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“Kota-kun, are you sure Midoriya sensei won't catch us?” Mahoro whispered.
“I just saw him by the auditorium, there's no way he’ll be up here right now,” he assured.
“That was half an hour ago!” Katsuma said, a little out of breath as they raced through the halls. “He could be anywhere right now!”
“It's not like we have much of a choice, do we?!” Kota snapped. “We can't start the play without those damn costumes.”
Despite autumn painting the city in warm, earthy tones, the school was anything but. Dressed in vibrant colors and endless decorations made by all the students, the cultural festival was in full bloom at UA High School.
Class B’s concert was blasting through the speakers all over the school, and when the trio of students rushing through the halls recognized the song playing as one of the last ones in their setlist, they knew they were in big trouble. Their play was set to happen right after the concert, and they had just realized 15 minutes ago that the costumes were nowhere to be seen.
Their best guess was that someone had forgotten them in the classroom.
“What are we going to do if the door is locked?” Katsuma worriedly asked, panting.
Kota grinned. “Tear it down.” A hand hit him in the back of the head, making him growl.
“We're not fixing one problem by causing another one, idiot.” Mahoro scowled.
Their steps echoed down the hallway, squeaking when they turned the corner and started slowing down.
“If it's locked, we're gonna have to call Midoriya sensei with our tails between our legs and beg,” she said.
“You have to be kidding me,” Kota groaned. “The whole point was doing this before he could notice!”
“He notices everything, so he probably already knows what we're doing."
Katsuma made a distressed sound. “I don't know what we'll do if he's up here now.”
”Oh, crap. He's going to give us that sad, disappointed look that reminds me of a kicked puppy, and I will cry again.” Mahoro panicked, whispering as she pulled her hair.
“One of his deadliest weapons,” the to-be water hero agreed. “Maybe we can sneak in?”
“Sneaking? On Midoriya Sensei? Forget it. It's impossible. He's got a sixth sense, it's almost creepy.”
“I don't see you having a better idea, Mahoro!”
“I'm just being realistic!”
“Guys,” Katsuma muttered, eyes glued to the window.
“Yeah, always a party pooper,” Kota stuck his tongue out.
“You're so annoying. When we get out of here, I'm going to kick you so hard-”
“Guys!” Katsuma repeated, louder this time.
“What?!” Kota and Mahoro snapped towards him.
“I don't think we're getting those costumes,” Katsuma said, with a little smile pulling at his lips as he gazes inside the classroom.
“Hah?”
“Come take a look,” he said, way too excited for the situation they were in. “Careful, or they'll see you.”
They frowned and hushedly tiptoed beside Katsuma, and the two pairs of eyes widened. Kota had to bite his lips shut, and Mahoro's hand flew to cover her mouth, hiding her big grin.
Midoriya sensei was indeed still in the classroom.
But he wasn’t alone.
It was impossible not to know whose arms were embracing their sensei, not with those characteristic bright orange and black sleeves.
The desks and chairs were cleared out from the middle of the classroom, making a small space to move around.
Midoriya Sensei and Pro Hero Dynamight were standing in the center of the classroom, wrapped in each other’s arms, gently rocking to the rhythm of the slow song coming out of the speakers. Their sensei’s head rested against Dynamight’s broad chest, with his eyes closed and a soft, happy smile stretching across his lips. His face seemed more peaceful than they had ever seen before, blissfully calm and slightly flushed.
One of Katsuki’s gloved hands was placed on Izuku’s lower back, possessive and gentle, thumb rubbing small circles over his dress shirt, while the other held his scarred hand up beside them.
They're showered in the afternoon’s warm glow, golden sun rays painting everything a soft orange shade. If anything, it made the already heart-warming sight even sweeter.
Katsuki leaned down to whisper something in Izuku’s ear, and he could only blush and giggle in response, hiding his flustered face for a second as the pro hero laughed softly before leaving a tender kiss on top of his curly head. Katsuki spoke again, and that brought Sensei out of his hiding to look at him with heart eyes. Dynamight swirled them around, holding their teacher by the waist and lifting him in the air as they turned, and Izuku laughed.
“I knew it,” Mahoro whispered, captivated by the scene developing before their excited, nosy teenage eyes. “They had to be dating, I knew it.”
“I mean, I've known since I met them at 6 years old.” Katsuma shrugged.
“Same,” Kota replied. “But I've never… seen them like this.”
“They’re so in love, what the hell,” the girl muttered, unable to look away. “I feel so lonely.”
Katsuma giggled, and his sight went back to the classroom, unable to help himself from looking.
It seemed so intimate, like something they shouldn't be watching despite it being so innocent. But their love was loud, almost demanding that they look. The adoration in each other’s faces was almost palpable; it made the students squirm.
Midoriya Sensei’s eyes were practically glowing, staring at Dynamight with heart-shaped pupils and a dreamy smile. And the big bad Dynamight was no better, fondly gazing at the smaller man with what could only be a lifetime of fond feelings.
The way they looked at one another was nothing short of entrancing.
It was almost comical to see such an intimidating and usually abrasive mountain of a man looking so soft and docile, completely unbothered and very much in love with their beloved sun-like teacher.
They started to slowly lean into each other, faces getting close. Izuku closed his eyes and sighed, and Bakugou wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue.
“I need to take a picture.”
“No!” Mahoro and Katsuma frantically said in a barely contained whisper, pulling Kota down so they were all squatting below the window view.
He pouted. “I made a bet!”
“Are you telling me there's someone who actually bet against them dating?” Mahoro deadpanned.
“Talk about oblivious,” Kota scoffs. “That idiot owes me 20 bucks.”
“We're not taking any pictures,” Katsuma intervened. “If Midoriya sensei hasn't said anything, it's because he's keeping it private, and we should respect that.” He pointed an accusative finger at them.
“Katsuma, I love you, but you need to live a little, man,” Kota said.
“As much as I hate to say it, I'm with Katsuma in this one,” Mahoro sighed. “Plus, Dynamight will kill us.”
Kota snorted. He dismissively waved his hand. “Please, that explosive geezer wouldn't dare.”
“You sound too damn sure of that, brat.” A hoarse, menacing voice startled them.
Their blood ran cold.
Nervously, slowly, and completely terrified, the three heads looked up.
They're dead. So dead.
Red, mean eyes were narrowed on them. Scowling, Bakugou had his arms crossed over his chest and looked down on them as if they were insects he was about to step on. Behind him, their teacher stared at them with a quirked brow and a disapproving expression, and they almost thought it was worse.
“Is this what you teach your students, Deku?” Dynamight growled. “To be nosy little brats?”
“Most certainly not,” he replied in a reproachful tone. “Kids, this isn't nice. Spying on others is an extremely inappropriate behavior.”
They stood up, having trouble lifting their embarrassed eyes from the floor.
“Sensei-” Katsuma started, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Want me to teach ‘em a lesson about how to behave?” Bakugou’s hands sparked, and the three of them shrieked at the sound.
“Kacchan!” their sensei squeaked, gently slapping his shoulder. “Don't scare my kids.”
“A little harsh discipline won't kill them,” the pro hero grinned, licking his canines like a hungry wolf. “Let me play with them a bit.”
His hands sparked again, the palm of his gloves turning a burnt yellow.
The students audibly gulped and shot a panicked glance at their teacher.
Izuku casted an unimpressed look at him. “I would hardly believe in whatever you're thinking of as playing.”
“Oh, c'mon.” He cracked his knuckles loudly and rolled his shoulders. He bent down until he was at their level and said to Mahoro’s face, smiling dangerously like a hyena. “It will be fun.”
The girl tried not to look scared; she knew the Hero wouldn't harm her, like, ever. But Mahoro still felt so embarrassed to have been caught spying on them that she couldn't bring herself to challenge him as she would've done on any other occasion. She pursed her lips in a devious pout and looked in her Sensei's direction, begging for some help.
“Enough, Kacchan,” he scolded, glaring daggers at him and leaving no room for argument.
Surprisingly, Dynamight deflated, going from feral to mildly annoyed in less than two seconds.
“Tch,” it's the only thing he said before crossing his arms again and looking bored.
Midoriya Sensei sighed and tiredly shook his head.
“Mahoro, Kota, Katsuma.” Their spines straightened as their names were called out. “Would you mind explaining what you're doing up here, snooping around? Shouldn't your play be starting in about…” Izuku looks down at his watch, eyes widening and voice increasing in pitch, “10 minutes?!”
“We didn't mean to!” Katsuma was the first to talk.
“We forgot the costumes in the classroom, and we were trying to get them on time, but then we found you and,” he glanced at the explosive hero sneering at them, and his breath hitched, “and Mr. D-Dynamight. And-”
“And you're so cute together we couldn't look away,” Mahoro blurted out. Kota elbowed her in the ribs, but she ignored him. “We’re so sorry we were spying, but you just seemed so happy, Sensei, it was adorable!”
Their teacher’s face turned bright red, and his first reaction was to nervously glance at the hero beside him, who looked more smug than scandalized. Katsuki raised his eyebrows and, if their incredulous eyes didn't deceive them, they watched Dynamight wink at their sensei.
Izuku’s eyes widened before narrowing on him. Even redder than before, the teacher pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before defeatedly saying, “First of all, you're all getting detention next week after class. It's my duty as your teacher to instill in you the values worthy of a hero while I can, so this is for your own good. Spying on other people is not okay.”
The three students nodded, resigned. “Yes, sensei.”
“And second, I'm going to ask you to be extremely discreet about… us. I won't be giving you any further details, but I assume you all know what I'm talking about.”
“Don't worry, sensei. Our lips are sealed,” Kota grinned.
“You better,” Dynamight snarled.
“Katsuma,” the teacher said, “go get the costumes so you can hurry back on time.”
Katsuma nodded and ran to the classroom, quickly grabbing the box with the costumes and getting back out.
The students looked at each other with guilty eyes before they bowed.
“We're sorry, sensei.”
And well, their teacher had a soft heart. His serious demeanor melted away, and he smiled.
“It's okay, kids, just don't do it again, got it?”
“Yes, sensei!”
“Now go, or you'll be late. We're right behind you.”
They didn't have to be told twice before they were on their way, giggling and sending curious looks towards them over their shoulders as they tried to whisper and miserably failed to be discreet.
Izuku rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I swear to god those kids will be the death of me.”
Katsuki snorted and turned to face him, wasting no time finding his waist and resting his big hands there, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush together again.
“You love those rascals.”
“Yeah,” the teacher murmured, glancing towards the hall with a fond look. “Unfortunately, I do.”
“I'm not gonna lie, that was hot as fuck.”
“What part? Being spied on?” he teased. “Kacchan, that's kinky-”
“No, dweeb,” he flicked his forehead, and Izuku winced. “I've never seen you scold your students before, Sensei.”
Izuku’s eyes widened, and his breath got stuck in his throat.
His boyfriend’s hands roamed over to the sides of his thighs and back to his waist, and his shit-eating grin told Izuku that he was doing that completely on purpose because he was a jerk. Katsuki nuzzled the column of his neck, and Izuku had to fight every demon inside him to pull back.
“Kacchan, stop calling me that,” he begged. “Especially right now.”
“But sensei, you didn't complain about it yesterday when we were—”
“Kacchan,” the teacher squealed, pushing him away. “Stop that, we're gonna be late to my kids’ play!”
Katsuki groaned but took a step back, angrily pouting.
“Alright, alright, I'll behave for now.”
Izuku smiled and stood on his tiptoes to sweetly kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, baby.”
“Yeah, yeah. C'mon, they're probably looking for their favorite nerd in the crowd. Those brats are so obsessed with you.” The pro hero offered his hand to the teacher, and he gladly took it, heading towards the hall as their joined hands swayed between them.
“They just appreciate me because I treat them with respect, that's all.”
Katsuki playfully pinched his chubby red cheek in between his fingers, ignoring his boyfriend’s protests. “Whatever lets you sleep at night, nerd.”
Izuku pretended to bite his finger, to which his boyfriend only smiled.
As they walked down the stairs, the pro hero muttered, “Those damn cock blockers.”
“Kacchan!”
And he just cackled, ruffling the green wild curls he liked so much and pecking his lips to shut him up.