✓THE SPACE BETWEEN THE STARS|| BakuDeku Au

Chapter Seven: Lovely Blemishes

Beautiful↲ 
Bazzi Ft. Camilla Cabello

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel. Love your imperfections, every angle . . ."

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This had to be some type of dream, right?   

Izuku had found himself still struggling to comprehend the whirlwind of things happening around him, his mind desperately pulling at the seams of all possible outcomes. He had heard voices when his mother ordered him to his room, however, he had not been too bothered to know what said voiced were saying. No, he was too far down a rabbit hole of his own at that particular moment — wondering how he would make it up to his mother for his mistakes. Wondering how the hell he was going to come up with enough money to pay the bills this month, would be more accurate.

He was well aware of his mother's . . . substance abuse, as he had been for quite some time now. As much as he wanted to blame her for it, Izuku could never muster up the energy nor courage to do so. In fact, Izuku had soon discovered himself constructing excuses for her, covering the trail of breadcrumbs she displayed for the world to see with a thin veil. 

College was already hard enough as it is, drowning in student loans and debt — not to mention having to obtain multiple odd jobs in order to keep the lights on and food in the fridge. The poor boy had it bad.

He was rather shocked when Aizawa introduced himself as Ground Zero's manager, if he were being frank he had not realized who the blond at the club was last week. If anything, Izuku just saw him as another random drunk man . . . a pretty, random, drunk man. One who just so happened to be famous at that. But if he wanted to divulge further into his shock, it was the fact that the man seemed so familiar.

Izuku would have remembered seeing such a man of Aizawa's . . . manner. It was no doubt he was attractive, someone he most likely would have enjoyed drawing, straight nose, matured and insomniac eyes, unruly hair. A fresh taste from the picture-perfect model's in his Illustration of the Human Form class, unlike them, he was blemished, had obvious feature defaults. The man looked human. Izuku definitely would have remembered him.

So where has he seen the man from?

Pushing those thoughts aside, Izuku chose to focus his attention on Aizawa's words; finally allowing them to register in his mind. The idea the elder was proposing was rather outlandish, something you'd typically see out of a book or movie. Izuku nearly permitted a soft laugh to escape his mouth at the proffer. But then those words settled in.

"We can work out a deal with you, if you'd like. My client is rather wealthy Izu — Midoriya, anything you want it's yours. Of course, we'd have to work out some conditions and rules should you choose to accept what we're offering,"

Anything he wanted.

Naturally, his mind went to the more selfish items he could derive from the affairs at hand, cars, housing, electronics. Nevertheless, Izuku knew he had to be rational and analytical about his terms of service — posing as a celebrity's significant other was already a hard pill to swallow. They would most likely want him to obtain some lavish lifestyle for the public eye, if his predictions were right, interviews, parties, as well as other factors would be brought on their side of the table. He's basically be living the life he only ever dreamed about.

So his conditions were simple enough, compared to what they would be asking of him. He needed money. It was ironic almost, he remembered reading something somewhere along the lines of 'Money being the root of all evil'; however, in his case, money was the root of all his problem being solved. Now, he didn't need a crazy amount of it, that would just be egotistical of him . . . But enough for the next few months.

However, another notion had resurfaced itself to the shorelines of Izuku's mind.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Izuku questioned the black-haired man, arms folded and eyebrows knitted.

"Excuse me?"

"You waltz in here, tell me you're a celebrity's manager and automatically expect me to believe you?" he scoffed, "I'm going to need some proof."

Aizawa smiled, an odd reaction, especially since the younger was accusing him of being a liar. "Look me up online, kid."

So, he did. After minutes of scrolling on the internet, a few articles popped up, thus confirming the man was telling the truth. However, Izuku still could not seem to shake the feeling that something was off. The entire notion was still so . . . peculiar. What, he bumps into a famous person while he's drunk, saves his life, his fans go crazy and think they're dating because of a picture, and now Izuku has to pretend to be his boyfriend for a few months? 

If anything, Izuku was having an out of body experience. His mind was moving rather briskly, too fast at this point — everything else within him had begun to struggle with keeping up. It was clear they were offering money . . . And, damn it, money was something he really needed at the moment . . . But this entire submission was crazy! Too crazy.

"Look," Aizawa began after a while, "Would it help if you met up with him?"

". . . Hm? Who?"

"Ground Zero — or, Bakugou . . . Katsuki Bakugou," the elder drawled, carefully and precisely pronouncing each and every syllable tentatively. It was almost as if he were attempting to put Izuku in a trance.

Emerald eyes flickered down, tracing every single line or zig-zag in the carpet below. "Yeah," Izuku muttered, finally allowing his thoughts to consume him once Aizawa made his way out the door.

Izuku couldn't help but think back to that night, the night he assumed his life had been altered. The night he met Katsuki at the club. Everything from a week ago was still imprinted into his brain, fresh, new, and still teeming with life. Obnoxious, techno-pop drowned his ears, swimming into his mind and penetrating any rational, tranquility-filled thoughts he once had. The sensation of perspiration lingering in the moist, sultry air of the club — tainting it with a new low. But amidst all the chaos of the night . . . Izuku found himself concentrating on Katsuki and Katsuki alone.

In his defense, it was hard not to at the time. The man, despite being 'picture-perfect' like the models he was used to, was still rather spellbinding to draw. He was perfect, but in a natural sense . . . He did not appear to be made of porcelain, drenched from head to toe in makeup — ghastly makeup shrouding any blemish he may or may not have. No, Izuku had seen enough to know the difference between real and fake.

Katsuki was not porcelain, plastic, or made of clay; he was sculpted from the richest of stones, carved from the finest of woods. Everything about the male from that night was so sharp and defined, from his hair to the crisp clothing he wore. Izuku's mind flooded an enthralling hue of scarlet — the same shade of red he recognized as the blond's eyes.

He loved those eyes. More particularly, loved to draw them.

The freckled male had been so caught up in his own thinking, he hadn't even realized that seconds turned into minutes, and minutes to hours. That is until the bedroom door creaked open with a groan, the scarlet hue in his mind being replaced with the filtered sunsetting light from the window by his desk.

Izuku's gaze flickered upwards, instantly clashing with the wide, carmine eyes — and was greeted with a shocked, sharp, defined face. It was Katsuki Bakugou.

"Hello, I'm Izuku. Izuku Midoriya,"

Hello Cricket Cultists!!

Wow.

. . . Who's ready for some BkDk re-meeting? Reunite? Idk at this point . . . 

You know what I'm excited for, though? Some more Izuku drawing scenes . . . more preferably a session between Katsuki and Izuku . . . tehehehe.

Theories?

Comments?

Guess who officially starts high school tomorrow? I gotta wake up hella early now, ughhhhhhhhhh. Idk how updates will be after this, just a reminder.

Until we meet again!!!