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The apartment complex buzzed with excitement as Izuku dragged Katsuki up the stairs, their footsteps echoing against the concrete. From the hallway, muffled music and laughter seeped through the cracks of Kirishima and Mina’s apartment door.
Katsuki scowled, clutching a pack of beer in one hand. “This is a waste of time. We could’ve stayed home.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku said, exasperated but grinning. “It’s New Year’s! You’re supposed to celebrate with friends.”
“Celebrate what? Another year of you pissing me off?” Katsuki muttered.
Izuku rolled his eyes. “You can’t start the year grumpy. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Tch.” Katsuki didn’t reply but didn’t turn around, either. When Izuku knocked, the door swung open almost immediately.
“Happy New Year!” Mina chirped, pulling Izuku into a quick hug before her eyes darted to Katsuki. “Wow, look who actually showed up!”
Katsuki grunted. “Woo fucking hoo.”
“Oh, hush. You’re here, and we’re making the most of it!” Mina spun on her heel, yelling over her shoulder. “Uraraka! Shots!”
Ochako appeared moments later, balancing a tray of shot glasses. “Welcome, guys!” She cheered, handing one to Izuku and shoving another into Katsuki’s reluctant grasp.
Izuku took his without hesitation, tilting his head back and swallowing it in one smooth motion. “Woo! That’s… strong,” he wheezed, eyes watering slightly. Katsuki sniffed at his, frowning.
“Stop sniffing it and drink!” Kaminari called from the couch, already lounging with a drink in hand.
Katsuki’s eye twitched, but before he could bark back, Kirishima appeared, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Glad you could make it, bro!”
“I’m not,” Katsuki replied flatly.
“Lighten up, man!” Kaminari laughed.
Izuku, already giggling, nudged Katsuki. “See? Fun.”
Katsuki downed the shot without a word, his face scrunching as the alcohol hit. He shoved the glass back at Ochako, grumbling. “There. Happy?”
“Thrilled,” Ochako said dryly before looping her arm through Izuku’s. “Come on, Deku, you’re with me and Shoto.”
“Wait, but—” Izuku’s protest was cut off as she whisked him away. Katsuki barely had time to register his absence before Mina was dragging him toward the kitchen.
“Time for drinking games, Bakugo! No sulking allowed.”
“I’m not sulking,” he snapped, but the corner of Mina’s grin said she didn’t believe him.
“Pizza box!” Kaminari cheered as Kirishima dropped an empty pizza box onto the table. A permanent marker was tossed around as everyone scribbled their names onto random spots.
“What’s this dumb game?” Katsuki asked, crossing his arms.
“Simple,” Kirishima explained. “You flip a coin onto the box. If it lands on a name, that person takes a shot. No exceptions!”
“And if I don’t want to?” Katsuki challenged.
“You can’t back out now, Bakugo!” Mina teased. “Too chicken?”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
The game began, and the first few rounds were tame— Kaminari, Mina, and Kirishima laughing as they took their shots. But then the coin flipped onto Katsuki’s name. Again. And again. And again. By the fifth time, Mina was in hysterics.
“This box is rigged,” Katsuki growled, slamming another shot.
“Dude, you’re cursed!” Kaminari wheezed.
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki snapped, his words slurring slightly.
“You don’t have to keep going,” Kirishima said, half-laughing, half-concerned.
“What, you think I’m too weak?” Katsuki shot back, grabbing the coin to flip it himself.
Naturally, it landed on him again.
Cheers erupted around the table as Katsuki begrudgingly downed yet another shot, muttering curses under his breath. His face was flushed, whether from the alcohol or frustration, no one could tell.
Across the room, Izuku found himself cornered by Ochako and Shoto. Ochako’s grin was mischievous as she swirled her drink. “So, Deku… Bakugo’s in a mood, huh?”
“He’s… fine,” Izuku said weakly, fiddling with the edge of his glass.
“Fine, sure,” she teased. “You guys are basically married, though, right?”
Izuku choked. “We are not—!”
“Married?” Shoto repeated, tilting his head. “I thought they were just… friends.”
Ochako snorted. “Oh, sweetie, no.”
“We’re not anything!” Izuku insisted, his face red as a tomato.
“Mmhmm.” Ochako smirked, sipping her drink as Shoto frowned thoughtfully.
-
It wasn’t long before everyone was shitfaced.
Katsuki stumbled out of the bathroom, muttering under his breath as the living room lights hit him like a punch, and he immediately zeroed in on a familiar green mop of hair near the kitchen. “‘Zuku,” he slurred, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Oi, nerd.”
He weaved through the crowd, one hand gripping a half-empty beer. When he reached his target, he draped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in close. “Listen,” Katsuki started, voice low and gravelly. “You’re lucky I’m drunk, nerd, or I’d never say this, but you’re—fuck—so… cute.” He laughed under his breath. “Stupid, but cute.”
The guy turned his head, revealing a face that was definitely not Izuku’s. His eyes were wide with confusion but also a touch of intrigue as he glanced at Katsuki. “Uh… thanks?”
Across the room, Izuku froze mid-sentence, his drink teetering dangerously in his hand. “Who’s that?” he slurred, narrowing his eyes as he leaned toward Ochako.
“Oh no,” Ochako muttered, glancing between Izuku and Katsuki.
Izuku blinked, swaying slightly. “Why’s Kacchan— why’s he with that guy?” His voice rose with each word, drawing attention from Shoto, who stood stone-faced but intrigued.
“Deku, maybe just—” Ochako started, but it was too late.
“I’m gonna fight this bitch,” Izuku declared, slamming his drink down on the nearest table.
“Deku, no!” Ochako grabbed his arm, but Izuku was already stumbling forward, his face red with alcohol-fueled determination and jealousy.
Izuku stomped across the room, his curls bouncing with each step as he approached Katsuki and the poor, unsuspecting imposter. Katsuki was leaning heavily on the guy, who looked equal parts flustered and amused.
“Kacchan!” Izuku’s voice cracked, his eyes glossy and swimming with unshed tears. He jabbed a finger at the scene in front of him. “What are you doing?!”
“What’s it look like? I’m talkin’ to you, dumbass.” Katsuki blinked at him, his drunken brain taking a second to process. “Why are you yelling at yourself?”
Izuku’s jaw dropped. “That’s not me!”
Katsuki squinted at the imposter, his eyes darting over the guy’s face. He grabbed the guy by the chin, tilting his head and inspecting his face. “Huh. Not enough freckles.” His eyes widened as the realization hit. “Oh, shit.”
Izuku, now fully unhinged, pointed dramatically at the guy. “Hands off my Kacchan, broccoli hair!” he shouted before lunging forward.
Chaos erupted as Ochako grabbed Izuku around the waist, dragging him back. “Deku, no! You can’t fight people at a party!”
Kirishima appeared out of nowhere, wedging himself between Katsuki, the imposter, and the flailing Izuku. “Alright, alright, everyone chill out!” His voice boomed over the commotion. Katsuki, still looking baffled, swayed slightly as Kirishima clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Dude, bedroom. Now.” Kirishima steered Katsuki toward the hallway, ignoring his grumbled protests. “You’re way too drunk for this.”
Ochako struggled to drag Izuku along behind them, his arms flailing as he shouted, “I wasn’t done! He touched Kacchan!”
“Deku, I swear to god,” Ochako groaned, shoving him through the door behind Kirishima.
Kirishima turned to the two drunken disasters now wobbling in the middle of the room. “Alright, you guys. Work this out. Or take a nap. Or whatever.” He pointed a finger at them for emphasis. “No more fighting. Okay?”
With that, he and Ochako stepped out, closing the door firmly behind them.
“You’re such an idiot, Kacchan!” Izuku slurred, wobbling as he tried to glare at Katsuki.
“You’re the one yelling over nothing, you damn nerd!” Katsuki snapped back, his voice more frustrated than sharp. He grabbed at Izuku’s arm to steady him, but the pull threw both of them off balance.
With a thud, they toppled onto the bed in a tangled heap.
“Get off me!” Izuku groaned, his face buried in Katsuki’s shoulder.
“You get off, dumbass!” Katsuki shot back, but he didn’t move. His hand stayed firmly on Izuku’s back, keeping him in place.
“I hate you,” Izuku muttered, turning his head to avoid looking at Katsuki’s dumb, smug face.
“Yeah, well, I hate you more,” Katsuki grumbled. His grip loosened, his hand shifting to rest at the small of Izuku’s back. “Now quit squirming and just... stay here, will you?”
Izuku froze for a moment, blinking in confusion.
“Why do you always... make things so complicated?” Katsuki muttered, his words slurring a little.
Izuku huffed, still pouting. “You’re the complicated one.”
“And you’re annoying as hell,” Katsuki shot back. “Now shut up and... cuddle or somethin’.”
“You’re the worst,” Izuku murmured as his eyelids drooped, but he didn’t pull away when Katsuki’s arm looped around his waist. Begrudgingly, he let himself sink into Katsuki’s warmth.
“Uh-huh. Sure,” Katsuki mumbled, his voice already trailing off into the hazy fog of sleep.
The room fell quiet as the two of them drifted off, tangled together in the aftermath of their bickering.
-
When Katsuki woke up, the room was dim except for the soft glow of a lamp someone must’ve left on. His head throbbed faintly, and the taste of stale alcohol clung to his tongue. He blinked a few times, groaning as he reached for his phone tangled in the sheets.
11:47 PM. Damn, they’d been out for a while.
Bits and pieces of earlier flashed in his mind— the yelling, the fight, the way he’d practically begged Izuku to stay put and cuddle with him. Katsuki groaned again, this time out of embarrassment. What the hell was wrong with him?
Then he noticed the bed was empty.
His heart skipped a beat. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Where the hell had that idiot wandered off to? Katsuki dragged himself out of bed, running a hand through his messy hair. The sounds of the party still going strong filtered in from the living room as he stumbled back toward the chaos.
And then he saw him.
A hand shook Katsuki’s shoulder. “Rise and shine, man!” Kirishima said, far too cheery for the hour— or Katsuki’s pounding head.
“Piss off,” Katsuki groaned, swatting Kirishima’s hand away. His voice was scratchy, and his eyes squinted against the bright lights of the party. “How long’s he been like this?”
Kirishima shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “A bit.”
With a string of muttered curses, he pushed through the crowd, his scowl deepening with every step. The party was still going full force, the apartment even more packed than before. As Katsuki shoved his way through, he grabbed a random bottle from a table and took a swig, hoping it’d numb the dull ache in his skull.
Music thumped through the walls of the apartment, the bass rattling an assortment of mismatched cups scattered across Kirishima and Mina’s coffee table. Someone— probably Kaminari— had spilled a cocktail all over the couch, and Mina was half-heartedly scrubbing at it with a towel while laughing too hard to actually clean it up.
And right in the middle of it all, perched precariously on top of the coffee table, was Izuku, arms crossed like a defiant five-year-old.
“Izuku, get the fuck down before you crack your skull open!” Katsuki’s voice rang out, cutting through the music and chatter. He stood at the edge of the table, one hand on his hip, the other clutching the half-empty bottle of whiskey like he might just start swinging it at any moment.
Izuku didn’t flinch. Instead, he puffed out his flushed cheeks in a dramatic pout. “No! I’m staying right here!”
“For fuck’s sake…” Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded like a threat against Izuku’s entire bloodline. He slammed back a shot, grimacing as the burn hit his throat, then poured himself another one for good measure.
Izuku’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he spotted the bottle. “Ooh, I want one!” He pointed, nearly toppling over in the process, and Katsuki had to steady him with one hand to keep him from face-planting into the floor.
“No. You definitely don’t need any more,” Katsuki grumbled, but Izuku just kept staring at him with the most ridiculous pout Katsuki had ever seen. “Fine,” he snapped, grabbing a shot glass. “Here.”
He poured a shot of water, shoved it into Izuku’s hands, and stepped back.
Izuku threw it back, then smacked his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm… that shot tasted funny. Did you spike it, Kacchan?”
Katsuki’s eye twitched. “It’s water, you dumbass. Now get off the goddamn table.”
But Izuku only giggled, swaying a little as he crouched down to Katsuki’s eye level. “Kacchan… you’re my favorite person, you know that?”
Katsuki froze, mouth halfway open to yell at him again.
“And!” Izuku straightened up suddenly, wobbling so much that Kirishima, standing a few feet away, instinctively held his arms out to catch him. “Everyone! I have an announcement to make!”
Heads turned. Mina paused mid-scrub, Ochako leaned in with wide, eager eyes, and Kaminari nearly choked on his drink trying not to laugh.
“Kacchan is amazing!” Izuku declared, his voice cutting through the music. “And! We’re gonna get married!”
The room exploded.
“Hell yeah!” Kaminari whooped, raising his glass.
“Congrats, bro!” Kirishima hollered, slapping Katsuki so hard on the back that he almost spilled his drink.
Ochako clapped her hands together. “Can I be the flower girl?”
Izuku frowned, teetering slightly as he gave her question far more thought than it deserved. “No, Eri is.”
“Can I officiate then?”
“Nuh uh.” Izuku’s tone was resolute as he shook his head, curls bouncing. “All Might will.”.
Katsuki froze, staring up at Izuku like he’d grown a second head. The nerd really thought this through. His chest felt tight, and not from the alcohol, but from something else entirely.
The idiot was grinning, drunk off his ass and completely oblivious to the chaos he’d unleashed, and Katsuki could only stand there, trying not to choke on the heat creeping up his neck.
Meanwhile, the room had devolved into drunken cheers and cackles. Mina was doubled over, her phone out recording, while Shoto, who had been quietly nursing a glass of champagne in the corner, raised his drink in a wistful silent toast.
Katsuki’s face burned hotter than the fireworks popping outside. His hands clenched around the bottle so tightly it was a miracle it hadn’t shattered.
“We are not getting married, you idiots!” he bellowed, but his voice cracked halfway through, and the room only laughed harder.
“Fucking hell…” Katsuki muttered, glaring daggers at the group as he turned back to the table. He threw back another shot, then another, because there was no way he was getting through this sober.
And yet, as he downed the shots, his eyes flicked back to Izuku— still standing on the damn coffee table, still swaying dangerously, still grinning like a fool. Katsuki hated how the sight made his chest feel tighter, and most of all, hated that the idiot would probably forget all of this by morning.
Somewhere in the chaos, the music cut off, replaced by a slurred chant:
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
The apartment erupted. Kaminari was on the couch, shaking up a bottle of champagne. Mina was yelling something about fireworks while launching confetti into the air with both hands. Kirishima dodged the streamers flying his way, shouting a cheerful “bring it on!” like he was in the middle of a sparring match. Ochako ducked behind a chair, laughing as Shoto stared blankly at the madness, a sparkler clutched in one hand like he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
Izuku, still stubbornly swaying on the coffee table, threw his hands up in celebration. “Happy New—oops—wait, not yet!” he giggled, teetering dangerously close to the edge.
“Four! Three!”
Katsuki’s drink clattered onto the table as he darted forward, instinct overriding annoyance. “Oi, nerd, don’t you fucking—”
“TWO!”
Izuku crouched and sprang forward like he was jumping into the arms of a damn prince in some fairytale.
“ONE!”
Katsuki caught him in a stumbling, barely-balanced save, his hands locking around Izuku’s waist as they both wobbled dangerously. “Fucking hell, Izuku!” he growled, stumbling backward under the weight, though his voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of:
“Happy New Year!”
Fireworks cracked and popped outside. Kaminari, laughing uncontrollably, popped the champagne, spraying it all over Kirishima. Mina threw even more confetti. Ochako set off a party popper straight into Shoto’s face, making him slowly blink in confusion.
Katsuki didn’t notice any of it. He was too busy keeping Izuku upright.
Izuku leaned into him, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling with a mix of booze and joy. “Kacchan…” he started, his voice sing-songy and entirely too pleased with himself.
“What now?” Katsuki muttered, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up his neck.
Izuku grinned, lopsided and soft, his weight pressing closer against Katsuki. “Happy New Year,” he said, then leaned in and kissed him.
The world stilled, even as the chaos roared around them. Izuku’s lips were warm and slightly sticky with whatever sugary drink he’d been downing earlier. Izuku smiled into the kiss, fingers curling into Katsuki’s shirt.
When Izuku finally pulled back, his grin was wider, sweeter, and impossibly stupid. “Told you you’re my favorite,” he mumbled, resting his forehead against Katsuki’s.
Katsuki’s grip tightened instinctively, his mouth opening to snap something back, but nothing came out. Somewhere behind them, Kaminari was yelling, “Holy shit, finally!” while Mina wolf-whistled.
“...You’re such a dumbass,” Katsuki muttered eventually, voice low enough that only Izuku could hear.
Izuku just giggled again, letting his weight sag fully against Katsuki, who was too stunned—or maybe too tipsy—to shove him off. Around them, the noise of the party was starting to swell again, people losing interest in the spectacle. Kaminari had already returned to his drunken antics, loudly proclaiming himself the “champagne god,” while Ochako hollered something about sparklers.
Katsuki sighed, his grip firm on Izuku’s waist as he muttered, “Don’t puke on me, nerd.”
Izuku snorted, his voice muffled where his face was pressed against Katsuki’s shoulder. “I won’t, I promise.” He paused, his words softening. “And thanks for catching me.”
Katsuki huffed, his blush creeping all the way to his ears. “Somebody’s gotta,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
Izuku grinned sleepily against him, his reply barely audible over the chaos around them. “Love you too, Kacchan.”