hand holding (day)

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Icyhot's face being the first one I see every morning is starting to get old.

And just when I think I can't be any more irritated, my frustration increases when he reaches into his bag to pull out my homework. Peering inside, I notice he's packed the cookbook I gifted him. I don't know when he'll have time to look at it during school hours, but the thought makes me want to gag anyway.

He stands too close to me in the elevator for my liking. I take a large step away from him and lean my back against the wall. Why does he always pout when I create space between us? That shit's annoying.

The silence as we stroll through the common room digs at my brain. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hate having Icyhot next to me but I hate having a quiet Icyhot next to me even more. If he's going to follow me around like some stray dog, he can at least try to make conversation. Otherwise he just comes off as creepy.

"Talk to me, idiot," I say. "Or tell me what my task is for the day."

A tiny smile appears on his face. He still doesn't say anything. But then, hesitantly, he moves closer to me and cups his hand around mine. My first instinct is to pull away, but his grip is tight enough that I can't break from him so easily.

I scowl at him. "No way."

His expression remains blank. "I won't have you do it when others are around. I know how embarrassed you were when I had you carry me."

"I WASN'T EMBARRASSED!"

He tilts his head. "Really? You acted like you were."

I push open the door to outside with my right hand, my left still held captive by Icyhot's. His grip loosens a bit, which relieves me. I don't need those icy fingertips of his pressing into my skin so harshly.

"My goal isn't to make you feel uncomfortable, Bakugou."

I stop walking. "What is your goal, then?"

He shrugs. "I just want to help you."

"You can start by letting go of my hand."

He ignores my request and gives my hand a small squeeze. "We still have a deal, you know."

We continue walking. My hand rests limply in his. No way in hell am I reciprocating this. It's too bizarre, and my body's not responding well to it at all. Goosebumps dance along my arms as I try to ignore how awkward this whole thing is.

If I had to picture Hell, I figure it probably looks like this. Icyhot holding my hand. Talk about a lifetime of scarred memories. No one's around to witness this, thank God. The second I spot anybody, I'm yanking my hand away.

I could handle the handshake. I could handle carrying him around. And I could handle buying him that stupid ass cookbook. But this? I don't care how much the bastard likes affection. This is shit that couples do, and we're the farthest thing from that. I'd rather cut both my hands off and never use my quirk again than be Icyhot's boyfriend. 

"I hate you," I mutter.

"I'm okay with that."

Though when I shift my eyes to meet his face, his expression says the exact opposite.

"Damn it."

Ignoring the voice in my head that's calling me a dumbass, I allow my hand to relax into his. I squeeze it a few times, each time met with him squeezing mine back. I shove my other hand into my pants pocket and hang my head.

I kick a rock the size of my fist as we walk across campus. I mutter a few obscenities along the way, but I keep a tight hold on his hand. After a while, it doesn't feel as cold as it originally did, so that's a positive. Still, that doesn't settle the weird tingles that take over my body.

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