Chapter Text
Tame. The word could be used to describe many things.
This town, for starters, where the most out of pocket thing that'd happened in the past month was a new brand of toothpaste being stocked at the grocery store. Izuku’s summer, for another, which he'd spent flitting between the two constants of working and studying, and doing very little in between that could actually be construed as fun.
And yeah, if he was being totally honest with himself, tame was probably the best way to describe his entirely run-of-the-mill adolescence to date.
Dull, humdrum, mundane - all words that worked too. Ultimately, it was a case of every day feeling more or less the same, however you wanted to phrase it.
Setting down his pen with a sigh, Izuku glanced out through the window and counted every overly familiar detail; the same generic, tree-lined street he’d looked out on each day for the past seventeen years, the same identical-looking houses he’d passed a thousand times as he cycled to school, the same -
He paused, mid internal monologue, mildly taken aback to find himself confronted by something that was entirely unfamiliar: the sight of a U-Haul rolling to a halt beside the immaculate lawn of the house next door.
New neighbours.
The rumble of the engine cut out and the driver’s side door opened, a large man with glasses stepping briskly down from the cab. Izuku squinted through the window, doing his best to peer through glass already fogged by his own breath, furrowing his brow to get a better look. He watched as the man turned and placed hands on his hips, chest rising in what looked to be a sigh of contentment as he admired his new home.
Behind him, the door on the other side of the cabin popped open, an assortment of fast-food containers scattering to the floor as it did so. A foot dropped to the floor amidst the greasy debris, and Izuku’s heart skittered a little when the long, denim-clad leg it was attached to came into view. Door slamming shut with a thunk, a sullen-faced blonde boy was revealed from behind it, hands bunched deep into the pockets of a bomber jacket.
Where Izuku’s heart had skittered before, it all but stopped beating at the sight of him. He was freaking gorgeous.
Trying to swallow down the swarm of butterflies threatening a riot in his stomach, Izuku gazed down in awe. He could make out the boy’s grimace even from the safe confines of his bedroom, a scowl twisting his pretty face so far in on itself it almost looked uncomfortable. The boy threw a quick, dismissive glance up and down the street, eyes skimming back and forth over the panel-fronted houses that made up suburbia, aiming a kick at a soda can that sent it bouncing across the asphalt.
Can’t really blame him for that.
Before Izuku had a chance to react, the boy turned, eyes flicking up to the now fully steamed window through which Izuku was observing. Sharp, defiant eyes met his own, an even deeper frown descending over golden brows.
Oh shit. Busted.
Izuku spun away, back to the wall, breaths pulling sharp and shallow into his lungs. Shit, shit, shit again. He bunched his eyes closed, counting each second until he reached a full two minutes, only then daring to peek his head back around the corner. When he did, all that he saw was the U-Haul, standing unaccompanied against the verge.
A bubble of laughter rose from his throat at his own theatrics and Izuku shook his head, flushing out the icy panic that had swept through his system.
Maybe this year was about to get a little more interesting than he’d anticipated.
Later, after several movers had arrived to carry box after box into the neighbours’ house with the practised efficiency of a colony of ants, Izuku finally stirred from his focus. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand over eyes tired from the hours spent staring at his calculus textbook, the ghosts of mathematical notations looming out from the darkness.
Great, that meant he’d be dreaming about them for sure, would wake in the middle of the night with integrals spiralling round his brain. If his dreams weren’t filled with something altogether more stimulating, that is.
Izuku hadn’t seen the boy again since they’d locked eyes, despite regular breaks from studying to peep over the window ledge in the hope of glimpsing those pretty-boy features (the angry expression, not so much). He’d vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, the only trace of his presence the assortment of garbage unceremoniously abandoned on the road. And even that was gone when the man with glasses carefully swept it away.
Chair scraping across the ground as he stood, Izuku stretched his arms above his head, wandering to the window that looked directly across the alley between the two houses. On the same storey, across the way, was a window of a similar size, a pair of floral curtains fluttering idly in the cool September breeze.
Izuku gazed at it, wondering which of the two men he'd seen earlier would be the room's new occupant. As if somehow sensing the question, the sash of the window slammed to the sill, a pair of fiery eyes boring into Izuku so intensely he could almost swear his skin began to sizzle. Frozen to the spot, blood rushing directly into his face, Izuku stared wide-eyed at suntanned skin and cut-glass cheekbones.
Determined not to pull away this time, he reached for a notebook, fumbling his hand across the nearest shelf for a pen. The boy didn’t look away either, both hands clutching the curtains as if just about to wrench them shut.
Hey! Izuku scribbled, letters slightly shaky where his hand trembled. Quickly glancing at the boy, who continued to stare back with sour-faced incredulity, Izuku pressed the notebook to the window.
The boy narrowed his eyes, perfect brows lowering as he deciphered Izuku’s messy hand.
After a long moment, he raised a single finger in the air, silently signifying. One minute. He pushed off the window and disappeared out of sight into the room.
Izuku’s ears rumbled with the steady thrum of blood, his stomach doing some kind of swooping and diving combo that would put the most experienced of fighter jet pilots to shame. He waited, counting the seconds until the boy returned.
He had a piece of paper in his hand, too! Oh my God, it was like some kind of YA romance novel that Izuku would never in his wildest dreams have thought -
Fuck off. The note read, when the boy smashed it up against the pane. He’d even drawn quite an elaborate little diagram of a raised middle finger to accompany it.
With a quick tug of the curtains, the boy’s face was gone, but not before Izuku caught the self-satisfied smirk plastered all over his face. After a minute of shock, the oh-too-familiar feeling of sheer mortification burning hot on his cheeks, Izuku sighed, and drew his own curtains in return.
***
“It’s like some kind of gay curse.”
Chatter and summer gossip thrummed in the air as Izuku weaved his way through the corridors, reunions and greetings hollered between classmates from opposite ends of the hall.
“What is?” Ochako didn’t look up as she bobbed at his side, finger skimming the new timetable for their first semester of senior year.
“You know, the trope where a distractingly attractive straight boy moves in next door to the pathetic, gay loser who proceeds to pine over him for the rest of the school year,” Izuku clarified. “That curse.”
Ochako flicked him an exasperated glance, struggling to fold the piece of paper in her hands at the same time as juggling several textbooks.
“Izuku. Firstly, you’re always saying that nothing exciting ever happens in this town. Maybe you should be a little more careful what you wish for if you don’t like it when something actually does.” She butted her shoulder against him, face softening with friendly affection. “And secondly, you’re not a loser. Everyone loves you, dumbass.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” Izuku mumbled in response, tugging the books out of her arms so she could stash the timetable in her bag. “Just that it gives me the perfect opportunity to embarrass myself.”
“You haven’t even spoken to him!”
“And I never will!” Izuku groaned, lifting the stack of books to smack them against his face. “I’m never going to be able to say a word to him, Ochako. He already thinks I’m a massive dweeb.”
Ochako shook her head slightly as she fumbled with a stubborn zipper. “Who cares what he thinks? Honestly, Izuku, for someone with so many brain cells you spend a lot of time thinking with your dick.”
Izuku groaned again, letting Ochako’s copy of Wuthering Heights smash more firmly into his forehead.
“Just one more year,” he murmured beneath his breath, a mantra he’d been repeating to himself all summer. “One more year and I’ll be out of here.”
When he looked up, meeting his best friend’s eyes, he found them wide, flashing with hurt.
“It’s our senior year,” she said, softly.
Their last year together.
Immediately filled with regret, Izuku found his heart swelling for the girl he’d spent so many glorious days with, memory immediately supplying the countless times they’d laughed so hard he’d felt about ready to split open at the seams, all the whispered secrets they’d shared, the confidences exchanged.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, as Ochako looked away. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just… this town… I’m tired of not being comfortable in my own skin, you know?"
When Ochako kept her gaze down, he added, “But I’m comfortable with you!”
Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Ochako looked at Izuku with a sigh, her head tilted to one side as she considered his face.
“You know, one of these days, you might finally see yourself the way everyone else does,” she said, plucking the stack of books from his hands. “Look, I’ve gotta run to homeroom, but you’ll be at band practice before lunch, right?”
“Yes, sorry, go - I’ll see you later.” Izuku stepped back, smiling weakly at his friend.
Ochako returned the smile with a warmth that dispelled any moment of sadness that'd passed between them.
“You can tell me all about whatever magical spell this boy’s put you under then,” she said as she began to walk away. “And Izuku?”
“Mm?”
“You’re not cursed!”
As it turned out, Ochako was spectacularly wrong about that, because as soon as Izuku rounded the corner, he was confronted by Mr Gay Curse himself.
His rude new neighbour slumped against the wall with a bored expression as Eijirou Kirishima - captain of the football team, and Izuku's junior year lab partner - gestured excitedly beside him. Tucked neatly beneath Kirishima's arm was Mina Ashido, her bright, bubblegum pink hair identifiable just about anywhere; a defiant violation of the dress code that always somehow went unchallenged.
There was no way Izuku could get to his locker without passing them. It was one of those do or die kinda situations, except the die option was feeling like a much more attractive prospect than facing the boy-next-door after the whole notebook fiasco.
He could still probably slip away with his dignity just about intact if he started walking in the opposite direction. Sure, he’d have to carry about five textbooks around with him all day, but he was always looking for additional ways to build up his arm muscles, and -
“Midoriya!”
Crap. Izuku winced at the greeting, heart sinking as he squeezed his eyes closed for a second before spinning on his heel.
“How you doing, man?” Eijirou called over with a beaming grin. “You have a good summer?”
Izuku laced his fingers round the straps of his backpack, gripping on tight as if it could prevent him from melting into a pile of goo on the squeaky, vinyl floor.
“Hi Kirishima!” he replied, voice coming out several octaves higher than he would’ve liked. “My summer was great, thanks -” a lie, but nobody needed to know he’d spent the majority of it in his room, rather than by the pool or at parties like the rest of the UA upperclassmen “- how was yours?”
“Ah, you know what it’s like, dude, pre-season training beat the crap outta me!”
Izuku nodded along, despite not, in fact, having a clue what it was like to be a member of the football team. Luckily, Kirishima appeared not to notice, launching into a detailed description of the conditioning schedule Coach Inui had ‘his boys’ participate in.
As Eijirou went on, Izuku became ever more aware of the way his blood seemed to pump through his veins with renewed ferocity, and how his body angled awkwardly away from the blonde boy to his left.
Mina threw him a conspiratorial look, digging a playful elbow into her boyfriend's side. “C’mon, Eiji, you’re talking his cute little ears off.”
Eijirou looked between them with a scratch of his jaw and a sheepish grin.
“Shit, sorry, bro, I get carried away sometimes. You know Mina?”
Izuku nodded. “Of course!"
Mina extended a perfectly manicured hand as if she expected Izuku to kiss the back of it. He took it limply and attempted an awkward handshake instead.
A derisive snort sounded from beside them, and Izuku's palms went immediately clammy. He attempted to wipe them inconspicuously on his jeans as Kirishima made introductions.
“Oh shit, of course! You two won’t have met yet!” Eijirou gestured a hand first to Izuku, then to the blonde boy. “Midoriya, this is Katsuki Bakugou. He just transferred here and he’s like, a total star quarterback, I’m so psyched! Gonna be our best season yet!”
The boy seemed unphased by Kirishima’s gushing, eyes fixed on Izuku. Unmoving from his position against the wall, one leg crossed over the other in a stance like he owned the fucking world, Katsuki Bakugou finally spoke.
“You’re Deku, right?”
Izuku startled, swiftly shaking his head. “W-what? Erm, no, my name’s Izuku.”
“Pretty sure my dad said you were called Deku or some shit.”
“Oh, okay, erm, no, it’s definitely Izuku!”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t quite believe him, lifting his arms to cross them.
“You guys know each other?” Eijirou said, looking between them with the excitement of a kid who’d just been handed a gigantic lollipop.
“He, um, he just moved in next door.”
“No way!” Kirishima looked downright delighted at the prospect. “You guys are neighbours? That’s so dope.” He turned to Katsuki, who was gazing off down the corridor with a look of total disinterest. “This guy helped me raise my Chem grade from a D to a B minus last year. You get to be neighbours with the nicest kid in school, bro, that’s a freaking honour.”
The disdainful smirk that appeared to be one of Katsuki’s trademark expressions was back on his face in a heartbeat.
“I’ll try my best to remember that,” he said wryly, pushing himself off the wall at last and sidling off in the opposite direction.
Izuku only realised as he watched him go that his lungs were empty of oxygen.
Just as he thought he was in the clear, Katsuki’s gravelly voice barked back at them from over his shoulder. “See ya around, Deku.”