#dkbk

tl;dr: an ode to deku’s hands (aka bkg starts thinking about deku’s hands and can’t stop)

— Katsuki doesn’t mean to overhear them.

He’s on his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, hands stuffed into his loose sweats, bare feet silent as he shuffles to the fridge.

Usually he wouldn’t be up this late. It’s 9:30pm and the girls are all clustered in the living room for “girls night”; they don’t seem to have noticed him yet.

It’s not like he’s *trying* to listen to them, but they’re not exactly being quiet and snatches of conversation

float over to him as Katsuki fills his glass.

“... if I had to pick any boy in the class then... Todoroki,” Yaoyorozu says in a bashful voice.

The girls all titter and Katsuki rolls his eyes. He drinks his water and places his cup in the sink, ready to go back upstairs

before he gets nauseous listening to this.

“What about Deku?” Raccoon Eyes cuts in.

That makes Katsuki pause.

“I don’t know,” Yaoyorozu replies, “He’s cute... but maybe too cute?”

Katsuki resists the urge to snort. She’s not wrong.

Deku has the face of a fourteen year old girl with those big ass bambi eyes.

“Yeah, but have you seen his *hands*?”

His hands? What the fuck do Deku’s hands have to do with anything?

Katsuki decides to go back upstairs before he hears any more. He’ll never understand girls.

Except he can’t stop thinking about it. What’s so special about Deku’s hands?

The next day in class, Katsuki turns to hand Deku the pile of papers Present Mic passes down each row of desks. As Deku reaches for the papers, Katsuki can’t help but stare.

Okay, so maybe Deku’s hands are a little big. Probably bigger than Katsuki’s now that he’s comparing. And he’s got those scars, and the crooked fingers. His fingertips don’t taper at the end like Katsuki’s; instead they’re square, with short, bitten nails.

He’s got big knuckles too, probably from breaking his fingers so many times.

“Um, Kacchan?” Deku says, and Katsuki realizes they’re both holding opposite ends of the assignment stack. With the way the rest of the class is staring at them, he must’ve been zoning out for a while.

Katsuki’s cheeks turn red as he scowls. This is all Deku and his stupid hands’ fault!

“Just take them already, dumbass!” he snaps, letting go of the papers like he’s been burned. They both know Katsuki was the one not letting go,

but Deku doesn’t say anything as he passes the stack to the next person.

Katsuki turns back around in his chair, ignoring Deku’s stare burning into his back. He still doesn’t get what the big deal is. So Deku has big hands. So what?

Katsuki’s finds his thoughts drifting as Present Mic writes something in English on the board.

It’s like Deku hasn’t completely grown into them yet. Like those broad, calloused palms are an indicator of what’s to come. Girls probably love that shit.

They probably imagine what it’d be like to be held down by those hands, crooked fingers digging into soft, pampered skin.

Katsuki’s never been able to keep callouses on his own hands with how moisturized they are from his quirk, but Deku’s are different. Rough, probably. Rugged.