pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[ Bakugou gets a series of photos instead of a proper response; one is of the bed. Another photo, a selfie of him in it. He looks fine, if tired, hair mussed. He's still wearing Bakugou's hoodie.

There are a few more sent in quick succession: the tower, some restaurants and other things that he passed on the way in, and then one of the view from where he's staying. It's absurdly nice, all of New York laid out underneath him. As soon as those are taken and sent, though, Midoriya strips off everything but boxers, hoodie and tshirt and crawls right back into bed, phone nearly pressed against his nose. ]

Everyone has been extremely nice, Kacchan, I don't think it'll be a problem.

[ More pressing: he wants more of Bakugou's clothes, thanks!!! ]

:( :( :( I don't want to wear holes in your clothes, I want to wear ones that smell like you and until your merchandise team comes up with a cologne that smells the same you have to send them or I'm gonna have Kirishima steal some and give them to me.

From:

dynamight

[Whenever Midoriya happens to get them, they're there.]

I said be careful, jackass. Don't talk back to me.
Stupid hair better not touch any of my damn clothes.
I'LL send them goddammit.
I'm not making fucking cologne either fuck off.
I don't want everyone smelling like me all the time.
That's fucking weird.
Just deal with the hoodies.

[Don't talk about wearing his clothes, what the heck. He's already suffering enough as it is with Midoriya being gone from his general vicinity.

But the pictures are nice. He keeps looking back over them a few times (saving the one of Midoriya), trying to make out details, memorize things in case he needs them later. In case anything happens. America is... so different. The buildings are similar, but they just don't feel like Japanese buildings. The sky? Is it even the same Japanese sky? The food is going to be so different, too.]

The bed is too big for you.
How rich are these fucks?

From:

pacifisting

[ He calculates what time it is in Japan and doesn't tell Bakugou to bed like he wants to; he might be tired but it isn't that bad there despite him being the kind of person who goes to bed pretty early. ]

Pretty sure I can't get hurt in bed. And uhhh pretty rich, I think. This is just one of the guest rooms and it came furnished, which is nice. All my stuff is supposed to arrive sometime next week or so?

[ Another photo, this time of a scarred hand reaching out across the expanse of the bed. ]

It's way too big for just me so you have to come to visit. It's going to be really weird sleeping alone.

From:

dynamight

[STOP SENDING HIM PHOTOJSIDFJDISJ. Bakugou is going to die. Bakugou is going to be on the next available plane to New York City, fuck everything else. He can't believe he's being teased with some luxurious California king bed, unable to be there to ruin the sheets and then squeeze himself into Midoriya's arms after.

The worst.]

Shit.
Why are Americans so extra?

[Says an Extra kind of Japanese guy.]

Wtf
The tower looks crazy.
You said there was a fucking AI?
Did you even look into these guys before you joined?

From:

pacifisting

[ He's piling up the pillows onto the side Bakugou normally sleeps on and scooting up against them which feels really fucking pathetic but also, no one can see but him, so. ]

I know right And yeah, I did. The job is technically under Stark Industries?

[ HAHA DID HE. NOT MENTION THAT?? It's not like he you know...planned... this because there's a ton of crime here in New York and Mr. Stark, aka Ironman is at the center of a lot of that, not at all. ]

Fair warning if I stop responding it's because I fell asleep.

From:

pacifisting

Can I call you? Just til I fall asleep? If you're busy it's okay

From:

dynamight

[What a stupid piece of garbage. He loves him? This is awful.]

Call me.

From:

pacifisting

[ He is the actual worst.

Midoriya dials it instantly and as soon as the line picks up, he laughs quietly into the phone. There's the rustle of sheets as he tugs them up to his chin and a low, quiet sigh. ]

Hi, Kacchan.

From:

dynamight

[His breath is soft, but there, present. It's almost as if he's trying to soak up the sound of Midoriya's voice, one he has heard for so very long, yet not heard recently for maybe a day and some change.]

Nerd. You should go to fucking sleep.

From:

pacifisting

[ This is probably pathetic but it makes him feel better. Midoriya curls further into the covers, yawning. ]

Well, I'm trying to. That's why I'm talking to you. [ Pause. ] N-not that you're boring to talk to, okay, you know what I mean. I just want to fall asleep listening to you.

[ Better? Sort of? His nose wrinkles and he mashes his face into the marshmallow soft pillow. ]

How are you?

From:

dynamight

[Damn. Midoriya sounds drowsy and comfortable, and Bakugou wants to die. His voice is surprisingly low, like a whisper, like he thinks he'll be too loud for Midoriya to sleep, not realizing it's this way.]

M'fine. [As well as he could be considering.] I guess. [Could be better. With Midoriya.]

You had any of the crazy food yet? [A pause.] What do they fucking sound like? Can you understand them? [Listening to fluent English is wild as hell, he thinks.]

From:

pacifisting

[ He would listen to Bakugou read a phone book if he were given the chance. He'd probably get bored after three names and start yelling and ruin it, but hey. ]

Ms. Potts speaks really good Japanese, so I haven't done too much yet. There was a hot dog vendor outside, though, so I got one of those with onions and ketchup.

[ It was... actually pretty good for food he scarfed down just because it was better than airport food. ]

You know how late at night when we're walking back and you walk past the alley restaurants and you can smell the... mmm, the restaurants, I don't remember which one, but you smell them? It's like that, but all the time, and instead of soup or dumplings, it's....grease? And meat. And probably pee, honestly, it's so dirty.

From:

dynamight

What the fuck? That's disgusting?

[AMERICAN EXPLAIN. Midoriya can probably here the absolute wrinkle in Bakugou's face. Great. It's over. Midoriya is going to contract the black plague in America and be dead before Bakugou ever even knows it's happening.]

What the hell are the heroes doing? Don't they take care of their fucking city? [He doesn't understand. ShockedPikachu.jpg? How are there people who don't know how to keep their city functioning and clean?] I can't believe you ate a fucking hot dog from the street knowing it smells like grease and piss!

The fuck kinda name is "Potts"? Ask her what the fuck is wrong with New York--why's it so dirty!

[HE'S SO OFFENDED.]

From:

pacifisting

Kacchan's worse than my mother.

[ Midoriya's voice is teasing and sing-song, because it's absolutely true. He refuses to be his father: a year is plenty of time to leave the people you care about, do something useful, and come back. Especially when he has this to come back to. ]

I'm not going to contract anything out on the street, my immune system is too strong.

[ He's just listening to Bakugou's indignance with a sleepy smile and whatever he says next is only half-listened to because Midoriya is out like a light. ]

From:

dynamight

[??? Bakugou can't believe he's being compared to Midoriya's MOTHER. Worse than Midoriya's mother? Allow him to astral project into hell. Naturally, he puts up a fuss about this, each sentence laced with at least one vulgar word of some fashion before he realizes Midoriya is sounding more and more distant.

It's the only thing that quiets him down. He's met with mostly silence and the sound of deep, leveled breathing, something that could turn into a snore but won't. Very, very softly, he asks,] Deku...? [Just to be sure.

When he doesn't get an answer, he spends the next ten minutes just listening to Midoriya sleep, unsure if he should feel worse for it considering he can't see Midoriya's face, can't run his fingers along it, can't feel the rise and fall of Midoriya's chest.

A whole lot of nerve is required, a lot of second-guessing, but he does it. Soft, fast. A peak moment when Midoriya won't know and can't embarrass him for it later. He's not worried about a rejection. He's more worried about an acceptance.] Love you.

[And then he reluctantly hangs up.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya sends a heartfelt text in the morning apologizing for falling asleep on him even if that was the original plan. Time passes faster than he thinks it will, really.

Month one Mr. Stark barely interacts with him. He meets the others, though, his group of friends who Pepper warns him not to call "friends" because he'll just wave it off. (They are friends, though.) He wants the others to come visit and meet all of them because it's one thing to know that when you grow up you're going to have friends who do amazing things and it's another to meet people who have ten, twenty (thousands, in the case of Thor?) of years on them but they're still heroing, still doing what they need to do.

Tony inputs a translator into his suit but they won't let him use it to talk to anyone else when he's doing normal things. It's for the best; it's like an immersive course in English that works in a way school didn't. He's not the best at it but he's passable. There are good missions and bad ones; the bad ones feel particularly bad, but that's how it works. Everything is different here; the press, the heroes, the food. He immerses himself in it, takes up training with as many of them as he can and can feel himself getting stronger, better.

It starts to snow and Midoriya is torn between wishing he picked somewhere warmer and loving it, mostly because it's so much. Outside is chilly and inside is toasty warm and while he's not much of a drinker, he's shared multiple hot cocoas with Ms. Potts and it's...nice. Thor, at one point, gives him something to drink and tells him to take very little because it's heavy, the stuff that gets Asgardians (or super serumed soldiers named Steve and Bucky) drunk.

Every night he can, he calls the others. It's usually a weird hour for the time difference but it's alright. Uraraka, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida all share phone time so they can demand answers from him as a group. Group calls are loud and chaotic and Midoriya loves them, but it's the quiet night calls with Bakugou, where he falls asleep listening to him that are his favorite.

Finally, though, finally, he's visiting and Midoriya is at the airport an hour early but he doesn't care. He forces himself to sit and orders a latte he really doesn't need, waiting and waiting for the phone to land or Bakugou to get service back on his phone, whichever is first. ]

From:

dynamight

[Culture shock starts the moment he gets on the airline jet that goes from Tokyo International to Seattle-Tacoma International, and it only gets worse from there. The first plane is mostly Japanese, though at least twenty percent of the people on board are foreigners returning to America.

It's fine. The food offered is Japanese and the instructions (which he doesn't realize he takes for granted yet) are in Japanese, and that's what matters.

Being in Seattle, however, is a wild ride. He refuses to leave the airport, but even the airport itself is definitely American, full of Americans. Everything pretty much is in English. He's a fish out of water. He's smart enough to know a lot of phrases, a lot of words, but it's spoken so quickly he feels stupid having to pause to sort it and play it back in his mind in Japanese instead.

Then he just gets frustrated. He's trying not to blow his top overseas at an international airport. He has to text Midoriya a few times to bitch.

In the end, he has half an hour to nurse a grande frap and the ugliest onigiri he's ever seen in his entire life. Then he has to get on another plane to New York, and the population on board has turned into 98%-2% with him squeezed against a window. He can't believe how long it takes to get across one country? Wild.

Landing at JFK is a godsend. The whole journey feels like a warp through time, and he isn't sure if he's coming or going, if he even exists at all anymore. Did he sleep? He's sure he did, but can't remember when or how long. It feels like it's almost four in the morning, but it's only two in the afternoon.

Who is he?

Even though Midoriya doesn't get a text, Midoriya does eventually get a very tired and existentially disturbed exploding man being expelled out of the mouth of the plane ramp and into the airport with a duffle bag and a backpack. He looks as if he's Had a Time.

Which he just stands there a yard or so out of the way and stares blankly for a minute. KatsukiBakugou.exe has encountered a problem and needs to restart.]

From:

pacifisting

[ The moment he sees Bakugou relief hits him like a ton of bricks. It sounds like it was a shitshow from start to finish but now he can grab him, bring him back for a nap and take him out to all the places he's found. He can do all of the things he's been dying to do, talking about doing with Bakugou and he's so excited that all exhaustion feels like it's burned away.

He has a beanie tossed over his messy hair, mostly because the undercut means that the nape of his neck is always cold now, how did people in New York deal with this? Everything else is in muted greens and grays, save for big red boots that have replaced his joggers. The third time he came back with drenched shoes he asked Ms. Potts if there were anywhere he could get boots. It turns out, there were, but also, people just...came to the tower and brought boots for him to try on and it was very weird.

Either way, though, his feet are warm and Bakugou's here and while he can't run over and kiss him stupid, he can jog over and collide with him in a furious hug, like a thousand pound truck running into a brick wall. ]

Hi. Do we need to wait for baggage? It's not going to take super long but we'll have to find the carousel that your flight matches with. [ A pause, glancing down. ] Wait, no, this is all you brought isn't it?

From:

dynamight

[It takes a second for Midoriya to register. He's seen the other man so much in pictures and video calling, but it feels... as if he hasn't seen Midoriya in forever honestly. It feels so long.

His hand drops the duffle bag the moment he's hit, and the backpack slides off his shoulder to join it on the ground. Both large arms encircle Midoriya's neck and shoulders, and he crushes them together, shoving his face down into the bunched crevice of Midoriya's neck. Squeezes his eyes shut, curls all ten fingers into the clothes.

If he could meld with Midoriya, he probably would.

Something in the pit of him ignites, something that has been dormant since their parting. Maybe it's One For All, maybe it's the spiritual energy of the passable quirk, each piece finding, feeling, recognizing the other piece in them both.

Bakugou doesn't cry, but he does hug like he wants to sort of. Lifts Midoriya a few inches off the ground before returning the feet. No kissing, but it's fine. There'll be plenty of kissing later.] Suitcase. [His voice is strained and hoarse, growly, all muffled in Midoriya's clothes. He's just so glad to be grounded.]

Gotta call the old hag, too.

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya resists the urge to pick him up and spin him like he wants to but it's a close thing. This is enough for right now, pressing his face into the dip of Bakugou's throat, inhaling. This is better than hoodies exchanged through the mail, this is better than lining his bed with pillows to try and imitate the real thing.

Midoriya knew he's going to cry but it's one thing to know it and another to feel his eyes pricking with relieved tears, squeezing him tighter, hiding his face a moment. ]

Okay, we'll get it. [ There's no kissing on the lips, but Midoriya's shameless: he presses his face in and presses a warm (slightly damp-cheeked) kiss to the base of his throat and then withdraws slowly, smiling. ] You can call her really fast and I'll get your suitcase for you?

[ The hand at Bakugou's back smooths down, settles under his jacket to press at the small of it, tugging him in for another lingering hug before Midoriya forces himself back with a strangled laugh. ]

It's so good to see you.

From:

dynamight

[Despite not crying, Bakugou's face and neck are speckled with a pink flush. He rubs his cheek and nose with the sleeve of his arm and jacket, trying to will the embarrassment away. No. Trying to will the happiness away. He's not happy!! He's not anything at all for this dumbass nerd!]

Yeah.

[Nailed it. For some reason, his heart doesn't want to stop pounding in his chest. Seeing Midoriya again... being in some wildly new place... It's too much. He needs a nap. (He misses the onsens already.)] What the... [He pauses just for a second, then snaps his hand out to snatch the hat off Midoriya's head.] The fuck...?

[His wide fingers curl around the back of Midoriya's neck... up? There's nothing. The pads of his fingers and his palms receive the tickle of soft stubble at the curve of Midoriya's head, and he rubs up and down to feel. There's nothing until he runs into the fluffy locks sitting high at the back.

It's weird. There is something older about this, something mature. Something hotter. Not a head full of stupid Deku mane, but a sleek and fashionable shave with a hint of endearing cuteness. Midoriya hadn't ever showed him the fucking back.

Bakugou looks surprised, half entranced, still flushed.]

What the fuck... [It's whispered, pleasantly Japanese. His hand slides away, lost between the two of them with the hat only partially offered, more hanging stunned.] You think I won't find a way to pull your hair still, damn nerd...?

From:

pacifisting

[ The undercut was mostly an afterthought when he went in to get his bangs trimmed. Ms. Potts (always Ms. Potts, he kind of loves her and wants Yaomomo to meet her desperately) had recommended a salon and he had nearly choked when he saw the final amount. Affordable, sure, because Mr. Stark was made of money apparently and they paid him a frankly obscene amount, but he never looked at the pay. They always went into a joint account he had with his mother so she could use it as needed.

The haircut was taken care of before he even got there, so it doesn't really matter, but he tipped ridiculously well when it was done, because the stylist had made his unruly mop manageable and he did like the undercut.

Now, with Bakugou's hand stroking over it, Midoriya hums with pleasure and snags the hat back, beaming up at him. He should have tipped even more, this is great. ] I really hope you will.

[ It's said low and intimate, just for him and then Midoriya's picking up his bags easily, throwing them over his shoulder as the carousel starts to blink and screech its awful alert. ]

It's about a thirty minute drive to the tower. If you're hungry, we can stop for food, or we can get something ordered there. Whatever's easiest.

[ He took the subway here but after that flight and Bakugou's day he's not going to make him suffer through the subway, he knows better. ]

From:

dynamight

[Jesus? Excuse him? Who the fuck took Izuku Midoriya, and who the hell is this fucker actually? It's not... the same person. Bakugou is shook. There's... no way... this is the same person who left Japan.

It's both attractive and infuriating, Midoriya's spike in confidence. How easy it is for Midoriya to grab his bags up and talk to him assertively about everything in this crazy damn country, this city. It isn't until this moment he has another realization that Midoriya isn't behind him anymore.

He's the one who is going to have to scramble to keep up.

Frankly, he stares for a long, hard, solid minute. The look is visible on his face. Finally, he moves, but slow, unsure. No, like he's trying to process it. He got on a plane and went into a vortex to another dimension!] Uh... [Crazy. He doesn't know how to use his words.

WORDS? His face crumbles, frustrated. Worried.] Whatever. I don't... give a shit. [He doesn't know any places here. He doesn't know the food, the drink, anything hardly. But Midoriya does.] As long as it doesn't taste like grease and piss.

From:

pacifisting

[ Is it too much? Is he too much?

The hesitation makes Midoriya hesitate in turn because Bakugou's just staring at him and Midoriya's suddenly awfully self-conscious again in the way that only the other man can make him. Maybe he should have left the bags. ]

Um. Okay. I'll make sure we avoid those. [ H-haha. Well, the bags aren't going to get themselves, so Midoriya takes him by the arm after tugging the beanie back on and then takes them to the proper place to grab the suitcase. He sees it come down and hefts it easily, but next to them is a woman with three kids trying to wrangle them and get bags at the same time.

He arranges Bakugou's stuff near him and then goes to crouch next to the kids, quietly asking them which bags are theirs after checking with the mother if he can help. One of them, the middle girl, clearly recognizes him because there's a moment where she stops, stares, and then looks at Bakugou consideringly, eyes narrow. Once all the bags are hefted up and organized on a cart, Midoriya waves off the thanks and gives the mother a bright smile, bowing and then catching himself, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. ]

Sorry. Come on, we should go before it gets too busy. Let's get to the tower and then we can figure out what we wanna do?

From:

dynamight

[Without hesitation, Bakugou follows after, ready to reach up and grab the bags just to prove he can carry them himself. It feels too weird having Midoriya lug his stuff around. Thankfully, at the carousel, it’s all dropped. He gets the duffle and the backpack up again. The suitcase rolls, so it won’t be much of a problem, not even if Midoriya decides to push it along.

Then Midoriya is gone? Bakugou looks up, and the other man is crouched by the family. He frowns, and then he glares mildly at the girl when she gives him a kind of once-over, unsure of what she’s thinking. Judging him? Not knowing him? Does this little girl wanna freaking square up? He’ll fight a middle child, don’t think he won’t. He takes all his opponents seriously, kid or adult, man or woman.

But she says nothing, and his face softens again some. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget there’s more to being a hero than blasting C4 levels of nitroglycerin at villains. This is the part he has always struggled with the most. Helping on a social level, talking to people. He just isn’t... cut out for it. His quirk has always been about power, destruction. His whole lofe has been about that.

He feels vastly inadequate standing beside Midoriya, even if he would never say.] Mn. [He nods toward the rolling suitcase, refusing to give up the duffle and backpack.]

The “Tower.” Fine. Hurry the hell up.