Flirting With Disaster [Chapter 2]

Unlike Katsuki, Izuku knew the names of all his classmates. Katsuki only ever bothered to memorise the important ones – few as they were – but Izuku made a point of knowing them all, just in case. He was friendly to everyone, greeted them by name if they passed in the street on the weekends, and knew all their birthdays as well! He always left a cupcake on their desks early in the morning on those days, or on the last day of school if someone had a birthday during a break. Most days, he liked having that knowledge. Liked knowing that he’d taken the time to make an effort for them all, to make them feel seen, or even special.

Today was not one of those days.

Imiko, freakin’ Imiko, with her shiny hair and un-freckled skin, her bright eyes and confident smile, her god-damned Quirk. It wasn’t like he could even hate her, not outright, because she was lovely and that infuriated him. She was always ready with a smile, had even thanked him last time he left her a cupcake, and in another life he was sure they would have been good friends; but in this life, she was all over his Kacchan!

She didn’t even make fun of Izuku, the way the rest of the class did! Sure, she didn’t stop them either, but he wasn’t sure she’d ever actually said a bad word about him – about anyone. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t, or else she and Katsuki might have been dating by now. What if she had some secret, amazing sense of wit and timing that sent Katsuki into fits of cackles and made him fall in love?! Izuku couldn’t have that. He was just gonna have to keep looking pitiful and hoping she didn’t decide it was suddenly a good day to join in with the torment.

Not that it would last long, anyway. As soon as they started dating, he was sure to rub off on her a little, to convince her to join in with the teasing of the Quirkless nerd.

But for now, she perched on the edge of Katsuki’s desk, legs crossed so her skirt rode up over her thighs, twirling long hair around her finger as she spoke to him quietly. Katsuki didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her, but he nodded every so often in response, like always, and he didn’t shove her off his desk or tell her to piss off. In Katsuki’s world, that was practically a marriage proposal. Izuku knew that all too well, considering how many times he’d been kicked aside just for stepping a little too close to Katsuki’s chair.

“Isn’t it so cool that we’re gonna be in hero schools soon?” she asked, lifting Izuku’s gaze to watch her smile sweetly. “One day we’re gonna be those super cool Pro-Heroes who kick villain butts and make people cheer for us.”

“Mm,” Katsuki grunted, eyes not lifting from his book. “One day.”

“I can’t wait to start real heroics classes, it’s gonna be so much fun, don’t you think? It would be cool if we went to the same course, but only you’re good enough to get into U.A., Bakugou!”

Katsuki didn’t respond, but he squared his shoulders a little, and Izuku knew he appreciated the praise. He’d always basked in people’s approval and admiration, it was probably the biggest reason he wanted to be a hero – at least, that was what Izuku had always thought. Katsuki talked a big game about wanting to beat up villains, but Izuku suspected what he really wanted was the civilians asking for his autograph, lining up for him to sign their merch, and screaming his name excitedly in the streets. Izuku had always hoped he’d be there, too, smiling at Katsuki as they basked in a win together and planned out the next one.

Stupid Imiko. She wasn’t even a hero-nerd! Which was probably a positive in Katsuki’s books, honestly, but Katsuki deserved someone knowledgeable! Someone who could talk to him about all the best fights – usually All Might’s – and discuss tactics with him for his own hero forays. How was he gonna develop new strategies if Imiko was always distracting him with her stupid smiles?!

Then again, she was going to be a hero, too. She had a Quirk that would allow it, even if it wasn’t as good as Katsuki’s. She didn’t get laughed at when she talked about the merits of different high schools with their diverse range of hero courses. Even Katsuki didn’t sneer at her for it – on a good day, he even nodded along with her, encouraging her to continue talking. Izuku never got nods, he just got glares and “stop mumbling nonsense, nerd”s.

Did Katsuki actually like her? He’d certainly been letting her hang out long enough for it to be plausible, and honestly, why wouldn’t he? She was great, even Izuku wasn’t stubborn enough to deny that. It wasn’t like Katsuki would ever have liked him, anyway. He was just a useless Deku, a piece of gum stuck to Katsuki’s shoe that he couldn’t quite scrape off, no matter how many times he wiped it on the edge of the curb, hoping to dislodge it. Somehow, though, he’d never considered the possibility of Katsuki liking someone else. Katsuki wasn’t friendly to anyone, but Izuku felt like he was getting... almost remotely close, with Imiko. He let her hang around in a way he didn’t allow anyone else, and he never snapped or yelled at her – he was surprisingly patient! That was about the closest Katsuki ever got to nice, and Izuku... didn’t like it.

His Kacchan was not meant to be nice, he was meant to be cool! And strong! And talented! And amazing! And hot as fuck in a way that made Izuku’s stupid puberty hormones go buck wild in the middle of the night no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

Not that hard, his brain helpfully supplied. You seem pretty okay with letting it happen.

Izuku wasn’t sure most of their classmates would even have noticed the change in Katsuki’s attitude – it was pretty subtle, really. He was still brash and overconfident in class, and he still yelled at people for being idiots constantly, but in his free moments between outbursts, there was a little flirty bitch at his side.

She’s not a bitch, his brain reminded him. She’s actually very sweet.

“Shut up, brain,” he grumbled to himself, shoving his textbooks in his bag. They had to go to the gym after lunch, and he needed to be ready as soon as Katsuki moved. They both liked to be the first ones to class – Katsuki because he was just a perfectionist like that, and Izuku so he could get in and out of the changing rooms before anyone could fix their target on him. Before Katsuki could fix a target on him – Katsuki making fun of him while he literally had no pants on was just a recipe for more embarrassment and subsequent ridicule.

Then again, Katsuki had been ignoring him more, in recent weeks. Ever since she showed up.

Well, okay, she’d always been there, but he felt like she’d starting hanging around all the time out of nowhere. She'd clearly decided that Katsuki was a hot commodity, that he was going to benefit her in the future if she locked him down early. Honestly, even if she just convinced him to go on one date with her, she’d have a story to sell to the tabloids for decades to come. “Number One Hero’s First Date Ever Spills All The Details” and “Number One Hero’s Middle School Days – Ex-Girlfriend Tells All!” were sure to sell for a ton of money.

Hell, Izuku would have spent his life savings on an article like that about All Might, but he didn’t seem to even have any ex-girlfriends, as far as the media could tell.

Regardless, as much as the attention Katsuki had paid to Izuku before had been negative, always yelling or insults or taunting, at least it had been something. Now, with Imiko hanging around trying to secure her bag, it was like Izuku didn’t even exist anymore, like Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge his presence, and that was killing Izuku inside. He just wanted to hear that voice, even if it was to berate him! He knew that was weird, knew he should be grateful to fly under the radar, but he just needed Katsuki in his life. He couldn’t imagine life without him – and honestly didn’t want to try.

He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, how Katsuki would react if he acted the way Imiko did. Maybe not sitting on his desk, he’d undoubtedly get blown up for that one, but the giggles and the praise, the constant texting, the effortless little touches that somehow didn’t get her hand blown off. He even tried to imagine twirling his hair around his finger as he smiled at Katsuki, swinging his legs lightly to show off... what? How short and stubby they were? The fuzzy hair beginning to grow on them? How awkward and uncoordinated they were? No, that one definitely wouldn’t work. Nor the hair twirling, he suspected, since his finger would probably just get tangled up in a curl and make him look like an idiot who got his hand stuck in his own hair. So no, that one wasn’t going to work either, but some of it might, right? It would probably annoy Katsuki, but at least he’d get spoken to, even if it was to yell at him or tell him how stupid he looked!

There was one notebook still out on Izuku’s desk, one that he used to record a lot of his rambling thoughts and try to make sense of them, so he flipped it open to a back page, starting a list in his tiniest writing.

Compliments, he wrote first. Strength. Quirk. Smart.

That was the easy one, he already did that in his head, he just needed to say the things out loud!

Giggle.

He wasn’t sure how that one would work, but all the popular girls seemed to do it, so maybe he’d start practicing his best cute giggle at home, the next time his mother was out.

Stroke bicep.

He crossed that one out the moment he finished writing it. As much as he’d love to, and had been insanely jealous when he watched Imiko do it, he quite liked owning hands. Stroking Katsuki’s bicep without some kind of warning and permission first – which he’d never be granted – was a recipe for spending the rest of his life with a hook in place of his nice, normal fingers.

Then again, maybe people would believe him if he claimed Hook Hands was the name of his Quirk.

Hook hands, he wrote next, crossing that one out too.

No, Katsuki wouldn’t like that either. Imiko’s hands were too nice, Izuku didn’t need to give her another leg up on him.

When Katsuki stood up to leave, grabbing his backpack to go get changed, Izuku quickly snapped his notebook shut and put it away. He needed to be on his feet as soon as Katsuki stepped out into the hallway, that was the magic distance where Katsuki wouldn’t yell at him for being too close, but which would still let him get to the changing rooms in a hurry.

At least until he got lost in his thoughts and stopped maintaining that perfect distance, anyway, but that usually only happened when they walked home!

The notebook had to disappear quickly, too. If Katsuki, or any of his loyal friends, got word of some of the notes he had in it, Katsuki would skip past hook hands and straight to murder.

Then again, it would certainly get him some attention.

Was death worth it for Katsuki to look at him again? To yell at him? To acknowledge that he was there, for more than half a second?

No, death was probably a step too far. After all, if he died, he’d never get to hear that voice again.

Unless he came back as a ghost. Then he could stay as close as he wanted, and Katsuki would never say a word about it! He could watch Kacchan sleep! And change! And use the bathroom!

Being a ghost actually sounded pretty good, come to think of it.

Then again, Katsuki definitely wouldn’t acknowledge him or talk to him if he was a ghost, so that idea was out the window too.

He climbed out of his seat, slinging his bag over his shoulder to follow, and ignoring the snickering that remained behind him as the remaining classmates smirked over his awkwardness, and more than likely, the way he followed after Katsuki like a lost puppy. They didn’t matter, though – what mattered was walking with his Kacchan, even if it was just a short, quiet trip to another building, without their eyes ever meeting or their voices exchanging any words. He could still see Kacchan, and that was entertaining enough in its own right, as long as Katsuki didn’t catch him doing it.

Man, he wished he had a ghost Quirk.

As they walked, though, Katsuki did something new. He took out his phone. Katsuki never took his phone out at school! Mostly because they weren’t supposed to. Katsuki may have been loud and brash, but he hated being told off, even for the smallest things.

Izuku couldn’t resist the urge to peek over Katsuki’s shoulder, to read the message that showed up on his screen. Normally he wouldn’t have even considered it – not out of fear, but just because he didn’t need to know what Katsuki was texting about! That day was different, though, because he’d caught a glimpse of the name that popped up on the screen as Katsuki lit it up. Not to mention he’d noticed the way Katsuki had picked the text up straight away when he saw the name, hadn’t just left it there to digitally rot while he finished his school day.

When he opened the message, though, Izuku’s eyes grew wider. Imiko apparently liked to call Katsuki too – she got to hear his voice? So unfair. At least he had asked her – almost politely – to stop, though, in that instance.

“Stop calling me, I’m at the gym.” the text read. Apparently calling when he wasn’t busy was okay, then? Izuku didn’t like that thought.

“Ooooh, send me a photo!” Imiko had replied.

Izuku admittedly had to repress a snicker at Katsuki’s next response, though – a photo of the gym near their homes, which decidedly did not feature him in it, captioned “here, weirdo.”

Katsuki didn’t know flirting when it bit him in the face, apparently. Izuku was glad for that; he might have asked her out weeks ago if he’d realised what was going on.

As the bell rang, and they stepped into the gym only seconds apart, Izuku knew it was going to be the best time to start putting his plan into action. Katsuki was always amazing at anything physical, it wouldn’t be hard to find a chance for compliments! They’d been playing volleyball lately, which meant plenty of opportunities to praise his strong serve, his lightning-quick reactions, his incredible diving saves when they thought all hope was lost, and of course his excellent aim when it came to slamming the ball down on the other side of the net to bag his team some points. Honestly, most of their classmates were terrified to block one of Katsuki’s shots – he spent far too much time in the gym working on his arms to give him better power and more control of his Quirk – so it wasn’t as difficult for him to score points as it could have been, anyway.

He was standing on the sidelines when his first opportunity came. Katsuki was on the court with his little team of the same lackeys who followed him everywhere, and her. Somehow Imiko had wormed her way into his group, and Izuku was actually kind of impressed – the girl was good.

Katsuki’s sleeves were rolled up, showing off his growing biceps – Izuku knew for a fact that Katsuki had always hated those sleeves, but he suspected the chance to show off his new muscles was a pretty good motivator too. Katsuki liked his shirts sleeveless, when it was hot out, or long-sleeved when it was cold; t-shirts were a weird in-between that Katsuki found irritating.

Suck it, Imiko. There was no way she knew that.

So there he was, with his sleeves rolled up, showing off the little curve of muscle that popped out when he moved or flexed in the right ways, sweat running down his face and making his shirt stick to him, the clingy material showing off his pecs and fuck, if Izuku had thought the arms were a good sight... Anyway, there he was, and there was Izuku, thirsty as fuck as he watched. He smiled and clapped whenever Katsuki scored a point, waiting for the opportunity to slip in a compliment, or at least a “good job, Kacchan!” without it seeming awkward or heavy-handed.

Not that Imiko seemed to mind being blatant. And he supposed if it worked for her...

No, he was better than that! He wouldn’t just shamelessly throw himself out there and be ridiculed for it, he’d wait for the opportunities that at least felt natural!

So when Katsuki made a particularly brilliant save, following it up with a quick move to get in position and spike it right back, earning his team the winning point, Izuku took his moment.

“Sugoi, Kacchan!”

No one even seemed to notice him speak, aside from Katsuki, whose eyes darted to him with a hint of confusion in them. He didn’t say a word, just gave Izuku that weird look and moved on immediately, but for that brief moment, Izuku had held his attention. And he hadn’t been yelled at for it! It was perfect and he couldn’t have asked for a better day at school!

As he gathered his things to head home, though, he couldn’t help but start to deflate a little. It had been so awkward, and Izuku was sure Katsuki would have snapped at him if he’d been closer – there had been enough distance between them in the gym that Katsuki hadn’t felt like he had to acknowledge it. Imiko was so natural about it when she complimented him, was so good at it all. But Izuku was more determined than she was! He was going to practice flirting at every opportunity he got, until it came out smoother, more natural-sounding. He was gonna become the best flirter in the whole school – the whole town.

Izuku didn’t have a Quirk, after all, so he was going to rely on his brain, and hard work, and strong motivation, and sheer damn stubbornness.

He held his head a little higher as he marched home that night.