Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Katsuki had spent the better part of the last forty fucking minutes standing in line outside of a dingy-ass club in a part of town that he never hoped to find himself in. The vibrations from the music inside were already giving him a headache and there were too many people in this damn line.

And it was cold.

And he wanted to go home.

He was stood second in line, impatiently tapping his foot as he pulled his coat tighter around himself. And when the guy in front of him reached back for his wallet, he hesitantly glanced at Katsuki’s face before pointedly averting his eyes.  

Katsuki scoffed.

Did this idiot really think the bouncer would believe he was twenty? The kid looked borderline prepubescent for fuck’s sake.

But before Katsuki could fall into the rabid cycle of cursing kids these days under his breath, the bouncer spared the barest hint of a glance at the guy’s ID when it was briefly flashed, and Katsuki instead found himself gritting his teeth as the kid was waved through the door without a single word spoken.

Because that was a crime and Katsuki was a Hero.

He barely managed to hold his tongue as the held out his own ID- and when the bouncer idly glanced at it, and then at Katsuki’s face, and then looked at the ID again with a brow raised in surprise, Katsuki had to count backwards to himself in his head to keep from absolutely losing his shit.

The bouncer looked between Katsuki’s face and his ID for the third time, oddly quiet as he started asking, “Are you that explo-?”

“No,” Katsuki interrupted sharply, stuffing the ID back into his wallet. “So can I fucking go in?”

The guy looked surprised for a second, like he didn’t know why Katsuki would ask him such a thing. But then he cleared his throat, shaking his head and making an absent-minded ‘knock yourself out’ gesture towards the door.

Katsuki grumbled to himself as he made his way inside.  

That guy had recognized him- Katsuki was sure of it. He just hoped the asshole wouldn’t go telling people that there was a Hero hanging out at their seedy, fucking minor-filled club.

He strode into the main area of the club where the bar was held, trying to blend into the crowd and not raise suspicion, but full-well knowing that he didn’t fucking belong there.

Katsuki was stood a few feet away from the packed bar, eyes idly sweeping over nameless faces and…

That bartender- the one playfully flirting with a group of older men while rattling around a cocktail shaker with practiced ease- that was definitely Shinso.

It had to be.

A hair color like that couldn’t be common at all, even though it was mostly hidden beneath a beanie- and while the black eyeliner was definitely doing something for him, the seemingly perpetual exhaustion dulling his eyes was exclusive only to Shinso himself (and maybe Aizawa).

But it could’ve been alcohol hazing the purple-hair’s features, or whatever fucking drugs you’d find at such a shitty dive bar. Maybe it was that loud fucking music, or the weed and cigarette smoke clouding the air.

Was it even legal to smoke inside anymore? Katsuki’s pretty sure it isn’t.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste- gay bars around here were usually… cleaner than this.

Regardless, whatever the fuck was going on, that guy was definitely Shinso.

Which somehow was the entire reason that Katsuki was here.

One of the assholes Shinso was humoring at the bar said something, shooting the purple-hair a sly wink as he did, and Shinso threw his head back and laughed.

Like, joyfully.

“Aren’t y’all a little too old to be ordering green tea shots?” Shinso asked with feigned judgement, grinning and flirting and-

Okay, maybe that wasn’t Shinso?

“We’ve gotta make you earn your tips somehow,” the man responded, sliding a few folded bills across the bar as Shinso divvied up the shots.

Shinso smirked, laying his palm flat over the money as he leaned towards the man and murmured, “And earn them I shall.”

Katsuki watched Shinso continue to work in something he could only describe as morbid curiosity. Because Shinso was just... bartending- bopping his head along to whatever pop song was blaring through the stereo while he took orders, prepared drinks, and ran cards like he’d been doing it for ages.

He looked weirdly at home there.

It was strange. The guy simultaneously seemed just like Shinso- with his smart fucking mouth and smug grin- and at the same time seemed nothing like him at all.

If Katsuki hadn’t known him for so long he probably wouldn’t even be able to tell that it was all a carefully-curated act.

But Katsuki had been standing in that spot a few steps away, blatantly staring at Shinso for multiple minutes now.

And he could admit that that was kind of suspicious.

One of the fuckers that Shinso was talking to finally noticed him, and the creep gave Katsuki one long, slow onceover before laying his hand over Shinso’s on the bar-top and gesturing to Katsuki with his raised glass.

Shinso’s eyes flickered over to him and the spark of recognition on his face was clear. Then he pursed his lips, almost imperceptibly- like Katsuki being there was inconvenient for him.

And that made Katsuki feel… kind of fucking bad, actually. He could only assume that Shinso was working undercover here, because why the fuck else would he be behind that bar, acting like that?

But that brief flash of irritation that was on Shinso’s face melted away in an instant, smoothing into a slow, lazy grin.

Shinso tapped one long finger against the bar, simultaneously drawing Katsuki’s eye and hushing the gaggle of men surrounding him.

He opened his mouth and- this will be the first thing Shinso has said to Katsuki in two years.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he called with a smile, tilting his head. “You ordering a drink or you just gonna stand there and eye-fuck me all night?”

Katsuki grit his teeth.

Of fucking course the asshole would say something like that.

And Katsuki understands that Shinso’s undercover- that all this is a front, a part he’s been tasked to play.

But still.

What the fuck?

Katsuki immediately scowled and the fucker just smirked back at him, making a show of adjusting the collar of his mesh fucking T-shirt like it’d achieve covering what was already on full display.

Shinso raised an expectant brow at him and Katsuki’s eye twitched. “A Manhattan,” he grunted, feeling the impulsive need to tack on, “If you can handle that.”

Shinso’s brows raised for only a moment, almost looking amused, and then he fucking giggled.

“Vermouth?” he chided incredulously with a click of his tongue. “And here I thought you looked like a man with taste.” He grabbed the rinsed shaker from the previous drinks and a bottle of top-shelf whiskey that Katsuki definitely hadn’t asked for. “How ‘bout an Old Fashioned?” he suggested, already preparing the drink before lowly mocking, “If you can handle that.”

Katsuki could feel the snarl rumbling through his chest before one of the younger men at the bar reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

Katsuki should blast this fucker’s arm off.

“Don’t take it personally,” the guy said with a chuckle, looking back to Shinso as he wryly added, “The brattiness is part of his charm.”

“I’m very popular,” Shinso said smugly, shooting a wink at Katsuki as he topped the glass with way more than a single shot of whiskey.

God, Shinso was robbing this place blind.

One of the other men uncoordinatedly tapped his glass against the bar-top, gesturing to Shinso’s seemingly genuine grin as he loudly asked, “And what do we have to do to get service like that?”

“Tip me like he will,” Shinso supplied easily, brushing the guy off as he glanced at Katsuki.

“And what if he stiffs you?” the guy insisted, fishing a bill from his pocket and airily waving it like that’d entice the bartender.

And for a brief moment, Shinso’s lip began to curl- probably from the absolute audacity of this asshole- but the look smoothed over a moment later as he pointedly ignored the man and winked at Katsuki again, lowly murmuring, “Oh, if I could only be so lucky.”

And Katsuki was going to murder every person here.

This was fucking unbearable.

Luckily the bar was already smoggy with smoke, because he’s pretty sure his hands were billowing the shit where he had them clenched at his sides.

He watched as Shinso fished two cherries from the garnish tray behind the bar, grinning at Katsuki as he dropped one into his mouth and plopped the other into the prepared drink, pushing it across the bar.

“I’ll give you two cherries,” Shinso said, locking eyes with Katsuki as he tugged the cherry from his lips with a pop and dropped it directly into Katsuki’s drink. “Since I crushed your nasty Vermouth dreams.”

Katsuki glared at the drink and then at Shinso standing there in front of him- looking at Katsuki all expectantly like that, like this was a fun little game for him. Then Katsuki glanced around at the other men at the bar- most watching the encounter with amusement.

And for fucking starters, that’s fucking gross.

Why the fuck did Shinso have to do that?

Katsuki scowled.

Because Shinso was playing a part, and now Katsuki had a part to play too. He couldn’t risk sabotaging whatever mission Shinso was on by losing his temper here and drawing attention to them. 

And Shinso definitely knew that.

So he’d done that entirely on fucking purpose.

The fucking bastard.

So with no small amount of effort, Katsuki tamped down on his rising temper and finished half the drink in two rushed swallows. He then grabbed the cherry that’d just been in Shinso’s mouth, held it up to his own, and coiled his tongue around it.

He pulled it from his mouth by the stem, making sure to make the same obnoxious popping sound that Shinso had, and reached across the bar to hold it out to Shinso’s dumbass, surprised fucking face with a brow raised in challenge.

For once in the asshole’s life, Shinso actually looked kind of speechless- and the satisfaction at having caused it set every one of Katsuki’s nerves on fire.

But then Shinso was grinning at him, muttering out an appreciative, “Oh, how fun,” under his breath as he snatched Katsuki’s outstretched arm by the wrist, leaned over the bar separating them, and plucked the cherry from the stem with his teeth, maintaining eye contact with Katsuki the entire time.

And Katsuki’s hand twitched in Shinso’s hold, and he dropped the cherry stem, and-

And one of the assholes at the bar fucking whistled and Katsuki thought he probably looked about one second away from burning the entire building to the fucking ground. Because Shinso took one look at him before quickly drawing a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his tattered jeans and waving it over his head, brow raised in a silent question to a barback collecting glasses at the other end of the bar.

He must’ve gotten whatever confirmation he was looking for, because Shinso grabbed Katsuki’s unfinished drink, set a clean coaster on top of it, and tucked it somewhere behind the bar. He turned back to Katsuki, tapping the pack against the bar-top.

“Blondie,” he prompted, nodding at Katsuki as he slipped a cigarette between his lips. Shinso smiled at him. “With me.”

Shinso wordlessly waved him behind the bar, led him through an employee door and down a hallway to the heavy backdoor of the building.

“So what?” Katsuki asked gruffly as they stepped outside and the door clanged shut behind them. “They’re supposed to think we’re making out out here or something?”

Shinso waved his hand lazily, finally dropping that fucking horny bartender act as he repeatedly flicked his lighter until the flame caught. “Making out, blow-job, someone getting bent over that dumpster,” he listed, thumbing at a nearby dumpster as the tip of the cigarette flared red. He took a long draw, and on the exhale said, “It’s all about the implication.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

Shinso raised a dubious brow at him, rolling his eyes as he said, “Let’s be real here, Bakugo. I’m a gay bartender, you’re a hot stranger who flirted back. There isn’t a soul alive that’d seriously believe I brought you out here for a nice chat.”

And that kind of… punched Katsuki in the fucking gut.

“That was a front then?” he asked roughly, trying to sound indifferent and not understanding why he was failing.

The brain fog had to be from all the smoke.

“Obviously,” Shinso answered distractedly, moving to ash his cigarette against the building’s grimy exterior as he glanced over at Katsuki. “Don’t tell me you thought I was serious.”

And no, Katsuki had known it was a cover- that Shinso was just acting.

He fucking knew that.

Katsuki tightly crossed his arms over his chest.

He knew- so why did he feel so fucking stupid?

But then Shinso grinned at him. “Trust me, if I was actually flirting, I can assure you it would’ve worked.”

Implying that it hadn’t worked.

Because it didn’t!

"Have you always smoked?" Katsuki muttered in lieu of an actual response, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he leaned back against the wall next to Shinso.

"Nah, just another fun, debilitating little way to blend in. Plus, I mean- I do enjoy it," Shinso murmured, idly rolling the cigarette between his fingers. "But it can fuck with my throat- my Quirk- if I do it too much, so I try not to at all."

And Katsuki didn’t know what to say to that, even though he’s the one who just brought it up. And Shinso didn’t say anything else, just continuing to fiddle with the lit cigarette in his hand.

Katsuki slid down the wall, suddenly exhausted as he irritably glanced up at Shinso standing next to him.

He was about to go fucking insane.

“Aren’t you fucking cold?” Katsuki barked, clad in a Winter coat and still freezing his ass off as he eyed Shinso’s mesh top and torn jeans with unbridled contempt.

“The contact-high is keeping me warm,” Shinso said with a cheeky grin- a fake one, the kind that he gives his fucking customers.

When Katsuki just glared at him in response, Shinso rolled his eyes. “Yes, Bakugo- I’m freezing. It’s literally November.” And all too quickly he just looked fucking tired. “But appearances must be kept, so.”

“For the mission?”

Shinso chuckled dryly. “You don’t have the security clearance for me to even dignify that with a real response.” He took a long drag, pointing the tip of his cigarette at Katsuki as he muttered, “And I know you know that.”

“So it’s…” Katsuki started before lowering his voice. “You can’t be seen talking to me?”

“Talking to you casually,” he corrected. “Flirting at the bar is fine- that’s literally my job. But if certain regulars saw me talking to a Top 20 Hero like I knew them?” he asked, raising a brow. “How would I explain that?”

“Then why bring me out here at all?”

“I was bored,” he answered easily, scrubbing his free hand up his face. “I’ve been here longer than expected and it’s starting to wear on me.”

And Katsuki could only try to understand what he meant.

Because Katsuki didn’t do undercover missions. He was, as his fucking PR lady put it, “too him”. He was too known, too recognizable, and way too himself.

But Shinso wasn’t.

At a glance, Shinso was way more fucking recognizable than Katsuki. The hair, the height, that smartass fucking mouth.

But Shinso wasn’t known.

Whatever missions he went on were never talked about on TV, always being labeled as “an organization” having taken down a crime syndicate or “a Hero” capturing a Villain during their night-patrol.

His agency had even enlisted another underground Pro to scrub the videos from their first Sports Festival so that Shinso wasn’t even in it.

All traces of Shinso’s involvement in heroics had disappeared the day he signed with his agency midway through their third year.

It was kind of… absolutely fucking insane.

“When’s the mission over?” Katsuki asked, kind of wishing he’d brought his drink with him so he’d have something to do with his hands.

Shinso glanced down at him for a moment, exhaling smoke. “No idea.”

And suddenly, Shinso jolted- and not in a regular, startled sort of way- but in the kind of way where his eyes narrowed and he quickly repositioned to crouch beside Katsuki, looking like he was about to pounce on something.

He looked like the Shinso that Katsuki remembered from school.

“What-“

“Shut the fuck up,” Shinso hushed, voice so much deeper than usual.

And had it not been for the horribly focused look in his eyes and the way his body was coiled to attack, Katsuki definitely would’ve gutted him for that one.

Shinso’s ear twitched and then he had a hand clenched in the front of Katsuki’s jacket before the blonde even thought to react.

Maybe it was that gross, strong-ass Old Fashioned Shinso had basically forced on him that was dulling his senses, but Katsuki didn’t see or hear anything that should’ve made Shinso react like that.

Shinso hauled him to his feet and backpedaled until Katsuki’s body was crowding his against the wall, lowly saying, “Pretty sure the employee door just closed- I need you to play along.” Then he levelled Katsuki with a small, guilty smile as he leaned in and murmured a soft, “Sorry about this,” against Katsuki’s lips.

And it was almost… normal- at first, anyways. Shinso had one hand stuffed up the back of Katsuki’s shirt and the other clenched in his hair (still holding that fucking cigarette) - but he was barely moving, keeping his head tilted towards the door as he distractedly skimmed his lips over Katsuki’s own.

It’s all about the implication.

And Shinso’s still paying full attention to the door and the footsteps approaching from the other side, so when he idly dragged his tongue over Katsuki’s lower lip, Katsuki didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to be doing.

Katsuki’s pretty sure it’s the click of the door opening that had Shinso suddenly moaning into Katsuki's mouth like a fucking whore, hitching his thigh over Katsuki’s hip and grinding against him.

Katsuki was going to scream.

“Well, isn’t this surprising,” the barback from before mused teasingly, poking his head out the door.

And Shinso detached himself from Katsuki's face, panting with a blissed-out haze clouding his eyes.

“A real shocker, right?” Shinso asked breathlessly, lolling his head back against the wall to give the barback a shit-eating grin as he idly tousled Katsuki’s hair- a gesture that was probably meant to be calming, but really just made Katsuki want to bite his fingers off.

“Boss-man says you gotta come back inside,” the barback said, thumbing over his shoulder.

The guy nodded his head to Katsuki in what seemed like a silent apology and Katsuki didn’t know where he was supposed to be looking, or doing with his hands, or doing with the fucking boner straining his jeans what the fuck-

“But my smoke breaaak,” Shinso whined, mushing his face against Katsuki’s neck as he clung to the blonde like a needy child.

“Cute,” the guy said with a roll of his eyes, letting the door start easing shut behind him as he called over his shoulder, “You’ve got five minutes!”

A beat of tense silence passed as the door rattled shut and the sound of retreating footsteps slowly quieted.

And that fucking cigarette is still lit, burning harsh smoke right next to Katsuki’s face. And Shinso’s forehead is still resting against Katsuki’s neck as the purple-hair took a few deep, measured breaths.

“Wow,“ Shinso said unsteadily. “That was not my best work.”

He tilted his head back until it rested against the wall of the building, slowly unwrapping himself from Katsuki.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I should’ve heard the footsteps sooner- that was my fault.”

And granted, Katsuki definitely could’ve been paying closer attention. But realistically, Shinso was the one who was on the clock right now.

Shinso had actually kind of fucked up.

Because of all the people throwing money at him at this bar, he had wanted to risk talking to Katsuki.

“Whatever,” Katsuki grumbled, tightly crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Shinso take another puff of his cigarette. “Do you always fucking act like that?”

Shinso laughed a little. “Like the worst person on earth, you mean?” He shot Katsuki a small grin as he fucking finally crouched down to snuff that goddamn cigarette against the wet pavement at his feet.

“Why don’t you stick around and find out?” Shinso suggested, falling back into his annoying bartender persona as he shot an exaggerated wink at Katsuki, stood, and flicked the cigarette butt into the nearby dumpster.

Katsuki took one of the few empty seats still remaining at the bar and the asshole who’d patted him on the shoulder earlier immediately sat on the stool next to him, throwing a drink back.

The guy elbowed Katsuki’s arm to get his attention and Katsuki’s hands sparked beneath the bar.

“You lucky bastard!” the guy whisper-shouted to him excitedly, elbowing Katsuki again. “How was he?”

Katsuki snarled, irritated as he tapped his hand against the bar-top to get Shinso’s attention. When the purple-hair looked over, Katsuki gave him a “What the fuck am I supposed to be doing?” gesture. Shinso just glanced between Katsuki and the man, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, amused grin as he mouthed, “Go beyond!” and pumped his fist a single time before sliding Katsuki his unfinished drink.

Katsuki took the drink with a scowl, trying to block out the drunk asshole next to him.  

“Well?” the guy insisted. “C’mon man, how was he?”

Katsuki glanced at Shinso again, who was taking a nearby patron’s order, but still obviously listening to their conversation. “He was…” Katsuki trailed off, eyeing Shinso’s barely-suppressed grin with irritation. He cleared his throat roughly. “He was great.”

Shinso’s brows shot up as he quickly turned away, acting like he hadn’t just heard Katsuki say that. And that kind of pissed Katsuki off a little bit. He doesn’t think he’s ever called anyone but All Might great in his life, and Shinso had barely reacted.

It was almost insulting.

“Dammit. I’m so jealous,” the guy next to him complained as he bonelessly dropped his head until his forehead smacked against the bar, grumbling, “He’s only taken two guys out back before- what kind of star were you born under?”

And Katsuki’s jaw clenched.

A beat of silence passed and a few things all happened at once- Shinso visibly winced at the man’s words and Katsuki angrily shoved the drunk asshole away from him, downed the rest of his drink, and slid the empty glass back towards Shinso, aggressively signaling for another.

Shinso served whatever drink he’d been preparing before making his way back over to Katsuki. He eyed the guy next to Katsuki, who seemed to have fallen asleep in the span of about ten seconds.

Or, Katsuki assumed the guy was asleep. He’s fairly sure he didn’t hit him that hard.

“Another of those?” Shinso asked quietly as he tapped at the rim of Katsuki’s glass. “You know, I can make a Manhattan if you really want one.”

And Katsuki was almost surprised at how normally Shinso was talking to him now. But he guesses that since they just went and did whatever they did outside, it was less suspicious for Katsuki to be given special treatment.

He wondered if that’s why Shinso had taken him outside to begin with. Maybe Shinso really was that bored here, and maybe he wanted to talk to someone who actually knew him.

So maybe he wanted Katsuki to stay.

“No,” Katsuki answered gruffly, nudging the glass closer to Shinso. “The Old Fashioned’s fine.”

Then he eyed the guy passed out next to him, and a few of the other men trying to get Shinso’s attention at the bar. He grit his teeth before muttering out a rough, “Let me buy you a drink.”

Shinso just tilted his head at him for a moment, looking a little surprised, but then he grinned. “Yeah?” he asked, sounding pleased. “Anything specific?”

Katsuki groaned. “Whatever the fuck you drink, asshole.”

And Shinso laughed a little bit at that, smirking at Katsuki as he poured himself a shot of the whiskey he’d used in Katsuki’s drink before.

Katsuki read the label more carefully, figuring that Shinso must like the brand.

Then he cursed under his breath, mentally berating himself for even fucking bothering.

There’s no way in hell he was already this drunk.

Katsuki watched the lines in Shinso's neck tense and shift when he tilted his head back to take the shot. And Katsuki’s vision almost blurred as Shinso swallowed.

Shinso tipped his empty glass to Katsuki as he winked and said, “Thanks for the drink, blondie,” before he started on Katsuki’s drink.  

And Katsuki just ducked his head, propping his elbows on the bar and curling his arms over his head in an attempt to hide his flushed face.

It was nearing 2 am, and Katsuki was sat at the long-deserted bar, nursing his fifth Old Fashioned- which he didn’t even fucking like, by the way- as he glared at Shinso, stood behind the bar amicably chatting with that young barback as they restocked the bar caddies.

Katsuki didn’t know why the actual fuck he was still here.

Actually, he doesn’t even have a believable reason for showing up here to begin with. Saying, “Pikachu said he saw you there” isn’t really a fucking explanation.

Fuck, Katsuki had drank too much. He could fucking tell because the sound of that barback’s voice- clearly just having the greatest fucking time talking to Shinso- was grating on Katsuki’s nerves like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

And he wasn’t staring at Shinso’s ass every time the bastard turned around, and his eyes weren’t catching on all the old scars he could see peeking through the mesh of Shinso’s stupid fucking shirt.

That loser barback must’ve caught him not staring because the asshole nudged his hip against Shinso’s, nodding at Katsuki as he murmured something with a teasing grin and they both laughed.

Katsuki grit his teeth, watching as the barback lifted a stack of empty dish trays and walked through the door that Shinso held open for him.  

He waited until the second the double-doors swung shut behind the barback before he turned to Shinso.

It was fucking bothering him.

All of this was bothering him.

“The fuck’re these two guys I keep hearing so much about?” he barked, eyes pointedly trained on the glass clenched between his hands.

Shinso rolled his eyes. “Hearing so much about, he says, like he heard it more than a single time.”

And maybe it was the look on Katsuki’s face when he whipped his head up to glare at Shinso directly, because instead of continuing to be an absolute dick, the purple-hair just sighed.

Shinso’s eyes swept the area surrounding them, and when he found it empty he levelled Katsuki with a dull look as he quietly said, “Aizawa and, weirdly enough, fucking Kami.”

“What?” Katsuki blurted in genuine appall before lowering his voice. “Isn’t Aizawa like your dad?” 

Shinso squinted at him, gingerly setting clean glasses beneath the bar. “Not quite,” he said. And then, eyeing Katsuki’s clenched fists, he murmured out an inquisitive, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m not the one who-“ he started, drunkenly stumbling over his words for a moment before aggressively gesturing towards the employee door they’d gone out of earlier. He quieted his voice conspiratorially. “The one taking my not-quite-dad out back?”

“Wait, you don’t think-“ Shinso cut himself off, huffing as he rolled his eyes. “No, Bakugo. I’m not fucking Aizawa.”

“And Pikachu?”

Shinso sighed heavily. “Not him either.” He glanced around again, idly repositioning the glasses to make himself look busy. “Aizawa was here to verify one of my tips. And Kami just- he just wandered in,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You guys should really keep a closer eye on him, I played hell trying to keep these old fucks out of his pants without blowing my cover.”

“He comes to places like this for the attention,” Katsuki grumbled into his hand, feeling weirdly guilty.

“Trust me when I say this- he doesn’t want it from them.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“That they’re gross,” Shinso supplied easily, shrugging as he set down the final glass. And when he eyed Katsuki’s scowl, the corner of his mouth twitched into a little grin. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me.”

“Of fuckin’ course I’m not, idiot!”

“Mhm,” Shinso hummed, amused. “Because I’m a big boy that can take care of himself, right?”

“I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

“Then why are you still here?” Shinso asked airily.

The question of the fucking day.

Why the fuck was Katsuki still there? He’d had a rare, two-day weekend to kill- and yeah, he had been curious when Kaminari had started a fucking emergency call to the squad Discord at 3 am a few weeks back, drunkenly whining about mesh and eyeliner and how Shinso just took such good care of his fucking customers.

Katsuki dropped his head into his hands.

He was one of those customers.

He felt gross.

“Hey,” Shinso said, startling him out of what was quickly becoming an internal crisis. Katsuki cracked his eyes open to see a receipt and pen being slid between his elbows on the bar-top. “Need your signature, doll.”

“Don’t call me that!” he bit out furiously, shoving at Shinso’s hand as he took hold of the pen and glared at the receipt. “When did I even give you my fuckin’ card?”

“Like two hours ago,” Shinso said, placing a glass of water in front of him and dumping the rest of his drink in the sink. “I wasn’t going to charge you at all, but you were very insistent about starting a tab.”

Katsuki glared at the receipt harder. “That why you only charged me for two drinks? And neither of ‘em doubles?”

And Shinso just chuckled softly, a guilty grin quirking his lips. “A bit more than a double.”

Five drinks, all ‘more than doubles’- whatever the fuck kind of quantity that was.

Jesus, no fucking wonder Katsuki was so out of it right now.

“Gonna take more than that to kill me,” he grumbled, hastily filling out the receipt and shoving it back towards Shinso.

“Not really what I was going for, but-“ Shinso paused, eyeing the tip line critically before sliding his gaze back to Katsuki. “Don’t fucking do that,” he grumbled under his breath, sliding the receipt and pen back to him. “I’m not taking this.”

“Do what?” he snapped. “More believable for me to tip on the…” He waved his hand aggressively. “The fuckin’ services, right?”

Shinso opened his stupid mouth again, clearly about to argue, and Katsuki furiously shushed him by pounding his fist against the bar-top. “Jesus, just say fucking thank you like a normal person!” But Shinso just continued staring at him and Katsuki’s about to fucking lose it. ”So you’ll take everyone’s money but mine?” he gritted through clenched teeth.

And why was that thought so fucking offensive to him?

“Well they’re old and gross and rich,” Shinso said, squinting at him. “Charming them out of their life-savings brings me deep satisfaction, Bakugo.”

And that- fuck, that made Katsuki start to laugh.

He’s drunk- fuck, he’s too drunk. And Shinso is so fucking annoying, looking at Katsuki all startled like that.

God, Katsuki hates him.

Shinso huffed a small laugh, nudging the glass of water closer to him. “Go sit out on the curb and drink your water- the cold will help.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment before adding, “I’ll be out in like, fifteen.”

The cold did help, but Katsuki thinks the two additional glasses of water he’d had to shamefully reenter the bar to ask Shinso for helped more.

Shinso had come outside a few minutes before, bristling in the cold, to take his empty glass and replace it with a plastic water bottle, saying he’d be finished soon.

And Shinso walked out of the club entrance minutes later, waving over his shoulder to someone that Katsuki couldn’t see and-

Goddammit. Fucking finally this asshole decided to put on a fucking coat.

Shinso stuffed a hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out the crumpled black beanie he’d had on most of the night. He held it out to Katsuki, who just stared at it like the gesture alone would set it aflame in Shinso’s hand.

“The fuck do you want me to do with that?”

“What the fuck do you think? Put it on,” he instructed, shoving the beanie against Katsuki’s chest. And when Katsuki just raised an unimpressed brow at him, Shinso sighed heavily before elaborating. “You’re too recognizable- at least cover your hair.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, irritated as he took the beanie. “Why does it matter? It’s like, 2 am for fuck’s sake.” He gestured to the deserted street around them. “No one’s around to even see us.”

Shinso hummed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and starting to walk. “Twenty-four hour diners will always have people.”

“What?”

“God,” Shinso sighed exhaustedly. “Listen, you’re drunk and I’m running on nothing but coffee and nicotine.” He clapped his hands together. “We need carbs, Kacchan.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, glaring at the beanie clenched in his hands before tugging it on with a click of his tongue.

Shinso grinned at him a little bit, looking far too pleased with himself as he eyed the beanie. He tugged on the blonde’s sleeve, brow raised in question, and Katsuki barely relented when Shinso insisted on leading him down the sidewalk.

And why exactly was Katsuki following Shinso around like a pathetic, lost fucking puppy? He didn’t fucking know.

But the shitty diner was at least warm when they walked through the doors- and Katsuki could admit that the smell of coffee and hum of idle chatter made him breathe a little easier.

The waitress brought them both coffees before she’d even introduced herself, nodding to Shinso like he came in here all the time before letting them know she’d be back to take their orders soon.

“So,” Shinso started, warming his hands around his mug. “Why did you show up tonight?”

A question that’ll plague Katsuki for as long as he fucking lived.

Katsuki scratched at his neck, face half-hidden by his mug as he muttered, “Pikachu said he saw you there. I was… curious.”

“Mhm,” Shinso hummed, nodding as he sipped his coffee. “And why did you stay?”

Katsuki didn’t fucking know!

“What’s with all the questions?” he bit out, kicking Shinso beneath the table and making him jump.

“What’s with all the deflections?” Shinso shot back, kicking Katsuki in return. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Katsuki cursed as he threw his hands up. “It’s like I have to answer riddles three every fucking time I talk to you!”

But then Shinso was grinning at him, snickering in a surprisingly boyish way. “Yeah? Riddles three?” he asked. “What am I- a fucking troll?”

And all Katsuki did was glance up at Shinso’s hair for a split second and Shinso’s face crumpled in embarrassment.

Shinso tsked, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Katsuki laughed, unable to keep himself from grinning as he said, “That’s my charm.”

Shinso glanced up at him in surprise and his face immediately split into a smile.

And then he started laughing- like real, genuine laughter.

And Katsuki continued openly staring at him, tongue-tied and clumsy in his mouth.

The waitress came back not long after that- which was a small blessing because Katsuki was definitely still drunk, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the way Shinso’s long fingers were curling around his mug, or the way Shinso’s low, amused laughter was resonating as a rumble through Katsuki’s chest.

God, he was fucked.

The bells atop the door softly chimed behind them as they made their way back outside. And they’d only taken a few hesitant steps down the sidewalk when Shinso nudged Katsuki with his elbow.

“So,” he said, taking a deep breath as if steadying himself. He glanced over at Katsuki. “Am I getting you an Uber or are you coming home with me?”

And Katsuki was almost embarrassed at the eager step he instinctively took towards Shinso in response. “You’re serious?”

Shinso’s lips uncoiled into a slow, lazy smirk, giving Katsuki a heated onceover as he asked, “You think I would’ve put in the effort to sober you up otherwise?”

But when they got to the door of Shinso’s apartment, Katsuki was certain that they were both entirely too sober for this.

Because they didn’t stumble through the door, grabbing at each other like they were starving for it. No, Shinso unlocked his door and Katsuki mimicked him as they took off their shoes in absolute, fucking deafening silence.

Katsuki felt like his hands might start sparking if he didn’t say something.

“Just so you know,” he grumbled as he stood, trying to keep himself busy by shoving his boots to the side with his foot. “I’m not a bottom.”

Shinso looked startled for only a moment. “Well, that’s good,” he mused, peering up at Katsuki through the filter of his lashes as his face broke out into a savage grin. “Because I am.”

And that’s really all it took.

They clumsily stripped as they made their way into Shinso’s bedroom. And soon they were both just standing there, looking at each other, clad in only boxers- with Shinso still wearing fucking socks.

“Take those off,” Katsuki grunted, weirdly irritated as he shoved Shinso back onto the bed and ran his hands up and down the purple-hair’s thighs.  

The fucker actually scoffed. “Um, no. Not unless you want me complaining that my feet are cold every thirty seconds.”

“God,” Katsuki spat, pinning Shinso’s wrists above his head and glaring at him. “You’re so fucking unattractive that it’s actually sad.”

Shinso laughed. “That’s real mean of you, Bakugo,” he said, throwing one of his thighs over Katsuki’s hip to drag him in closer.

And without even thinking about it- without being able to reason why he did it- Katsuki clicked his tongue in irritation and growled, "Call me Katsuki."

Shinso tensed and Katsuki...

He has no idea why he just fucking said that. He wasn't that guy- he didn't care enough about the people he slept with to even tell them his name for fuck's sake.

"Mmm," Shinso hummed, running long fingers back through Katsuki's bangs. He smiled a little, murmuring, "Katsuki it is then.”

Then he pulled Katsuki forwards with an arm draped around the blonde’s neck, tapping their foreheads together. “And since we’ve gotten so close all of a sudden…” he joked, trailing off suggestively.

Katsuki blushed, intending to turn away but ultimately just nuzzling his cheek against Shinso's. "Yeah, yeah. ‘Hitoshi’, I got it."

"It sounds so pretty when you say it," he teased.

"Sounds fuckin' pretty when anyone says it," Katsuki grumbled. And at Shinso's immensely surprised face, Katsuki shoved him in the chest, blushing hard as he shouted, "Shut the fuck up!"

Shinso laughed. "I didn't even say anything!"

"Jesus, you're so annoying!" he shouted, shoving Shinso’s face to the side. "I knew I should've fucking gagged you."

Shinso raised a delighted brow at that and Katsuki kind of wanted to fucking murder him.

But instead of committing a capital crime, he just took a few deep breaths, eyeing Shinso splayed out beneath him, his pale skin on full display. And Katsuki couldn’t help his eyes catching as he dragged his gaze down the purple-hair’s body.

"You're really beat up," Katsuki commented blankly. He didn't really know why he was so surprised, given their line of work and all. But the way the littering of scars stood out starkly on Shinso's pale skin was probably what made him feel the need to point it out. It was just impossible to ignore.

Katsuki lightly ran his thumb over a gnarled, round mark just above Shinso's hip, still red from healing.

"That’s a gunshot wound," Shinso said, glancing up at him. "If you were curious."

"And this?" he asked, tracing over what looked like a blackened spidering of veins creeping down the purple-hair's side.

"Fucked up Trigger prototype," Shinso answered, sighing as he smoothed a palm up Katsuki's chest. "I got dosed by some prick who was high on the stuff."

Katsuki’s eyes swept back over Shinso, and a healed, mottled scar on his ribs had Katsuki stilling now that he was really looking at it.

It looked an awful lot like the way the few remaining Meta Liberation groups would brand traitors, cops, and Heroes.

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, lightly smoothing his finger over the mark. “What the fuck is this?”

"Listen,” Shinso said, grabbing Katsuki’s wandering hand and pulling it up to his face. “The battle-wound stories are riveting foreplay and all, but...?” he trailed off, raising a brow as he pressed a kiss to Katsuki’s palm.

And Katsuki felt like now was as good a time as any to finally kiss him.

Shinso pulled a hair’s-breadth away, amusedly murmuring, “That’s better.”

Katsuki grabbed Shinso by the back of the neck and dragged him in for another kiss, coiling his tongue around Shinso's and shuddering when the purple-hair immediately groaned into his mouth, pitching his hips up.

He pulled away and Katsuki’s eyes lingered on Shinso's flushed face, heatedly traveling down his scarred body and settling on the sticky, dark spot on the front of his boxers.

He reached out, teasing his thumb over the wet spot and loving how slick the glide of fabric felt when rubbed over the drooling tip of Shinso's cock.

Katsuki propped himself over Shinso, leaning in to sink his teeth into the purple-hair's neck before growling, "Get on your knees," with a stinging smack to Shinso's bare thigh.

Shinso startled, sucking in a sharp breath, but still uncoordinatedly maneuvered onto his knees and forearms, just as he was told to.

Katsuki grabbed the waistline of Shinso’s boxers, cursing under his breath as he pulled them off of the purple-hair before shedding his own and blindly tossing them both to the side.

He settled between Shinso’s legs, wrapping his arms around the purple-hair’s thighs to tug him closer to the bed.

"O-oh, you don't have to-" Shinso started, but his words cut off into a throaty groan when Katsuki languidly dragged his tongue over Shinso's hole and slowly began working it inside.

Shinso bit out a strained, "Fuck", and Katsuki’s gut clenched when he pulled away to see Shinso's cock already dripping onto the sheets. 

God, he was fucking easy too?

Katsuki was going to go fucking mad.

Katsuki hummed appreciatively, grabbing the bottle of lube from where Shinso had tossed it onto the bed earlier. He slicked the tip of his thumb and Shinso sucked in a sharp breath when Katsuki started rubbing against him, already softly loosened by Katsuki's tongue.

He dribbled a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and quickly eased one into Shinso, and then a second, and then a third as the purple-hair cursed, squirming beneath him.

And Katsuki fucking knows that he should be going slower, but Shinso keeps making these overwhelmed little noises that are absolutely setting Katsuki's blood on fucking fire.

Shinso whined again and Katsuki cursed. He took those three lubed fingers, pulled them from Shinso slowly, and then roughly stuffed them back inside of him, shuddering at the obscene squelching sound it made. And Shinso dropped his face into the pillows, arms shaking to support himself as he opened his mouth and moaned, drool starting to slick his chin.

“Jesus, you really do love being fucked, don’t you?” Katsuki grit out as he worked Shinso open.

Shinso let out a strained laugh, struggling to keep himself propped on his elbows. “Bold of you to say that when you haven’t fucked me yet.”

Katsuki curled over Shinso, shoving his face into the pillows as he ground his cock against Shinso’s slick hole. Shinso’s thighs trembled and he rushed out a rough, “Katsuki, please.”

The blonde stilled for a moment, running a finger down the arch of Shinso’s spine as he murmured, “You sure?”

Shinso laughed again, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. He reached a hand back to dig his fingers into Katsuki’s thigh, huffing and breathless with impatience as he said, “Yes, and I’m even saying please, so.”

Katsuki took a shaky breath as he slowly eased his cock into Shinso, watching fervently as his hole strained to accept him. Shinso had his hands tightly gripped in the back of his hair, and when Katsuki rocked inside of him, his whole body tensed and he groaned out an overwhelmed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he slammed his clenched fist against the mattress.

He was a little more than halfway inside when Shinso bit out a curse and suddenly ground back against him, gripping him tight as he took all of Katsuki. And Katsuki’s hands flew to Shinso’s hips, strong grip rooting the purple-hair in place as he rushed out, “Are you okay?”

“Katsuki,” Shinso grit out impatiently, throwing an irritated look at him over his shoulder.

“I’m trying not to fucking hurt you!” Katsuki snapped, weirdly embarrassed as he dug his fingertips into Shinso’s hips.  

Shinso rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to keep asking if I’m-“

“Then how will I fucking know?” he asked sharply before shaking his head. “Just- I have to ask, okay? I have to.”

Shinso shuddered, clenching around Katsuki’s cock. “Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “Fine, just-” He ground back against Katsuki again. “Just- c’mon. Please.”

And now Katsuki kind of wanted to leave because he feels like he just did something wrong and it’s just-

“Gotta say,” Shinso commented shakily, tsking as he threw an unimpressed look at Katsuki over his shoulder. “I expected you to be more fun than this.”  

Katsuki snarled, grabbing a fistful of Shinso’s hair and wrenching his head back as he growled, “What the fuck does that mean?”

And the fucker scoffed, rolling his eyes and drawling, “Why did I even bother inviting you over if this is the best you can do?”

Katsuki snagged two of his fingers in the corner of Shinso's mouth, roughly tugging as Shinso yelped in surprise.

“Is this what you wanted?” Katsuki asked, draping himself over Shinso as he slowly rocked into him. And Shinso tried to say something, but Katsuki just dug his fingertips into the back of his tongue, cutting the purple-hair’s words off into a groan.

Katsuki shuddered. “Messy, messy, so fucking messy,” he growled, stuffing those two fingers deeper down Shinso's throat as he fucked him slowly.

The purple-hair gagged, tears springing to his eyes as he released a pathetic, pitchy moan, his throat spasming around Katsuki's fingers as he drooled down the blonde’s hand.

God, Katsuki was about to fucking lose it.

He tugged his fingers from Shinso’s mouth to clamp them high on his neck, yanking Shinso back to settle him onto Katsuki’s lap.

And Shinso’s leaning back against him, his thighs trembling on either side of Katsuki’s as his chest heaved.

Katsuki kept his hand curled firmly around Shinso’s throat, holding Shinso’s back flush to his chest as he ground up into him. He slicked his thumb over the drooling tip of Shinso’s cock again and Shinso made a wounded noise that sounded frighteningly close to a sob.

Katsuki stilled, moving to slide his hand up Shinso’s face and-

Jesus- was he fucking crying?

That was- fuck, it was hot, but…

Katsuki took a deep, stuttering breath, smoothing his hand down Shinso’s chest. He cleared his throat roughly, brushing his nose against Shinso’s neck as he murmured a throaty, “You doing okay?” into Shinso’s ear.

And Shinso shuddered. He let out a breathless, “Yeah. Yeah, but,” before he lolled his head back against Katsuki’s shoulder, reaching a hand to clench it into the blonde’s hair. He looked at Katsuki dazedly, a shaky smile on his face as he breathed, “It’s better like this.”

And that… did something horrible to Katsuki’s chest.

It’s not like Shinso’s wrong- it was better like this. Because now that he had Shinso’s wrecked face right in his line of sight, Katsuki was almost lightheaded at how good he suddenly looked. His face, that wild hair, his eyes- fuck!

And that eyeliner- that fucking eyeliner (maybe Kaminari had a point). Shinso’s eyes had been blearing with tears so often that the liner was ruddy and smeared. There were tear-tracks on his face and Katsuki was going to go insane.

He lightly brushed his nose against Shinso’s in a gesture he’d intended to be comforting and Shinso looked up at him again, his lips quirking into this awkward little smile that kind of made Katsuki want to kiss him.

But Shinso grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him before Katsuki even got the chance to really consider it. And the kiss was needier now- hot and wet and broken by choked moans and the sound of their thighs slapping together.

"That good?" Katsuki murmured. And it was when Shinso immediately clenched around him that made Katsuki ground out a fierce, “Oh, is that what it is?”

Katsuki could definitely fucking work with this.

Too easy.

"Yeah?" Katsuki purred directly in Shinso’s ear, giving him a rough thrust. "You gonna be good for me?"

Shinso's lashes fluttered, moaning as his eyes rolled back into his head, heady and completely glazed over.

Katsuki grinned- he doesn’t think he’s ever had so much fun.

He hummed, lazily grinding into Shinso. Katsuki tucked a lock of sweaty hair behind Shinso’s ear. "Such a good boy."

And Shinso whimpered pitifully, his knees immediately buckling as he sank bonelessly onto Katsuki’s throbbing cock. "Fuck," he gasped, rutting his hips back as he stuttered, "Katsuki, I- more- please."

Katsuki quickly maneuvered Shinso back onto his knees, and the purple-hair made a desperate noise in refusal when Katsuki pulled out of him. But Katsuki just grabbed him by his thighs and roughly flipped Shinso onto his back.

He kneeled between Shinso’s spread thighs, lifting one of the purple-hair’s legs to prop it against his own shoulder. He eased his cock back inside and reveled in how Shinso immediately clenched around him.

Katsuki watched in fascination as Shinso stretched shiny and taught around the thick base of his cock when he fully sank into him. And Katsuki shuddered as he fucked him, loving the way Shinso looked when he was pried open like that.

"Fuck," Shinso groaned. "I- Katsuki-” he stuttered before cutting off into a low moan. His lashes fluttered as he rushed out, "You're gonna make me cum. Katsuki, I-“

“Be a good boy,” Katsuki growled roughly as he curled himself over Shinso’s body, pinning the purple-hair’s knees to his chest as he ground into him. "And cum for me, Hitoshi.”

Shinso’s cock immediately spurted a thick load of cum messily between their stomachs. And Katsuki was more than happy to fuck him through it because-

Well, that was an awfully nice fucking face he was making.

His thrusts slowed when Shinso started gasping from oversensitivity. But as Katsuki made to lean away, Shinso threw an arm around his neck, hitching a trembling thigh over Katsuki’s hip as he whispered shakily into Katsuki’s ear, “C’mon, Kacchan- I thought you’d be better than this.”

“You bratty piece of shit,” Katsuki growled, roughly shoving Shinso’s face to the side before following up with a low, “You sure?”

Shinso hummed softly, locking his ankles behind Katsuki’s back and guiding them into a roll to swap their positions. He tugged Katsuki up to sit, draping his arms around the blonde’s neck as he settled back onto Katsuki with a broken groan.

And Katsuki’s cock was throbbing and his hands were shaking with the need to grab Shinso by the hips and force him-

Jesus fucking Christ. If Shinso didn’t start to move like, right fucking now-

“You like me messy, don’t you?” Shinso whispered into his ear as he slowly ground himself down on Katsuki’s cock. “You wanna see me all filled up?”

Katsuki nodded feebly, breath stuttering in his chest.

God, Katsuki fucking did.

And Katsuki’s pressing bruises into the already marled skin of Shinso’s hips, and he couldn’t stop himself from continuously trying to move Shinso- to make him go faster. But Shinso’s fucking strong and Katsuki’s too blinded with need to try any harder.  

And he sees Shinso’s thighs trembling, and how the purple-hair is so stricken with sensitivity that his cock is drooling a steady stream of precum onto Katsuki’s stomach. Shinso bit out a strangled moan and pitched forwards, rutting his cock against the slick on Katsuki’s stomach as he bounced on the tip of his cock.

Fuck, he really doesn’t have any shame, does he?

Katsuki could watch this all fucking day.

But when Shinso dropped down on his cock and started slowly rocking in his lap, Katsuki let out such an embarrassingly whiny sound that he had to push his face into the crook of Shinso’s neck in a pathetic attempt to stifle himself. And then Shinso’s scraping his nails over Katsuki’s scalp, and digging his fingertips into Katsuki’s neck, and he’s grinding down on Katsuki’s cock so slowly and it ached.

Shinso moaned again and Katsuki’s hands are smoking, and the sharp scent of Nitroglycerin is absolutely cloying- but Shinso’s moaning, and he’s bouncing on Katsuki’s cock, and it all feels so good, and Shinso’s digging his nails into Katsuki’s back, and he’s moaning, and Katsuki-

“I’m gonna cum,” he rushed out, squeezing his eyes shut as he locked his arms around Shinso’s chest and shoved his face into the purple-hair’s neck, desperately groaning, “Hitoshi-“

But Shinso just took his chin in hand, wrenching his face to the side and breathing into his ear, “I was such a good boy, Katsuki.” Shinso ground down on him hard. “I want my reward.”

Katsuki’s vision whited out as he came hard, pulsing into Shinso with a weak, choked moan.   

And Katsuki stayed clinging to Shinso as the purple-hair slowly rocked on his lap, milking a final few low groans from Katsuki before he finally stilled. After a minute filled with nothing but Katsuki’s heavy breathing, Shinso made to pull away and Katsuki instinctively tightened his grip around him.

“J-just a sec,” Katsuki gasped, groaning as he continued twitching inside of Shinso. And Shinso was still so fucking tight- gripping him like he was still trying to fuck himself on Katsuki’s cock.

Fuck, Katsuki’s head was swimming- he needed to breath.

But Shinso’s hand was gently carding through his hair, and he was pressing lazy kisses to the side of Katsuki’s face.

It was more calming than Katsuki ever would’ve expected it to be.

“Gonna flip you,” Katsuki murmured in warning a minute later, firmly locking his arms around Shinso as he swapped their positions with a groan.

Shinso squirmed as Katsuki slowly pulled out of him and gingerly lowered Shinso’s legs to settle on either side of Katsuki’s hips. He smoothed his hands up Shinso’s sides before hesitantly glancing at his face.

He still had that fucking eyeliner on, all smudged and streaked from crying.

Katsuki almost felt guilty about how marred his neck and thighs were, both littered with teeth-shaped bruises and dark hickies that stood out harshly against his pale skin. And yeah, Katsuki probably should’ve felt bad, but he instead found himself reveling in the thought that those assholes at the bar would probably tremble with envy when they saw the marks. 

Shinso looked grungy- foul and torn apart.

Jesus, he looked fucking amazing.

And the sight made Katsuki want to ruin him all over again.

“You should take a shower,” he breathed instead of insisting they keep going, idly running a hand up Shinso’s sticky thigh.

“What?” Shinso slurred, whispering a laugh as his chest heaved. “I don’t look nice like this?”

And Katsuki gripped Shinso’s leg with a hand tucked behind his knee, pushed it back against the purple-hair’s shoulder, and shuddered at the steady stream of thick cum oozing out of him. “Of course you do,” he groaned, his voice completely wrecked.

And Katsuki doesn’t fucking know what possessed him to do this, but he ran the rough pad of his finger over Shinso’s hole, making the purple-hair jolt and sputter out a surprised, “Katsuki?”

Katsuki licked his lips, watching as his own cum dirtied Shinso’s pale thighs as he squirmed in Katsuki’s hold.

“Can you cum again?” Katsuki asked lowly, easing the tip of his finger inside and feeling his eyes roll back at how fucking wet Shinso was after being filled.

“Y-yeah, probably,” he stuttered, his hips twitching like he was trying to keep from fucking himself on Katsuki’s finger and Jesus fucking Christ, Katsuki could not handle this.

Katsuki immediately dropped onto his elbows between Shinso’s spread legs, curling his arms beneath his thighs to pin his hips against the mattress. He gave one small, appreciative nip to the soft skin of Shinso’s inner thigh before licking a thick strip up the underside of his cock.

Shinso’s back arched off the bed with a gasp, and he fisted a hand in Katsuki’s hair when the blonde laved his tongue over the head of Shinso’s cock, tasting him before fully taking him into his mouth.

And Shinso’s squirming beneath him, panting and shuddering from oversensitivity when he urgently said, “Katsuki,” roughly tugging on the blonde’s hair. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last like this.”

Katsuki pulled Shinso’s cock from his mouth with an obscene, wet pop, smirking at him as he rubbed the length of two of his fingers against Shinso’s dripping hole and then stuffed them inside him.

“Katsuki!” Shinso cried out, back arching beautifully as Katsuki worked him back open.  

And he smirked at Shinso viciously when he curled his fingers inside him, chuckling as he asked, “You like that?”

“Mhm,” Shinso whined, nodding as he bit into his lower lip.  

Katsuki teasingly flicked his tongue over the head of Shinso’s cock, asking, “You want a little more?”

And when Shinso nodded frantically, digging his nails into Katsuki’s back, Katsuki clicked his tongue, curling his fingers again as he growled, “Then ask me nicely.”

“Ah, fuck- Katsuki, please!” Shinso begged, eyes hazy with tears as his cock drooled precum onto his stomach. “Please, I- pleasepleasepleaseplease-“ he rushed, his words breaking off into a long, low moan when Katsuki immediately swallowed his cock.

When Shinso’s cock hit the back of his throat, Katsuki sucked hard and curled his fingers again, softly rubbing the bundle of nerves inside Shinso that finally made the purple-hair clamp his thighs on either side of Katsuki’s head, moaning Katsuki’s name like it was the only word he could remember.

Shinso came with a choked cry, clenching around Katsuki’s fingers as he spurted hot cum down Katsuki’s throat. Katsuki continued suckling on his cock, softly milking him as Shinso’s fists clenched painfully in his hair.

And as Shinso panted, open-mouthed, his pupils blown wide, Katsuki climbed on top of him, resting his elbows on either side of Shinso’s head, and he was one single fucking shred of self-restraint away from fucking him all over again.

But their faces were so close together like this, and Shinso looked so fucking satisfied that Katsuki couldn’t help kissing him.

And Shinso kissed him back- and that was kind of nice.

God, Katsuki was definitely delirious.

“Payment,” Katsuki panted as he pulled away, licking his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “For buying me dinner.”

“It is fucking not,” Shinso breathed with a shaky laugh.

Katsuki collapsed into the spot next to Shinso, both of them breathing hard. He turned onto his side, slackly reaching over to lay his palm flat on Shinso’s chest.

Shinso’s heart was racing.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.  

“Mmm,” Shinso hummed, lazily patting the hand Katsuki had on his chest. “I’m great.”

After a few minutes, Katsuki was startled awake from Shinso nudging him in the arm with a bottle of water. Katsuki took it with a grateful nod, downing the entire thing in seconds.

“So about that shower,” Shinso murmured, voice hoarse as he lolled his head to the side to gaze at Katsuki through half-lidded eyes. “Care to join me?”

In the roughly thirty seconds it took them to amble into the bathroom, they were both fucking exhausted.

And maybe it’s because Katsuki’s so tired, but showering with Shinso wasn’t nearly as weird as he thought it’d be.

They washed themselves mostly in silence, wordlessly skirting around each other as they traded places beneath the spray of hot water.

And maybe Shinso was kind of annoying- playfully poking Katsuki in the face when his eyelids started to droop. And maybe Katsuki felt the need to bite the finger Shinso had in front of him in retaliation, causing them to briefly make out for twenty minutes and then have to rush to wash each other’s hair before the water went cold.

And maybe Katsuki had to help Shinso step over the lip of the tub when the purple-hair winced trying to do it himself. Maybe Shinso had whispered out an embarrassed, “Sorry,” and maybe Katsuki had only kissed him in response to get him to shut up.

They dried themselves quietly, Shinso softly humming one of the songs he’d bopped along to in the bar that night. He had barely swept a towel through his wet hair before moving to hang it back up and Katsuki hated that he noticed it.

“Aren’t you gonna dry your hair?” Katsuki asked, bristling.

Shinso glanced over at him, blinking dazedly a few times as he looked between the towel and Katsuki. “No?”

Katsuki shouldn’t say anything.

He didn’t care if the idiot went to bed with wet hair.

He didn’t.

“You’re gonna get fucking sick!” he snapped, slamming the seat down on the toilet. “Sit the hell down!”

“What-“

And Katsuki snarled at him, snatching the towel from Shinso’s hands as he tugged the purple-hair down to growl into his ear, “Be a good boy and do as you’re fucking told.”

Shinso made a punched-out wheezing sound, quickly lowering himself to sit. “It’s really fucked up that you’re using that against me,” he said in a rush, scratching at his neck. “Like, this feels wildly dehumanizing for some reason.”

But he was blushing a little bit, and he kept glancing up at Katsuki.  

He looked like he was waiting for something.

Katsuki took a step towards him, nudging Shinso’s knees apart to stand between his spread legs. He put the towel on Shinso’s head and guided him to lean forwards so that his forehead was pressed against Katsuki’s chest.

“How else am I supposed to get you to do what I fucking tell you?” Katsuki murmured, trying to sound irritated as he rustled the towel over Shinso’s damp hair.  

And Shinso laughed softly at that, loosely settling his arms around Katsuki’s hips.

Katsuki ruffled the towel through Shinso's hair one final time. And when Katsuki pulled it from his head, Shinso was just staring up at him, wide-eyed.

He looked pleased.  

“I’m gonna throw your fucking sheets in the wash,” Katsuki grumbled, embarrassed as he methodically folded the towel and hung it up. “You have spares, right?”

“You really don’t need to do that- but yeah, in the hall closet,” Shinso said, stretching his arms over his head to crack his back. “And thank you.”

Shinso tiredly looked over at the sink, sighing. "While you do that I’m gonna brush my fucking teeth.”

“Thank god,” Katsuki grumbled, shoving Shinso’s shoulder as he made his way out of the bathroom to strip the bed. “You reek of cigarettes and fucking cum.”

“Breakfast of champions, right?” Shinso laughed, grinning before he suddenly sprang to his feet, grabbed Katsuki by his shoulders, and crowded the blonde until his back was pressed to the cold tile of the bathroom wall.

Shinso tilted Katsuki's head back with a grip on his chin and kissed him, languidly dragging his tongue over Katsuki’s before pulling back to whisper, “And how do I taste, Katsuki?”

And Katsuki’s cock fucking betrayed him by twitching, and he knows that Shinso felt it happen by the pleased little smirk taking over the asshole’s stupid face.

“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted preemptively before Shinso had a chance to comment, blushing as he roughly shoved at the purple-hair’s chest. “You taste gross! Horrible, actually- like fucking cigarettes!”

Shinso laughed a little bit at that, slipping an arm around Katsuki’s waist to pull them chest-to-chest. He grinned, cocking his head as he drawled, “This coming from the guy who tastes like actual cum.”

“Yeah? And whose fucking fault is that?” Katsuki demanded, huffing as he whipped his head to stare at the shower curtain instead of Shinso’s dumbass, amused fucking face. He shoved his forearm against Shinso’s chest, growling, “And don’t even act like cum tastes worse than cigarettes!”

Shinso grinned delightedly, digging his nails into Katsuki’s lower back as he pressed into the blonde and murmured, “Doesn’t it, though?” into Katsuki’s ear.

“I’m not gonna stand here and argue the fucking semantics of which tastes worse with you!” Katsuki shouted, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to get Shinso’s stupid mouth away from his goddamn neck.

“Okay, how about this,” Shinso started, snickering as he moved his hand to cup Katsuki’s face. “Katsuki, if you had to choose, would you rather-“

“Jesus,” Katsuki interrupted sharply, shoving Shinso’s face to the side. “You’re so much hotter when you’re fucking quiet!”

Shinso raised a delighted brow at that, gazing at Katsuki like he was the most amusing thing the purple-hair had ever seen, and Katsuki could feel his hands twitch with the desire to strangle him.

But Shinso caught his outstretched wrist in hand and smiled as he pressed a kiss to the heel of Katsuki’s palm. And the only reason Katsuki allowed Shinso to lock his arms around Katsuki and hug him was because-

Well, Katsuki doesn’t think he’s ever seen Shinso smile like that before.

Shinso hummed, brushing his nose against Katsuki’s ear as he murmured, “I’m hot, huh?”

“When you shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grumbled, quickly turning away as he blushed. “Maybe.”

Shinso laughed softly at that, and those warm little puffs of air felt like fucking fire wracking down Katsuki’s neck.

Katsuki took a shaky breath, almost feeling lightheaded. He sighed, lolling his head to the side until his temple was pressed against Shinso’s cheek.

“Unless if you want your fucking sheets to crunch beneath you,” he grumbled, idly trailing his fingers over Shinso’s bruised hip. “You gotta let go of me.”

Shinso pulled away slowly, puffing his cheeks as he peered down at Katsuki- and Katsuki does not find that fucking cute at all.

He doesn’t.

“You make a reasonable case,” Shinso murmured, unwrapping his arms from Katsuki. “Definitely don’t want my sheets to have texture.”

“That’s fucking nasty,” Katsuki spat, wrinkling his nose at the mere thought of it.

Shinso laughed, moving to rifle through one of the drawers beneath the bathroom sink. “You’re the one who brought it up,” he said, grinning as he turned to Katsuki and tapped him on the forehead with a packaged toothbrush before holding it out to him. “For you, doll.”

Katsuki snarled, snatching the toothbrush from Shinso’s hand and then full-force smacking the purple-hair in the side of the face with it.

“Don’t push your fucking luck, asshole,” Katsuki growled, tearing the toothbrush from its packaging as he leveled Shinso with an unamused look. “You’re not that cute.”

Shinso smirked back at him. “I’ve been told otherwise.”

“By who? Those old fuckers at the bar?” Katsuki groused, irritated as he grabbed the toothpaste from Shinso’s hands before the purple-hair even had a chance to use it. He gave Shinso a quick onceover, grinning despite himself. “Not gonna be very popular with all those marks on you.”

Shinso hummed, eyeing his reflection in the mirror as he trailed a hand over some of the bruises marring his neck. He glanced over at Katsuki, smirking. “Don’t tell me that’s why you did that.”

And no, that wasn’t why Katsuki had done it.

But the fact that it had crossed his mind, even only briefly, made him kind of fucking embarrassed. 

“Of course not,” Katsuki muttered, squeezing a line of toothpaste on his brush before passing it back to Shinso. “That’d be fucking stupid.”

“Really?” Shinso murmured lowly, nudging his arm against Katsuki’s as he smiled over at him. “Cause I think it’s kind of fucking hot.”

A very, very small explosion might’ve erupted from the fist Katsuki had clenched at his side. And it may have been accompanied by a sharp pop and a ripple of smoke as he stared at Shinso’s face in complete surprise.

And Shinso definitely noticed it, his brows immediately raising. He silently reached around Katsuki to flip the bathroom fan on and Katsuki stood tensely in preparation for the inevitable shit Shinso was sure to give him.

But for some reason- instead of commenting, or teasing, or saying literally anything at all- Shinso just shot Katsuki a small grin and hummed to himself as he went back to brushing his teeth.  

When they trudged back into Shinso’s bedroom, the purple-hair rifled through one of his dresser drawers before pulling out two pairs of dark boxers and tossing one to Katsuki.

And Katsuki could admit that he was inwardly a little thankful for that, but he was still irritated at the pleased look Shinso gave him when he pulled them on.

“Thanks for changing the sheets,” Shinso mumbled, collapsing on top of the blankets as he yawned into his hand and asked, “Are you tired?”

“Of course I’m fucking tired,” he grumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, his back to Shinso. “I go to sleep at like 9 pm. What time is it anyways?”

Shinso unlocked his phone, staring at it bleary-eyed for a moment before answering, “Almost 6.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki bit out under his breath, grabbing his pants from the floor. “At least the trains are running.”

“Or you could just stay,” Shinso supplied airily, like it didn’t matter to him either way. But when Katsuki looked over at him, there was this uncharacteristically hopeful little grin on his face.

In that moment, Katsuki felt uncomfortably weak to it.

He was just tired.

Fuck, he was so tired.

“You asking me to?”

Shinso idly reached a hand out and traced his fingertip along the waistband of Katsuki’s underwear. “Will you say yes if I am?”

And all Katsuki could bring himself to do was roll his eyes as he stood, turning to face Shinso.

“Am I okay like this?” he asked, gesturing at himself clad in only the pair of borrowed boxers, same as Shinso.

They’d literally just fucked, but for some reason Katsuki felt like he should put on more clothes. Because now that his brain wasn’t muddled with lust, he was quickly realizing that he was entirely unprepared for this situation.

He didn’t spend the night at other people’s houses.

He didn’t wear their clothes or shower with them.

He didn’t dry their fucking hair.

Shinso hummed affirmatively, slipping beneath the blankets. “You sleep on this side,” he instructed, interrupting Katsuki’s thoughts as he gestured towards the side of the bed closest to the door and shuffled a little closer to the window.

“You asking me or telling me?”

“Asking,” Shinso replied, yawning again. “Very nicely, by the way.”

Katsuki flipped the light off and made his way back to his side of the bed. He pulled the covers back, offhandedly asking, “There a special reason why?”

“I do a lot of solo work,” Shinso murmured tiredly, nuzzling his face into his pillow. “Makes it feel like someone’s watching my back this way.”

And Katsuki’s hands stilled at that.

He glanced over at Shinso, lying curled-up on his side with a hand resting in the thin space that would soon be separating them.

The mattress dipping had Shinso’s hand splaying out atop the covers, like he was about to reach for Katsuki, but he clenched it into a fist and pulled away instead.

Katsuki settled back against the pillows and impulsively reached over to ruffle his hand through Shinso’s hair. “Hey, dumbass,” he murmured, voice low. And when Shinso sluggishly cracked an eye open, Katsuki held up his arm and grumbled, “Get over here.”

Katsuki groaned as he made to creak his eyes open, wincing at how bright the afternoon sun shone through the blinds. But he couldn’t really bring himself to care. The mattress was warm, and his pillow smelled like Shinso-

His eyes snapped open.

Katsuki looked down and- yeah, that was definitely Shinso. He was dead asleep, his body draped bonelessly over Katsuki’s side with his cheek mashed against Katsuki’s bare chest.

Katsuki swallowed thickly.

Fuck.

If his heart clenched in his chest any harder he’s pretty sure he was just going to throw up at this point.

He sighed heavily, cocking his head to glare at Shinso’s sleeping face, unable to tell if he never wanted to see the asshole again or if he wanted to stay lounging in bed with him all fucking day.

He figured it’s probably the latter.

And that kind of made him want to get the fuck out of there right now.

He painstakingly shuffled out from beneath Shinso, stealthily nudging a pillow in the gap where his body had been. He sat up slowly and groaned as he rolled his shoulders.

Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in so late- or the last time he’d stayed up so late.

What time was it, anyway?

He glanced back to Shinso only to find the fucker curled around that damn pillow like he’d been clinging to Katsuki a mere minute ago. Shinso slowly hitched his leg over the pillow, nestling himself closer, and Katsuki’s throat went dry- and that pillow’s not supposed to be there, and now the blankets were all fucked up, and Katsuki-

Fuck!

He clicked his tongue, cursing as he straightened the blanket as best as he could and roughly shoved the top edge beneath Shinso’s chin.

And of course that moment- the one where Katsuki is leaning over him, practically cradling the loser’s face in his hand- is the moment when Shinso decided to wake up.

“I wasn’t doing anything weird!” Katsuki snapped defensively, snatching his hand away as Shinso blinked up at him in a daze.

“Feeling me up in my sleep?” Shinso muttered hoarsely. “Not very heroic of you.”

“Shut up!” he shouted back, blushing. “I was not!”

“Listen,” Shinso grumbled, his voice so much deeper than usual- strained and throaty. “You’re very you and all, but it’s too early for you to be shouting.”

And okay, yeah. Shinso was not acting like he wanted Katsuki here at all.

He should leave.

Actually, he shouldn’t have even spent the night to begin with. 

Katsuki sucked in a harsh breath, feeling it rattle through his lungs as he moved to lean over the side of the bed and grab at his clothes.

“Whoa, wait,” Shinso prompted, reaching out to splay his hand over Katsuki’s thigh as if it would anchor the blonde to the mattress. “You’re not leaving, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t even know why I’m still fucking here.”

Shinso tsked and looked away sharply, crossing his arms as he grumbled, “Okay, honesty time because otherwise you’re actually about to hurt my feelings.” He looked Katsuki in the eye, patiently asking, ”Katsuki, do you really want to leave?”

And maybe it’s the way he called him Katsuki with that almost pleading look in his eyes- looking unfairly close to how he had last night- but it made Katsuki’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

Katsuki doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

And his chest kind of fucking hurts now, and he doesn’t know what to do, and if Shinso kept looking at him like that for a single second longer Katsuki was going to do something absolutely psychotic- like punch him in the face, or throw himself off the fire escape, or maybe he’d just start to fucking cry.

Katsuki clenched his fists, pointedly looking away as he roughly muttered, “I don’t want to leave.”

“Then stay,” Shinso said aimlessly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I don’t know if you need to hear me say it, but I do want you here.”

And that was the moment when Katsuki realized he did need to hear Shinso say it.

That felt- it was kind of nice.

“But, my brother in Christ, please shut the fuck up until I’m fully awake.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at that, unable to keep himself from chuckling.

Shinso always had to test his fucking patience.

Shinso had already tugged the covers back up to his chin when he lifted his knee to nudge at Katsuki beneath the blankets. “I really almost said, ‘then be a doll for me and go make some coffee’, but figured you might actually explode me if I did that.”

Katsuki found himself smirking back at him wryly. “Isn’t that just a slick way of you asking anyway?”

Shinso hummed, nuzzling his face against that damn pillow. “Oh, is it? I hadn’t even noticed.”

“Fucking brat,” Katsuki chided, shoving Shinso’s knee away but standing from the bed regardless.

Shinso laughed, smile evident in his voice when he called after him, “That’s my charm, Katsuki!”

Katsuki reentered the room a few minutes later, not quite able to understand why he’d just made coffee like he was told to instead of blasting Shinso to the Shadow Realm for even attempting to give him a command.

“For future reference,” Shinso said, gingerly taking the mug offered to him. “You totally didn’t have to do that, I was 100% just trying to be irritating.”

“I know that already,” Katsuki grumbled as he sat cross-legged next to Shinso and leaned back against the headboard.

Future reference.

Implying that Shinso wanted this to happen again. 

“But thanks,” Shinso murmured, raising his mug to him. “That was nice of you.”

They stayed lounging on the purple-hair’s bed for a while, both idly scrolling through their phones as they sipped their coffee- Katsuki sitting slightly propped against the headboard in an effort to keep himself awake, and Shinso, leaning against the blonde’s shoulder so heavily that Katsuki had to fight the constant urge to shove the asshole onto the floor.

And yeah, Shinso did show him just as many cat videos as he did things Katsuki would actually care about. And what the fuck ever, Katsuki did sit through all of them and barely complain about it at all.

And Katsuki might’ve laughed once or twice, and Shinso might’ve fucking smiled at him in response every time- looking all boyish and stupidly pleased and Jesus fucking Christ-

Katsuki should leave right now.

He should.

Katsuki eyed Shinso’s alarm clock, sighing. Personal feelings (that didn’t exist) about it aside, he really did need to leave soon.

He startled when Shinso smoothed an idle hand up his side to get his attention, purple eyes still trained on a video playing on his phone as he asked, “You hungry?”

It was like a switch being flipped.

Katsuki knew anger- that was something he could express.

“Yeah, actually,” Katsuki growled, fury reignited as he slammed his phone face-down on the nightstand and slapped Shinso’s hand away, causing the purple-hair to pout at him. “But you don’t have any fucking food in your house! You have coffee, rice, and fucking mustard- like, what the fuck is wrong with you? What do you eat?”

“Well, see there’s this handy little thing called takeout, don’t know if you’ve heard of it,” Shinso remarked, sliding his eyes to Katsuki as the blonde silently fumed. “And what exactly were you doing scavenging through my kitchen?”

Katsuki opened his mouth, fully prepared to shout some more, but immediately grit his teeth before any words could come out. He could feel himself blushing and he kind of wanted to throw Shinso out of the closest window and watch the asshole splatter against the pavement below.

“Don’t tell me you were gonna cook me breakfast,” Shinso said slowly, sounding entirely too fucking amused for his own good.

Katsuki bristled, self-consciously hunching his shoulders as he shouted, “I was gonna cook myself breakfast, asshole! Fuck you!”

“Selfish,” Shinso chided with a pleased grin, setting his empty mug on his nightstand before turning back to Katsuki. “I really think you should be nicer to me.”

And Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat when Shinso threw a thigh over his hips and settled himself comfortably on Katsuki’s lap, tilting his head at the blonde in amusement.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Katsuki breathed back, setting his own mug down and moving to clamp his hands around Shinso’s bruised hips as the purple-hair rocked softly in his lap.

Katsuki hissed out a soft sound- fuck, he really did need to leave.

But Shinso nuzzled his face into Katsuki’s hair, dragging his nails down the blonde’s neck as he teased, “What’s it that Midoriya’s always saying? Kacchan sugoi?”

“Are you fucking trying to piss me off?” Katsuki snarled as he flipped them over, irritated for multiple reasons, but primarily because he’s painfully aware that Shinso hadn’t resisted that in the slightest and he doesn’t know how the actual fuck he’s supposed to feel about that.

But Shinso only pursed his lips a little bit in response, grinning up at Katsuki as he shrugged and murmured out a soft, “More or less.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue as he slid his palms up Shinso’s bare chest, taking the purple-hair’s chin in hand when Katsuki curled over him and grumbled, “You’re really being a fucking brat today.”

Shinso rolled his eyes at that, more than a little amused. “Oh no,” he drawled lazily, shooting Katsuki a shit-eating grin. “Don’t tell me I’ve earned a punishment.”

And that’s really all that it took.

They wandered from the bedroom, Shinso heading to the kitchen to refill their mugs again, leaving Katsuki to aimlessly pace around the living room because he needed to leave- and he knew that and he had known two fucking hours ago when they’d first woken up!

And it’s not like Shinso had even outright asked him to stay. But the purple-hair just kept offering Katsuki more coffee, and asking him if he’s sure he didn’t want to order food- which pissed Katsuki off- but then Shinso would show him another stupid video, and laugh, and lean against him, and Katsuki-

Fuck!

And Katsuki barely fucking liked coffee!

What the actual fuck was he doing?

Katsuki dropped his face into his hands, groaning. And he nearly jumped out of his skin when a scratching sound echoed from the window a few steps away from him.

“Oh, shit,” Shinso laughed from the kitchen. “Hey, can you pop open the window to the fire escape?”

Katsuki raised a brow, crisis momentarily diverted as he moved to curiously peer through the window and-

“There’s a cat out here,” he remarked in distaste. “It’s dirty.”

Shinso walked back into the living room, handing Katsuki his mug as the blonde held weirdly intense eye contact with this ruddy black cat. He eyed the massive chunk taken out of the thing’s ear and the unsettlingly tormented look in its big yellow eyes.

“She’s mine, she lives here,” Shinso said in explanation, taking a sip of coffee before setting his mug down.

Katsuki eyed the cat. “Why does she look like she’s committed war crimes?”

“Cause she probably fucking has,” Shinso laughed, seemingly delighted by that as he unlatched the window and pushed it open. When the cat slunk into the apartment, eyeing them both with nothing short of pure disdain, Shinso bodily snatched the thing from the sill and forcibly cradled her in his arms as she fought him every step of the way.

He held his finger against the cat’s chest like a gun and the cat frantically tried to bite it. “Confess your crimes,” Shinso murmured, lightly jabbing her. And the thing is violently swatting at his hand, hissing angrily as it tried to squirm from Shinso's hold.

And Katsuki couldn’t fucking help it, he started to laugh- poorly-suppressed amusement coloring his voice when he remarked, “Pretty sure that thing fucking hates you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Shinso said, kissing the cat on the forehead as she continued gnawing on his finger.

And Katsuki witnessed the exact moment that the cat’s tooth pierced Shinso's finger. Shinso cursed, lightly biting the thing’s good ear in retaliation before bodily chucking her at the sofa.

The cat plodded onto the coffee table, eyes locked onto Shinso as she slowly approached his mug sat near the edge, and Shinso dove to grab it a second before the cat swept it’s paw in the spot where it’d just been.

Katsuki raised an unimpressed brow. “Why do you even keep that thing?”

“Because she’s lovely,” Shinso groused, huffing as he glared at the cat. But his face softened when the thing jumped to the floor and mashed it’s face against his leg. Shinso cocked his head, puffing his cheeks as he crouched down to pet the cat from nose to tail. “Honestly- and feel free to take this the wrong way- but she kind of reminds me of you.”

“Fucking why?” he seethed, his glare getting weaker and more unsure the longer Shinso continued grinning up at him.  

“Well, for starters,” Shinso mused, holding his bleeding finger up like it was the most endearing thing in the world. And the mental flashback that gave Katsuki of him biting Shinso’s finger last night before ravishing the purple-hair against the shower wall almost made Katsuki’s vision white out.

“She basically can’t stand the sight of me,” Shinso explained, laughing as he eyed Katsuki. “But despite that- she really, really seems to like me for some reason.”

“I don’t fucking like you!” Katsuki rushed out, but his voice cracked so sharply at the end that he didn’t even bother to try and be insistent about it.    

Shinso hummed, smirking as he wryly asked, “Don’t you, though?”

And Katsuki just stood there, frozen in place and blushing like a fucking idiot.

And maybe Katsuki was worse at hiding his nerves than he thought, because Shinso took one look at his flushed face before he snatched the cat from the floor and shot Katsuki a small grin.

“Plus, I mean,” he mused, propping the cat up next to his face like a child displaying a piece of macaroni art they were particularly proud of. He raised a brow at Katsuki. “Cute, right?”

And the cat literally wasn’t cute at all- it was actually kind of a fucking abomination. But when Shinso was holding the thing up, nuzzling his cheek against its head, smiling like that…

Katsuki supposed the cat could be considered cute.

In a way.

They wandered back into Shinso’s bedroom after Katsuki had insisted he needed to get dressed- which Shinso heatedly protested by shoving Katsuki onto the sofa and straddling him. And that ended with Katsuki accidentally shattering the mug he’d been holding with a small explosion.

Katsuki eyed the alarm clock on Shinso’s nightstand again, cursing.

They dressed quickly and Katsuki barely tolerated Shinso tidying his hair before they made their way towards the front door of the apartment.

And Shinso was literally just standing there in boxers, socks, and- of all fucking things in the entire world- a fucking Deku t-shirt.  

Katsuki cursed under his breath. He bet Shinso wore that on purpose just to piss him off.

God, Katsuki’s merch was so much cooler.

He should replace that stupid fucking shirt with one of his own.

“You leaving because of me?” Shinso asked, leaning against the wall as he watched Katsuki lace his boots.

“No,” Katsuki said sternly, sighing. “Stupid fucking agency meeting I have to go to.”

He stood, taking his coat with a mumbled, “Thanks,” when Shinso held it out to him.

“You working tonight?” Katsuki asked gruffly after he’d shrugged on his jacket, hands fiddling with his phone.

“Not at the bar,” Shinso said. “But I do have a patrol.”

“What time?”

“Two.”

“In the morning?” Katsuki asked in alarm, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

“Yeah?” Shinso said, confused as his phone chimed in his hand and he glanced down at it.

And Katsuki knows it’s his own address that the fucker is looking at all surprised like that. But it’s when Shinso smiled a little bit that Katsuki’s mouth was finally able to work again.

“Fucking come over sometime before that then,” he muttered, looking away before gruffly adding, “If you want to.”

“Oh,” Shinso said, blinking owlishly in surprise before his lips twitched into a wry smirk. “And here I thought you were just here for a mediocre fuck.”

“Yeah, well me fuckin’ too, asshole,” Katsuki barked, ducking his head as he blushed.

And then they were both just standing there in front of Shinso’s apartment door, pointedly not looking at each other like absolute fucking morons.

Katsuki didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing- he didn’t know what Shinso expected of him right now. What did people do in situations like this?

Like, should Katsuki fucking hug him or something? Kiss him, maybe?

Should Katsuki just run away?

“Come here,” Shinso laughed, flustered as he waved Katsuki over to him.

“What for?”

Shinso rolled his eyes, muttering, “Fine, I’ll come to you,” under his breath as he approached Katsuki.

He shoved Katsuki in the chest, backing him up against the apartment door with a leg pressed firmly between Katsuki’s thighs.

“The fuck’s with you and shoving me up against shit?” Katsuki demanded breathlessly, already half-hard from the treatment.

Shinso hummed, grinning. “What’s with you letting me shove you up against shit?”

“Again with the fucking riddles,” Katsuki bit out, trying to sound irritated and failing miserably.

The whisper of a laugh that Shinso gave him in response felt a lot like a reward, and it made Katsuki want to do something absolutely fucking insane like shake him by his collar and demand he do it again.

He checked the time again, irritated. He needed to leave like forty minutes ago.

“Text me what kind of fucking food you like to eat,” he grumbled, embarrassed as he tugged Shinso forwards with a hand fisted in the front of that stupid fucking shirt and kissed him.

And as he was closing the apartment door behind him, Katsuki felt entirely incapable of stopping himself from banging his fist against the door-jamb and shouting, “And throw that nasty fucking shirt away! You look like a tool!” before slamming it shut.

He stalked down the hallway with the sound of Shinso’s surprised laughter echoing from the apartment behind him. And when he got to the bottom of the stairs, his phone pinged in his pocket with a text message.

Shinso [1:29 pm]

I like salty stuff. Like soups and seasoned fish

Also, a regular sent me this last night

[image]

It was a photo that Katsuki doesn’t remember being taken, so he had to have been thoroughly drunk at that point in the night. It showed Shinso, making a drink as he chatted with Katsuki, blatantly ignoring everyone else at the packed bar. Shinso looked like he was genuinely laughing at something Katsuki had just said- that boyish half-grin on his face. They were both flushed and Katsuki-

He was looking at Shinso like he was aching for him.

Katsuki cursed under his breath.

Fuck, Shinso had really just been holding onto this the entire time, hadn’t he?

Shinso [1:29 pm]

Just why’re you looking at me like that, Kacchan?

Bakugo [1:30 pm]

Fuck you

Shinso [1:30 pm]

Fuck me yourself, coward ❤️

Katsuki hated that he found himself smiling down at his phone.

God, Katsuki couldn’t fucking stand him.