Chapter Text
“We met when I accidentally crashed his auditions. He was auditioning for this hero role in a movie and I swooped in on the set—you could say I have a huge personality—and everyone had to put their eyes on m—”
“She totally did it on purpose to steal my thund—”
“Aaaand the rest is history!” Yuu elbows the man, grinning widely. “Aren’t we good now, Shinji?”
“Fine, we’re good, Yuu.”
“More than great! We’re married!”
“To my dismay,” Shinji says, but he smiles.
HOOOOOOONK!
Great, another five seconds wasted. Apparently, blasting his carn horns thrice in as many minutes isn’t enough of a fucking hint. No one can blame Katsuki if it’s no longer his hand on the steering wheel, but his head.
Katsuki groans. He cannot fucking fathom why this stranger (who he’d already graciously allowed to hitch a ride with him) won’t stop making out with his "friend."
He’s so fucking ready to leave this stupid place. Even without another shouting match with the old hag, he would have pulled up to the meeting point ahead of schedule anyway. It's not because the drive to New York is a lengthy 18 hours. Having freshly graduated from university, Katsuki is antsy to start a new life—move states, job hunt, set up in his new apartment, and more.
The sky is the fucking limit for one Katsuki Bakugou, and he has a plan.
Which today’s idiotic stranger-of-the-day is hellbent on ruining.
The vein in Katsuki’s forehead is this close to exploding.
Katsuki rolls down the car window and sticks out his middle finger. “OII, YOU FUCKING DEKU! GET IN THE CAR NOW, OR I’M DITCHING YOUR ASS!”
This —not the car horn—makes the idiot boy, who is forever Deku to Katsuki, look up in alarm. Was his voice louder than the car horn? He supposes the old hag taught him well. At least she was good for something.
Deku looks apologetically at their common friend, whose name Katsuki is purposefully forgetting out of spite for macking in broad fucking daylight.
“So sorry, Ochako. I’ve got to go. I think we've been giving your friend an aneurysm, and the only way to fix it is to leave right this second," Deku says sheepishly. As if he couldn’t be any worse, he’s even wearing the dumbest outfit in the whole fucking world. A t-shirt that says “T-Shirt,” how fucking witty.
More like shitty.
Ocha— aah, Round Face —wails and throws her arms around Deku. “Aww, but I’m going to miss you so much! Promise to call and text me when you get there?”
“Aww, sweetie! I’ll even text you from the road! I miss you already!”
“I’ll miss you more!”
“I’ll miss you most-est!”
Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard it would have fallen out of their sockets, if it weren’t for fucking biology and the human body’s limitations. Those sickly sweet baby voices make him want to retch.
“Oi, oi, oi,” he grumbles, tapping the side of his car to cue Deku to hurry up. Gently tapping. He’s not a monster.
Deku finally drags his suitcases and bags towards the car. Katsuki helps the fucker load it into the back to get it done quicker. Now if only Round Face would stop clinging to Deku’s waist.
"Oi, Round Face!” Katsuki barks. “Get off his waist already."
"But Katsukiii!!!"
Aside from needing to physically pry off Round Face, the whole process is smooth and they’re ready to set off quicker than expected.
Katsuki breathes out a sigh of relief. The world must have some mercy on him.
Fucking spoke too soon.
As he’s pulling away from the curb towards the university gate, Deku rolls down the window and sticks his upper half out to wave back to Round Face. “LOVE YOUUU, OCHAKO!” Deku yells like the idiot he is because they’re too fucking far to be heard.
Katsuki is sorely tempted to let Deku hang out there and fall. But he’s not that much of an asshole. “What the fuck are you doing?! Get the fuck back in here, idiot!”
If the car weren’t a stick shift, Katsuki swears he might have even dragged Deku back by those stupid messy curls. They’re almost screaming drag me back because my owner’s too stupid.
He breathes as he rolls the window back up. No. He won’t let this stupid stranger ruin his progress from those free counseling sessions. Those were hard and a fucking hassle (and fine, fucking helpful, you won’t catch him admitting that out loud).
Deku quickly brings himself inside with a stupid giggle. He leaves his fingers hanging out until the very last second. Katsuki’s not sure what for. It’s not like Round Face could even hear let alone see them now, so he’s positive that this Deku is just out to make this as miserable of a trip as possible.
This is going to be a long fucking ride.
“Listen up, Deku,” Katsuki says as blandly as possible. Eyes fixed on the road, he wants to ooze unapproachability. “This whole drive is already planned out, and you are not going to fuck it up. It’s 18 hours total, and I sure as hell won’t drive the whole way there. Round Face says you’re a decent enough driver, so we’ll be taking 3-hour shifts. The timer’s already started, and your make-out session cost me thirty minutes. Fifteen for the time I waited plus another fifteen, just because of the trauma you inflicted on my eyeballs.”
Katsuki takes the silence as affirmation. He almost thinks he can breathe easy when another giggle bursts out from Deku.
“Um, excuse me? I’m pretty sure you didn’t wait for fifteen minutes. Also, Deku? Where’d you get that?” Deku’s laugh is quickly becoming the straw that will soon break his already fraying nerves. “You know, Ochako did tell me that you have a stick up your ass.”
It’s okay, Katsuki. It’s okay.
“First, it sure fucking felt like fifteen, stupid Deku. That’s being generous. Second, Deku, because you’re fucking useless. Third, my old hag handed me that stick herself, so for the sake of your own mother, or even fucking Round Face, you better shut up for the next 18 hours, because I swear I might just strangle you.”
“Yeeeesh,” Deku says, sounding mildly offended.
Katsuki isn’t sure, doesn’t care, and can’t be bothered to check.
Deku stupidly barrels on anyway. “No need to be so uptight. I’m just making casual conversation he—oh! Wait, I haven’t even introduced myself, how silly.” There’s a slapping sound, like a palm striking the forehead. Katsuki is very familiar. “Ochako must have said, but I’m Izuku Midoriya. And you’re Katsuki Bakugou? I know you’re driving so I can’t really shake your hand, but it’s good to meet you. Even if we got off on the wrong foot. But still! Thanks for letting me ride with you!"
“Tch” is Katsuki’s only reply. Surely, surely , that’s enough to get through Deku’s thick skull?
For the third time that day, Katsuki is proven wrong.
“Actually, wouldn’t it be better to divide the drive by miles, instead? I’m not really in any rush, so I can go slow during my three-hour turn. Well, I won’t do that because I’m not that petty, even though you did arrive earlier than our meet-up time, so can you maybe consider that it was actually you interrupting? Realistically, though, dividing by miles makes more sense—what if there’s an accident and a whole 3-hour shift gets eaten up—”
“—DEKU! Jesus—”
Katsuki suddenly brakes. If he thought Deku’s laugh was grating, then his muttering is fork tines dragging over tin foil. Despite a perfect three years of driving stick shift, he loses control of the clutch and the engine dies.
Maybe on another day, Katsuki would have beat himself up for it. But today, Deku’s loud yelp of surprise is very satisfying.
Katsuki exhales a long breath. After checking that they’re in the clear, he directs the full force of his glare on Deku, which he knows strikes fear into the hearts of groupmates, straight-A students and freeloaders alike. “You know what I meant, you fucking smartass,” he snarls. “But, since I have to spell it out for you: I want you to cover 200 miles in three hours, barring fucking car accidents or any external circumstances. Now, do I have to repeat that again?”
Deku pouts and crosses his arms, looking slightly guilty. “Sorry, I was just teasing. But fine.”
Just to be safe, Katsuki does his breathing exercises. In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. He does this for a solid five minutes, which is a whole ass miracle in and of itself—the few cars that pass by do not house angry passengers, Katsuki’s pulse returns to normal, and the truest miracle of them all, Deku is quiet.
Katsuki starts the car.
The peace lasts for a grand total of 8 minutes before Deku starts chattering again.
It’s going to be a long fucking ride.
They’ve been on the road for more than eleven hours now. It’s Izuku’s second shift driving and he is starving.
Has annoying Katsuki earlier got to do with it? Maybe, maybe not. Ochako did warn him about Katsuki’s strict habits. But he didn’t expect that that meant very few and very timed bathroom breaks. Even worse, Katsuki had no plans of stopping to eat. Eat! Katsuki came prepared with protein shakes and green smoothies, which he’d sparingly drink throughout the drive.
Izuku tried to turn his puppy dog eyes to Katsuki multiple times, who would always growl back, glare downright murderous when Izuku’s (safely!) making faces from the driver’s seat.
But he's been strangely quiet for a while now. Too quiet.
Izuku carefully sneaks a peek at Katsuki, whose head is bobbing up and down irregularly. He thinks he can hear some soft snoring. And most importantly, which is what clued Izuku in in the first place, there hasn’t been a single “tch” or “fucking Deku, watch where you’re going!” for the last half hour.
Katsuki is falling asleep, if not asleep already. The realization comes with a wave of relief.
At first, Izuku was slightly miffed that the week he spent poring over Internet articles and maps to New York would have been for nothing, but he’s grateful because it’s coming up handy now. There should be a 24-hour diner along their route, about twenty minutes away if he remembers correctly.
Plan more or less formed, Izuku steals another glance at Katsuki, who looks like he’s sleeping soundly.
Izuku exhales, unaware he was holding his breath. He does feel a little guilty. He knows this side trip is putting a small wrench into Katsuki’s straight-laced plans. But he’s going to pay it back! Once he’s had his meal (the first time in eleven hours —snacks don’t count!), he'll be happy to take some of Katsuki’s driving hours.
So really, Izuku is doing Katsuki a favor. A secret favor.
Before he can change his mind, the diner comes in sight. Hunger is winning over his better senses, and he’s almost shaking with relief as he pulls into the parking lot, as quietly as he can.
Maybe it’s the long and stuffy car ride, but the night breeze is especially cool tonight. Izuku happily stretches out his arms and legs, which have grown numb during the drive. He almost feels weak at the knees once he’s inside the diner— mmm , the comforting scent of diner food.
Izuku takes a seat at the furthest plush booth from the entrance (also coincidentally the closest to the kitchens) and calls for one of the waitresses. He swears he’ll order and finish quickly. He almost considered ordering takeout instead of eating in, but thought that Katsuki would hate the additional risk factor to the car more.
Not that his diner sidetrip is any better, but that’s not the point!
He’s a third of the way through his plate of katsudon when the diner doors blast open, an angry Katsuki storming in, red eyes blazing and darting around in search of Izuku. When Katsuki’s gaze reaches its target, he silently marches towards the table. The seething silence is somehow more terrifying than his angry outbursts in the car.
When Katsuki arrives, he grips the table and utters in the deadest voice imaginable, “Deku. What the fuck are you doing here.” It is not a question. “You’re supposed to be driving .”
Izuku is terrified, but he is also damn hungry. “Katsuki Bakugou, we’ve been on the road for over eleven hours. I’ve only had a Snickers bar to eat the entire time! You didn’t want to share your veggie shakes because it’s ‘ sharing saliva and gross.’ Please, please! Just let me have this. I’ll even drive for another hour more.”
Shock flits through Katsuki’s face before it settles on unreadable. For a minute, Izuku worries that he’d have to hitchhike to New York.
Eventually, Katsuki slowly pulls out a chair and sits, warily eyeing Izuku the whole way. He picks up the menu like it’s the last thing he wants to do, but browses anyway.
“Fine,” he eventually grumbles. “But you drive an additional two hours.”
Izuku’s seriously not in the mood to fight, plus even Katsuki sounds too tired, so he concedes. “Alright, but, can we stay here for thirty more minutes? Please? I’ll even treat you.”
Katsuki’s face is hidden by the menu, which Izuku thinks is on purpose. Maybe it’s the hunger, but it’s almost kind of cute, even. In a way that angry, hairless, and eternally barky Chihuahuas are cute. His fingers itch with the pressing need to doodle the thought, so it’s good that he left his things in the car, because Izuku won’t risk dying at Katsuki’s hands just yet.
“Whatever,” is the only thing Katsuki says, to Izuku’s relief.
Katsuki flags down the waitress to make an order, face utterly serious. “Hi. Give me a house salad, regular size. Do not use old croutons. They should be freshly made. I want the sesame dressing and nuts on the side, emphasis on “on the side,” because I need everything to be properly coated and only I can do that shit for myself. If you don’t have any pistachios, don’t bother putting any nuts at all.”
The waitress, what a champ, recites everything back word for word (minus the swear words) before leaving the table.
Izuku whistles, strangely impressed. “That was very… specific.”
Katsuki looks pointedly at Izuku. “I want things in a very specific way, including my food and especially my schedule. ”
Katsuki’s still glaring, but it seems to be softened from tiredness. Izuku thinks it’s safe to laugh. “Rules are made to be broken, Katsuki.”
“Tch, maybe for loser deadbeats like you. I set my own rules because they work.”
Izuku lets the insult slide, undeterred. “Hmm, if you say so.”
They eat in silence when Katsuki’s order comes. Izuku figures that that works well for Katsuki, who is apparently deathly allergic to any social interaction. Still, Izuku can’t help his curious nature. Especially about how Katsuki’s even friends with his girlfriend in the first place. How could such a happy person be friends with… an angry Chihuahua?
“So…” Izuku prompts. “How do you know Ochako?”
Katsuki’s look is dark, but he must be more tired than he lets on, because he answers more readily than in the car ride. “P.E. class. She was the only one who almost came close to beating my ass. We go to gym sometimes.”
“Oh, that makes sense! No wonder her ass is so great.”
Suddenly, Katsuki’s face reddens. He looks like he’s about to choke, before settling on a scowl. “What the actual fuck? Don’t say that so casually, asshole.”
“Oh, why not? It’s pretty normal in my circle of friends.”
“I don’t know what fucked up circle of friends you have, but I’m pretty sure it’s inappropriate to say shit like that.”
“Says the one with the mouth of a sailor,” Izuku says, sticking his tongue out for what must be the hundredth time that day.
Katsuki wipes his mouth, though Izuku notices that the blush hasn’t left his face yet. And his movements somehow look… stiffer.
The lightbulb clicks and he makes a wild guess.
“Katsuki! Don’t tell me you haven’t had sex, yet! We’ve graduated from college already.”
The red on Katsuki’s face further deepens but he mercifully does not yell. “It’s entirely by choice, dipshit. Relationships, sex, those are just distractions. This is a perfectly valid lifestyle, so suck it."
Izuku hurriedly scarfs down his food since Katsuki’s almost through with his own, despite starting later and eating more measured. Let’s say it was a very healthy bowl of katsudon. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's totally valid. Sorry if I implied otherwise. Though…” he says, considering and very casually. “If you would like to experience it, there’s a motel next door. I swing both ways.”
Maybe Izuku does have a death wish, teasing the blond like that, but he’s not blind and he knows that you never know unless you ask. Katsuki has a fantastic figure, even (or especially) when he picked up Izuku’s bags like he’d rather chuck them in a river than stow them in his car. Katsuki definitely went to the gym more than sometimes, and Izuku wouldn’t mind tapping that.
Katsuki really chokes now. He coughs out chunks of salad into his napkin before downing a whole glass of water, looking very exasperated the whole way. “Deku, what the actual fuck. You’re with Round Face, aren’t cha?”
“Yup! We have an open relationship, actually."
“Oh. My. God. No fucking thanks.”
At Katsuki’s look of disgust, Izuku quickly defends himself. “I’ll have you know I’m very, very safe and clean!”
“Still.” Katsuki plucks a napkin from Izuku’s end of the table, having used up all of his. “I repeat: no fucking thanks. I’m not interested now, and I’ll never be fucking interested.”
Izuku shrugs, shoveling the last few bites into his mouth. “If you say so, Kacchan.”
“Excuse me?” Katsuki bristles, truly living up to his angry Chihuahua spirit. Ultimately, Izuku decides that Katsuki is loud but harmless. Maybe. “Don’t be fucking cute with me.”
“Hm, I think it fits you! A cute nickname. Also, if you're calling me Deku, it's only fair that I give you your own nickname."
“Fuck you. You're driving for three hours.”
“Wah! That’s unfair.” Izuku pouts. And realizes he forgot something very important. “Let me order takeout!”
“You should have ordered earlier!”
After lots of badgering, Katsuki ends up allowing Izuku to order again, with the solemn promise that he will not spill anything in the car and if he does, he’ll pay double the cost of cleaning. The extra cost is what Katsuki called “stress from Deku expense.”
The rest of the trip is long runs of silence and occasional bickering. In the end, Izuku doesn’t drive the additional three hours promised, having almost crashed the car when his eyes drooped closed one too many times. Katsuki shoves him out of the way and takes the wheel, grunting that Izuku is a “stupid, useless Deku, who can’t even live up to his word.”
Regardless, Izuku attempts to make conversation, going on minutes-long spiels about the sights that they’re missing. Since Katsuki absolutely refuses to make any more stops, Izuku brings it on himself to enlighten his acquaintance with the wonders of Ohio. Though Katsuki only yells at him to shut up, or at best, grunts and huffs in silence.
Miraculously, they get to New York in one piece. Katsuki helps Izuku unload his luggage and unceremoniously heads back to his car.
“Here’s to never crossing paths again, Deku.”
Izuku waves for the both of them. “See you around, Kacchan!”