Chapter Text
“Bakugou!”
Katsuki freezes, glaring up from the textbook splayed out in front of him. It’s only the first day of classes, but there is so much to do if he wants to stay ahead of the rest of his class. His eyes narrow in on the two people hurrying over to his table. Kaminari and Jirou.
“I didn’t know you were gonna be coming here I thought you were going to be at - shit, what was the name of that school?” Kaminari says, scratching his head as he casually reminds Katsuki of his own failures. Well, not his academic failures. Financially, he means. It hurts his damn pride that he’s not at some big four-year Ivy-League school, but realistically his family just couldn’t afford it out of pocket. He didn't get enough in scholarship money and his mother refused to let him take out loans.
“I decided it was more practical to go to a community college,” he shrugs, pretending like he didn’t cry himself to sleep the night he finally made his decision. “I’m not about to waste money on a big school when I don’t have to.”
They both sit down across from him at the table he had procured for himself.
“Yeah, honestly,” Jirou sighs, propping her chin against her hands. “Totally cool that you’re here, though. I’ve seen a lot of people around from high school.”
Katsuki frowns and makes a dry-heaving gesture.
“What’s wrong with you?” Kaminari laughs.
“I don’t want to fucking think about high school,” he scoffs, thinking back to all the terrible memories of cliques and drama and trivial things that Katsuki was definitely never caught up in. He didn’t care for the drama of who was dating who. Or who was a nerd or a jock. All of the popular kids were off at parties and worrying about that shit.
Not Katsuki.
Katsuki was a productive member of the debate team in high school and graduated at the top of his class. Even still, he is determined to stay a top-notch student, make the Dean’s list every semester, and then graduate with highest honors.
“Dude I hear ya,” Kaminari laughs, his voice distant like he’s not totally listening. Katsuki shakes his head and looks down at his textbook again.
“Shit, remember Midoriya and them?” Jirou snickers, nodding off in another direction. Katsuki stiffens and steals a quick glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, that stupid jock Midoriya is there, sitting at another table with a few other too-familiar faces from high school.
“Who fucking cares?” he groans.
“He definitely got even bigger over the summer,” Kaminari says to Jirou, ignoring Katsuki’s complaints. Katsuki sneaks in another quick look. It’s just a reflex. He doesn’t care. But, the idiot’s white t-shirt is alarmingly tight around his biceps. Katsuki quickly looks away again and hides his shame.
“He’s on the football team again, I think,” Jirou adds.
“This school has a football team?” Katsuki scoffs. Jirou shrugs.
“I guess so,” she sighs.
“Stop looking at them, you weirdos,” he snaps. “They don’t need any more attention than they already get.”
That’s all high school ever felt like. Midoriya and his idiot friends would get obscene amounts of praise for throwing a fucking ball and being hot. Where is Katsuki’s varsity jacket for getting straight-As his entire life? Where is his plaque that memorializes every debate he’s ever won?
The difference between Katsuki and people like Midoriya Izuku is that he works hard and doesn’t need recognition for it. He doesn’t need praise at every turn and he certainly doesn’t need people crushing on him like they do with Midoriya.
Not that he would know anything about that.
He’s just heard about people having crushes on him.
“Whatever, I gotta get to my next class soon. What’s your schedule like, Bakugou?” Kaminari asks, finally ignoring the idiots in the corner and focusing back on their own table. Katsuki lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.
“I’ve got Biology at one,” he sighs, taking out the piece of paper he had printed for himself to stay organized with his schedule. “The rest of my classes are all in the mornings.”
“Oh, jeez, why would you do that to yourself?” Jirou asks, taking the paper from him and looking over it.
“If I get all my coursework in, then I have plenty of time in the afternoons to get homework and shit done,” he explains. Duh. Who cares if he has to wake up just as early as he did in high school? He’s not about to sleep in and waste hours of what could be a productive day.
“Well, whatever works for you,” Kaminari says. “You’re still so intense.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? This is college. It’s not fucking high school anymore, this is serious shit,” Katsuki insists, feeling himself getting worked up again. “Whatever, I’m fine with whatever I’m doing.”
“Yeah, sure,” he sighs. “I get you about the high school stuff, though. I am trying not to beat myself up about grades the same way I used to. I want to try new things.”
“Me too,” Jirou says. “I was too awkward in high school to even think about some of the things I want to do.”
“Like what?” Kaminari asks, humoring her. Katsuki watches them interact with his lips pulled tight together. It’s pretty ironic that they’re both going on about branching out and trying new things when both of them have separately confided in Katsuki about their feelings for each other.
Jirou has had a crush on Kaminari for at least a year, and Kaminari on Jirou for at least two. They’re both two of his best (only) friends, but it’s annoying to listen to them go on and on about this crap when they’re going through the same pining idiot bullshit from before.
“Jirou thinks you're hot, just ask her out already,” Katsuki blurts. Jirou chokes mid- sentence, her face turning bright red.
“What the fuck, Katsuki?!” she shouts, clearly embarrassed. Katsuki screws his mouth shut, suddenly wondering if he had miscalculated his words. Sure enough, Jirou is stomping away from the table just as quickly as she came.
“Dude, not cool,” Kaminari says, then lowers his voice. “Wait, are you serious?”
Katsuki glances in the direction that she left in and shrugs.
“Shit, I’m gonna go talk to her, see you later, man,” he says, getting up and following her. A twinge of guilt twists in Katsuki’s stomach, but he’s able to shove it away enough to assure himself that he did a good thing.
They were totally clueless about their own feelings and needed this push, right? Katsuki doesn't need to feel bad about doing something that is ultimately for the benefit and happiness of his friends.
Yeah.
Katsuki is the first one to arrive in his Biology 101 course. He sits in the front row and has his notebook and pen out and ready to take notes. He has already witnessed his peers using laptops to record notes. Katsuki can’t help but wonder if they even know that writing them down is proven by research to help retain audial information more efficiently? Tch. Losers.
The professor is a middle-aged man who barely even acknowledges that Katsuki is there. Katsuki raises his hand. The man looks around the otherwise empty classroom and sighs.
“You don’t have to raise your hand if you’re the only one here,” he says. “What do you want.”
Katsuki frowns. Not the attitude he is hoping for from a professor.
“I just wanted to introduce myself. Bakugou Katsuki,” he says, sitting up straight in his seat. The man just nods, not seeming too blown away by the information. Katsuki swallows. It doesn’t matter anyway. As long as the professor at least knows his name. That’s the best bet for getting a good grade in the class and not falling behind.
He stays stiff in his seat as other students start to file in just minutes before class starts. Seats fill up and Katsuki secretly hopes that no one stupid fills the seat next to him.
He sighs in relief as the seat remains empty even as the clock strikes 1:00. He relaxes just a bit as the professor starts class.
“Good Afternoon, my name is Professor Aizawa, this is Biology 101, please make sure you are in the right place,” he says, his voice flat as he boots up a slideshow presentation. Katsuki watches the slideshow eagerly for information worth taking notes on. “I know you all have heard this all day, so I’m going to skip going over the syllabus because you all know how to read -”
Katsuki’s hand shoots up again.
“Yes - what’s your name?” he asks, and Katsuki feels mildly offended that he doesn’t remember that he just told him.
“Bakugou Katsuki,” he says quickly. “Aren’t you required to go over the syllabus?”
“Does it matter?” he sighs.
“Yes, I want to be informed about course expectations,” he sighs. “And you should want, as well, if you don’t I have every right to complain to the department head that I didn’t feel adequately prepared for this class.”
Professor Aizawa just blinks, probably rendered speechless by how responsible Katsuki is as a student. Has he ever had such a good student before? Probably fucking not.
“How many of you would feel inadequately prepared if I decided not to spend thirty minutes essentially telling you not to cheat?” Professor Aizawa addresses the class. The way he words the question is not fair at all, but Katsuki frowns and raises his hand. He looks around the classroom at all of the faces frowning at him. He blinks and turns back around at the smug-looking man in front of him. “I think that settles it.”
“Are you taking attendance?” Katsuki changes the subject, not letting the embarrassment show past the redness in his ears.
“No, you’re all adults now. This isn’t high school. If you want to skip class, waste your money, and fail, that’s on you and not me,” he says, matter-of-fact. And while he is correct, Katsuki secretly wishes he could get a grade for showing up to class. He can definitely do that.
Just when Katsuki feels like he’s about to explode from frustration, the door to the classroom bursts open and in walks the beefy green-haired jock that Katsuki never hoped to share a classroom with.
He’s still wearing that stupid white t-shirt that clearly doesn’t fit him. Doesn’t even carry a backpack.
And he has the audacity to sit in the empty seat next to Katsuki.
“Sorry!” he mumbles to Professor Aizawa without explanation.
“I will, however, get annoyed if you make a habit of being late and interrupt class,” Aizawa points out, eyeing an oblivious Midoriya.
“Sorry, again, I lost track of time!” he explains. Aizawa rolls his eyes. Katsuki hopes that this means Midoriya will be liked even less than Katsuki clearly already is.
Midoriya barely fits in the desk next to Katsuki’s. But still, he slouches back and spreads his legs, clearly making himself comfortable. Katsuki personally can’t stand when guys sit like that. The manspreading. His junk can’t possibly be so big that he needs that much room to spread out.
Katsuki glances over again. Then again, Midoriya is rather large, maybe he is-
Fuck!
What is he thinking?!
He is in class.
Katsuki frowns and focuses on the screen in front of him as hard as he can, desperately trying to ward off any unwanted thoughts about whether or not the guy sitting next to him has a big dick. Katsuki is better than this!
Professor Aizawa starts going over actual subject material, and Katsuki finds relief in that. He can focus on the information presented and take notes. Nice, neat, notes that help him focus.
Towards the end of class, he makes another announcement.
“As you know, this class also has labs that you need to complete. Your lab time for this course is on Tuesday and on Thursday, and you will be assigned a partner,” he explains. Katsuki’s chest tightens. He absolutely despises partner work.
He raises his hand.
“Bakugou,” he sighs.
“Do we have to work with a partner?” he asks. It’s subtle, but Katsuki swears that Professor Aizawa grins.
“Yes, you do,” he sighs. “And no, you do not get to pick your partners.”
At least that one earns some groans from other students as well. Katsuki swallows and sits back in his chair. His palms are sweaty and he feels like he’s about to explode.
He goes through the class list one by one, marking notes and names on his clipboard. When he gets to Katsuki’s name he stops, glances around the classroom, and then back to his clipboard. Katsuki is left wondering why the hell he’s putting so much thought into who Katsuki’s lab partner is going to be.
“Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku,” he says, and Katsuki’s soul leaves his body almost immediately.
“Cool!” the idiot jock next to him says. He has the audacity to flash him a bright smile, like he’s okay with being Katsuki’s partner. Probably because he remembers Katsuki from high school. Knows that he gets good grades and will make him do all of the work. Fucking typical.
“Anyway, these partners are going to be your lab partners for the rest of the semester. In the past, students have found it helpful to exchange phone numbers or school emails to stay in touch about assignments,” he explains. “And, that’s all I have for you today, I will see you in the lab tomorrow afternoon.”
Katsuki groans internally and folds up his notebook. This really is just stupid. He would be able to get through the stupid lab just fine without this crap.
“Hey! Bakugou, right?” Midoriya speaks. Katsuki blinks and turns to him, eyes immediately noticing the taut fabric of his shirt. It’s pulled so tight that it’s almost see-through. He can see his damn nipples!
“Yes.” He clears his throat.
It’s not Katsuki’s fault that Midoriya is objectively attractive. It’s basic human biology for Katsuki’s body to have physiological reactions to the other man. It doesn’t mean anything. And he certainly isn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“I thought so, I’ve seen you around before,” he hums, pulling his phone from his pocket. Katsuki pretends not to notice the way even the muscles in his hands ripple under his skin as he taps at the screen. “Here, put your number in.”
“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbles, taking the phone from him and entering in his information.
“Sweet. I’ll text you so you have mine,” he says. He seems nice enough, but Katsuki knows what he can expect from the guy.
Nothing. That’s what.
“Just so you know, I fully intend on getting an A in this class, and I won’t accept anything less. So if you’re going to just make me do all the work, save us both the stress and just let me know now so I can plan ahead,” he says. Heat is rising in his face, his heart racing. It doesn't feel good to be so confrontational, but he also can’t stomach the idea of his entire grade plummeting because of something he has no control over.
He can control how much he studies. He can control how much effort he puts into himself and into class.
He cannot control whether or not other people pull their weight.
“Don’t worry about it!” Deku says, smiling sweetly. His smile is too damn big for his stupid face. “I also intend to get an A!”
And then he gets up and leaves the classroom like the cocky motherfucker he is.
---------
When Katsuki’s day ends, he takes the bus home and immediately runs upstairs to his room to put his books away. As soon as the door to his room is shut, he can breathe easier than he could all day. He’s not sure why that is.
His jaw is sore, too.
But even still, he feels a little less tension in his body when he’s in his room. He can lay back on his bed and spread out. He can roll onto his side and stare at his collection of All Might figurines stacked expertly on the shelf above his desk. The comic books that line the bookshelves next to his desk.
He’s had his room neat and decorated exactly the way he wants it to look for years now. Nobody else touches his room. It’s like his own little sanctuary.
“Katsuki!”
He flinches as his own mother’s voice rings out from somewhere else in the house. If only the room could be sound-proofed.
He untucks his shirt and gets up from the bed, venturing out into the hallway to see what she wants.
“Katsuki! How many times do I have to call your name?!” she shouts again. Katsuki grits his teeth and hurries down the stairs to find his mother chopping vegetables in the kitchen.
“Yeah?” he grunts.
“You didn’t tell me you were home yet,” she says, sharply. Katsuki blinks, and she doesn’t give him a chance to respond. “How was your first day of school?”
“It was fine,” he says.
“Just fine?”
“Yeah.” He holds his breath.
“I better not see anything less than a 4.0 at the end of the semester,” she warns. “I know kids like to slack off and party in college but that is not going to happen, you hear me?”
Katsuki manages to swallow his urge to ask her when he has ever in his entire life gotten less than a perfect GPA. But he’s in no mood to start a screaming match.
“Of course.”
“I mean it, Katsuki,” she sighs. “Do you have homework?”
“Yes,” he lies. If he says no, she’ll demand to see his syllabus or make him do something menial to pass the time. “I’ll probably be in my room for a while - when’s dinner?”
“In an hour,” she replies. “Go do your homework.”
Katsuki nods and hurries back to his room, locking himself in and enjoying the little time he has to himself.
------
Katsuki scowls as he stands next to Midoriya at the lab table. They aren’t even really working on anything yet. Professor Aizawa is just going over all of the safety guidelines for being in the lab. Where to get safety goggles. Where to put materials. How to clean. What to do if you accidentally lick hydrochloric acid off the table.
“This packet is an assessment to make sure you were actually listening to what I was telling you today. I don’t want any trouble in the class, and I certainly don’t want to have to fill out documentation for if any of you happen to lose an eye,” Professor Aizawa explains, his voice laced with agitation. He sends around a stack of papers - one packet passed to each pair. As soon as the packet is placed on Katsuki’s table, he snatches it up.
“Whoa!” Midoriya chuckles, caught off guard by Katsuki’s aggressive gesture. “I can’t see the paper if you’re holding it like that.”
Katsuki frowns, pulling out a stool so he can sit down while he scans over the directions.
“This is a test,” he reminds him. He’s not risking his own grade by letting this dumb jock have a say in what the answers are.
“Yes? And we’re partners. He said to work together,” he reminds him. Katsuki lets out a dramatic huff and continues to start marking on the paper without consulting Midoriya. That is, until a large hand covers his own and forces him to stop.
His nostrils flare as he looks up to find green eyes staring back at him. His stupid eyes are unfairly big and pleading. Like a puppy. A stupid puppy.
“Bakugou, let me help,” he insists. “It’s like you think I’m stupid or something.”
Katsuki almost laughs.
“Not like you care,” he mumbles.
“I do care. This is just as much my grade as it is yours,” he reminds him. Katsuki takes a deep breath in.
“You don’t fucking get it,” he grunts, trying to pry his hand away from Midoriya’s grasp. Stupid idiot.
“No? Ah, I’m really confused. Did I do something to you?” he asks, finally taking his hand away. He lets out a nervous chuckle, sounding light and airy even through his nerves. He has no business sounding like that.
“No,” he snaps.
“Then let me,” he insists, grabbing at the paper. Katsuki frowns and slams his hand down against it, holding the packet to the table.
His stomach drops as he hears the paper tear.
“Oh fuck,” Katsuki hisses, looking at the front page of the test that has been ripped neatly in two. His throat feels tight. “What the fuck did you do?! You stupid useless -”
“Whoa, hey, that wasn’t my fault, Kacchan,” he says defensively. Katsuki stalls momentarily, blindsided by the random nickname that takes him back to his kindergarten days.
“What?”
“Ah, sorry, that slipped,” he sighs. “I really don’t think I’ve talked to you since elementary school. You must still be Kacchan in my head.”
“Well, get it out of your dumb head,” he sputters, his face getting hotter and hotter with embarrassment. Again, a completely logical reaction to a large, objectively attractive man calling him a cute nickname.
“I like it, though,” he sighs, then raises his hand.
“Everything okay over there?” Professor Aizawa says, addressing Midoriya’s hand.
“Ah, our test ripped, can I get another one, please?” he asks sweetly. Professor Aizawa sighs again and passes along a new, not-ripped, test.
Katsuki blinks at the new test Midoriya has in front of him. Watches cautiously as Midoriya scribbles both of their names at the top of the paper. Katsuki notices the way that Midoriya doesn’t have to ask him to spell his name. He already knows.
He doesn’t know why, but he does.
“Alright, Kacchan, what do you think for number one?” he asks, smiling at him like they weren’t just arguing over a piece of paper ten seconds ago. Katsuki blinks and leans over to read the question.
“It’s A,” he says, quietly. “Why are you still calling me that?”
“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” he says. “It’s cute.”
Oh.
“Well, fine,” he sputters, getting flustered all over again. “If you’re gonna call me a stupid nickname, then I get to call you a stupid nickname, too.”
Logic.
“Sure, Kacchan.”
“Okay . . . fucking . . . Deku,” he forces out, jumping to the only thing that comes to his mind. Midoriya puzzles for a moment, and then laughs.
“I’ll take it!” he chuckles. “Okay, how about number two?”
It takes a lot to calm himself down, but he’s pleasantly surprised to find that he doesn’t disagree with any of Midoriya - Deku’s answers. He still doesn’t trust or even like the guy, but at least the test could have gone way worse.
Once they finish, Deku takes the test and turns it in to Professor Aizawa, and they’re free to go. Katsuki packs up his bags and walks with an awkwardly large amount of space between them to the exit.
“Izuku!”
Katsuki can’t help but look up when someone calls that name. One of Deku’s friends. A cheerleader with pink hair.
“Hey, Mina,” he smiles. “What’s up?”
Katsuki lowers his head and walks away in the opposite direction, not wanting to seem like he’s eavesdropping on their conversation. He can’t wait to get away from Deku anyway.
“Bye, Kacchan!” Deku calls after him.
Katsuki turns back, giving a wary look to the other man. He’s smiling and waving. Katsuki bites his bottom lip again and quickly turns away without saying anything.