A Mile In Your Shoes - Chapter 2

Midoriya barely slept.

He managed to snatch maybe an hour at a time of restless sleep, waking up again and again until finally the sun came up and he gave up. Even though he remembered it all, even though he hadn't slept long enough to give himself a chance to forget, when he looked in the bathroom mirror it was still a weird shock.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself, to be honest – what was Bakugou's morning routine? Midoriya just brushed his teeth and attempted to tame his hair a little, but Bakugou probably had a thousand more steps than that.

Speaking of teeth, was he meant to use his own toothbrush? Bakugou would yell at him if he suggested it in their normal bodies, so did the same rule apply even though he inhabited it?

He grabbed a fresh one from the cabinet just to be safe, making sure he took extra care to clean every millimetre of every tooth until they were shining clean – no need to make Bakugou yell at him and blow their cover, after all. He splashed some water on his face, then drank a glass for good measure, halting as he touched the waistband of his boxers.

He'd taken his pants off to sleep, but hadn't dared go further than that. The problem now, of course, was that he was dying to pee. Just the thought of seeing it made him nervous, even if Bakugou had already looked at, and made fun of his one. Touching it was even worse to think about – he was gonna have to sit down to pee and hope for the best when he put his pants back on.

Slowly, with trembling hands, Midoriya tugged at the waistband of dark boxers, swallowing hard before he yanked them down to expose himself – to expose Bakugou – completely.

“Bullshit,” he found himself muttering, as his eyebrows knitted together. “You're not bigger than me at all, Kacchan!”

By the time he made it downstairs, Bakugou was already throwing cereal in a bowl, ever the early riser even in Midoriya's body. It didn't look like he'd been running, though, like he usually did, and it made Midoriya briefly feel guilty – should he have taken Bakugou's body for a run?

No, he probably would have tripped and split his face open. Stupid top-heavy body.

“Good morning,” Bakugou greeted him, eyes darting briefly to the little group sitting further down the hall.

“Morning,” he mumbled back, squeezing past him to the fridge.

What did Bakugou eat, anyway? He'd be killed if he made the wrong choice.

Bakugou reached past him into the shelves of the fridge, sliding out a little plastic container with his name and a dozen death threats scrawled on the top. He didn't say a word, but put it in Midoriya's hands, and Midoriya nodded faintly as he sat down at the table.

He really was such a damn perfectionist – Midoriya was starting to suspect he didn't know the half of it. The container was split into two layers, one housing rice mixed with egg and some kind of fish, the other a selection of sliced fruit. He could feel Bakugou watching him like a hawk, and soon he was sitting opposite Midoriya at the table, drinking messily from his bowl of cereal – yeah, okay, maybe he had a handle on acting like Midoriya after all.

“I got seen leaving my room,” he grumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Was awkward.”

“Yeah, I had one last night.”

“Might have to switch,” Bakugou sighed, reluctant to say the words even though they'd both been thinking it. “If this keeps up.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya smiled nervously, quickly forcing it off his face. “Um, I need your uniform, too.”

“Ugh, yeah.”

They switched keys across the table, and Midoriya found himself insanely nervous at the idea of being alone in Bakugou's room – he wasn't sure when he'd last been in there at all, let alone without Bakugou.

“How's it going?” Kirishima asked as he fell into a chair, making Midoriya jump. “Sorry. Guess it's, uh, not fixed then.”

“Nope,” Midoriya agreed, frowning a little. “We were just talking about switching rooms.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense!” Kirishima nodded, glancing between the pair with their reluctant expressions. “Why don't you take a minute to, you know, remove stuff?”

Bakugou's eyes widened, but on Midoriya's face it looked strangely normal, and something about that fact made Midoriya stifle a laugh.

“I'll keep hold of it, if you want?” he continued, locking eyes with the concerned emeralds. “You can bring me a box each and I'll hold on to them until things are back to normal!”

“Yeah,” Bakugou nodded. “Okay.”

“You're meant to say 'thank you',” Midoriya pointed out, smirking a little. “Be nice, Deku.”

He could see Bakugou struggling to keep from scowling and yelling at him, but with everyone beginning to wake up and fill the common area, he had the sense to keep his mouth shut, to breathe deeply before he spoke.

“Thank you, Kirishima!” he squeaked instead, clapping his hands and flashing him a big smile. “You're the greatest!”

Midoriya snorted, hiding his face in his hand, but Kirishima only stared in awe. He was so damn torn, and Bakugou smirked when Midoriya lost another laugh.

“Let's go get ready for school, K- K-” Bakugou paused, grimacing. “Fuck that, I'm not saying it.”

“Why not, Deku?” Midoriya teased, leaning in closer with a smirk on his lips that made Kirishima and Bakugou both feel awkward – it was far too realistic for either of their liking.

Bakugou smiled sweetly, and Midoriya almost broke his composure when he saw it.

“Do you want me to punch you in the face, Kacchan?”

“Sure, nerd, why don't you do it with your quirk?”

Bakugou paused, glancing down at his scarred and battered hand, his carefully chosen expression gone in an instant.

“Oi, am I gonna break you?” he asked, strangely sincere. “Like, if I lift something too heavy or some shit?”

“No, you should be okay! Just, um, be careful with my quirk, yeah?”

“Yeah. Alright, let's go do this shit.”

He stood up from his chair, raising an eyebrow at Kirishima's baffled face, and shrugged slightly as he slid past.

“See you in ten, sh- Ugh. Kirishima.”

“Y-Yeah!” he stumbled out quickly, nodding. “I'll be in my room!”

With a last little nod, Bakugou headed toward the elevator, and Midoriya hurried to follow.

─────

“Oh hell no,” Bakugou growled, green eyes narrowing into a menacing glare. “You are not going to class looking like that.”

“I don't want to get in trouble, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined, and Bakugou almost punched him for using his voice so inappropriately. “I'll cry if they tell me off!”

“Stop making me look like such a loser nerd.”

“I caaaaan't!”

Growling under his breath, Bakugou took matters into his own hands, loosening Midoriya's belt so the pants sagged around his hips. He didn't, Midoriya noticed, pull them down nearly as far as Bakugou normally liked to wear them, so Midoriya allowed it with a little pout.

“And take this thing off,” he grumbled, snatching the messy red tie from around his neck. “You look like an idiot.”

“They tell you off every day for not wearing it!” Midoriya insisted. “I can't shrug it off like you can!”

“Ugh,” he grumbled, throwing it back around his neck reluctantly and tying it himself. “Fucking fine. People are gonna give you shit for it though.”

“I know, but at least I won't be in trouble with the teachers. I really did think about it!”

“You tell those assholes that they threatened detention if I didn't start wearing it properly,” Bakugou demanded. “And that you're just doing it for a a few fuckin' days to calm them down. You hear me?”

Midoriya nodded, looking down at the perfectly tied tie that he could never quite figure out for himself.

“And after heroics, you don't put it back on. They won't complain at you for the last five minutes.”

“Okay,” Midoriya conceded, pouting a little. “Kacchan I need to do your tie, too. They won't believe you did it.”

“Ugh.”

He didn't say no, just looked away wih a flush rising in his cheeks, so Midoriya took it as permission. Despite trying his best, it still turned out as short and lop-sided as always, nothing like the neat knot on his own collarbone.

“I saw you pull your pants up,” Bakugou accused, the moment he was finished with the tie. “Fuckin' fix them, don't make me look like such a lame-ass nerd.”

“Careful, Kacchan, or I'll iron all your shirts.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Watch me.”

They locked eyes for a moment, challenging each other, and finally Bakugou snorted a little.

“Stupidest threat I've ever heard.”

“It suits my current body, then,” Midoriya retorted. “Come on, we'll be late.”

“You better take good fuckin' class notes.”

“I will if you stop swearing in my voice.”

“Whatever.”

To Bakugou's credit, the moment they left the privacy of the dorms, he made an effort. He knew what was at stake, after all, and if that meant putting aside his pride for a few days then so be it, he wasn't going to get himself expelled over a stupid quirk.

“Deku!” Uraraka called, hurrying to catch up, and making Bakugou cringe when she slung an arm around his shoulders. “I didn't see you last night, is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Bakugou grunted, cringing as he tried to behave himself, his twitchy hand rising to pat her on the back lightly – the closest he could manage to a hug. “Um, wasn't feeling very well. S-Sorry, I hope I didn't worry you?”

“Oh! No! You poor thing! Are you feeling better now?”

“Uh...” He trailed off, snatching a glance at Midoriya – at his own body, with nerves hidden in his frown. “Kind of? I have a huge headache. I, um, might not be much fun today. Sorry.”

“That's okay! Just let me know if you need some rest and quiet!”

“Th-thanks.”

She leaned over a little as they walked, catching Midoriya's eye and flashing him a bright smile.

“Good morning, Bakugou! Did you have a nice weekend?”

“S'fine,” he muttered, shrugging before he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Boring.”

“Well, that's better than being awful!” she grinned. “I'm sure your parents were happy to see you!”

“Uh-huh.”

For a moment he felt panic seep through him – what was he going to say if she asked for details? He couldn't possibly tell her to mind her own business, like the real Bakugou might. He was gonna have to come up with a believable lie – but what if someone had seen him out with his parents?!

“K-Kacchan's Dad is always happy,” Bakugou spoke up, startling Midoriya for a moment. “He fusses and makes spicy curries and things. But the old- Um, his Mom, they just argue a bunch.”

“Aww, I'm sure she misses you still!” Uraraka cooed. “She probably just wants what's best for you!”

“Whatever,” Midoriya shrugged, resolving to thank Bakugou a thousand times later. “The food was good.”

“I'm glad!”

They parted ways at the classroom door, Uraraka heading over to greet the other girls before class, while Bakugou and Midoriya headed for their desks. For a brief moment they almost sat in the wrong seats, catching themselves just in time and exchanging an awkward glance as they switched places.

It was weird to not see that spiky blond mop in front of him, Midoriya thought. He almost had the urge to turn around and look, but he knew he wouldn't be satisfied by it anyway – not seeing his own face staring back at him.

“Wow, Blasty, you clean up good!” Ashido teased, making Midoriya jump when she leaned against the edge of the desk. “Why so fancy?”

“U-Um,” he hesitated, thinking back to Bakugou's stern words. “A-Assholes were making threats. Figured they needed a few days to calm down.”

“Aw, are they trying to kick you out again?” she pouted. “They're so determined to keep us apart!”

For a moment he froze, only the swift kick in the back of his chair jolting him back to the expecting eyes.

“Piss off,” he scowled, apologising a dozen times inside his head. “Might be worth it to not deal with you losers anymore.”

“Aww, I love you too, Bakugou!”

A pink hand ruffled his hair, then she finally left for her own desk, giving Midoriya space to breathe a sigh of relief. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slipped it out to check right as the bell rang, frowning again when he saw the name on screen.

“Good job, nerd. Maybe you can pull this shit off after all.”

─────

Despite the glares and silent threats, when gym class ended, Midoriya pulled his tie back around his neck. He'd been careful to leave the knot intact when he slipped it off, so he wouldn't have to redo it, but Bakugou was not happy.

For all the rules he'd broken in his time, Midoriya couldn't risk getting told off – he wasn't nearly brave enough to tell the teachers to suck it without crying as he did it.

He expected Bakugou to be on his ass for it the moment they got back to the dorms, but to Midoriya's surprise, he seemed to have disappeared. He found himself stuck in the common room, surrounded by Bakugou's squad, and somehow it was a lot easier to scowl than it had been during the day. He was too concerned about every word he said, too worried about screwing something up, the concentrating look on his face easily passing for Bakugou's frown.

“Wow, Midoriya! Look at you!!”

Midoriya's head whipped up, ignoring the sniggers from Bakugou's friends in favour of finding the source of the sudden commotion. His stomach sank when he saw, his cheeks burning when he heard Ashido's low whistle.

“Wow, Midoriya is a cutie,” she whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. “Look at that face!”

Midoriya reached for his phone, tapping out an angry message, but Bakugou ignored the vibration in his pocket in favour of smiling at the classmates surrounding him. For all his infuriating decisions, in that moment, he really did pull off the Midoriya-brand embarrassed laughter.

“It was just so annoying, you know?” he explained with an awkward smile. “And every time I looked in the mirror it was all depressing and stuff! So I thought I'd, you know, make an effort!”

The messy green curls were no more, shorn down to almost nothing on the sides and back, the top trimmed and tamed into some kind of uniformity.

Midoriya refused to admit that it looked good on him.

Instead he stormed out, heading straight for Bakugou's bedroom and digging through the closet for what he fondly referred to as “the Mitsuki outfits”. Bakugou was much less polite about them, but Midoriya had always defended her – they looked good on him, and they'd be useful for award ceremonies and parties! He should save them, just in case!

And now they were going to be put to good use, as Midoriya changed into the slim-fitting pants, still crisp and ironed from when she bought them, and a blue button-up shirt. Bakugou looked good in blue, they all knew it, but he claimed he didn't like it – preferred his myriad of black outfits with occasional red and orange thrown in.

Things had settled a little when he made it back downstairs, getting an immediate glare from Bakugou the moment he looked up – he couldn't complain in front of everyone, though, not after his own stunt. Their classmates seemed surprised, but none of them dared to question him, and Midoriya only smirked when he caught Kaminari looking.

“Gotta up your game, now that Midoriya has?” he teased. “You've got it bad, don't you?”

Midoriya tilted his head slightly, confused, but before he had a chance to question it he was cut off by Bakugou himself – or Midoriya, depending who you asked.

“After dinner,” he said firmly – immediately realising his mistake and forcing his tone to soften a little. “We're gonna train together, right? You're not going out?”

“Yeah,” Midoriya agreed, his narrowed eyes telling Bakugou exactly what a tantrum he was in for. “I'll be there.”

─────

“How do you make the shitty thing activate?” Bakugou demanded, the moment the gym door swung closed behind Midoriya's borrowed frame. “I tried so many fuckin' things and it didn't happen.”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Midoriya mused, folding his arms stubbornly. “Maybe I would teach you if you hadn't permanently altered my appearance.”

“Permanent?” Bakugou snorted. “It's hair, Deku. I was tired of looking at it on you, let alone on myself. Figured I'd take the opportunity to teach you about a thing called cutting your hair.”

“You're an asshole.”

“Like you didn't know that already.”

They fell silent for a moment, and finally Midoriya sighed, conceding.

“You have to teach me too,” he said softly. “We were lucky we could get away with not using them today, but there's no way it'll happen two days in a row. We're gonna have to fight something or someone tomorrow and I don't think I can do that in your body as it is, let alone with no quirk.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed, much to Midoriya's surprise. “Me too.”

They put their arguments aside, settling instead into the meet-up that had become a regular occurrence. Unlike most weeks, though, there were no blows charged with frustration, no annoyed words and half-baked insults, it was just a weirdly quiet discussion.

“You gotta clench everything – um, your buttocks mostly – Yes I'm serious, Kacchan, just listen!! And then as loud as you can in your mind you yell SMASH and... hope for the best.”

“Haah?!”

“I knoooow,” he whined. “It sounds silly, I know! Just, um, try it out?”

Bakugou huffed, but he closed his eyes and concentrated all the same, a tiny spark of green electricity forming around his leg.

“Yeah! Like that!” Midoriya praised, realising too late how weird it sounded in Bakugou's voice. “Don't try to use it too hard, okay? That's how I broke my bones, and that hurts.”

After a few more tests, Bakugou nodded, letting the energy dissipate.

“Alright, your turn. Okay, um, focus on your hand and how it... feels, but inside.”

Midoriya stared at the hand attached to him, at the flawless skin and filed nails, the calluses on his fingers that felt hard, but not rough, and somehow didn't detract from the smoothness of the skin.

“The inside,” Bakugou repeated. “Stop muttering about my nails, you weird creep.”

Midoriya blushed, but didn't bother to argue, trying again to concentrate on the appendages so different from his own – so much less battered and broken.

“Then think about pushing that energy out,” he continued, “feel the sweat gathering as you push the energy out, and let them mix.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the first little pop, but then they were both smiling, looking at each other with an odd glee.

“I got it, Kacchan!”

“Yeah you did, nerd. Come on, let's spar.”

“Already?!”

“How else are we gonna learn?”

Midoriya conceded a nod, and soon things fell back into a sense of normalcy – the two of them dodging and weaving, responding to each other's movements, learning how to control their new bodies with their weird weight balances and wrong-lengthed limbs. Other than the lack of power, it felt just like any other session between them, and that was weirdly comforting after a day of feeling cautious and out of place.

“Here, let me show you,” Bakugou insisted, when Midoriya failed to aim his blast once more. “Gimme.”

He stood behind Midoriya's back, reaching around his waist, and Midoriya immediately blushed when the larger hands landed over his. It felt weird to be the little one for once, despite his new height, suddenly hyper-focussed on his tiny waist and strangely delicate hands.

“It'll help your balance, too,” Bakugou informed him, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “You keep sending yourself reeling every time you make a spark.”

“And you keep failing to activate one for all,” Midoriya pouted. “I see the signs, don't act like you're so much better!”

“I didn't mean it like that,” Bakugou's voice – Midoriya's voice – remained soft, when Midoriya expected argument. “It was just advice, okay? Trying to help.”

“Oh.”

His cheeks were still flushed when they parted, and he was surprised to find that Bakugou's were too, before he quickly turned away to check the clock.

“I need sleep,” he grumbled. “Um, don't touch my stuff, nerd. Don't mess up my bed.”

“Be nice to my merch,” Midoriya returned with a smile. “Sweet dreams, Kacchan, I hope you sleep well!”

“Yeah, you too. Uh, because, y'know, I don't want my body ruined.”

“Yeah,” Midoriya giggled, immediately regretting it with how wrong it sounded. “Goodnight.”