressed. “I messed up so bad, E - Eijirou hates me now - “

     “Weird Hair doesn’t hate anyone, you should know that by now,” Katsuki points out. “What the fuck happened?”

Kaminari swallows and hesitates. “I - um, I told Eijirou h - how I felt.”

     “Oh! You confessed?” Izuku asks, pleasantly surprised, because in his honest opinion it’s been long time coming. “That’s amazing, Kaminari!”

     “No, it’s not!” Kaminari shakes his head viciously and then buries his face into his hands. “He - he doesn’t feel the same, he doesn’t, and I messed up our friendship and he won’t talk to me anymore, he hates me, why did I confess, it’s so stupid - “

Katsuki and Izuku exchange a glance over Kaminari’s head.

     “What did he say?” Izuku asks carefully. “Did he say... those things?”

     “N - no, but - he doesn’t feel the same!” 

     “Yeah, but did he say that?” Katsuki demands, now getting impatient with this.

Kaminari whimpers again. “He was so quiet. I - I’ve never heard him be that quiet, and he - he couldn’t even look me in the eyes. S - so I left.”

     “Oh, Kaminari...”

     “You left?” Katsuki demands, his eyes narrowed into red slits. “Look, you loser, no one ever fucking expects a goddamn confession - my guess is that the Weird Hair was so fucking floored that he couldn’t open his dumb mouth. What a time to do that, either, goddamn.” 

Izuku raises an eyebrow at him, but Katsuki glares at him - a grumpy warning.

     “So he’ll come around. So calm the hell down already,” he grunts gruffly. “’s gonna be fine, Pikachu.”

Sniffling Kaminari lifts his head. “Y - you think?”

     “’Course. There’s no way that jackass hates you. Haven’t listened to his bitching and pining for goddamn how long for nothin’,” Katsuki mutters, but Izuku is pretty sure Kaminari doesn’t catch that last part. “But if he does, I’m kicking his ass.”

Kaminari’s eyes start shining. “No, you don’t have t - “ Suddenly he frowns. “You’d do that - for me?”

Maybe it’s the way Kaminari sounds; vulnerable and uncertain, but Katsuki just rolls his eyes.

     “Yeah, yeah, for wasting my goddamn time, for instance.”

Kaminari smiles, and it’s wobbly. “Thank you, Bakugou. You’re awesome.”

     “Tch, ‘course I am, I’m the best.”

That’s when Izuku drags them both to kitchen, and they proceed to make breakfast. Kaminari is not much use there, anyway, so instead he sits down and just watches these two cook together. It holds cozy kind of domesticity, serenity.

     “Thanks, by the way,” Kaminari says quietly after a while. “For - for being there for me, I guess. I freaked out.”

Izuku beams. “It’s okay! We’re glad to help. Oh, Kacchan, the eggs have been boiling for seven minutes now - “

     “I got it. Plus what the hell were you doin’ confessing at seven a.m anyway? Just couldn’t wait for more reasonable time?”

     “Oh!” Kaminari flushes bright crimson, twitching on the chair. “I - um, crashed at Eijirou’s. We played games and dozed off on the couch...and... after waking up there, with him... I - I confessed.”

Katsuki snorts, but it’s not unkind. “Figures.”

     “Hey, I didn’t plan it!” Kaminari defends himself indignantly. “He was so good to me, so sweet, and I couldn’t believe that this guy is my friend and wants to be there for me. So I made a mistake!”

     “It wasn’t a mistake,” Izuku says gently. “It’s scary, confessing. Wanting to confess. And it’s like, taking a leap. What if I’m wrong? What if he’ll hate me? What if I’ll break everything we’ve reached together thus far? I get it, Kaminari.”

Katsuki scowls. “Oi, you never told me that.”

     “Because it worked out in the end for us,” Izuku responds, amused. “You felt the same. But I get where Kaminari is coming from, it was scary, not knowing.”

     “Also you confessed in the middle of a fucking battle field, so your timing was way off, too,” Katsuki grumbles, nudging Izuku.

     “Oh, yeah, that’s true. Maybe I should’ve waited for a late-night gaming session, as well.”

     “Would’ve wrecked your ass, Deku.”

     “And maybe I would’ve liked it.”

     “Yeah, you would’ve.”

     “Or maybe I would’ve wrecked yours.”

     “Yeah?”

Kaminari chokes behind them. “I’ll never get used to this,” he mutters.

     “Tough shit, you’re in our house, deal with it. But what the nerd said, I sure as fuck didn’t expect it. Didn’t even get a chance to say anything when that Villain interrupted it all.”

     “Who was it again? Wasn’t it - wait, Clog Head?” Izuku asks while he starts slicing an apple.

     “Nah, the one with all the useless spine shit all over him. Ridge Neck.”

     “Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

     “Hold the fuck up, why don’t you remember who the hell it was? His ugly mug’s hard to forget.”   

     “Oh, you’re asking me why, Kacchan? I was super embarrassed! I wasn’t focusing on anything else than getting out of there as fast as I could!”

     “Yeah, you still leapt right at him, like way to give me a goddamn heart attack on top of everything else.”

     “Well, you still didn’t say anything. So there.”

     “...yeah, yeah. That’s my bad, sure.”

Right now, they glance at each other, and it’s one of those things that they do; like totally silent, private conversation without words, like they are communicating with their eyes only. To Kaminari it’s so strange, but in the same time, it looks so sweet. Gentle.

But still!

Kaminari sighs in exasperation. Good lord, these two, he can’t believe them. It still boggles his mind that they’ve ended up together, but watching them and listening to their weird conversations, it’s no wonder, to be honest.   

     “Coffee, Kaminari?”

     “Don’t pamper him, the weirdo can do it himself.”

     “Thanks, Midoriya, that sounds amazing!”

     “Hey, shithead, stop ignoring me! Do it yourself, what the hell’s wrong with you, take some fucking initiative.”

Kaminari contemplates whether or not he should continue annoying Katsuki, but decides not to (he likes being alive, really) and pours himself a cup. Their coffee is really good as always, rich and dark. Well, then again, whatever has he expected in their kitchen.

 Slowly he starts to calm down and relax.

Of course, consequences catch up to him sooner or later. In Kaminari’s case, it happens ten minutes later, because no Fate wants to be kind to his broken heart.

They’re in the middle of eating when Kaminari’s phone buzzes on the table. They all look up.

RIOT flashes on the screen, and suddenly Kaminari can’t breathe. His hands start to tremble.

     “I think you should pick it up,” Izuku says carefully. “He’s probably worried about you.”

Kaminari can’t move. He just stares at Eijirou’s name, his heart pounding violently in his chest.

     “What if he hates me?” he asks with small voice. “What if this is it?”

     “Then you own it and deal with it head on,” is Katsuki’s very wise, very blunt advice. “Ain’t much else you can do about it.”

     “And he doesn’t hate you,” Izuku adds firmly. “Hand me the milk, Kacchan, please? Thank you. I... don’t think you have a lot to worry about, Kaminari. It’ll be all right.”

     “But how can you know?” Kaminari wails, now panicking again.

     “Because Kirishima is a very reasonable and everyone can see how much you mea - wait, Kacchan, no!”

Katsuki apparently doesn’t give a shit about semantics at this point; he grabs Kaminari’s phone and says: “Yo, asshole.”

A pause.

     “Yeah, he’s fucking here, are you gonna do something about that?”

Izuku shakes his head, but continues eating. Kaminari tries to find comfort in that. Then, Katsuki throws the phone back at him.

     “There. Now go hash this shit out.”

Kaminari hesitates, but after a beat, he obeys, raises the phone to his ear and excuses himself.

Katsuki grumbles: “Can’t believe this, at fucking seven in the morning and we gotta deal with this useless heart to heart pining bullshit.” 

Izuku smiles. “If it helps them, I’m okay with it.”

     “Okay, huh?”

     “Oh, come on, maybe they’ll finally - um - “

     “Get their shit together?”

     “That’s not - okay, that’s what I’m definitely hoping for, sure... what do you think?”

     “I think we should be gettin’ paid for this. No way should we do this for fuckin’ free on our day off.” 

They hear Kaminari pacing nervously in the living room and talking here and there, just bits and pieces.

Katsuki nudges Izuku again. “So, what’s with the confessing thing, huh? Scary?”  

     “It wasn’t easy, no,” Izuku nods calmly and gazes at him. His forest green eyes are so bright in the golden morning light. “But... I’m very happy how it turned out.”

Katsuki’s throat twitches, and suddenly he has trouble swallowing. “Yeah?”  

     “Mmh-hmm. You were so mad.”

Izuku grins fondly at the memory.

     “Well, what the fuck do you want from me, you left me there to gawk and to wonder what the hell just happened and then you launched yourself at the villain. And then  - yeah, you remember that shit, no way I’ve forgotten that - then you got all fucked up, like that ain’t nerve wracking in itself.”

     “...oh, yeah, that too. But I defeated him, though, doesn’t that count for something?”

     “We keepin’ score now?”

Izuku smiles - it’s soft, reminiscing, gentle. “Maybe? Isn’t that what we do?” he teases him, and  Katsuki’s mouth goes dry.

It’s these simple, intimate moments that are so precious, to incredibly important to them, and seeing Izuku like this; relaxed, soft, in his stupid All Might pyjama shorts and in Katsuki’s t-shirt, nibbling on an apple slice and being happy.

It... it means everything.   

     “I’m glad we got here, Kacchan.”

Katsuki nods gruffly, flustered. “...yeah. Me, too.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Izuku says: “I’ll get it.”

Katsuki says: “Next nosy bastard gets thrown out ass first.”   

And Kaminari is very, very quiet.

(they’re both idly wondering if he’s made his escape through the window. Katsuki mutters: “I’ll fucking explode that twerp’s ass if he’s bolted.” “Be nice.”)

But no, Kaminari is still there, frozen, his eyes so wide with utter fear as he clutches his phone against his chest like a life line. Katsuki scoffs and slams him on the back.

     “Straighten up!”

Izuku opens the door and is greeted by Kirishima; Kirishima who has apparently ran the whole way here, he’s breathing with harsh gasps, and his red eyes are wild, frantic.

     “He’s still here, right?” he almost shouts at Izuku’s face. “Please tell me he is, my battery died and I didn’t get to finish what I was sayin’, holy shit tell me he’s here - “

     “Um, yeah? He’s here. And good morning, Kirishima!”

     “Oh! Sorry, bro, for ruining your morning, but - I need to fix this, right now. Uh, hey, Bakugou!”

Katsuki’s appeared behind Izuku and he narrows his eyes at Kirishima over Izuku’s head.

     “You gonna be helpful for a damn change?”  

Kirishima stills. “Totally. I - I am, I will, I swear.” He bows his head. “Please let me see him?”

     “Kacchan...” Izuku grabs him and moves him so Kirishima gets past them to their living room.

Kaminari freezes, and he looks so pale, so nervous. “Eijirou...please, if - if I could just explain - “

     “Are you okay?” Kirishima asks, and his expression is absolutely desperate.

Kaminari blinks. “O - of course,” he murmurs, wringing his hands anxiously, not knowing what else to do. “I mean, I’m good! Totally, so if we could just maybe forget what I said, that’d be super great!”

     “I don’t wanna forget. Did you - did you mean it?” Kirishima asks nervously.

     “Of course I meant it!” Kaminari huffs, now getting indignant despite everything else. “That’s what makes this so awful! I mean it, so much, and you - you don’t feel the same.”

     “I didn’t say that!” Kirishima looks horrified. “I never said that! I - I was shocked, just completely floored, dude, I didn’t ever think you would in a million years feel the same.”

Silence.

(Katsuki and Izuku are not even pretending that they’re not listening to this.)

(“Do you want an apple slice?” “...thanks.”)

     “The - the same?” Kaminari squeaks.

Kirishima smiles gently.

     “Hell yeah the same, Denki. Like, how could I not? You’re so amazing, so funny, so kind, so ready to help others and you’re so optimistic when the world tries hard to push you away, you just get up, even though you’re scared, you still do it! You are so, so important, Denki, and I’m so sorry I left you hanging like that. I know I hurt you. And I’m so sorry. But... I have to fix it now. So... I - I love you, too, man.”

Kaminari gawks. “I - huh?”

(“I’m throwing those losers out,” Katsuki mutters in the kitchen, but Izuku elbows him.)

     “I love you, Denki.”

Kaminari doesn’t even breathe. “For - for real?”

Kirishima grins, his eyes crinkled with playful amusement. “For real. You’re the light of my life, man. You were so brave, Denki...”

     “I ran,” Kaminari points out, a little hysterically. “You really love me?”

     “I do. I have, for a long time now. Like, so long it’s really embarrassing. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner...”

     “N - no, no, it’s okay! It’s okay - wow, I - is this real?”

Kirishima steps closer and cradles Kaminari’s cheek so tenderly. “Yeah. Hundred percent real.”

     “Kiss me? Please, I think I’m dying, and I really, really want you to kiss me.”

(“I’m gonna throw up.” “Kacchan. It’s a beautiful moment, stop ruining it!” “They are both so lame. Why the fuck are they doing this in our living room.”)

Meanwhile Kirishima and Kaminari get to it, but after two minutes of deepening kisses and hungry sounds and hands wandering under shirts to finally feel warm skin, Katsuki decides that’s waaaay enough.

     “Oi, you bastards! Do that shit on your own time at your own place for fuck’s sake! Out!”

     “Sorry, Bakugou!”

     “And thanks for the breakfast, that was really cool of you guys! See you at Mina’s later!”

     “Bye!”  

     “OUT!”

Kirishima and Kaminari leave, holding hands, and it’s so disgustingly sweet. Fuming, Katsuki returns to the kitchen, where Izuku is putting the plates into the dishwasher. He beams at Katsuki, his smile absolutely shining.

     “That went really well, right? And it’s not even eight yet,” he teases with good-natured humour.

And suddenly Katsuki is overwhelmed with gratitude, fierce love and affection and devotion he has for this infuriating, amazing person, who has seen him on his best and on his worst, and he’s still chosen Katsuki, despite it all.

This person who is his partner, in every meaning of the word.  

     “Get over here, nerd.”

Izuku comes to him easily and Katsuki pulls him closer, resting his hands on Izuku’s waist, his touch familiar and hot. He leans in to nuzzle affectionately Izuku’s cheek up to his temple, and Izuku melts into it with a content sigh.

     “We did a good thing, Kacchan,” he murmurs and reaches to tug a strand of Katsuki’s hair gently.

     “Those dumbasses still coulda picked a better time, sheesh.”   

     “Mmh, maybe? But I mean, this is good, too. For them and for us. We have a whole day now.”

Katsuki hears that, that familiar tone in Izuku’s voice, breathless and fluttering, gently teasing, and instantly he knows what it means.

His eyes darken, a smirk curling on his lips, lazy and charmed. “Oh, yeah? Wanna share?”

Izuku, who in no way misses what that means, squeaks.

     “Kacchan!”

     “Nah, I know that look, you dork, c’mon, what’s going on in that big brain of yours? You’re not fooling anyone, Deku,” Katsuki purrs, his voice low, rough, his grin widening. 

Izuku glares and purses his mouth together, but his cheeks turn into a lovely cherry shade that reaches his neck. Bingo. Busted. Meeting Katsuki’s gaze, he looks away, flustered, bites his lip and puffs his cheeks full in a way that Katsuki knows so well.  

     “Okay, Kacchan, that’s it, you’re awful and you’re on. Bedroom, now.”

     “Haah? That a challenge? ‘Cause if it is, prepare yourself!”

     “Bring it, Kacchan!” Izuku beams and races to the bedroom, howling with laughter as Katsuki follows him, hot on his heels.

(they don’t leave the bedroom for hours. it’s wrestling, silly grins, rolling on the bed, playfully tackling each other on the mattress and then, their kissing turns open-mouthed and hungry and messy.)

(they don’t have any plans for that day.)

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