Fluid [Part 1]

Yes I started another new fic, shhhh.

Happy Trans Week!

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“Bakugou!”

Izuku looked up just in time to see both heads whip around, Kirishima already waving wildly. He felt his eyes widen and his face grow warm, long before Kirishima and the others had even begun to catch on. They hadn’t yet noticed all the little things – the strappy black shirt that left bits of pale shoulders and chest exposed; the black leather boots with heels; the thin line of black and the dark lashes framing ruby eyes; and most importantly, the sinfully short tartan skirt that exposed muscular thighs that just begged for Izuku to stare at them. He wished that time would just stop, or slow down, even just a tiny bit, just to give him a little bit longer in that moment of joy, before their worlds came crashing down around them.

“Oh,” Kaminari said, eyes raking up and down the beautiful body as he finally took it all in, finally began to understand. “Uhhh, not Bakugou?”

“Hey, boys!” Mitsuki said brightly, waving back despite the glare she got for it. “Long time no see!”

Izuku had a decision to make; it was maybe one of the hardest he’d ever had to make in his life, but he knew he had to make it immediately, before it quickly became too late. If he did nothing, he knew there were going to be thousands of questions that he would struggle to answer; if he did something, it could potentially be even worse – at least for him. But in the end, Izuku had always been a little too selfless for his own good; he’d always been a self-sacrificer, when it came to protecting people.

Steeling himself, he stepped forward, before the others could figure out how to make their feet or mouths work properly, and wrapped his arms around Mitsuki. She was the easier option, after all. It was more to buy himself a little time than for any other reason – not that it was that weird, she hugged him on most visits, but he didn’t usually initiate it.

“Hi, Auntie Mitsuki!” he said, brighter than he really felt – he was actually kind of proud of himself for it. "Long time no see!"

“It’s good to see you, Izuku!” she returned easily, giving him a warm smile when they parted again. "You're looking healthy!"

"Thank you! You as well!"

Then, he turned.

Praying he’d made the right choice, he shifted his hug to his next target. He slid one arm over a shoulder, painfully aware of the dark straps that were somehow so much more intriguing than just a bare arm was, and the other around a slim waist, curved in a way that seemed made to fit him in. He clamped down just for a moment, his hands barely meeting in the middle, praying he didn’t get blown up for it before he could let go again.

“Masami?” he whispered, while his lips were right beside her ear.

She didn’t speak, but her eyes widened just a touch when Izuku shifted to look, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Izuku felt it more than he saw it, her soft hair brushing Izuku’s face as she moved, and he released her just as quickly, as soon as he'd gotten his answer. When he took a step back, he knew his face was bright red, but he did his best to pretend he wasn’t aware of the stupid blush.

“It’s been so long, Micchan!” he said, even prouder of his acting skills than before – maybe he was better than he thought. “How are you?”

“M’fine,” she mumbled, eyes darting toward the classmates still standing behind him. “I, uh... Yeah. It’s been a while.”

She wouldn’t quite meet Izuku’s eyes, but honestly, Izuku wasn’t sure he wanted her to. He was already struggling with his blushing, it was all he could do to keep himself from trembling, not to mention everything else under the anxiety sun.

“I dragged her out for a mother-daughter day,” Mitsuki explained with a laugh. “I felt like doing some shopping, and it’s no fun to come alone. She usually caves when I offer to buy her shit.”

She showed off the handful of shopping bags she already held, inked with fancy brand names and logos that Izuku didn’t recognise, but knew had to be expensive just from the bags alone. Everywhere he shopped gave out plain, generic plastic bags; he didn’t think he’d ever gotten a pretty paper bag with a brand name on it.

“Sexist old hag,” Masami grumbled, though there was no bite to it. “You never drag your son shopping with you.”

Izuku’s gaze moved to the matching bags in Masami’s hands, and then, quickly, to the pale pink nails, freshly shaped and painted into perfect little ovals, devoid of the bite marks they’d once held. He’d never paid much attention to people’s hands before, but there was something... pretty, about them. Was that why so many girls were obsessed with manicures?

“That’s because he’s a brat when I try,” Mitsuki answered, her eyes shining with mischief. “You might grumble a bit, but you’re not nearly as cranky as him.”

“Whatever,” Masami huffed, her cheeks a little pink. “Buy me more shit.”

“You know I always do!”

Izuku took another step back, giving Masami a last awkward smile that he hoped came across apologetic enough for the unexplained hug and the closeness – they never hugged, let alone just in greeting. He felt like an idiot for it, even though he knew his friends had no idea.

“You look good,” he said, despite the way they both blushed over it. “Very, um... cool? Sorry, I don’t know the good words.”

“Very punk-rock, but in a low-key way,” Kaminari offered, finally finding his tongue – Izuku wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, especially when he shot Masami finger guns next. “I’m Kaminari Denki, but you can call me any time!”

Masami’s eye twitched, struggling to not do something stupid in a public space, and Izuku was kind of proud of her for the self-control.

“Sorry,” Sero stepped in. “From behind, with the hair and all, we thought you were Bakugou for a moment! Which, uh, well, I guess technically you are, but—”

“We’re friends with your brother,” Kirishima finished for him. “It’s nice to meet you! He’s told us all about you.”

Even Mitsuki snorted at that, Izuku having to cover his mouth to keep his own at bay, and Kirishima grinned sheepishly when Masami raised a flawless eyebrow at him.

“Okay, sorry, you know he doesn’t talk about his personal life and stuff, it just seemed like the polite thing to say.”

“It’s whatever,” Masami shrugged it off.

For a moment the group fell silent, and Izuku knew the awkward questions were coming. Maybe he could head them off, even just a little.

“This is Kirishima, that’s Sero, you met Kaminari, and the quiet one is Todoroki,” Izuku offered, throwing caution to the wind. He smiled sheepishly, then turned to look back at the little group. “Kacchan doesn’t like to introduce Micchan to his friends.”

“He probably knew Kaminari would hit on you,” Todoroki said flatly. “My condolences.”

Masami chuckled, and Todoroki cracked a smile – he was getting better about that, these days.

“So what school do you go to?” Kirishima asked.

“Yeah! You don’t want to be a hero?” Kaminari picked up for him. “Or you didn’t want to go to the same school as your brother? I could understand that, honestly.”

“There’s no way you’re still in middle school, right?” Sero asked warily. “You must be close to the same age.”

“I think we should let them go,” Izuku cut them off, before any more prying questions managed to get out. “I’m sure they have a whole fun day planned that we’re getting in the way of!”

“Fun,” Masami echoed flatly, making air quotes with her fingers. “Sure.”

Mitsuki slapped her on the arm lightly – much more playful than anything else – and Masami seemed unoffended by it. Izuku wasn’t sure she’d even noticed it.

“Quit complaining or I won’t be buying you that leather jacket you keep talking about,” Mitsuki threatened.

“I’ll buy it myself, hag!”

“For fifty thousand yen? I’d like to see that happen.” She linked her arm through Masami’s fondly, giving the group one last little smile as Masami immediately wrenched herself back out of the grip. “It was good to see you all again. Take care of my son, alright?”

“He doesn’t need it,” Todoroki answered.

“But we try our best!” Kirishima assured her.

They started to walk away, and Izuku felt his mouth open before he even knew what was going to come out, his voice weirdly choked-up and awkward, for words that he hadn’t even tried to make himself say.

“The skirt,” he blurted out, watching Masami tense up. “It looks really cute on you, I like it a lot.”

Masami didn’t respond, but Izuku saw the pink tint in her ears and neck, and he was a little relieved to know he wasn’t the only one blushing furiously. He was such an idiot sometimes. Why had he said that shit? Stupid mouth.

“Thanks,” Masami grumbled, still refusing to look back. “I’ll uh, talk to you later, or something.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it!”

They watched the pair go, Mitsuki pointing out a few stores excitedly before Masami’s reluctant nod meant they finally picked one to enter. As soon as they were out of sight, though, Izuku realised his mistake: he should have used that time to run.

“Bakugou has a sister?!” Kirishima demanded, looking oddly wounded by the knowledge.

“A hot sister,” Kaminari corrected him. “Are they twins or something? She looks our age.”

“Um, y-yeah, Micchan is the same age,” Izuku stuttered out.

“Dude, read the room,” Sero whispered, elbowing Kaminari sharply. “Midoriya clearly has dibs.”

“Not if I get there first!” Kaminari grinned, clapping Izuku on the back. “I’m kidding, you’re clearly smitten, I’ll back off.”

“It’s not like that!” Izuku whined, but with no readily available explanation for what it was like, he was kind of stuck. “You guys are so mean.”

“I think it’s super manly!” Kirishima assured him. “Your best friend’s sister? It’s straight out of a romance movie, like a forbidden love where one day he’ll come around and give you his blessing!”

“It’s definitely not like that,” Izuku insisted.

His protests fell on deaf ears. For the rest of their shopping trip – which he absolutely tried to hurry along as best as he could – he had to listen to their teasing. Even Todoroki joined in with the occasional quip that made Izuku blush and everyone else laugh.

Clearly he was never going to live this down.