Chapter Text
The first time it happened was probably right around the sports festival, if Katsuki had to pick a date.
You know what? Yeah. Like, right after the sports festival.
Katsuki was… not in the best mental space, to put it fucking lightly. That afternoon was probably the angriest he’s ever been – slighted by the worlds most annoying fucking weirdo in front of thousands and thousands of people. Great. Fucking– great.
The afternoon sun hung precariously in the sky as he walked back to the locker rooms, falling back behind the rest of his annoying ass class. They never shut up, and he was in no fucking mood to speak to anyone at all. Even Kirishima kept his distance, which was a smart fucking move. He’s the only one of them with at least one brain cell anyways.
And then, he sees him.
The fucking weak, stupid, ugly, dramatic bastard who caused all of this mess – Icyhot himself. He fucked off right after closing ceremonies, like he fucking knew what he did was fucked up. Or… what he didn’t do. Whatever.
All Katsuki knows right now, all Katsuki can even think about right now, is punching Icyhot is his stupid fucking face.
So, to hell with it. To hell with All Might and Aizawa and everyone who just gave him an earful about his “behavior” or his “attitude” today and blah blah blah. Who cares about that anyways. What he needs is– is to stop feeling so damn pissed off.
The guy is standing halfway in the woods, away from the main walkway that goes between the stadium and the school. He’s alone, just standing there like the fucking freak he is – staring into nothingness like always.
If Katsuki couldn’t officially beat the bastard in the stadium, he’ll be fucking sure to officially beat him now.
“Hey!” he yells, stomping up to Half and Half. The dude turns around, and his face is just as blank and emotionless as ever.
And Icyhot– says nothing. God, somehow he makes even silence irritating.
“What, you’re so fucking high and mighty that you can’t even speak?” Katsuki spits, continuing to trudge towards him. “I’m fucking talking to you–”
“What do you want.”
His voice is low, angry. And isn’t that just fucking– just fucking swell.
“Oh now you’re gonna get mad? Now?" Katsuki taunts. He pushes Icyhot backwards, right in his chest. He’s fucking doing this. He needs to fight, or else he’ll blow this whole fucking school sky high.
“Don’t touch me,” Icyhot snaps. He takes half a step back and tries to brush Katsuki’s hands off.
“Fuck you. I can’t fucking believe you, you bastard–” Katsuki pushes him again, and this time Icyhot shoves him back, hard.
He has the fucking balls to get into Katsuki’s face, his hands clenched at his sides.
“I said, don’t touch me.”
And what really got it started, what really made Katsuki see fucking red, literally – was the little whisp of flame the floats off his ugly fucking mug when he says that shit.
His fucking fire. His stupid ass fire that Katsuki wanted to– needed to face not 20 minutes earlier. It just… shows up. After a few insults, and a push.
For fucks sake.
He swings. He’s so goddamn angry – he doesn’t care about the stupid banter anymore. He fucking swings.
Icyhot dodges easily. Like he was expecting it, which – he probably was. It’s not like Katsuki came over here to just talk, anyways.
But what was kind of surprising, coming from mister Ice Prince himself, at least– was that Half and Half swings back. With almost no hesitation.
He doesn’t really seem like the type to get into fights like this. He half expected the guy to just… fuck off. Walk away. But now Katsuki’s blocking some well-placed punches that hit hard, and Icyhot has this fucking look on his face.
He looks… pissed off. Almost as mad as Katsuki, even.
He didn’t really think that face could show anything other than that annoying ass blank stare. It’s– fucking weird. The anger– makes Katsuki feel good, for some reason. Like he’s winning.
They just… fight. It only lasts a little while – it’s been a long, stupid day for both of them. They don’t use quirks, though – the teachers were already pissed enough at Katsuki, and he doesn’t need his quirk to put the bastard in his place. Just his fists.
Both of them get some good hits in, and before long they’re slowing down, breathing heavy as they stare at each other with their fists up. Katsuki’s lip is busted, and Icyhot’s ear is swollen as shit.
He wipes at his lip, and relaxes his stance when he’s pretty sure this shit is over.
“Well at least I got one good fight out of you today, you fucking prick.”
Icyhot is panting, but nods. “Yeah,” he says, lowering his hands too. “Sorry, for what it’s worth.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Shut up. Don’t say that shit unless you mean it.” He grabs his uniform jacket off the ground and starts to walk back to the school.
“I do mean it,” he says.
Katsuki turns to look at him, and the blank face is still gone. He looks determined, sincere. Which is – fucking good, he guesses.
Katsuki turns once again towards the school, walking away.
“Whatever. Next time you want to bitch about your family, leave me the fuck out of it.”
It happens again about a week later.
After the sports fest, it’s obvious that the two of them are on a different level than the other extras in the class. Even Aizawa knows it, considering how he and Icyhot are never on the same team during practicals.
It’s to give everyone else a fighting chance. To keep things even.
Even on days like today, when Icyhot is grouped with nobodies like Grape Head and Sparkle Kid for three-on-threes, the asshole is barely even trying.
Katsuki watches as Icyhot just stands in the ring, chucking ice at all three of his opponents in the blink of an eye as soon as ‘Zawa says “start”. Even Four-Eyes couldn’t outrun it. The match ends after everyone is trapped, and the other two in his group didn’t do a fucking thing.
“Cheap shot, Todoroki. I told you the objective here was teamwork. Try not to rely on your quirk so much,” Aizawa calls, and he sounds kind of annoyed.
And Icyhot just looks at him with that fucking irritating nothingness, that I’m-a-weird-fucking-robot face, and just nods.
“Yes sensei,” he says, as he melts Four-Eyes and Sparky and Sugar Dude out of the ice.
It’s just– fucking infuriating to watch him coast through absolutely everything without any effort whatsoever. The guy doesn’t give a single shit about anything. Katsuki works hard – harder than anyone else here, that’s for sure – and Icyhot still thinks he’s better.
Katsuki will be damned if there’s any doubt that he’s the best student in the class. Hell, best in the school.
“Oi, Half and Half,” he says, once the locker room is almost empty besides the two of them. “You really think you can half-ass your way through everything, huh?”
Icyhot shuts his locker and doesn’t even look at Katsuki. He starts to walk towards the showers.
“Don’t fucking– ignore me, asshole,” Katsuki demands, and grabs the back of his gym jacket.
Icyhot twists and smacks Katsuki’s arm off.
“What the hell is your problem?” he asks, as if it’s – as if it’s Katsuki who’s the asshole here.
“What’s my problem? Are you fucking serious?” he yells, stepping up to the tall bastard. “My problem is you being an arrogant piece of shit. You didn’t even fucking try out there.”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with you,” he says, staring at Katsuki like he’s better, like he’s above him–
“You didn’t even fucking deny it! If you really don’t give a shit, then fucking leave. Go to a different school, dickhead.” Katsuki’s fuming now, looking at his stupid robot face. He’s so damn annoying.
The guy just shrugs, his eyes darkening ever so slightly.
“Why don’t you make me?”
The fucking balls on this fucker–
Katsuki’s palms crackle with pure rage. “Meet me outside, then. Since you’re so fucking tough,” he growls, and slams the doors to the locker room open.
Make me, he said. The fucking audacity – Katsuki’s ready to kill this kid.
He finds a good spot– a small fielded area in the woods right behind the Gym Gamma locker rooms. There’s a perimeter of blooming trees around it, so it’s pretty well-hidden from the rest of campus and the grass provides decent padding on the ground, despite the presence of roots and sticks and shit. It’ll work. It’s the end of the day, and no one will be looking for them.
Katsuki waits, half expecting Icyhot not to show up. But he does. He just strolls right over, not a care in the fucking world.
“Let’s make this quick,” he says, taking off his blazer like they’re about to fucking have lunch or something. “I have a train to catch.”
And that’s the last straw. This cocky bastard is gonna get it.
Katsuki cracks his knuckles and throws a right hook – Icyhot blocks. Katsuki spins, kicks him in his side, throws a punch at his solar plexus – he blocks that too.
“Come on, you weak ass–” Katsuki roars in his face, pushing Halfie as hard as he can. He stumbles backwards.
And right then, there’s a twitch in Icyhot’s face. It’s like the robot mask he’s always wearing just got a crack in it.
“You’re insane,” he spits through gritted teeth, and he finally starts to come at Katsuki instead of just blocking. He grunts as he throws a punch at the left side of Katsuki’s head, but it’s way too easy to catch his hand. It’s a big opening, and Katsuki’s gonna fucking use it.
He lifts his leg, and knees Icyhot in the gut.
Icyhot lets out an “oof” and doubles over, coughing.
“Is that what it’ll take to get you to stop half-assing? Fight me for real!” Katsuki yells. There’s no way in hell this idiot should have let that happen. He left his entire abdomen open, for fuck's sake. Katsuki’s seen Icyhot fight for real, and he doesn’t make dumb mistakes like that.
It makes him even angrier – he still doesn’t respect Katsuki enough to fucking try.
Icyhot wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His face is different now – the muscles in his jaw are taught and his eyes look like they could burn holes through Katsuki. He looks– really, really fuckin’ pissed.
Finally. It’s about damn time.
They go at it. Icyhot hits hard – Katsuki’s man enough to admit that. This time is different than last time, though: Icyhot is way more angry, and they both have much more energy to burn.
“Is that all you got?” Katsuki taunts through heavy breaths. “I’d expect more from Endeavor’s kid since he’s such a fucking hard ass.”
And– Katsuki sort of knew what he was doing when he said that. It’s obvious that there’s some weird tension between Icyhot and Endeavor – why the hell else would he be so weird about using that power of his?
But what he sure as hell didn’t know – as Icyhot slowly drops his hands and his face starts to literally light on fucking fire – was that apparently there is a limit to his perfect composure, and Katsuki just blazed right past it.
Icyhot stares at him, and Katsuki can fucking see the heat bending the air surrounding his left side.
“Shut up, ” he seethes, his hands shaking with rage at his sides.
Katsuki smiles wide. Now we’re getting somewhere. The words come out of his mouth like they were waiting impatiently on his tongue–
“Why don’t you make me?”
Icyhot lunges at Katsuki and tackles him to the ground in a second, and just– starts punching. And it takes Katsuki a good couple of seconds, a few sloppy blocks to actually get a handle on it and push him off.
It feels– it feels fucking intense. They guy shows less emotion than a damn goldfish, but now– now Katsuki can tell, can feel that this is the real Icyhot, and he’s not fucking holding back. Finally.
They spar on the ground for a while – well, not really spar, more like angrily wrestle – and after hitting his head on a root after Icyhot tossed him on the ground again, they both just lay there in the grass, chests heaving, staring at the blue sky above them in silence for a minute or two.
“Class is too easy,” Icyhot says, winded as he lies a few feet away. “But you are– difficult.”
And there it is. Acknowledgement that he’s a worthy opponent, recognition that Katsuki was fucking right. That anger just now was respect, and Katsuki is the only one in this school who’s gotten to witness it:
Todoroki Shouto, trying his fucking best.
And… Icyhot talks fucking weird, but you know what?
Katsuki couldn’t have said it better himself.
“Fuckin’ A,” he replies. “It’s about time someone knocked you down a few pegs.” He stands up and brushes himself off. And because he’s a fucking man, he offers a hand to pull the lazy bastard up, too.
He doesn’t take it.
He stands up by himself, brushing leaves and shit out of his hair, off his shirt. There’s residual anger on his face, but it’s fading.
“If you’re going to continue to pick fights with me like this, we might as well just be sparring partners.”
And he’s right, of course. That would make perfect sense, since fighting anyone else is always a complete waste of time for both of them. But also– he was ready to kill Katsuki literally two minutes ago. And now he– wants to make this a regular thing.
Katsuki’s fought a lot of people. And no one– no one’s ever asked for more before.
He just scowls at him. “You’re fucking weird.”
Icyhot just blinks, and says fuck all. Katsuki rolls his eyes.
“Fine, yeah, whatever. Let’s get out of here before anyone finds us. I thought you had a train to catch back to your mansion anyways.”
The dumbass tilts his head to the side, like there’s not a single ounce of gray matter behind those creepy mismatched eyes. “I don’t live in a mansion.”
“Oh my god, shut up. I’m fucking leaving.” Katsuki picks up the idiot’s blazer off the ground, throws it at his face, and fucks off.
After that, it somehow becomes a – thing, if he had to pick a word for it.
They just… fight, sometimes. If they’re pissed at each other, they’ll fight. If they’re pissed at something else, they’ll fight. Hell, if they just feel like fighting, they’ll fucking go do it.
That’s the one singular thing that Katsuki appreciates about that hot and cold idiot – he gets it. Sometimes you need to throw fucking hands to solve your problems. That ooey-gooey feelings shit doesn’t always work, as much as people like Deku seem to think it does.
So every couple of days or so, Katsuki or Icyhot will send the other a text that just says “spar” or “today” – just one word. They don’t talk about anything else, so nothing more is needed than that. Hell, it’s embarrassing to even have the bastard’s number. But it’s sure as hell easier to type a few letters than it is to drag his giant ass across school grounds. And if you can be one thing, it should be efficient.
They use the same spot that they did the second time – that clearing with the grass and trees behind the gym. It’s weirdly perfect for it, since it’s so out of the way but still within campus walls. No one can see them. School ends for the day, they throw hands for 20 minutes, and then they go the fuck home.
They even have rules to this shit. Well– maybe not rules, but more of an unspoken understanding that they never even really had to hash out or discuss. They don’t use quirks, and they don’t injure each other enough to get teachers involved. If they’re too obvious about it, they won’t be able to do it anymore. Or at least, not on school grounds. And Katsuki sure as hell isn’t going to go visit Icyhot’s cushy mansion just to beat his ass.
But honestly – and Katsuki would never admit this – he’d have a hard time hurting the guy even if he really wanted to. Their skill levels are freakishly even, to the point where it’s hard to imagine either of them landing any sort of unblocked hit.
So yeah, it works well. Almost too well.
It’s weird as shit, Katsuki knows. Like, he doesn’t even like the guy. In fact, he hates Icyhot. But that’s what makes it work so damn well– it’s a great outlet on days when Katsuki’s ready to murder everyone. And plus, he could always use more sparring practice.
You don’t become the best hero in the world by sitting around on your ass, that’s for sure. And Katsuki is going to be the best.
By the fourth or fifth time, it starts to become the best part of Katsuki’s day – the adrenaline rush, the anticipation, the outlet for all the stresses and angers of the rest of his fucking life. There’s just something so satisfying– something that makes Katsuki feel fucking awesome when he sees that spark ignite in Icyhot’s eyes. He’s so damn boring and weird all day around everyone else. But one big shove is all it takes when Katsuki’s there– one push, and he loses his shit.
It’s a little bit weird, if he really thinks about it. Every damn time, even if Icyhot was the one to text, he never comes out swinging. Katsuki will punch and Icyhot will dodge, yada yada.
And then Katsuki will shove him, and then– then that’s what gets a rise out of him. It’s like a fucking “on” button. That’s when he starts actually putting in effort. That’s what gets the anger going.
And that’s what Katuski likes.
It’s good, for a while– a few weeks. And then it… wasn’t.
“Bakugou.”
Katsuki turns from where he was leaning on the wall, watching Kirishima and Sparky dig through their lockers for the homework they “swore” they had. Lunch just ended, so there’s still a few minutes before the bell rings for class. Deku’s been getting on his nerves all day, so he’ll take every damn second he can away from his stupid desk.
Half and half stands there behind him.
“Hey Todoroki!” Kirishima says, like the fuckin’ sunshine-y asshole he is. “How’s it goin’, man?”
“What do you want?” Katsuki growls. They don’t– talk. Or interact, really. And Katsuki would prefer to keep it that way.
“I can’t today,” he says.
“Hah?” Icyhot talks weird.
“Our meeting.”
Katsuki’s eyes widen. He needs two hands to count the number of times he’s told the fucking idiot not to talk about that shit around other people. It’s– it’s fucking weird, what they do. And the last thing he needs is anyone knowing that he’s spending his afternoons fighting in the fucking woods with the weirdest person in the class.
Kirishima and Sparky are only stupid when it comes to school, he guesses. Because immediately, the two of them have this fucking– confused but knowing smile on their stupid faces, and he knows he’ll never hear the fucking end of this.
He’s going to kill Icyhot.
He grabs the top of the bastard’s sleeve in his fist and drags him into the nearest bathroom, just a few meters down the hall from where Katsuki was standing.
The door slams, and he shoves Icyhot into the back of it.
“What the fuck was that?” he yells, prodding a finger in Icyhot’s chest. “How many times have I told you not to fucking say that shit in public?”
“I can’t today,” he fucking says again, like he’s a doll with only 3 phrases programmed into him. “I have to go home right after school.”
Katsuki just stares at him. He’s got robot face, for sure. But it’s– different. His eyes look duller and his hair is kind of fucked up, and he–
Icyhot looks… fucking tired. Like he didn’t sleep at all.
“I promise we can do it tomorrow, after practicals,” he says. Katsuki blinks for a few seconds, and backs off.
“Fine. Whatever. Next time, just text me you fucking freak.” He shoves him away from the door, yanks it open, and stomps back to class.
The day ends, and Katsuki feels fucking– tense. The damn nerd spent all morning and all afternoon muttering in his ear, and he was looking forward to sparring to let loose a little. Icyhot was the one who texted, anyways. Super early in the morning too, like the guy woke up ready to throw down.
But the lazy bastard canceled on him. Whatever. Icyhot’s got shit to do, Katsuki gets it. But now, the pent up rage buzzes along his hot palms as he walks out of the main building with red and orange-headed idiots in tow.
“Guys, I’m not kidding, I really think I failed that quiz!” Sparky whines. The breeze is cool but the spring sun is shining bright as the three of them walk along the brick path towards the entrance gates – perfect weather for sparring, god dammit.
“I don’t think I did good either. What about you, man?” Kirishima asks, clapping Katsuki on the shoulder.
He jerks his shoulder out from under his hand. “Maybe you should fucking pay attention in class. That’d help,” he bites, sarcastically. “It’s history, for fuck’s sake. Just read the damn book every once in a while–”
Just as they pass through the gates, he sees–
“K-kacchan, hey!” the nerd fucking squeals, with that annoying ass nervous look on his face. But Katsuki wasn’t looking at him.
Right behind him is Icyhot – leaning up against the wall, side-eyeing Katsuki with that dead fucking look in his eyes.
And now all four of these idiots are staring at Katsuki, but all he can see, all he can think is–
I can’t today, he had said earlier. But apparently he has all the time in the world to have a damn chat with fucking Deku.
He thought he was tense before, but now he might actually explode. He just laughs, bitter and short.
“Wow,” Katsuki says, ignoring everyone except the hot and cold bastard. “Thought you had somewhere to be?”
“I was just leaving,” he says, his voice low and even. “Goodbye, Midoriya.”
He turns to head off down the street and that’s just– that’s just fucking great. Katsuki’s palms crackle as he grits his teeth.
“Oh! See you, I guess–” the nerd responds, which proves that Icyhot was definitely not just leaving, the lying fucking bastard–
“Fuck this.” He turns and leaves in the other direction. Everyone always says he needs to learn self-control or whatever. But he has mounds of the stuff already– if he didn’t, he’d level this entire street right now.
“Whoa, hey! Wait up!” Kirishima yells, his footsteps sounding behind him.
“Don’t fucking follow me!” Katsuki yells, and the footsteps stop.
He can hear it– Kirishima’s voice, hushed, asking “what was that about?” while the other two say they don’t know.
Anger seethes through his veins and he has to wipe the sweat off of his palms. He is so damn pissed – what, Icyhot had time to listen to Deku fucking mutter about god knows what but he didn’t have time for Katsuki? For sparring? The one part of his day that isn’t boring and watered down for the sake of all these fucking extras?
He’s a liar. He’s a damn liar. Katsuki shouldn’t be so angry, he knows. But he can’t stand liars. Or Deku, for that matter.
Katsuki especially can’t stand Icyhot.
Tomorrow, he reminds himself. The idiot promised he’d spar tomorrow.
Katsuki will be damn sure to make that one count.