Bonnie & Klein.

Seven.

Izuku is sitting at the kitchen bar and staring into space like a neverland lost boy when Deku pops the front door, and walks in carrying takeout.

"I literally do not understand people that yell at service workers," Deku says, flinging out blackwhip again to shut the door behind him. A good use of Banjo's quirk, for sure. "It won't kill you to wait an extra five minutes for spicy chicken. I worked at that pop-up stand for two summers – never. Again."

"I hated that job," Izuku says, automatically. He watches Deku set down the takeout bags, and swallows thickly. He's still struggling to bring himself back to reality (and at this point, he's questioning the definition of the word). Izuku clears his throat, "Um, was everything okay at the office?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean, no not really, but it's fine for now." Deku uses the hem of his tank-top to wipe his sweaty hands, and Izuku is amazed that he went to the office with his tattoos so clearly visible. He doesn't have as many as the other Katsuki, sure, but it's no doubt he has job security if he can show up to work in gym shorts on his off day. Izuku shakes his train of thought, and lifts his eyes off Deku's legs.

"What do you mean?"

Deku flips his cap off his head, pushes his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, then secures the hat again.

"The US feds flew in overnight. Apparently their time-graphs are going crazy. They wanted to call a national hero meeting but I talked them down under the condition that Kacchan and I get involved. These heroes are old colleagues of ours, thankfully for us – but now Mr. Mobius's hospital room is crawling with Americans."

Izuku rubs across his mouth in thought.

"If they find out we're here, it's going to turn into a political nightmare."

"Yep. Tsuragamae won't go down without a fight, either. He's playing civil right now, but it's a close thing."

Wow, that old dog is still kicking.

"Is Mobius still asleep?"

"For now. But that's my worry, not yours." Deku smiles, "We'll handle it."

Izuku raises an eyebrow, "I kinda' think it's my worry too."

Deku stops, blinks, then laughs. He begins to unpack the takeout boxes, so the smell of chow-mein floods the kitchen. Izuku finds it cute that despite their luxurious lifestyle, their future-selves still enjoy the classic junk food. Habits don't just die hard, but go down swinging.

"Sorry, sorry. Force of – nevermind. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

Izuku physically feels his face go red before he can stop it. He opens his mouth, and struggles to look his older-self in the eye.

"Um."

Deku smirks, and Izuku has the sudden realization that he's asking because he knows.

"I'm relieved they worked it out."

Izuku slaps a hand on the counter and blurts, "How?"

"Cameras," Deku points. He slips his phone out of his back pocket, flips it in hand, and waves it around. "I'm very fortunate to have a private office."

Izuku can imagine it so clearly in his head; Deku sat at a desk with the door shut, kicked back with a hand between his legs. What he would give for that security footage.

"You are awfully bold," Izuku teases, still warm in the face (but in a way, relieved). Deku just smiles at him.

"Pot, meet kettle."