Backpfeifengesicht
Mar. 20th, 2020 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danzanelfuocoCOW-T #10 - week 6, missione 2
Promtp: Backpfeifengesicht - faccia che necessita urgentemente di uno schiaffo
(note: ditemi che questo prompt non è Bakugou, avanti!)
Prompt di scorta: J1) OMG, they were roommates
Inspired by this www.gaystarnews.com/article/straight-guy-worries-hes-homophobic-gay-roommate-ends-falling-love/
Wordcount: 2904
“Do you know what ‘Backpfeifengesicht’ means in German?” Izuku rises his head from his book as soon as Katsuki enters in the kitchen.
“Is it really a word or just an excuse to spit in my face?” Katsuki doesn’t look impressed.
“It is a word, really,” Izuku smiles, “and it just reminded me of you.”
“It’s an insult, isn’t it? Asshole!”
“Now, that’s an insult, Kacchan. I just told you you have a Backpfeifengesicht.”
Bakugou just trows at him his dirty towel, drenched in sweat from his two hours training at the gym, and Midoriya shrieks.
“That was uncalled for!”
“Still sounds like an insult to me.” Bakugou snarls - doesn’t matter Midoriya would really like to - opening the kitchen cabinet in search of his proteins. “Suck my dick!”
“Yeah, you’d wish!”
“As if!”
Izuku goes back to studying, but there’s a red blush spreading on his cheeks
* * *
Izuku’s life sucks.
Not as much as he had thought when he found out Bakugou Katsuki was his assigned roommate, but it still sucks. A lot.
The thing is: Midoriya should hate Bakugou. He should.
They have so much history, with them being childhood friends and then Bakugou bullying him before they went to separate high schools and never see each other for years - they did see each other, with Sport’s Festival and inter-institute competitions, but they just didn’t end up in situation where they had to talk or even acknowledge the other.
Which would have been really fine, it should have been like breathing fresh air.
Ah, if only life would be so simple.
Izuku wants to hide his face in his hands and die, because, not only he doesn’t hate Kacchan, he has a crush on him, has had since forever, since before Bakugou even started his personal campaign in making his life hell.
He must be a masochist, there’s no other explanation.
Well, he always knew he wasn’t completely normal, his stack of photographs and articles from local journals vouch for his stalking habit. They may have not talked to each other or acknowledge each other presence, but Izuku sure as hell, had known everything Katsuki was doing, from his grades at high school to the info on his tennis matches and gym records.
Gosh, he’s just pathetic - and on the fringes of legality.
Whatever, no one needs to know.
Izuku keeps his journals well hidden between old textbooks no one would ever care to pick up, hidden in plain sight between his dictionaries - he’s not stupid enough to put them under his bed, where boys his age usually put stacks of porn and an horny roommate could go looking for new material. Well, not that this is a possibility with Kacchan, since he knows Izuku’s gay and… well that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?
Izuku would gladly ignore how unhealthy and full of issues this… relationship would be. If only Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t as straight as an arrow.
* * *
Sharing a room with Bakugou Katsuki is weird. Not ‘I need to hide in my room’ weird, just ‘who are you and what did you do to Kacchan’ weird.
If there is something that newspaper articles and data can’t tell is the emotional growth of an individual.
And Bakugou Katsuki is still harsh as sandpaper, perpetually angry and with a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush, but somehow along the road he lost the cruel edges, the malicious glint, the evil intention of hurting.
Bakugou still calls him ‘Deku’ - and why not, Izuku was the first to call him ‘Kacchan’, and, besides, it was is nickname even before it became a mockery - and he still yells ‘I’m gonna kill you!’ when Izuku screws up the laundry and dyes his shirts pink, but all in all he’s just a normal roommate, completely overturning the idea that Izuku had formed in his mind - that he would end up dead in a ditch, because Kacchan would surely kill him, no later than three hours from the start of their cohabitation.
The first time they met - the first time in what felt like centuries - Kacchan behaved as if he didn’t know him. Izuku stared at him like a deer in the headlights as he marched up to where he was standing.
“I’m Bakugou Katsuki,” he had extended his hand and Izuku’s heart had clenched. After everything that happened… he didn’t even recognize him?
Midoriya didn’t take his hand, not immediately, too hurt to react properly.
“Listen,” Katsuki had sighed, “we have to be roommates. I know I’m the last person you would want to share an apartment with, but we’re stuck. I’m sorry, I can’t make up for what I did and said to you back then. I was an asshole. I’m just trying to make this… work somehow? Fuck. Like, start over again? I’ll just apply for an exchange if you really want, but it will take months.”
Midoriya’s first reaction was to slap a hand across his forehead to check if he had some fever.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki almost jumped back.
“Oh, here you are. You were being too polite.”
“Fuck off.”
It was Midoriya time to extend his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Kacchan. I’m Midoriya Izuku.”
* * *
It’s that time of the year again.
The ‘Izuku is obsessing over Kacchan so much he’s getting depressed because things will never work’ period.
So Ochaco organizes an intervention, calls their friends, and brings him out and buys him ice cream and tells him, between a pat on his shoulder and an eye roll, that he needs to distract himself and Todoroki Shouto is single again and if they wanna hang out she just has his new telephone number.
Why does Shouto, the men with the mental elasticity of a metal bar, always end up with crazy lunatics more interested in his look or money than him and that always stalk him to get him back when he deadpan breaks off with them?
“I like Todoroki,” Izuku shakes his head, “but this friends with benefit things is becoming old.”
“You don’t have to marry him,” she huffs, “God knows you two have so many issues they would fill a stadium.”
“Yes, it’s just something to relent the tension,” states Asui, matter of factly, “just fuck him and take your mind off your roommate.”
Izuku blushes, deeply, reddening like a traffic light, because sometimes Tsuyu is a little too much, and even Ochaco has her cheeks slightly colored.
“I - I wouldn’t have put it so bluntly,” Iida tries to keep up his aplomb, his composure slightly falling from his grasp. “But I too think you should date. This obsession with Bakugou is becoming… unhealthy.”
Oh, you don’t say.
“I don’t know if I can get over him,” Izuku looks at his hands gripping the glass full of melted ice cream, “I don’t know if I want to get over him.”
“Midoriya, we’re not telling you to erase him from your life completely,” Asui tries to be patient.
“Just try to go out with somebody else. Search for somebody you could actually be happy with,” Ochaco tells him and Tenya nods.
They’re right, Izuku knows it.
They’re right and he needs to do something.
* * *
He ends up calling Todoroki because why not. They won’t live happily ever after - they already tried that but Izuku is still stuck with Kacchan and Shouto has a lot of issue to unravel with his family and not enough energy left for a full time partner.
They go out for a coffee and they catch up with what has happed in those few months. Todoroki tells him of his last girlfriend, why he had to change phone number again; Izuku basically talks of his roommates for an hour until Shouto laughs.
“You really have it that bad, uh?”
Izuku blushes, caught, and wants to bangs his head on the table because even Todoroki noticed and he’s so screwed. “I’m sorry. Would you rather go home?” he asks because, how on Earth this is the right mood for… benefits?
Shouto shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, Midoriya, really.”
“Thank you,” And thanks to whatever deity for the social impairment of his friend - a normal person wouldn’t have put up with his shit for so long.
“Wouldn’t you rather go home instead? You don’t look like you really want to continue the night.”
“No. No, I’m fine. You wanna come over at my place? Kacchan’s out for the night and I have a new All Might movie.”
“That seems a good plan.”
* * *
They end up kissing and making out fifteen minutes into the movie.
Izuku knows they should bring it in his room, because this is common space and it wouldn’t be respectful, but it’s been a while, the house is empty and Shouto’s hands feel so good on his back.
Izuku moans as Shouto kisses his neck and slides a hand under his shirt - and that covers the noise of the key thrust in the lock and the door opening.
“Shit!” Bakugou’s step falters as he takes in the scene and realization dawns on him.
Izuku scrambles to his feet, “Oh! You’re back! I thought…”
“What the fuck, Deku?” he looks murderous. Ready to kill.
Izuku hasn’t see this expression on his face since they were twelve.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan. I know this is common space. We have been carried away, I’m so sorry.”
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Todoroki raises gracefully from the couch, “I’m Todoroki Shouto,” he introduces himself.
“I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I think you should go,” Bakugou seethes without taking is eyes off Izuku.
“Of course,” Todoroki politely nods, “but I think it would be better if Midoriya came with me. You look…”
“Fuck off. It’s none of your fucking business how do I look like.”
Todoroki shifts his gaze to Izuku and the boy just nods.
“It’s fine, Todoroki, really.”
Shouto bows his head. “I’ll call you.”
Izuku doesn’t reply and the tension grows and thickens in the seconds it takes Todoroki to get his jacket and close the door behind him.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What do you think it was? I invited over my friend -”
“I don’t shove my tongue down my friends throat!”
“Well, yes, we’re friends with benefits, ok? We were just watching a movie and you know how things go. We should have moved to my room -”
“I don’t care what the fuck you do or who the fuck you fuck!” Bakugou only seems to get angrier.
“Well, it’s not your damn business anyway. But you’ve been rude. It was uncalled for.”
“You were on the couch!”
“We were just kissing! We weren’t naked or going at it! Are you serious? I apologize, I didn’t think you would be back that soon, but you are overreacting, it’s not like we were screwing on your bed!”
“You better not!”
“Really, Kacchan? Do you really think we would do something like this? I thought you were fine with a gay roommate.”
“Maybe I’m just fine with it as long as I don’t get to see it.” Katsuki yells, so full of rage and hatred Izuku feels like he’s ten again.
“What is you problem, Bakugou?”
Bakugou looks taken aback, as if Izuku struck him, and then, as the raging animal he is, he attacks letting his anger flare. “You! You are my problem! You always were!”
The nerve of him.
Izuku, tears gathering in his eyes, slams the door behind himself and leaves before resolving to punch him - he, resorting to violence! Something he would have never thought possibile to even think about. Backpfeifengesicht indeed.
The memory of the banter constricts his chest, the laughs and the happiness related to it discarded.
‘Suck my dick.’
‘Yeah, you’d wish!’
‘As if.’
Izuku had overlooked it - he was flirting and Bakugou was joking, but… what if he wasn’t? What if he really despises him?
Izuku doesn’t really want to think about it.
* * *
Katsuki knocks at his door two days later.
Izuku has done everything in his power to avoid this confrontation, but now it looks like he can’t run anymore.
Izuku opens the door and asks, “Are you moving out?”
“No. Well, unless if you want me to,” Katsuki waits for his reply but Izuku doesn’t deny nor confirm any wish.
“I came to apologize,” Bakugou looks at him, big earnest eyes and Izuku wants to forgive everything because, yes, that’s it, he’s a damn masochist.
Instead he forces himself to have a little bit of self-respect.
“You have been an asshole.”
“Yes, I know. I - I’ve prepared some tea, would you come to the kitchen?”
The kitchen seems safe enough, better than bringing him in his crooked room with only the bed to sit on.
“Ok,” Izuku nods and follows him into the main room, where two fuming mugs are already waiting.
He keeps silent as he sits, waiting for Katsuki to talk, but his roommate seems lost in his thoughts, doesn’t know where to start.
“I’ve talked to my friends and… well, they told me I was an asshole and a jerk and -”
“And they were right.”
“Yes, and I already knew it. But… they also think I overreacted because… well, because I’m jealous.”
Jealous? Izuku twists the thought in his mind. “Jealous? But surely it can’t be that difficult for you… I mean you’re good looking enough to… well, find someone to -”
“No! Not like that!” Katsuki blushes and looks down into his mug, evidently uncomfortable, “Jealous… of you.”
The words reach his ears but they just don’t make sense. “Of me?”
“I’ve talked with them about you, ok? They are my high school classmates and they know about you, about how I treated you, back then. They… helped me handle this when I found out we were gonna be roommates. I didn’t want to screw up again. Shit. I screwed up again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Izuku confirms, matter-of-factly, not mean.
“I’m a mess. I - I’m sorry. I don’t even know how to handle my self. I need other people to ground me, to be a functional human being, because I don’t even know what I feel.”
“And what do you feel?”
Katsuki can still hear Mina’s words in his head.
‘The fact that you used all your free time to angrily think about your childhood best friend didn’t vouch for your heterosexuality back in high school, and the fact that you use all your free time now to do the same thing, just proves you’re not straight.’
“Underneath the anger?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure. That’s what makes me angry. I don’t need you in my life, you can go. You are just a pebble and a pebble doesn’t matter. And yet I…”
Izuku tilts is head. “Are you telling me you are angry at me because you think I would refuse you so you just push away before I can do it?”
“I’m not really sure. Hagakure is the one majoring in psychology.”
“Kacchan, you’re an idiot.”
The tea must already be cold, but Katsuki prefers to sip it instead of replying.
“Kacchan. Do you like me?”
“I - I don’t know?”
Izuku leans in and takes the mug from his hands. “You can’t not know. Do you want to kiss me?”
Katsuki looks at him, red eyes wide and almost afraid. “I - Yes.”
Then Izuku leans in again and kisses him.
* * *
Izuku is still studying in the kitchen, the only place that has a table big enough for all his dictionaries spread open.
“Deku…” Kacchan calls, almost chants, and Izuku shivers, because this is the mocking voice that always bring trouble. “Maybe you could explain what is this thing I found out…”
Kacchan drops a journal on the table and Izuku closes his eyes. Fuck. All his little obsession, all his stalking, laid bare in front of him…
Well, at least Kacchan doesn’t look angry. For the moment.
“I -”
“Stalking on me, Deku?” Kacchan smiles wickedly and Izuku just would really like to know if he’s freaked out or flattered.
“Well, you were the one who used all his free time to angrily think about his childhood best friend, Mina told me. You weren’t any better.”
Kacchan’s frown deepens. “Suck my dick!” he snarls, because this is still sensitive and maybe Izuku shouldn’t have used it against him.
“Why don’t you just suck mine?” he retorts.
“Maybe I’ll do it, because, I’m the best boyfriend ever.”
Izuku looks at him agape, not safe for work images filling up his mind and bringing his blood down to his groin instead of keeping it in his brain where he needs it to end that damn translation that’s due in two days.
“Backpfeifengesicht, definitively,” he mumbles, bending over his book, distracted.
“What the fuck does it mean?” Kacchan sits on his book, covering
“I don’t know, why don’t you try to bribe me into telling you?”
“Well, I could always share with the public your unhealthy obsession with me…”
“…or you could suck my dick and then I could suck yours.”
All in all, maybe Izuku too had a Backpfeifengesicht.
