Honeyed Touch

Overheated

Izuku's desk was messy. He had been sitting up, sleepless, watching hero analysis videos and nothing down the good points. He had been doing so for around two hours now, putting him at 1 am in the quiet of his surprisingly roomy dorm. The screen lit up his face with stark blue light as he watched the camera pan to Mt. Lady, who had saved a civilian from the crossfire and put him atop an out of the way building. She kept back into battle, feet hard against the double lane highway she was using as a track. The green-haired teen scrawled a note about the limitations of her quirk in his notebook.

The young hero glanced down at the digital alarm clock situated next to his desktop and sighed. He should really be getting some sleep, but his mind was still reeling from the day before, and this is the only thing he could think of to calm down. Hero training had just started yesterday, and he had almost gotten tossed out on the first day. It was just fortunate that Aizawa had seen anything in him, or else he would've been gone. So here he was, investing his time into haplessly watching his favorite heroes on screen, hoping it would make him better.

Izuku thought hard about the rest of the class. They were all born with amazing quirks, and he had mere days to get used to his own. Most of them already demonstrated a great air of control over their quirks. Especially Kaachan. The way the hot-headed blond managed to exercise near complete control of his dangerous quirk was something unique from the rest of class 1-A. But how? It was hard enough for Izuku to consolidate his power to one finger; he couldn't imagine his hands being in constant danger of combustion. He was sure that if he had Kaachan's quirk, he would have slipped up by now. But after all these years, he had never seen Katsuki mistakenly hurt someone with his quirk.

Izuku's mind raced. He's compiled quite a few notes on Katsuki and his quirk in the past, but it was high time to compile it. The secret to controlling his own quirk could be found in Kaachan's methods! And Izuku was going to try and pry that information from him, even if it meant taking a few beatings from his childhood "friend".

He pulled a fresh notebook from the shelf and labeled it in thick black sharpie.

#15: Kaachan

Now that he had somewhat of a plan, he was starting to relax. He left the notebook on his desk and flopped down onto the soft all-might duvet covering his bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.
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Katsuki woke up with a headache. The pain was dull, and throbbing, culminating between his eyes. He snarled as he got up out of the bed, rubbing his eyes out of sleep with the back of his hands. It was a new day, and the blonde was already pissed beyond belief. They had done Aizawa's little demonstration of strength yesterday, and the way Bakugou had overworked himself left him tense and sore. His hands were still humming with the memory of the many explosions he had produced the day prior. He looked down at his palms. They were red and hot to the touch, like a rope burn. He let out a soft hiss as he drew his fingers over his abused hands.

Oh well. Becoming the #1 hero meant that he had to push himself through days like this, even if it meant more pain. He threw on his jacket and headed to class, marching through the exhaustion with hardened confidence.
The walk there actually helped with his headache. The morning penciled over grey buildings with soft golden beams, warming the air to a comfortable 70 degrees. Katsuki kept a brisk pace, a cool, floral breeze brushing against his face as he walked. This was one of the few times the blonde was placid, agreeable even, walking alone in the morning. Then, as if to purposely disturb his calm thoughts, he heard a smattering of footprints, bulky sneakers against the concrete. He already knew who it was before he turned with a grimace.

A disheveled, tired-looking Izuku ran up to meet his pace, smiling hesitantly.

"What the hell do you want? I'm not in the mood." Growled Katsuki at the green-haired teen. Not that Bakugou was ever in the mood to deal with Deku. Izuku widened his smile a bit at the blonde, and Katsuki could tell he was both hopeful and hesitant.