Eighteen year old Izuku Midoriya never expected that his whole life would change the day that a certain angry blond walked into his florist shop. Katsuki Bakugo demands that he gets a bouquet to passive-aggressively flip off his cheating boyfriend...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I had my reasons for being an introvert who doesn't do college parties.
One: They're loud.
My eardrums are about to explode. The electronic pop and trashy rap is awful.
But frat boys are worse. They're all shouting, swearing, matching letterman jackets, and giving each other 'bro' hugs — you know, the weird kind where they slap each other on the back too roughly.
As we glide through the doorway, Kacchan puts an arm around my waist and pulls me close so that our hips are touching. He leans down and murmurs in my ear, "Don't look so tense."
"I'm not tense," I hiss back.
Kacchan gives some dude a nod of acknowledgement, the kind that's all chin-jut-because-I'm-too-cool-to-actually-say-hello-to-you. "Yes, you are," he whispers. "I can feel you, you're rigid."
I try to relax my muscles. "Sorry."
"Yo! Katsuki!" A short male with electric yellow hair bounds over to us. He holds his hand out for a high-five.
"Hey, Dunce-face."
So, I'm not the only one who gets derogatory nicknames?
"C'mon man, don't leave me hanging!" he waves his palm out.
Kacchan sighs and slaps his friend's palm. "Hey, this is my new boyfriend. Midoriya, Kaminari, my roommate. Kaminari, Midoriya."
"Midobro! Sup?" Kaminari moves in to give me a hug.
Extroverts are weird. I endure the embrace stiffly, awkwardly patting his back until he releases me. "Uh, nice to meet you."
"Okay, Dunce-face, give him some space." Kacchan comes to my rescue.
"Soooo," Kaminari takes a swig from his bright red Solo cup. "You're off Kirishima again?"
"Mmm," Kacchan says noncommittally.
"Alright. Catch ya later!"
"See ya," Kacchan says.
I wave shyly as he hops away.
"Want a drink, Deku?"
"Uh, no thanks."
"Okay. Stay right here, I'm gonna get a beer."
I lean against the wall while he vanishes. A bunch of guys give me weird stares and I shift uncomfortably, pulling down the hem of my freshly-cropped shirt.
Experimentally, I slide the sunglasses onto my nose. Through the now-darkened world, I see people start to ignore me. Huh.
Kacchan returns, a glass beer bottle in hand.
"Hey," I greet him. "These sunnies actually worked."
He plucks them off the bridge of my nose. "Yeah, but you look weird wearing them while you talk to me." He folds them up for me and slides them onto the neckline of my shirt.
