A Mile In Your Shoes - Chapter 4

Kirishima hardened his arm, holding it up to protect himself from the impact as Bakugou launched at him, green electricity sparking around his feet.

“It's fucking ridiculous,” he complained, as they traded blows. “I'm stuck in this shitty nerd's body seeing every stupid scar he got because of me, and don't even get me started on the fuckin abs he developed out of nowhere. I can't even jack off because it feels so damn gross to play with him like that behind his back, you know?”

“I understand!” Kirishima assured him, grabbing Bakugou's wrist and watching the freckled face sink into a scowl as he yanked it away again. “Have you talked to him about it? I'm sure he's having a hard time too!”

“Like hell,” Bakugou snorted, taking a moment to charge up One For All again. “You remember that shirt I lost, with the flaming skull on it? I found it in his bed. Dumb nerd got it mixed up with his laundry and didn't even notice.”

“Oh, that was yours?” Kirishima asked sweetly. “I saw him wearing it as pyjamas, I just thought you had matching shirts!”

“Haah?!”

“Hit me again, bro! Use all that power!”

“What the fuck, Shitty-hair?!”

Kirishima grinned and refused to elaborate, watching Bakugou grit his teeth as he threw kick after kick, not even making a dent in Kirishima's armour. He was quickly distracted from the discussion, but still the heavy feeling in his chest remained. What was the asshole getting at? Did he know something Bakugou didn't?

It weighed on his mind as he changed out of his sweaty clothes, all the way through cooking dinner and sitting down to eat, even when Midoriya's friends sat down with him and tried to chat. He was too quiet, he knew. They could all tell something was going on, but he hoped maybe they would blame it on the imaginary headache he'd complained about.

“Is something on your mind, Midoriya?” Todoroki asked quietly. “You seem lost in thought.”

Trust the damn halfie to be the one who spoke up.

“I'm fine,” he assured them, shaking his head. “Just tired, I guess.”

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Uraraka asked gently. “You've seemed preoccupied lately.”

“It seems to be affecting your training,” Iida added. “You wouldn't want your career to suffer just because you're puzzling over something!”

His stomach clenched when he found all the warm faces looking his way – his own friends would tease and joke until the cows came home, but he wasn't sure they'd ever been so supportive. To be fair, they probably would be, if Bakugou let them, but he'd never let his guard down so much before.

“Let's pretend for a minute that I had a crush on someone,” he began, surprising himself with the stupid words. “How am I supposed to face them, knowing they'll never feel that way?”

“Why do you assume that?” Iida asked. “It seems illogical to assume that it's impossible if you've never asked. Shouldn't you take a chance and say something?”

“You know it's bad when Iida is the one saying it,” Uraraka giggled. “You've got it bad, Deku, we know – you don't need to do this hypothetical stuff! Just tell us what's on your mind!”

So the nerd had a crush on someone after all. Typical. He was a teenager, after all – it made sense! Bakugou just never expected to find out in such a dumb way.

“Sometimes you just meet a person who's too good for you,” he continued carefully. “And you know that no matter what you do, you'll never measure up. You'll never be able to make up for the shitty things you've done in the past.”

“Your past doesn't define you,” Todoroki reminded him, his eyes strangely stern. “You're the only one who controls your present and your future.”

“I guess so.”

He was still thinking about it when he excused himself for bed, finding himself on his own floor, staring at Kirishima's closed door and taking a deep breath before he knocked.

Footsteps, a lock clicking, and Bakugou forced a smile onto his face.

“Kirishima!" he said brightly, beaming at the confused face in front of him. “It's all fixed!! Isn't that great?!”

“Huh? Midoriya?”

“Yeah! We just switched back out of nowhere, it was such a relief! I just came to get my stuff from you!”

“Sure,” Kirishima nodded. “Just give me the password.”

Bakugou froze, and Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him pointedly.

“Motherfucker,” he said finally.

“Yeah, didn't think so,” Kirishima snorted. “Good acting though, Bakubro! I'm proud of you!”

“Shut the hell up.”

─────

Midoriya shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as he waited, a dark bag clutched in his fist, ready to take his beating from his childhood friend.

“I only just found all this stuff,” he explained, before Bakugou had a chance to ask why the fuck he was there. “And I don't know what any of it is, I'm so sorry! Um, I thought maybe you'd teach me, so I can start taking proper care of your body until we switch back? Like, my hair doesn't look right, and my face feels dry, and I know that's my fault for doing or not doing something wrong but I'm stupid Kacchan, I don't know how to do any of this!”

“It's so fucking weird listening to that shit in my voice,” Bakugou muttered, snatching a towel and a pile of clean clothes from beside the door. “I was getting ready to go shower anyway. Come on.”

“W-Wait. Together?”

“Yeah, nerd. You think I haven't seen my own body naked before?” he snorted. “Come on, asshole.”

With a little whine, Midoriya followed him to the elevator, face burning bright red as they made their descent to the bathrooms. Even though it was his own body he was following, his own body he was watching undress, his own body that stepped into the water, it was still so damn intimate.

“You need to teach me to shave,” Bakugou said quietly, as he looked back over his shoulder. “I didn't know the baby-faced asshole grew a beard.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya smiled sheepishly. “It looks silly though, I try to keep it under control.”

“Your legs are fucking hairy too, it's weird as fuck. Maybe I'll take care of that shit too.”

“Stop changing my body!” Midoriya whined. “I've been so nice to yours!”

“Says the dickwad with the fuckin' frizzy hair and dry skin.”

“You know what I mean!”

He snatched the bag from Midoriya's hand, unloading bottles to line up across the shelf, and Midoriya just stared at them blankly. Beyond “Shampoo” he wasn't even sure what any of the words meant.

“Hair,” Bakugou said simply, picking up the one identifiable bottle and dumping some on Midoriya's head, rubbing it in roughly. “I assume you did this part, at least.”

“Uh-huh! Every day!”

“Every day?! You fuck, no wonder it's all gross!” Bakugou growled, squirting him in the face with the showerhead before he rinsed the shampoo out. “Every third day, asshole.”

“Okay, okay! I'm sorry!”

“Then conditioner.”

“What's that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is this why your own hair was such a fucking mess?”

“Don't be mean, Kacchan.”

He gave up, upending half a bottle of conditioner onto Midoriya's head, then some on his own to match. He'd bought a couple of cheap bottles of stuff at the convenience store, when he'd been unable to locate Midoriya's stuff – the stuff that didn't exist, he now knew. It was nice to use his own expensive stuff again instead, the brands he'd been loyal to for years.

“Leave that in,” Bakugou demanded, reaching for the facewash next. “Look at me.”

Their gazes met for a moment, and Midoriya quickly closed his eyes when they both blushed bright red, suddenly hyper aware of their mutual nakedness. Without another word Bakugou rubbed it into his face, surprisingly gentle considering his general attitude up to that point, the scarred and callused hands almost soft in their touch.

“I was on your laptop,” Midoriya said quietly, the grip immediately tightening. “Don't start, Kacchan, if you wanted to keep me out you shouldn't have made the password AllMight. How long have you had that desktop background?”

Bakugou failed to find words as he thought back, remembering the sweet little shot of All Might with the pair of them at the end of their first year. They'd finally gotten to a point where Bakugou could – and more importantly, would – call them friends again, and when their mothers had pestered All Might for a photo of the trio, he'd happily obliged.

“A while,” he answered finally. “Makes me think of when we were kids.”

“Me too!” Midoriya beamed, his eyes still shut as Bakugou cleaned away suds, but his mouth quickly being hit by foul-tasting bubbles. “Every time I see it, I think 'how excited would we have been, if we saw this photo?' You know? The two of us, together, in U.A. uniforms, with All Might's arms around us. I probably would have cried.”

“You definitely would have cried. For, like, a month.”

“Mean!” Midoriya protested, laughing all the same. “I'm glad we both made it here, Kacchan. I know it hasn't always been smooth sailing, we haven't always gotten along or communicated well, but we're good now, right?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou nodded, rinsing the conditioner off them both. “We're good.”

“All your porn is surprisingly vanilla.”

Bakugou slipped, mortified when Midoriya caught him with a laugh, keeping him from hitting the cold tiles below.

“I'm just kidding, Kacchan! I didn't look at your porn!”

“I don't have porn, asshole!”

“We both know that's a lie, Kacchan.”

“Shut the hell up, nerd!”

He was still giggling when he lathered up Bakugou's face, his hand steady despite the sounds, and Bakugou held his breath, standing dead still as he waited. WIth precise and well-practiced motions, Midoriya worked smooth strokes along his cheek and jaw, shearing away the scruffy little patches of stubble that showed up every few days. Bakugou followed him with his eyes, watching closely for any sign of a slip, but soon Midoriya was cleaning his face off gently and shooting him a smile.

"All done!"

When he made it back to Bakugou's room, Midoriya was still smiling, now dry and bundled up in warm pyjamas just to add to the joy. He'd learned quickly that Bakugou's body liked its warmth, the soft clothes had been a pleasant surprise to find in his bottom drawer – worn out at the hems, though, he couldn't help but notice. Maybe he would find a nice new pair for him for his birthday.

He looked in the mirror at the damp, floppy hair and the soft ruby eyes, then down to peek at the chest and stomach through his collar. Bakugou really was a good looking guy – not that either of them had ever thought otherwise. Bakugou was conceited as hell about his appearance, with his perfectly clear skin and long, dark eyelashes.

Speaking of skin.

He reached for the bottle Bakugou had showed him repeatedly, dumping a bunch of moisturiser on his hands and rubbing it into his face. That would stop the dry feeling, Bakugou claimed – he knew he'd been doing something wrong.

The feel of it was smooth and soft on his skin, and as he looked at the leftovers on his hand, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. His eyes shifted to a little paper bag from the department store, sitting patiently on the nightstand, and with a flush rising in his cheeks he reached for it.

No one had to know.

─────

Bakugou had logged into the nerd's laptop the moment they finished showering – he should have known they had the same stupid password. He'd just been looking for something to tease with, something to counter the porn jokes, but when the email alert popped up in the corner of his screen, he couldn't help but stare.

Why was the nerd sending himself emails? Was he storing things off Bakugou's laptop for blackmail?

He clicked on it, vowing to just take a peek and make sure it was innocent, not to actually read the nerd's private messages. But then he saw the photo attached, and he froze.

That little fuck.

He didn't hesitate, storming out of the room and thumping through the stairwell. He didn't bother knocking, knowing the damn nerd wouldn't have remembered the lock anyway, simply slammed the door open and held up his phone with a scowl.

“What the fuck do you call this, you fuckin-”

He froze, and so did Midoriya. For a moment the room was silent, and Bakugou's breath shuddered as he took it all in. His mirror had been moved, propped against the wall near the bed, and Midoriya sat on the edge of the mattress butt-naked, dick in hand.

Except for, well...

“Is that a fucking collar?” he hissed, as Midoriya's eyes filled with tears, quickly reaching for a blanket to cover himself up futilely. “Are you trying to blackmail me, you asshole?!”

“I would never!” he insisted, choked up, holding back sobs. “I'm so sorry, Kacchan!”

“You're just fuckin' sitting here with my cock in your hand, jacking off in a-” his voice cracked, and his eyes darted sideways. “In a mirror?”

The first sob escaped Midoriya's throat, and Bakugou turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him and storming back to Midoriya's room.

How the fuck did he not think of that?!