The Art of Listening

Chapter 12 - Explosions

Izuku

"Kacchan, can't you just tell me where we're going?" Izuku asked as his foot caught some unknown bump in the sidewalk and he stumbled for the second time for the second time since he and Kacchan began this wild adventure.

Strong hands caught his shoulders to stable him.

"Not gonna happen, nerd," Katsuki's rough voice came from behind him.

Izuku whined in protest. They'd been at this game far longer than he anticipated. Shoot. He hadn't even seen this coming. He'd finally gotten all five of his senses back only to have one stolen again by his brusque, secretive gremlin of a boyfriend.

Izuku had had a long day at the Bakugou's studio. They'd asked him to model their upcoming fall line, and he'd eagerly agreed. They'd fitted him with a bunch of their designs, many of which featured the fall colors that were about to be in season as well as cardigan. And Izuku loved cardigans. He left the studio in one of the outfits he'd modeled, a simple outfit - dark blue jeans, a white v-neck, and a long, light, coppery-brown cardigan with a pair of dark brown oxfords. He'd felt rather dapper, if he did say some himself.

On his way back to the dorm, he grabbed a latté and black coffee for himself and Katsuki from a local coffee place that he'd liked. He was tired, but he was in a good mood.

That good mood immediately plummeted and went through waves of fear, confusion, and utter exasperation as he walked into the dorm, set down the cups of coffee, and was promptly tackled onto the bed.

Izuku screeched bloody murder as his assailant tackled him and forced a blindfold around his eyes. The scent of cinnamon and fire told him who exactly it was, but his mind wasn't working as fast as his nose. He instantly panicked. With his eyes out of commission for the time being, Izuku relied on his only viable sense that he had left. Touch. His elbow flew back and landed square in his assailant's chest. He heard a cough and a wheeze and he darted out from below his attacked. Izuku ripped the blindfold from his eyes only to see a red-faced Kacchan laying on the bed, clutching his chest.

"What the fuck, Shitty Deku?" the blond groused as he struggled to get air back into his lungs.

Izuku stared at him with his wide, green eyes. "Ohmygosh! Kacchan! I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you. Just - ugh - someone tried to tackle me and I panicked and - ugh! I'm sorry!" he said, his voice sickeningly full of remorse. But that remorse quickly subsided and was replaced with irritation and exasperation. "What were you even doing, Kacchan? Don't you know by now that me and surprise attacks don't work? Couldn't you have warned me? You don't just go tackling people when they walk in the door! What if you were a murderer or something!"

"Fuck," he grumbled. "I wasn't going to murder you, Freckles."

Izuku lifted the blindfold up, which turned out to be a black strip of fabric.

"Then what's this?" he asked.

Katsuki rolled over onto his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "I was trying to surprise you, but that blew the fuck up."

Izuku plopped down beside him. "Well, you can still surprise me," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You're so dramatic. I don't even know what's going on."

A withering glare was sent his way. "And you won't until I fuckin' tell you, Deku."

Again, Izuku rolled his eyes. He got up and retrieved his latté. "Uh huh," he muttered into the rim of the cup.

But that was what led to him being carted out of his dorm with a blindfold wrapped around his eyes. Katsuki was attempting to guide him down the street, but he was honestly very terrible at it.