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You Won’t Let Me Fall, Right?

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The screams of children, out-of-control machines and flashing lights are overloading Katsuki's senses. Each direction he turns, a fresh horror awaits. 

He knew letting the idiots drag him to the carnival was an awful idea.

Speaking of, the gang had led him to an unoccupied bench. Miraculous really, considering how crowded it was in this hellscape. Ashido, Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero sit and begin shoving their assortment of grease-soaked, sugar-sprinkled, vomit-inducing carnival foods into their mouths. Between all of them, they pretty much have a sample of every snack in this joint. Greedy fuckers. Corn dogs, churros, pretzels, chocolate-coated fruits ... you name it, and it was squished onto their little bench. 

Katsuki slumps down next to Kirishima, glaring at his own plate of muck: fries coated in a bubbling yellow liquid. The vendor had called it cheesy fries. Katsuki didn't know what the oozing substance was, but it sure as hell wasn't cheese. 

"Blasty, you gonna eat that or what?" Ashido mumbles through her cotton candy-stuffed mouth. He shoves the plate towards her. She tucks in, apparently not minding the candy and not-cheese combination.

Kaminari twirls his own cotton candy stick around haphazardly, "Did you know that they call this 'fairy floss' in Australia?" He swings the cotton candy a bit more, making it mimic a wand in action.

"That's so cute!" Ashido squeals.

Kaminari grins, "Right?! It does kinda look fairy-ish."

"It’s not the only thing that looks like a fucking fairy," Katsuki deadpans. Kaminari's mouth pops open comically, blinking dumbly at Katsuki. Kirishima and Ashido try to smother giggles in their hands, and Sero reaches across Kirishima's back to swat Katsuki on the shoulder.

Kirishima shows Kaminari some mercy, "A very handsome fairy, man."

“Yeah!” Kaminari recovers, “a very handsome, beautiful fairy.” He waves his makeshift wand around a bit more.

They carry on in much the same manner while they devour the rest of the food. Katsuki does his best to tune out their rambles, and for the most part, he succeeds. He focuses instead on eating some fries; potatoes were technically vegetables right? Unfortunately, the idiot brigade was loud, and Katsuki couldn’t help but hear them sometimes.

“… and that’s why Sero would be the only one of us to survive the zombie apocalypse.” Mino says, crossing her arms in front of her and nodding proudly.

“What?” Katsuki yells, “I’d kill any fucking zombie that tried me.”

“No way! You’d definitely get bitten trying to take on too many at once.”

“That’s complete bullshit.”

They dissolve into a mini argument. When it becomes clear that he’s outnumbered, Katsuki sits back and sneers. He’d dominate in a zombie apocalypse; fuck anyone who thought otherwise.

“Don’t sulk bro,” Kirishima laughs, “Let’s go on the Tagada next and watch Kami throw up all that fairy floss.”

Now that was an idea that Katsuki could get behind. Kaminari, on the other hand, pales at the suggestion, “Babe … you’ve betrayed me.”

“Bros before hoes,” Kirishima shrugs, but his eyes are soft when he smiles at his boyfriend.

 

~~~

 

The Tagada was one of the fair’s main attractions. It was basically a massive bowl only the brave dared enter. On the rim of the bowl was a plush seat, where people could sit and hold onto the railings that encased the entire thing. The riders were shaken and spun by a merciless operator. Riders had to rely on their own strength, as the attraction didn’t come with any belts or harnesses. Participants were required to hold onto a bar that surrounds the edge of the bowl. Sometimes the operator was particularly ruthless, and people were thrown into the bowl’s floor where they’d be helpless to the Tagada’s tosses and turns. Every time they rode, Katsuki got to watch his friends and other random extras get tossed to the floor, or flail ridiculously in their seats.

It was glorious.

By the time the squad reaches the ride, Katsuki is practically bouncing with excitement. In just mere minutes, he was going to witness one of his idiots humiliate themselves. And to Katsuki, there was no greater joy in life.

The buzzer rings and the gate opens. Katsuki leads them onto the far side of the bowl and sits down. Kirishimi plants himself beside him, then Kaminari, then Sero and Ashido. There aren’t many people lined up to ride, and Katsuki is grateful for it. More room for carnage.

About six other extras nervously walk onto the ride and take seats along the railing. Katsuki watches as they reach around the railing, trying to get a good grip on the bars.

The last rider enters. It’s a boy, probably around their age, green curls bouncing in time with each step he takes. It seems like he’s alone. Rookie error, Katsuki thinks. The boy is looking around, trying to decide where to sit, when his eyes meet Katsuki’s.

Katsuki is struck. He briefly wonders whether Kirishima has slapped him, but a quick glance in the red-head’s direction disproves this theory. Kaminari is shaking nervously, and Kirishima is trying to calm him. Katsuki looks back to the boy, whose eyes are still on him. Another tremor runs up Katsuki’s spine. The loner has pine green eyes. Eyes that make Katsuki feel like he’s lost in a lush forest and, quite frankly, he doesn’t really care about finding his way out.

The boy starts making his way towards them, and Katsuki is so transfixed by those green eyes that he forgets to tell the boy to fuck off. The closer he gets, the more Katsuki is able to observe. The guy has freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose and splattered across his cheeks. His orange sweater is slightly lopsided, and Katsuki spies some more freckles splashed across his collarbone. He’s paired the bright sweater with some ripped jeans and some bright red combat boots. Katsuki should find the whole get-up ridiculous, but as his eyes sweep over the figure, his heart beats a little faster than normal.

The boy plunks down on the other side of Katsuki and gives him a nervous smile. His hands are wringing the hem of his sweater.

“You look like you’re pretty strong,” Green-eyes says, tilting his head slightly, “You won’t let me fall, right?”

His brain screeches to a halt. Whhhhaat the fuck. Katsuki, for perhaps the first time in his life, is rendered speechless. This guy’s nervous demeanor is absolutely not matching up with his bold words.

Kirishima overhears and is snickering gleefully from the other side of him. It draws the rest of the idiots’ attention.

Ashido assesses the situation quickly and giggles, “Sweetie, I’m sorry but he’s not really the chivalrous type.” Sero and Kaminari nod emphatically.

Katsuki glares at them. Why did were they making him look bad in front of Freckles? And more importantly, why did he care? Whatever. He could be fucking chivalrous if he damn well wanted to.

“Dude, if you think you’ll need hope hanging on, I can try to help.” Kirishima grins, patting the seat between him and Katsuki. It pisses Katsuki off knowing there's no ulterior motive behind the offer; Kirishima was just nice like that. Freckles looks disheartened, but makes a move to switch seats. Shitty Kirishima.

“You can all fuck off; I can protect him just fine.” Katsuki snaps, throwing one of his arms onto the railing behind the boy’s head. His friends raise their eyebrows, but don’t say anything else. Greenie smiles a little and sits back down.

“Who are you anyway?” Katsuki growls.

“Oh! I-Izuku!”

This guy … First he was pulling lines straight from the playboy’s handbook, and now he’s stuttering. Katsuki blames his flip-flopping stomach on the guy’s inconsistent personality. That was it. It was just confusion, and nothing to do with how the freckles painted across Izuku’s face looked like they could form constellations.

Izuku is peering up at him expectantly from under a forest of lashes. “And you are?” he eventually prompts.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” he smirks, rolling his shoulders back and tilting his chin upwards. His arm is still stretched behind Izuku’s head, and so he flexes slightly. Izuku’s eyes dart towards his bicep, and Katsuki’s smirk widens. That’s it, he thinks to himself, play it cool, Katsuki. He wants to say something else, maybe he could get the little nerd to blush, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“HEEEEYYY RIDERS!” comes the belting voice of operator, “HOPE YOU’RE READY FOR THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE.”

And without any further introduction, the machine springs to life underneath them. It starts with a sharp jerk to the left, and Izuku immediately topples towards Katsuki with a small yelp. He grabs ahold of Katsuki’s shoulders to steady himself, but lands practically chest-to-chest with Katsuki anyway. Katsuki hates how he notices how large Izuku’s hands are, and how he can feel his body heating up under Izuku’s touch. Deflect Katsuki, deflect! 

“God, you really are useless aren’t you?” He hopes his face isn’t betraying his quickening heartbeat. “Should call you Deku instead.”

“Huh?” Izuku shoots him a confused look as the machine bounces again. This time it jerks the opposite direction and Izuku is thrown backwards. Katsuki tilts forward quickly to grab him, but Izuku is already steadying himself on the railing.

Deku, you know? 木偶の坊? Good-for-nothing.”

For a brief second, Katsuki worries that he’s pushed a bit far. But then Tagada tilts dramatically. The lurch makes Izuku and Katsuki both swing forward, and only their grips on the railing keep them connected to the seat. Distantly, Katsuki sees Ashido rolling across the bowl’s floor, but his attention remains with Izuku.

Once he’s successfully repositioned himself, Izuku looks up at Katsuki. In his eyes lie a challenge. Katsuki feels himself gulp.

“You can call me whatever you want, Kacchan,” Izuku leers, “as long as you’re calling.”

And that is a little bit too much for Katsuki. This delectable little twerp comes out of fucking nowhere, both flirtatious and flustered, practically mounts him and now he’d gone and given him a cute gross nickname. Katsuki’s brain short circuits.

So, it should come as no great surprise that when the ride tilts forward again, Katsuki’s grip isn’t nearly as ironclad as it should be. He feels himself slip forward, and he knows that he’s about to make fucking fool of himself, in front of the idiots, in front of Deku.

But then an arm shoots out in front of his torso and shoves him hard back into the seat. Katsuki grabs the railing again and stares down at Izuku’s arm, clamped over his stomach like a seat belt. How the hell the little nerd has the strength in his arm to stop the momentum of his fall, Katsuki is not fucking sure. He is sure, however, that the shit-eating grin on the other boy’s face is easily the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I wonder if I’m really the useless one here, Kacchan” Deku says, green eyes alight with mirth.

Katsuki can think of nothing impressive to say, so instead he opts for, “You cheeky little shit.”

Izuku laughs, as the ride starts whipping in a fast rhythm to the left again. It pushes Izuku straight back into Katsuki’s side. The smaller boy is tucked under his arm, one arm braced on Katsuki’s shoulder, the other still gripping the rail for dear life, and he is laughing.

Katsuki feels like he is dangerously close to a stroke of some kind, for the laughter sounds like a tinkling bell, a siren's call, a fucking ballad of joy and light and warmth. Katsuki clutches the railing and just stares down at the boy. Izuku is still laughing, the sporadic bumps of the ride making the delightful sound jolt and pause. The Tagada suddenly lurches back to the right, and for a second it looks like Izuku will be thrown away from Katsuki, but then the machine goes left again and Izuku is tossed even further in Katsuki’s lap. His arm falls from Katsuki’s shoulder, clenching instead around his waist.

The ride finally comes to a stuttering halt.

“A bit handsy, Deku,” he says, as Izuku pulls himself up off Katsuki’s chest. He’s very proud of his little quip, and it shows on his face.

Izuku pointedly ignores the remark, “That was fun!”

Izuku rises from the seat, stretching his arms over his head. Katsuki physically forces his eyes to not stray to the sliver of skin that appears from under his sweater. He looks instead to the boy’s face, and finds much of the same trouble he was trying to avoid. Izuku’s green curls are more tousled, and Katsuki wonders what they’d feel like between his fingers. There’s a pretty blush glowing from under those freckles, and Katsuki is sure he’s wearing a matching colour on his own face too.

Izuku extends his palm out towards Katsuki, offering him a hand up off the seat. He reaches out to take it, but the speakers blare to life once more.

“HOW’D YOU LIKE THAT WARM UP, RIDERS?” the operator shouted.

Izuku’s head whips around at the voice, before coming back to meet Katsuki’s eyes again, “Warm up?”

The ride tilts forward again, and Izuku stumbles backwards, arm still outstretched towards Katsuki. At that moment, there are no thoughts; Katsuki’s body simply moves on its own. One hand still firmly clung to the rail, Katsuki stands and snatches Izuku around his waist. He tries to use the ride’s momentum to swing them both back into their seats. Unfortunately, the operator seems to be a sadist, and the Tagada jerks again. Katsuki’s hand is ripped from the railing and the pair go hurtling across the bowl. They are still wrapped together, and their bodies awkwardly bump against each other as the ride swings ruthlessly about.

Izuku is the first to gather his bearings, and somehow manages to grab the edge’s cushioning. It’s definitely not their original seats, but that hardly matters. Izuku pulls himself up, and hauls Katsuki up with him.

Katsuki takes a half second to wonder why this tiny little cherub has the strength of a fucking power-lifter.

“Where you hiding all that muscle, freckles?” he chokes out, having finally got a good grip on the rail again.

Izuku laughs again, and Katsuki decides right there that he’d happily chase that sound to the end of the Earth.

“Freckles? These nicknames are giving me worse whiplash than the ride.”

Katsuki opens his mouth, intent on christening Izuku with another (less sweet) nickname, when the ride throws itself into another ludicrously sharp angle. Izuku staggers off the seat again.

“Oh no you don’t,” Katsuki barks, flinging his arm out and seizing Izuku around the wrist. He yanks hard, and Izuku topples back into him.

The ride was going into overdrive. Izuku pulls his legs up onto the seat and curls into Katsuki. The blonde follows suit. Squished into a kind of seated-spooning position, both Katsuki and Izuku hook their outer arms onto the railing. Katsuki uses his other arm to hold Izuku around his middle, squeezing the green-haired boy close against him. Izuku’s free arm is hanging on to Katsuki’s. Katsuki squeezes his thighs tightly around Izuku's side, trying to keep the smaller boy in place.

The Tagada jerks and tilts and lurches, but the duo has a good set up now, and neither are keen to repeat their tussle with the floor.

“I don’t remember it being this fucking buck wild last year,” Katsuki grumbles, his breath tickling Izuku’s ear. Then the ride swings in yet another unexpected direction (which really, they should have expected), and Katsuki lets out a high-pitched squeal.

The sound lasts half a second, if that. But it’s enough. Izuku cackles. He leans his head back against Katsuki’s shoulder and fucking loses it. His grip on the ride and on Katsuki remain steady, but the guy is laughing like he’s being tickled by the devil. Izuku’s eyes are squinted closed and Katsuki is able to privately stare at the awe-inspiring sight.

For the rest of his days, Katsuki will claim that the Tagada had knocked something loose in his brain, because suddenly, he is laughing too.

That’s how they spent the rest of the ride. Curled around each other and giggling like fucking school girls. Their laughter is accented by small screeches whenever the ride flings them in a particularly harsh manner, but those screams just set them off again, cackling anew.

By the time the ride finally slows to a stop, the two are gasping for air in between laughs. Izuku has happy tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh god,” Izuku whispers, still out of breath. “That was …” His voice trails off as he turns his head, finding Katsuki’s fiery gaze already on him.

Katsuki is still huddled around Izuku, and their faces are mere inches from one another. All it would take was a small tilt of chins, and their noses would brush.

“Kacchan … this was … you’re …” Izuku stumbles over his words.

“Nerd,” Katsuki grins, unhooking his arm from the railing and using his newly freed hand to ruffle Izuku’s curls. They’re even softer than they look.

“Kacchan! You let me fall!” Izuku laughs.

“You don’t look that beat up about it.”

“No. I don’t suppose I do.”

Katsuki’s heart is thumping aggressively against his rib cage. Now that he can’t blame the ride for his sharp increase in adrenaline, he feels a pinch of nerves as he eyes Izuku. He isn’t really sure what to make of the situation. The little broccoli boy is extracting foreign feelings from Katsuki. The kind that battered up your insides and got stuck in your throat. The kind that simultaneously weakened and reinforced a person’s otherwise impenetrable fortitude.

In the space of a singular amusement park ride, Izuku had punctured Katsuki’s well-built walls, and slipped into his fortress.

“Izuku,” Katsuki leans forward an inch and Izuku’s eyes flutter down to land on Katsuki’s lips, “can I-”

“Oi, Loverboy! Stop flirting! We gotta get Kaminari to the bathroom before he’s sick.”

Sero is waving him over to the gate, where he and the rest of the idiots stand. Kirishima shoots Sero a disbelieving look, but then returns his focus to Kaminari (who did indeed look a bit pale).

Katsuki’s response is a kneejerk reaction, “I’m not fucking flirting.”

There’s a sharp inhale beside him, and before Katsuki can return his attention to Izuku, the smaller boy has moved from his spot in their little cradle.

“Kacchan,” Izuku smiles, but the grin is dim compared to what it was just moments before, “This was really fun. And for the record, I think you were perfectly chivalrous.” Then the boy gives a jilted sort of nod and streaks towards the exit gate.

Katsuki does not get the chance to even consider calling out for him. He’s too fast. Izuku pushes past the idiot gang and disappears into the crowd.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Hanta Sero is officially getting the silent treatment, as well as Katsuki’s most withering glare. It’s a deadly combination.

“Dude,” Sero groans, “I’ve said sorry like 30 times now.”

In a moment of great maturity, Katsuki glowers even harder at Sero and then swings his head obviously away from the other boy.

 

After they had taken Kaminari to the bathroom, and the boy had gagged up plenty of fairy floss, the gang had set their sights on Katsuki. Then, vultures descending on their prey, they all spoke at once.

“I didn’t know you had a thing for shorties.”
“Dude! You were all over him.”
“He was so cute!”
“The way you protected him, bro? So manly.”

Katsuki had huffed and growled, but the group was far too used to his antics to be deterred. He tried to play it off like he didn’t care that Izuku had disappeared when the ride was over, but alas, the group saw straight through that. So, after a few minutes of hounding, Katsuki snapped and had said, “It doesn’t fucking matter. Sticky tape scared him away.”

“You’re bringing up the sticky tape incident? Now?” Sero balked, “You must be really mad.”

“Damn right I’m mad.”

Kirishima, courting death, had placed a comforting hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, “It can’t be that bad, man. You don’t even know the guy.”

The comment had earned a scoff from Katsuki, “You didn’t see him up close. He was like an angel or some shit. A tiny green angel.”

Fuck. Stop talking Katsuki.

“… And he was weirdly strong and he … he had a really nice laugh.”

The gang had gone quiet. It had felt downright bizarre standing silently amongst the loudmouths.

“Blasty down bad.” Ashido had whispered.

“Well, let’s go find him then!” Kirishima yelled, holding a fist up as a kind of battle symbol.

 

Which brings them back to present, Katsuki alternating between glaring at Sero and pouting, while the group moves through the crowded carnival, eyes out for locks of green.

They’d been at it for nearly forty minutes. Katsuki had given up maybe thirty minutes ago.

“Guys,” he yells over the crowd, “let’s just fucking go home.”

The gang exchanges a look of disappointment, but turns towards the exit. Sero, to his credit, did look like he felt the worst about the situation. Good, Katsuki thinks. He knows that it wasn’t actually Sero’s words which had caused Izuku to turn tail and run from the ride, but Katsuki is sad, mad and needs someone to blame. He’ll buy the other boy some meat buns or something as an apology later.

Just as they reach the fair’s exit however, Sero’s head perks up.

“I have an idea!” He declares, and then he’s running. Used to the various whims of the idiot squads’ various members, they all take off after him.

Sero approaches the carnival's information and emergency tent, Katsuki right behind him.

The man sitting at the tent’s counter looks half dead. He has a bright yellow blanket pulled tightly around his shoulders, and bags around his eyes so deep that they’d need to be checked as oversized if this were an airport.

“Hello!” Sero says, and the man flinches at his chipper tone, “My little brother has gotten lost! Can you do an announcement or something?”

“No.”

“Please! He’s probably really scared.”

“No.”

“You’re really ok with me losing my little brother? Maybe even permanently?” Sero cries dramatically.

The clerk groans and scans the group of them. Katsuki knows they look like teenage menaces, which could either work in their favour or against them right now. The worker pushes his long tangles of black hair off his face while his tired eyes appraise them.

“They don’t pay me enough to deal with this shit,” the man grumbles, his hands reaching under the desk for something. Then, he’s shoving a small microphone into Sero’s hands.

To his credit, Sero doesn’t hesitate to scoop up the mic and press the on button.

“Uh, hi!” The carnival speakers reverberate around them and echo in the distance.

Sero continues, “If Izuku with the green hair and, I quote, the ‘really nice laugh’ is still at the carnival …”

“Die, Sticky Tape!”

“… a certain, aggressive blonde would really like to see you again. He will be waiting at the …”

Sero’s head whirls around, seeking help. Ashido points dramatically at the big wheel not too far from them.

“… at the Ferris wheel!”

 

 

~~~

 

 

Standing off to the side of the line-up for the Ferris wheel, the Bakusquad await Katsuki’s Deku. Though the crowd has significantly lessened, the dedicated still mill about, waiting for the closing fireworks and getting in some last minute rides.

Katsuki keeps thinking the next person who rounds the corner will be Deku, but each time, it's a goddamn extra. That doesn't stop his heart from leaping every time someone appears. Honestly, Katsuki is beginning to worry his heart was going to give out – it’s skipping so many beats. All of his nervous energy is being channelled into his leg. It’s bouncing furiously in its place, leaving an indent of his foot in the earth below.

This is fucking stupid. Deku isn’t coming. Katsuki is just some guy he’d fallen into on a ride. There’s nothing more to it. Katsuki is acting downright stalkerish, what with the searching over the fairgrounds and that stupid announcement. For fuck’s sake, they should just leave.

Kirishima is staring forlornly at Katsuki, and the look is doing nothing to calm the blonde’s frayed nerves. 

"Dude," Kirishima starts, "Maybe he already le-"

That line of thought is cut short by a shout of joy. 

"Kaaaccchaaaaaan!"

Deku is waving from some 50 metres away, dimples on full display as he moves hurriedly through the crowd. There’s a group of teens close on his heels - looks like Deku has extras of his own. Katsuki takes a moment to note that the rag tag group flanking Deku look fucking outrageous. The little gang consists of glorious Deku at the helm, followed by a boy sporting a red and white hairstyle that just screamed 'I’m rebelling against my parents', a girl with pufferfish cheeks, a taller boy who resembles a constipated robot and another girl who’s just a straight-up anthropomorphised frog.

Katsuki doesn’t really give a shit about Deku’s friends right now though. He springs forwards, moving towards Deku with scarcely concealed excitement.

Their friends watch in befuddled amusement as Katsuki and Izuku rush to each other. The pair mirror those dramatic couples from films who charge towards each other in fields of flowers, in airports, on beachfronts. Except this isn't a rom-com, and the two boys keep getting blocked by oblivious carnival goers. Izuku leaps back every time someone steps in front of him, shouting apologies as he sidesteps them. Katsuki opts instead to shove anyone who comes even remotely close to his pathway.

When they are just steps away from each other, Izuku – his bright-ass eyes too caught up in Katsuki’s own – trips over his ridiculous fire-engine combat boots. The boy falls towards the ground, but Katsuki dives forwards and catches him under his arms. Katsuki manages to right them both to a standing position, and tries to act casual when he slides his hands to rest delicately on Izuku’s waist.

Izuku giggles, “Thanks Kacchan, thought I was a goner for a second there.”

The sound of Izuku’s giggles send Katsuki’s stomach aflutter. There must be a pack of butterflies … or maybe pterodactyls, who fucking knows … living in there, Katsuki reasons. All he knows is that he feels nauseous, but would also like the feeling to never dissipate.

“Nerd. I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“Ahhh Kacchan, always the hero.”

Katsuki lifts one arm away from Izuku’s hip, and theatrically flexes his bicep, grinning manically as he does so. His brazen cockiness earns another laugh from the green-eyed boy. Nice, Katsuki thinks as he reaches back down to pull Izuku a little closer.

Both too enrapt in one another, they barely notice the rest of their charges standing awkwardly behind each of them.

"What the hell is happening?" Kaminari whispers out of the corner of his mouth. Kirishima shrugs, and shakes his head a bit, his face somewhere between disbelief and delight. Ashido and Sero wear matching expressions of confusion.

Izuku's group isn't faring much better. Round cheeks and the frog girl are watching with their mouths agape. The tall guy is bouncing on the balls of his feet, like he doesn't know what to do with himself. The box-dye kid looks the worst, his mouth pressed so thinly together it almost completely hides his lips. His gaze is fixed sternly on Katsuki's hands, which lie comfortably on Izuku’s hips. The glare, which is as fiery in anger as it is cold in indignation, sends a feral thrill through Katsuki's body. He pulls Izuku tighter to him, which prompts a nervous squeak from the green-haired enigma himself.

In response, Mr. Red and White Knight steps forward, "Midoriya, are you okay?"

"Your name's Midoriya?" Katsuki snorts, "That's fitting." He reaches up and twirls a green curl around his finger and stares into Izuku's gleaming green eyes. The boy was definitely green personified.

"You don't even know his name?!" Strawberry Shortcake rages. 

"It's fine. I'm fine," Izuku's eyes are crinkled into crescent moons, joy oozing out of his very pores.

Someone behind Katsuki clears their throat.

“Why don’t we get in line for the Ferris wheel?” Kirishima suggests, “Then we can all get to know each other a bit more?”

“Not your worst idea, Shitty hair. Deku and I will catch up in a sec.”

Izuku nods at his friends, “I’ll see you guys in a minute!”

Katsuki’s idiots are already leading the way to the line, calling out amicably for the newbies to follow. In a rare moment of gratitude, Katsuki admits that the fools weren’t entirely incapable. They knew how to read a room, and they never let him down when it mattered.

“I’m happy you wanted to see me, Kacchan.” Izuku is smiling up at him. He better stop that, lest Katsuki’s knees give out.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Nerd.”

“Yeah, there’s not near enough room here for the both of our ginormous egos.”

Katsuki shoves a hand into Deku’s hair and ruffles those cotton curls. Izuku playfully swats his hand away. Then, they are near wrestling, right there in the middle of the carnival alley. In between half-hearted shoves, Izuku giggles and Katsuki laughs in a completely dignified and macho way (he too giggles).

When they finally take a moment to catch their breath, grins plastered on, Izuku looks up at Katsuki, teeth nibbling nervously at his lip.

“Kacchan, I can’t believe I only met you tonight. I feel like I’ve known you forever. God. Please don’t think I’m weird for saying that. We just, click so well. Don’t we? You’re just so familiar. Like I’ve dreamt of you before, or knew you in another life or something. I guess it’s possible that we’re friends in another dimension or something. Maybe. I-”

“Cut the rambling, stupid Deku,” Katsuki gives Izuku one last shove in the shoulder. Izuku stops his mumbling and chuckles softly instead, feeding Katsuki’s newly found Deku laugh addiction. “I know what you mean though. I feel like I’m meant to know you.”

Izuku’s eyes suddenly look suspiciously damp, “Kacchan …”

“Don’t fucking cry about it!” Katsuki shouts, but he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice. “Come on, Deku. Let’s go catch up with the idiots. I want to ride to Ferris wheel.”

Then, feeling brave, he snatches Izuku’s hand into his own and stomps towards the line.

They find their friends about halfway through the line, and step in behind them. Before any of their friends notice them, however, Izuku and Katsuki are greeted by a grating little voice.

"Hey, you can't cut the line," the whingy voice says. Katsuki turns to look at the annoyance, and sees a fuck-ugly guy with some pompous-ass purple pompadour perched on his head. He's wearing some garish shirt in the same shade, with grapes printed all over it.

Katsuki sneers at the little chump, but the moron doesn't take the hint. He's still glaring up at Izuku and Katsuki, his arms folded across his chest like a petulant child.

"Sorry," Izuku says, smiling sympathetically, "We just wanna ride with our friends. I can ask if they could let you in front of us?"

"We don't need to do anything for grapes-for-brains here, Deku," Katsuki says. He uses a harsh, but hushed tone. 

Unluckily, the guy overhears anyway. "Hey Greenie, muzzle your mutt. I've been waiting to go on this ride for ages. You can see the best babes from the top."

Izuku's eyebrows curve inwards and his lips curl into a snarl. Looks like the nerd could tolerate rudeness – he actually had an over-abundance of patience, if anything – just not when said rudeness was directed at his ‘Kacchan’. 

"You sure you're tall enough to ride?" Izuku snaps. Then, he turns his back on the guy, grabbing Katsuki by his arm and pulling him along too.

Izuku starts ranting about 'the sheer disrespect’ of some people, all the while keeping his hand snaked securely under Katsuki's arm. Katsuki had been a half-second off decking Purple Hair, but seeing Deku so … dare he say, territorial ... Katsuki can't deny that he finds the whole thing a bit hot. So, he contents himself with watching Deku's pretty mouth as it spits absurdities, and he continues to watch as the boy relaxes, mouth curving into a shy smile instead.

"I'm excited to ride the Ferris wheel with you, Kacchan." Deku tilts his head forwards, and his fluffy curls tickle as they brush Katsuki's chin.

"Yeah, me too Nerd."

The grape guy is probably still complaining behind them, but if he is, Izuku and Katsuki pay him no mind.

Their friends take a hot minute to even notice the pair had re-joined their ranks. They had been yapping away happily, apparently taking to each other like ducks to water. The line moves quite quickly, and soon their group is next to board.

The Ferris wheel is one of those old-styled, rickety, two person ones. They’ll be loosely secured by a bar over their waists, and their legs will dangle in the open air. Froggy and Chipmunk Cheeks get on first, closely followed by Kaminari and Kirishima, then Ashido and Sero.

“Midoriya, who do you want to ride with?”

“What the fuck, half-and-half? Deku’s riding with me.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku slaps his shoulder, before addressing his friend, “I’ll ride with Kacchan for this one – you and Iida-kun go ahead, Todoroki-kun.”

The fucking audacity, the gumption, the gall of that guy … Katsuki already knows that tolerating ‘Todoroki-kun’ was going to be an exercise in saint-like patience.

But whatever. Deku and he finally get to board and they’re pressed tightly against each other in the tiny seat. The wheel rotates slowly, and they rise above the carnival.

“It’s pretty up here,” Izuku says, taking in the view below.

Katsuki turns his head, glimpsing the look of wonder sparkling in Izuku’s eyes. Izuku is the very picture of beauty right now. The wind rustles his green locks so they tremble, and the cool breeze has prompted a light pink to bloom across his cheeks and nose. His freckles are dotted across his body like a mirror to the starry sky above them.

“It sure is.”

Izuku turns and meets his gaze.

Katsuki isn’t sure who leans in, but their lips are suddenly hovering above each other, breath intermingling and tickling their cheeks. The warmth of their shared breath contrasts with the night’s cool sting, which sends tingles down Katsuki’s spine. The little jolt pushes him forwards.

When Katsuki presses his lips against Izuku’s, there are literal fireworks. The sky explodes into colour and sparks. You see, the fair is winding down for the night, and the closing fireworks have shattered the previously calm sky. The bangs and pops of the colourful display provide a lovely backdrop for the kiss.

But frankly, Katsuki doesn’t notice. All he knows is the softness of Izuku’s lips, and how he he can taste damn fairy floss on the nerd’s tongue as it swipes against his own. His heart is thumping hard in his chest, and those pterodactyls in his stomach have started flapping their unforgiving wings again. It’s as painful as it is elating. Katsuki never wants it to end.

Katsuki’s head feels fuzzy when they eventually pull away from one another. His vision tunnels and all he sees is Izuku.

“Wow,” Izuku smiles, eyes still lightly closed.

“That impressive, huh?”

Izuku opens one eye and flashes him a lopsided smile, “You didn’t think so?”

Katsuki hums and leans back in, “Might’ve. Let me kiss you again, just to be sure.”

Katsuki wouldn’t have assumed it possible, but the second kiss is even better. Izuku responds to each tentative lick, opening and tilting his mouth in harmony with Katsuki. At one point, the little nerd nibbles softly on Katsuki’s lower lip and Katsuki feels his soul ascend into ecstasy.

By the time they break apart, their carriage is already at the top of the wheel.

“We’re high now!” Izuku squeaks, grabbing onto the bar securing them in their seat and looking around excitedly.

Katsuki throws an arm over Izuku’s shoulder, and leans his head to rest on top of green curls. “Don’t worry Deku, I won’t let you fall.”

“Oh Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, a faint blush on his cheeks, “I think I already have.”