Chapter Text
“You want me to do fucking what now?” Katsuki asked, tightening the top strap of his boot.
“It’s just a date, dude,” Eijirou said, shrugging nonchalantly. “One date. You don’t like the guy, you can totally bail. No one will give you a hard time. We just want you to give it the ol’ college try.”
“The last time you told me to give something the ‘ol’ college try,’ Pikachu nearly set my apartment on fire, Raccoon Eyes used my phone to drunk-dial half of our class, and Elbows puked off my balcony on the neighbor’s dog. Hard pass.”
“Hey, that was three years ago, and I did not almost set your apartment on fire,” Denki called from the other side of the lockers. “The wiring in your apartment sucked, your toaster was cheap, and I apologized for it like, seven times already. You can stop lording that over me any time now.”
“He has a point,” Eijirou agreed. “You do tend to bring that one up a lot.”
The explosive hero groaned, raking his hand across his face. He would give literally anything for something or someone to rescue him from the situation he’d unwittingly found himself in. He’d been ambushed within seconds of entering the locker room at the agency by his (self-proclaimed) best friend and the world’s dumbest sidekick—not his, thank fuck. He had enough paperwork as is.
His savior came in the form of a series of beeps that echoed throughout the room. When they were first introduced, he’d been reluctant to wear the communication device that was currently strapped to his wrist. After all, they were glorified pagers, and that was an antiquated-as-fuck way to communicate, especially for an agency that was practically printing cash. Something about it struck the rabbit hero as endearing, so she not only doubled down, but ensured that his device had an obnoxiously-oversized face plate and neon orange strap.
“So you won’t have an excuse to misplace it, grump ass,” she’d said.
“Looks like it’s time to go to work, chucklefucks.” Katsuki slapped his knees and stood from the bench. “Enough jacking around. Usagiyama catches you twiddling your thumbs, and she’ll put you in a headlock.”
“She could put me in a headlock any day,” Denki said, sticking his head out from around the corner and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, securing his gauntlets before solidly whacking the part-time potato in the chest. “You’re such a fucking pig sometimes.” Ignoring Kaminari’s protests, he continued to make his way outside, Kirishima hot on his heels.
“Just tell me this,” the persistent redhead continued, boots clunking heavily against the steel steps as he followed the fleeing Bakugou down the northeast stairwell, “is it because of Midoriya?”
Coming to an abrupt stop, Katsuki sidestepped to avoid being hit in the back by his pursuer before rounding on him.
“Sorry, the fuck did you just say?”
Eijirou put his hands up defensively. “Hey man, just curious. You haven’t gone on a single date since you guys split over a year ago, so I wasn’t sure if you were still hung up on him or what.”
“First of all, Hair-for-Brains, I don’t get hung up on anyone.” Katsuki jabbed his forefinger into his friend’s sternum, causing Kirishima to take a step back. “Secondly, I don’t know how many fucking times I’m gonna hafta tell you dim-witted dipshits, but Deku and I are fine. We decided we were better off…not.”
“Not?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, bro? I’m not even sure what that means, but if you’re sure you guys are cool, that’s enough for me.” The sturdy hero scratched the back of his head, his sharp features pulled into a quizzical expression. “I’m just saying, for being ‘fine,’ you don’t really talk much.”
Katsuki felt the corner of his eye twitch as he shot a withering look at his companion. Tempted though he was, rather than blast a dent into the concrete wall, he simply turned and continued wordlessly down the stairs. A few moments passed before the metallic clunking sound resumed.
“So if it’s not because of Midoriya, why won’t you go on this date?”
“Because I don’t fucking want to. Is that not reason enough?”
Eijirou shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense. If you’re not stuck on your ex, and you’re not seeing anyone, why wouldn’t you want to go?”
Reaching the bottom step (as well as the bottom of his patience), Katsuki slowly pivoted on his heel, crossing his arms. “Because I’m not like the rest of you hormone-addled morons. I don’t mind being alone—in fact, I like it. Before you start going off on some ‘you must be lonely’ bullshit, Deku already offered to hang out if I ever get bored. Haven’t gotten bored yet. We don’t ‘talk much,’ because he lives across the damn city and works for a different agency.”
“Ah yeah, I guess that does make sense.”
“Good. Satisfied? Can we go to work now? I’m not gonna keep my rank standing around with my thumb up my ass.”
Laughing, the affable redhead nodded and opened the exit door, stepping aside to allow his friend to pass. “All right, all right… Interrogation’s over. Let’s get to it.”
“Thank fucking god. Finally.”
***
Katsuki stood in front of his closet, hands shoved in his back pockets as crimson eyes skimmed the articles of clothing hanging before him.
“How in the flying fuck did I get talked into this?” he wondered, fatigue already setting in.
Deku. Deku is how he got talked into this. As if summoned by the very mention of his name, Japan’s favorite ray of sunshine called Katsuki the next morning, just as the exhausted blonde was making his way back to his apartment.
“So uh…how’s it going, Kacchan?” he asked, the usual skittishness prevalent in his tone. Although their relationship had improved by leaps and bounds throughout high school and into their first years as pro-heroes, the nerd really hadn’t changed much. Maybe it had already become a habit beyond fixing, or maybe he just had general anxiety. Katsuki really didn’t know, and he didn’t care to ask. Deku’s business was Deku’s business, and they’d both long since decided that outside of work, Katsuki had no real place in it.
They were too alike and too different, all in the wrong ways.
“Tell Kirishima he’s a dead man,” Katsuki groaned, collapsing into the solitary chair in his living room. “And no, I don’t need you to come by with breakfast, or whatever annoying fucking thing you were thinking of asking.”
“I-I wasn’t,” Deku lied in his could-not-lie-if-innocent-lives-counted-on-it voice. “It’s been a while. You haven’t called, so I wanted to check in.”
“Okay, you checked in. I’m alive. Anything else you need, or can I pass the fuck out now?”
“You that eager to get rid of me?” Deku made an attempt at teasing, but it backfired, his lack of commitment causing the joke to fall closer to pathetic than cheeky.
Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was so fucking tired; the last thing he wanted was to tolerate an uninvited conversation, especially a tedious one with one of his least— if not his absolute least— favorite people at the moment. Still, he knew if he didn’t bite the bullet and deal with it now, one of those idiots was going to wind up outside his front door. Kirishima, he wouldn’t mind so much. Katsuki could just drag ass back to bed and let the persistent sumbitch hang out in his apartment until he’d gotten enough sleep.
Deku, on the other hand… If Deku came over, they were probably going to fight. Their fights always went one of two ways. Fortunately, he was too tired to incur anything worse than a noise complaint. Unfortunately, it had been too long sin ce the last time he’d had sex. While he didn’t care about fucking up his lease, he did care a whole lot about trying to fuck his ex. He’d sooner get railed by a rusty door handle; at least the handle wouldn’t insist on trying to be friends.
There was something laughable, if Katsuki had a better sense of humor. Friends. Yeah right, like he and Deku had ever actually been friends. Maybe when they were kids, sure, but that went to hell real quick. Then they were rivals, lovers, partners, but never friends. Katsuki was good with that; he already had friends he didn’t want to deal with.
Five minutes. He was giving this farce five minutes, and then he was hanging up. He’d call Kirishima and ream his ass out later.
“Fine. How’s shit on your side?”
“O-oh, uh…fine. Activity has been pretty steady. Always something to do, but nothing too crazy. My last two patrols were actually pretty boring. Last night, all I did was find a lost dog, and stop a purse snatcher. I know, I know, I should have left it to the police, but I wasn’t really doing anything anyway.”
Once upon a time, Katsuki would have gone on ad nauseum about Deku wasting his time with menial tasks, but these days, he couldn’t find a single fuck to give, even if he was standing in a field full of them . Miruko was constantly telling him he could stand to do more of that himself—endear himself to the public or some shit. Whatever. He didn’t really care about the opinions of faceless extras or what Deku did at any point in his day. It all amounted to the same level of nothing.
“So you’re doing really well, sounds like,” Deku continued, pushing the sluggish conversation along. “I-I mean, I knew you would. Ranking assessments are coming up, and it sounds like you’ll be holding, at least. Might even take the top spot.”
Scoffing, Katsuki rolled his eyes, ignoring the dull ache in the pits of his sockets. “Don’t give me that, Deku. We both know you’ll beat me again this year, just like you did last year. You kiss more ass than I do. Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather take it from you because I kicked ass at my job, not because I knew where to pucker.” A sickening feeling turned in his stomach. The temptation to be petty was too strong, and he wasn’t a good enough person to ignore it. “At least the actual ceremony should be better this year. Less surprises.”
“Kacchan…” Deku’s tone was sad and imbued with shame.
“Can you not?” The explosive hero somehow felt like his limbs were three times heavier. Raccoon Eyes would probably say some bullshit about “emotional labor,” but Katsuki suspected it was because talking to Deku was like walking up a 45 degree incline with a car strapped to his back. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. God forbid the little shit ease up on him now.
“Sorry. I…sorry.”
Shit. Maybe he’d gone a little too far. It was a fucking phone call. Not everything had to be a casualty in the never-ending war between the two rivals.
“Anything else? Going on. You got anything else going on?” The question was awkward, but at least he got through it.
“Uh…y-yeah, just…y’know, the usual.”
Welp, at the rate they were going, maybe Katsuki would die before the call was over, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting to bed at all.
“The usual. Cool, I guess.”
A light chuckle on Deku’s end of the line broke the tension. “Cool. Right. Good to know you haven’t changed too much.”
“What, were you expecting me to suddenly become a fucking wordsmith?” Katsuki asked, feeling the familiar tug of a smirk in the corner of his mouth. This was better. This, he could do.
“Guess not,” Deku admitted. “Really, though, it’s been good. And um…thank you. For not saying anything to Kirishima. O-or anyone. I really appreciate it.”
The sickening feeling returned with a swift vengeance. Leave it to Deku to kick him in the dick the second he dropped his guard.
“The fuck was I supposed to say? Deku and I split because I caught him fucking the two-toned, two-faced traitor in the bathroom during last year’s Hero Billboard Chart JP ceremony?” The words tasted bitter on Katsuki’s tongue. That day, one that should have been one of the happiest in his life, had turned out to be one of the worst.
Hung up on his ex? Kirishima didn’t know the half of it, and he never would. Katsuki wasn’t a bastard. Sure, he trusted his best friend to keep his mouth shut, but the best way to keep a secret was to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t going to risk be ing the reason Deku’s career ended. He’d already ended enough hero careers for one lifetime. Instead, he handed in his resignation (okay, he may have blown up the desk in Shouto’s office and carved “I fucking quit” into the wall, same fucking thing), and made two calls. The first was to Usagiyama; she’d always said the offer was open, anytime he wanted to come work for her. The second was to Kirishima, who was on the tail end of his contract with Fat Gum’s agency. If he was going to change partners, he didn’t want to go through the laborious task of finding a person who could handle his volatile temperament. It was Deku, Kirishima, or no one.
And Deku had taken himself off the table. So Kirishima it was.
“That’s fair. Still, I mean it. Thank you.”
“Tch, whatever.” Katsuki looked at his watch. Another two minutes, and this conversation was over.
The lightest sound of a sniffle emitted from the other end of the line. Even after he’d become a pro-hero, Deku was still a crybaby. It was pitiful.
“Are you…doing okay? I know you said you were fine, but you always say that, and you’re always lying.”
“Even if I was lying, which I’m not, it’s none of your damn business, Deku. You saw to that. So, for the last time, I’m fine. I’m doing a hell of a lot better than that walking HVAC unit you like to call a boyfriend.”
T his time, it was Deku’s turn to get angry. “Listen, you can say anything you want about me, but leave Shouto out of it. I f you should be angry with anyone, it’s me . I wasn’t fair to you. I know that. I—we—were stressed out about work, and it led to things not turning out how either of us wanted.”
“Understatement of the fucking year,” Katsuki hissed through gritted teeth, his free hand clenched in a tight fist. “I couldn’t get rid of you, all throughout high school. You. Chased. Me.”
“I know.”
“I finally caved in, and then you decided you wanted us to go work for Endeavor’s agency with that fucking thin-spined Daddy’s boy—and before you start bitching again, you were the one who brought him into this, not me. I get to be pissed at both of you. Believe me, I’m real fucking good at it, especially when it comes to your lying ass. You told me it would be fine. You told me I was being paranoid.”
“I know.”
“It was not fine, Izuku.”
“I…I know, Katsuki. I’m sorry, I really am! If I could go back and change things, I would. I promise I would, but I can’t.” Deku’s voice trembled as he slowly spoke. “Neither of us can. The only thing we can do is move forward. You need to start thinking about what that means for you. Kirishima is worried about you. All of your friends are. You can’t just sit in that apartment by yourself for the rest of your life.”
Katsuki jumped to his feet, pacing the length of the room. “Hah? Where do you get off telling me what I can and can’t do, you fucker? You just can’t handle not sticking your stupid fucking freckled nose in my busi—”
“I’m getting married, Kacchan.”
Katsuki’s breath caught, his heart ramming against his rib cage violently. His feet stilled, and it was as if everything around him, even time itself, had frozen. His throat tightened, and he quickly muted his phone, turning the speaker on, and setting the device on the nearby counter. He took in a shaky breath, his lungs aching like he’d just inhaled glass. Leaning on his forearm against the marble counter top, he focused on evening his breathing. He was not going to cry another tear over this selfish motherfucker. He would not.
“…Katsuki?”
Ta king one final steady breath, Katsuki tapped the screen to unmute . “When?”
“W-we haven’t really decided for certain. It was a surprise for me, too. I didn’t plan…I guess that doesn’t really matter. I haven’t told anyone else, not even my mom. I wanted you to know first. That’s partially why I called. Kirishima told me he was trying to get you to go on a blind date, and you’d said that we were okay, so he couldn’t figure out why you were so adamant about not going. I figured now was as good a time to tell you as any…just in case…”
Even after everything, Deku was still thinking about Katsuki, even if his logic off the mark and more than a little fucked up. Okay, so maybe Katsuki wasn’t as “over it” as he thought he was, but this was good. This meant that he could kill the last bits of hope that Deku would change his mind. The thoughts were stupid, but he couldn’t get rid of them.
“I just didn’t want to go. I told him that. Why should I meet some extra for dinner and waste one of my free evenings, just because Kirishima said so? Fuck that. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but his judgment kinda sucks.”
Deku snorted. “That’s a bit rude to say about your best friend.”
“He claimed that shit, not me,” Katsuki argued pointedly. “He knew what he was getting into.” He glanced at the clock on his phone. He was a minute past when he was due to hang up. His fingers twitched with the urge to press the red circle on the screen—not before telling Deku that he and his ice queen of a fiance could go fuck themselves, of course—but he hesitated. Something about hanging up the phone felt so final, like this was possibly the last time they would speak like this.
“You should go on the date,” Deku said. “Seriously. Go on the date, and see what happens. You never know, you might actually like them.”
“If they’re anywhere near as peppy as Shitty Hair, I somehow highly doubt that.”
“Go, Kacchan. Give someone else the chance to know you. You’re amazing. You’re a great hero, you’re super smart, and you genuinely care about other people, even if you don’t want to admit it.” Deku sighed, a pause hanging in the air like he wasn’t certain whether to continue. “This is probably unfair for me to say, but you’re a great partner—the best, honestly. You deserve someone that loves you more than I ever could.”
Fuck him. Fuck Deku and that stupid candy cane-striped motherfucker and their goddamned wedding that would probably be large and obnoxious and entirely too much of a hassle. Katsuki was better off without either of them in his life.
“Fine, I’ll go on the stupid date. You call Kirishima, I’m too tired for this shit.”
“Okay,” Deku agreed softly. “I’ll call him. You get in a shower and get to bed. Good job today, Kacchan.”
Fuck you, Deku.
“Thanks.” With that, Katsuki pressed the screen to end the call and flung his phone across the apartment, his body almost impossibly heavy as he dragged it to bed.
Katsuki frowned, his fingers absentmindedly running along the cuff of one of his dress shirts. Although he’d said he would go on the date, part of him wondered whether it was too late to back out. Loathe as he was to put actual effort into this shit, Kirishima had reserved a table at a fairly nice restaurant. Thankfully, it didn’t sound too upscale, as Katsuki had feared. The sturdy hero could go a little overboard at times, so he wouldn’t put it past the redhead to pick a ridiculously fancy place.
His cell rang on his bed, having been retrieved from the depths of his chair. He strode over and looked at it, clicking his tongue as he saw Kirishima’s name flashing across the screen. Snatching it up, he tucked it beneath his chin before walking back over to his closet to continue perusing his wardrobe.
“Hey buddy, how’s it going?”
“You sound pretty lively for a dead man walking,” Katsuki said, pulling a maroon dress shirt from the closet and laying it out at the foot of the bed. “Deku tell you what kind of box I’m putting your ass in later?”
“No, but I trust you to pick something tasteful,” Kirishima hummed thoughtfully, completely unfazed by his friend’s threats. “Remember to get extra wide so my shoulders will fit.”
A short, dry laugh huffed from Katsuki’s chest. “Forget that; by the time I’m done with you, your ass will fit in a tin can.”
“Aw, that’s so economical of you, bro. You really do care.”
Ignoring the comment, Katsuki grabbed two sets of black slacks from the lower rung of the closet. He chewed idly at the corner of his lower lip as he compared them. He had his run-of-the-mill pair he used for occasions where he needed to dress up for work. The other pair were a different matter entirely, having been tailored specifically to fit him; the label said “slim fit” and it wasn’t kidding. Despite the fact that they fit him like he might as well have been born in the damn things, people were less than subtle when nearly snapping their necks to get a good look at him from…certain angles… It was distracting as hell, so he saved the pants for specific occasions only. The thought of said occasions caused his throat to burn ever-so-slightly with the threat of feelings he was absolutely not going to address anytime soon. He hung the fitted slacks back in the closet.
“Hey, Bakugou…” Kirishima said quietly after a few moments of silence. “Midoriya mentioned something, and if you want to talk or anything—”
“Save it,” Katsuki clipped. “I don’t know what that loser told you, but I’m fine.”
Kirishima chuckled lowly. “Of course you would say that. He just said that you might need someone to talk to, and asked me to watch out for you. That’s all.”
“I don’t need a therapist or a babysitter, thanks.”
“Figured you would say that, too. Offer’s on the table, just in case you need it.”
Katsuki shook his head, turning to a series of silk cloths hanging from a rack on the inside wall of his closet. “The only thing I need from you is to know whether I need to wear a tie to this damn date, and the name of the suit I’m wasting my time with.”
“Tie couldn’t hurt,” Eijirou advised earnestly. “I’d give you a name, but then you might not go.”
Thin black tie in hand, Katsuki froze where he stood. “The fuck you mean by that?”
“Just trust me. You’re going to have a good time. You probably don’t even remember him. We met him years ago, and he’s totally different now.”
“So why won’t you just tell me, then?”
“On the off chance that you actually remember someone’s name for the first time in your life,” Kirishima answered dryly.
“Oh, get fucked,” Katsuki spat, his tone only half-venomous.
“That’s your job tonight, bro!” the amused redhead joked, a salacious lilt to his voice.
“Hanging up now…” The annoyed hero ignored the last-second shout of “call me tomorrow” from his friend as he ended the call, tossing the phone back onto his bed. He quickly dressed and went into the bathroom to finish getting ready. While he was brushing his teeth, his conversation with Deku kept playing through his mind in loops.
“I’m getting married, Kacchan.”
Well, good for him. Katsuki was glad he was such a “great partner” that Deku didn’t even bother letting him know that their relationship was over before he’d moved on. They’d been by each other’s side since they were children, and in each other’s bed for five years, but apparently, none of that really mattered. Shouto home-wrecking Todoroki, with his agency that he inherited and his instant name recognition…well, clearly Katsuki couldn’t compete with that.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see them, pressed against each other in that cramped stall, Izuku fucking up into Shouto with reckless abandon, the dual-quirked hero’s pale legs hooked over Izuku’s broad shoulders as he was pinned against the wall. What had his face looked like, when they both turned and realized he was standing there? For weeks after, he woke in a rage, dozens of sheets a casualty to his quirk. At some point, he just stopped replacing the hole-burned bed covers and accepted that it was part of his life now.
“You deserve someone that loves you more than I ever could.”
His toothbrush snapped clean in half, his eyes widening in surprise as the rubber-coated plastic handle flew out of his hand and bounced harmlessly against the mirror before landing in the sink. Twenty-plus years of brushing his teeth like the germs owed him money, and it took until now for him to finally break a brush. He rinse his mouth and threw both pieces of the broken brush into the trash. Obviously, he’d reached his limit.
Hot pants it was, after all.
***
Walking through the front doors of the restaurant, Katsuki wasn’t sure what to expect. Most of his meals were taken on the job or at home, and he seldom went out—it was a waste of money and way too much to spend on garbage that was usually bad for you, in his opinion. The place Kirishima had directed Katsuki to was considerably nicer than he’d let on; Katsuki could practically see his reflection in the polished floors, and there was a huge stone fountain in the entryway that looked more like a contemporary art installation. “Ostentatious” didn’t even begin to cover it, and Katsuki was suddenly glad he’d decided to dress smartly. His soft leather bomber jacket probably didn’t look nearly as good as a fitted blazer would have, but it was too late for that. He checked his coat and followed the hostess to a table in one of the private, screened-off parts of the restaurant. At the very least, Kirishima had used his brain when reserving the table. The absolute last thing he wanted to deal with on top of a stupid blind date was any nosy-ass fans or members of the media that frequented the popular dining and entertainment areas looking for a scoop.
“Not today, assholes,” Katsuki thought smugly. His self-satisfaction quickly faded when he saw who was sitting at the table. Dark eyes panned over him with interest as he approached.
“Well, would you look who we have here. It’s been a while, Bakugou.”
“You fucking Shindou.” Crimson orbs narrowed as they surveyed the brunette, who was dressed in a color-blocked black-and-white button-up and dark slacks. His suit jacket was draped over the chair next to him, showing that he’d at least put some effort into his attire. Given the man’s affinity for pretenses, it wasn’t that surprising.
Shindou flashed a toothy grin and gestured to the chair across from him. “Come, have a seat. I could pull your chair out for you, if you’d like? It’s the least I could do for Japan’s number two hero, after all.”
“I can take my own damn seat,” Katsuki seethed, pulling the chair out and plopping down unceremoniously.
“How many years has it been, anyway? Seven? Eight? I have a hard time keeping up with time these days, I’m so busy. You probably know all about that, though. Should we order drinks? You look like you could use one.” He raised his hand to flag down a server and ordered them each a whiskey neat.
Raising an eyebrow to (hopefully) mask any indications that he was even remotely impressed by the irritating man’s taste in liquor, Katsuki crossed his arms defensively. “Still as two-faced as ever, aren’t you, ya walking vibrator? Still going by that stupid fucking hero name, Grand?”
Shindou let out a laugh that was entirely too loud to be anything less than forced, shaking his head. “Of all the people to grief me about my choice in hero names, Bakugou, you really should be one of the last. That mouthful you chose…”
Katsuki sneered, pulling his hand out of his crossed arms and extending his middle finger in salute.
“Just saying, those who live in glass houses should probably keep their mouths shut.” For the briefest of moments, Shindou’s handsome features twisted into a scornful expression before returning to his passive mask of faux-amusement.
“Pretty sure neither of us would be caught dead in a glass house with our quirks, you dumb fucker.”
Sighing, Shindou rubbed his forehead like he was smoothing out any lines that might have started to form there. He gratefully took the drink that was set in front of him, waiting until the server had walked away before knocking it back in a single motion.
“Is this it, Bakugou? We’re just going to take jabs at each other over dinner and then you can run back to your friends and tell them you tried?”
While he wasn’t one to be outdone, Katsuki also wasn’t in the habit of wasting good whiskey. He snatched up his drink and took as aggressive a drink as he could manage, reveling in the way the familiar burn coated his throat. “So what? I’m not a fan of wasting what little free time I can get on jackasses.” Clicking his tongue, he glared suspiciously at his dinner date. “Fuck would you know about that, anyway?”
Glancing about briefly, Shindou craned his neck to see who was nearby before sliding over to the chair between himself and Katsuki. His movements were fluid and reminded Katsuki vaguely of a snake—something he needed to remind himself as the man got precariously close to his ear.
If he wasn’t careful, he would be eaten alive.
“I know quite a bit more than you think, Katsuki.” His breath was hot on the shell of the explosive hero’s ear. “Don’t get me wrong, I was real disappointed when I heard that you and Midoriya split. You seemed such like a pretty couple.” When Katsuki’s lips pinched reflexively as he tried to hide his frustration, Shindou’s pulled into a smirk. “Don’t be so shocked. Two of the fastest-rising heroes calling it quits just as they hit the big time? It was quite the bit of news…made it around to several of the inter-agency social circles. Imagine my surprise when the great savior of Japan shows up around town with none other than the crown prince himself, Shouto Todoroki?”
The light from the short pillar candles on the table cast shadows across Shindou’s already darkened pools as they roamed across his face, causing Katsuki’s legs to itch with the urge to run—he didn’t care where, he just needed to create as much space between himself and this man as possible. It was like he was sitting beside a devil who knew the darkest parts of Katsuki’s heart and took perverse pleasure in whispering their truths in his ear. The one thing Katsuki did not know was what the quake-inducing hero wanted, and that made the situation especially dangerous. He needed to figure out what the end game was, and fast.
“You don’t know shit.” Katsuki tore his gaze away, instead choosing to glare at the place setting on the table in front of him. “Didn’t take you for an office gossip, Dildo.” With the second of reprieve, he felt his legs come back to him. It gave him the confidence he needed to turn his head and glare at the man still leaning entirely too close to him. “What else do you think you know, huh?”
Shindou never so much as blinked before responding. “I know Izuku Midoriya isn’t the saint everyone seems to think he is. I know you’re not the crass bastard everyone seems to think you are.” His tone dropped, his voice thickening in a way that caused a chill to run all the way to Katsuki’s toes. “I know I’m looking at one of the most successful men in all of Japan. I know I would like to have a nice dinner with him, see what makes that brilliant mind of his turn, then take him back to my place and show him what real appreciation looks like.”
What Katsuki should have done was get up from the table, grabbed his coat, and left—maybe called Kirishima to berate him because what in the fuck was he thinking? However, Katsuki was bored. He was bored, and so fucking tired of walking around like a hurt little bitch whose favorite toy was taken from him by the rich kid who could have had anything he wanted. If he went home, all that waited for him was a quiet apartment and a night of doom scrolling through cutesy posts of the happy new fiancés (because who was he fucking kidding, of course that scar had been ripped through, the wound made fresh like he was in the shoes of the man who stood in front of that stall and had his heart torn from his chest).
However, before him was an undeniably interesting proposition from someone who, if he would permit himself to be honest for a moment, was incredibly attractive. For most people, a warm body and bed were good enough, but that was never how Katsuki operated. He needed a challenge, which was perhaps why he’d allowed Deku to worm his way under his skin in the end. No one else really came close to pushing Katsuki like he had…until now. Shindou had an intellect that wasn’t unlike Katsuki’s, and he let himself wonder what it would be like to clash against someone like that in a more private setting.
“Fine. You have my attention. Better hope those rumors don’t spread as fast as you say they do, because if you waste my fucking time, more than half of the city will know what a pathetic fuckboy you are by closing time tomorrow.”
Biting his lower lip, Shindou gave Katsuki another half-lidded look over and nodded in agreement.
“Fair enough. Let it not be said that I’m a bad date.” He quickly leaned in and gave Katsuki’s inner thigh a squeeze, causing the blonde to jump in his seat.
“What. The. Fuck?” Katsuki hissed, blood-hued irises disappearing as his blood began to heat.
“Trying to show you how serious I am, Bakugou. I know you are a very serious man yourself.” A wolfish grin spread across Shindou’s face, darkening his visage. He pushed the chair back and stood, bending over to bring his face next to Katsuki’s again, his tone a low hum. “I just want you to understand what you’re consenting to. If you let me have my way with you, you’ll be singing my praises to the whole city block.” With that, he straightened his back, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair.
Katsuki struggled to catch his breath, having seemingly forgotten how to perform even involuntary functions. His eyes tracked Shindou as he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a stack of money secured by a gaudy-looking gold money clip. Dropping a considerable amount of cash on the table, he placed the clip back into his pocket and put the jacket on, giving Katsuki’s shoulder a squeeze before passing him, likely heading towards the exit.
This was it; it was time to put up or shut up. Sure, Katsuki could always leave at any time, but he understood he was being given an opening to ghost while still saving face. In order to tell anyone he’d been stood up, Shindou would have to admit that he’d made the proposition in the first place, and that would make him the guy that Bakugou rejected. Definitely not a descriptor befitting the image the indomitable hero Grand was trying to portray. Katsuki’s leg bounced rhythmically as he quickly sorted the pros and cons of the decision before him one last time.
Fuck it. How good could the guy really be? Best case scenario, Katsuki got a good lay and could solidly say he’d put all of the Deku bullshit behind him. Worse case, he could let it slip to Pinky that the man was shit in bed and wait for the angry phone call. It wasn’t how he liked to handle things, but still…it was handy to know who to contact if he ever needed to tank anyone’s reputation without it getting back to him.
He finished his drink and stood, shooting a quick text to Kirishima in case he was actually being lured to some underground sex dungeon and he needed to be extracted. He practically shoved his ticket at the person running the coat check and made his way outside into the crisp fall air. To his confusion, Shindou was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh what, did the big talker bitch out?” he murmured to himself, looking down the street to see if he could catch a glimpse of the brunette by the nearby crosswalk.
“You really need to be more aware of your surroundings.” A hot breath hit his ear, causing him to reflexively reel back. As he spun around, the heel of his dress shoe caught on an uneven square of sidewalk, sending him toppling back towards the passing cars in the street. A hand grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him in, another arm snaking around his waist to secure him. He looked up into the dark, laughing eyes of Shindou. “Falling for me already?”
“Shut up and let me go,” Katsuki growled, trying to wrench his arm out of the amused man’s grasp. “I’m not one of the women you can just bat your pretty little eyes at and make them swoon.”
“Aw, you think I’m pretty. That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, finally wriggling free from his captor’s hold. “Don’t get too fucking excited—pretty usually means stupid, and in that case, you’re real pretty.”
Shindou appeared unbothered, simply shrugging and throwing his hands up. “What can I say? It’s a gift. Everyone must seem like an idiot when compared to your genius.”
“I’m gonna stick my foot so far up your ass—”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Bakugou. I’ll hold you to it.”
“Speaking of holding people to shit,” Katsuki continued, his expression turning sour with his increased impatience. “Last I checked, you were gonna ‘blow my mind.’ So far, I gotta say, I’m not all that impressed.”
Quirking an eyebrow, the taller male stepped forward, invading Katsuki’s space once again. He grabbed Katsuki’s wrist and tugged him along, causing the blonde to nearly stumble a second time. They walked down the block for a few seconds before Katsuki realized where they were going. With a cursive glance to check their surroundings, Shindou led him around the corner into a shadowed alleyway. Without warning, he swung Katsuki around; the explosive hero’s back hit solid brick, knocking the wind out of him.
Hands were on his belt instantly, undoing the buckle before he fully understood what was happening. His expensive, tailored slacks were down by his knees, along with his boxer briefs, by the time his brain had finally caught up with the situation.
“Hey, the hell do you—ahhh.” Katsuki’s breath was taken from him again as the brunette, now fully kneeling before him, took him in his mouth, running his tongue along the underside of the now-stunned hero’s shaft. Katsuki felt himself harden in record time, the combination of the wet heat surrounding his cock and the view of the other hero on his knees too much to resist. He tried to push the man off, but he found that his hips were securely pinned against the wall, long fingers kneading into the flesh of his thighs.
One of the hands holding his hips finally moved, grabbing his wrist and placing his hand into the soft waves of Shindou’s hair. For a moment, he was confused, as he sure as hell didn’t do anything like this at any point during his last relationship. Hell, maybe that was half the problem. Maybe he’d been too nice, too gentle, too respectful.
Well, fuck that. There was nothing to respect here. If the vibrating idiot wanted to act like a slut sucking him off in some shitty alleyway, then he was going to be treated like one. His rough fingers threaded through the almost-curls, marveling in the almost impossible silkiness of the hair fibers, before he curled his fingers and pulled, wrenching the man’s head back. Chocolate irises looked up at him, nearly consumed by the blown-out pupils from arousal. Shindou gave a quiet whine, seeming to enjoy the sensation of having his face used as a cock-warmer. Rolling his hips forward, Katsuki thrust into the wet confines of Shindou’s mouth, taking pleasure in the way tears started to collect in the corners of his eyes.
Suddenly, Katsuki felt himself hit the back of Shindou’s throat, the muscles of the hero’s mouth constructing as he gave one last hard suck. White flooded Katsuki’s vision as he came hard, his fingers still wrapped around fistfuls of hair. He tried to pull back, but hands were once again on his hips, holding him fast—probably the only thing keeping his knees from buckling out from under him. Shocks of over-stimulation hit him as Shindou swallowed his seed, tongue wrapping around the softening cock, licking him clean.
Shindou pulled off his slowly wilting erection with a lewd pop, his tongue darting out across his lips. He carefully pulled Katsuki’s underwear back up, tucking him away with a surprisingly delicate touch. He tugged the slacks back up around Katsuki’s waist and secured the belt again, his expression neutral, as if nothing had happened. He turned and walked towards the street. Katsuki made to follow him a few steps behind—partially because he didn’t want anyone seeing them emerge from a darkened alley together, partially because his legs were still half-gelatin from the embarrassingly good head he’d just received.
Just as they reached the sidewalk, Shindou turned to Katsuki, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Ohhh you said ‘mind.’ Just realized that. Tuned out halfway, I guess.”
Gritting his teeth, Katsuki punched his companion in the arm. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”
A loud, full-throated laugh erupted from Shindou. Lines formed around his eyes and mouth, giving his face a strangely youthful and carefree expression. It reminded Katsuki of…other moments in his life, a pang in his heart telling him that it wouldn’t be so easy to simply forget.
“Hey.”
Katsuki looked up, not realizing his head had bowed. Shindou’s brow was furrowed in uncharacteristic concern, his hand hanging in the air between them as if he had started to reach out, but hesitated. It pissed the explosive hero off to no end.
“Fuck off, you Richter scale reject—”
“My place isn’t far. Let’s go.” Shindou’s mouth was firmly set in a thin line, his countenance unreadable once again. He stalked down the sidewalk, paying little attention to whether Katsuki was following.
For a second, the thought that Katsuki should go home floated to the surface of his mind. If anything, their little…whatever the fuck that was…proved that he had no business fucking around with other people. Still, an unanswered question kept nagging at him: what was Shindou’s deal? They’d had a few brief encounters during high school—the provisional hero license exam, joint training sessions—and their exchanges were always terse and unremarkable. Yet, when Shindou spoke of him, it sounded like there was more to his interest than simply getting under Katsuki’s skin for the hell of it.
It was with that curiosity in mind that Katsuki’s legs carried him from the alleyway to Shindou’s apartment, where the brunette wordlessly unlocked his front door and stepped inside. The walk over had been completely silent, with not so much as a snippy comment between them. He waited for a brief moment to see if the man would yell at him to get inside, but nothing came, Finally, Katsuki stepped inside, surprised to find a fairly clean, modern-looking apartment. Their décor tastes seemed similar, as there wasn’t a lot of unnecessary clutter on the walls or the surfaces. The apartment was dark, save for the light that came from the far wall, which was comprised of several floor-to-ceiling windows. The warm glow of the lights from the city cast soft shadows across the floor. Katsuki took a second to admire the view, impressed that someone at Shindou’s rank could afford such a nice place.
“The brand sponsorships go a long way,” Shindou said, as if reading Katsuki’s mind
Katsuki spun around, eyes barely making out the outline of his date on the sofa at the other end of the room. He attributed the increase in his heart rate to the sudden noise, and not because the sight before him was incredibly fucking creepy.
“Why are we sitting in the damn dark?” Katsuki hissed. “You spend all your modeling money on this place and forget to buy a fucking light bulb? You’re about as bright as this room.”
Shindou heaved a heavy sigh. “Get over here, Bakugou.”
“I don’t recall signing anything that said you were my fucking boss—”
“Come. Here.” The bass in Shindou’s voice reverberated throughout the room in a way that didn’t entirely make sense. It suddenly occurred to Katsuki that the tremor-inclined hero’s apartment had likely been modified to withstand any potential misfires of his quirk. As he approached, he saw the intense look on the man’s face more clearly. There was anger there, but more distinctly, want. Heat pooled in his belly and he seemed to glide the rest of the distance, coming to a stop in front of his companion.
“Well?” Katsuki’s voice felt thick, his tongue heavy in his mouth.
Shindou clapped his hand down on his leg. “Sit.”
Any other time, in any other place, Katsuki would have told him where he could go sit. However, in this moment, the pull he felt was too intense to ignore. In the back of his mind, he thought maybe it would be nice to just let go for a while. He was never much of a “go with the flow” kind of guy, but he wasn’t particularly interested in fighting this current. He nudged the taller man’s knee with his, motioning for him to bring his legs closer together. Once Shindou was in position, Katsuki climbed into his lap, facing him with knees on both sides of his legs.
Gripping Katsuki’s jaw with bruising force, Shindou brought the higher-ranked hero’s lips to his, tongue passing between them with little resistance. As they kissed languidly, deft fingers began to undo the buttons on Katsuki’s dress shirt, hands pulling at his undershirt and sliding beneath the fabric to run up his chiseled abs. He sucked in a harsh breath as Shindou’s rough thumbs brushed across his nipples, embarrassed to find that his nerve endings were on fire just from the brief contact.
Shindou’s head dipped into the juncture where Katsuki’s neck met his shoulder, leaving blooming marks in his wake. He bucked his hips, creating torturous friction between their straining erections. Katsuki ground his hips down in response, chasing the feeling that was almost-but-not-quite enough. Spurred on by the urgency of blood rushing to his dick, Katsuki clumsily pulled at the buttons on Shindou’s shirt, finding it difficult to remove the article of clothing from his position.
“Damn…fucking…stupid-ass…shirt…” he cursed under his breath.
“Fuck the shirt,” Shindou panted against the side of Katsuki’s neck.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck okay.” The impatient blonde grabbed the opening of the shirt and pulled, causing buttons to pop off and fly in all directions. He shrugged his own dress shirt off his shoulders, pulling his undershirt over his head and throwing it to the side.
“Wow,” Shindou breathed, dark eyes darting over the expanse of newly-revealed skin.
Smirk forming in the corner of his mouth, Katsuki slid off the impressed man’s lap. He unbuckled his belt and began to pull at the clasp on the front of his pants, but was stopped when Shindou leaned forward and covered his hands with his own.
Katsuki shot him an incredulous glare. “What, you backing out?”
Shindou shook his head. “Not in the plans. I’m just wondering if you really want to do this out here. The thought of fucking you stupid on the sofa is a tempting one, but I have a very large and extremely comfortable bed in the back bedroom that might be preferable.”
“I suppose…wait, what do you mean ‘fucking you’?”
“Did I stutter?” After receiving a withering look in response, surprise slowly dawned on Shindou’s face. “You’ve never bottomed. I genuinely do not know why that never occurred to me. Of course the great Katsuki Bakugou would never relinquish control of anything, even if it might feel good.” His lips curled up as his eyes raked over Katsuki’s half-naked form.
“Fuck you.” Katsuki crossed his arms, suddenly feeling very exposed. Heat flooded his face and it became difficult for him to make eye contact. Blowing a hole in the door and fleeing shirtless into the night became an increasingly tangible option the longer he stood there.
“Nope, that’s not part of the deal. I believe I specifically said I’d have my way with you. That’s what you agreed to.”
“Yeah, but then you sucked me off in an alleyway. Did that not count as ‘your way,’ or did I miss something?”
Shindou shrugged nonchalantly, as if the act had been something as innocuous as going to the grocery store. “Consider that one a trial offer, let you know what you could look forward to if you bought into the full package.” He stood from the sofa, letting his now-buttonless shirt fall off his shoulders. Stepping over to his prospective lover, Shindou reached up and ran his thumb over Katsuki’s lower lip, smirking as the blonde’s eyelids fluttered closed.
“I don’t know,” Katsuki muttered. “I haven’t…”
“Let me show you something different,” Shindou uttered, leaning next to Katsuki’s ear. “I can almost guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”
“I…”
Exhaling heavily, Shindou turned away, pacing the length of his living room. “I’m gonna level with you, man. I don’t particularly care about your damn hang-ups. Everyone has them. It’s not exactly attractive that you’re still pining after the guy that treated you like shit like some empty-headed teenage girl, but that’s fine. I figure I can work with that over time.” He stopped in front of Katsuki, gripping the sides of his jaw with the same crushing force as earlier, earning him a scowl in response. “What I’m not gonna do is let you is use me as a placeholder. I’ve done a lot of low shit in my life to get where I am, but I’m drawing the line at that. Not from you.”
Katsuki’s ruby orbs narrowed suspiciously. It was just as he thought. There was something else going on here.
“What’s your fucking hang-up, Shake Weight? We’ve talked less than a handful of times, and I don’t remember ever having a single nice word to say about your two-faced ass. So, what’s your deal with me? Why does it feel like you knew about this little set up from the jump?”
The briefest flicker of recognition passed over Shindou’s face as he dropped his hands and took a step back. It was a mere second, but Katsuki had learned to watch for these things. He was damned if he was going to let someone else do to him what Deku, the world’s shittiest liar, had somehow done all-too-easily. This fucking idiot was sweet on him. For how long, it was hard to say, but he ventured to guess it was at least a while.
“Huh. No shit.”
“It doesn’t have to be a thing,” Shindou shrugged. “I suspected Kirishima might have failed to mention who you were going to dinner with when you showed up and looked like I’d just murdered your grandmother in front of you. Most people aren’t that kind of sadist.” He rolled his head from side-to-side thoughtfully. “Although…with you…it’s hard telling…”
“Haha, fucking hilarious,” Katsuki said, waving his arm dismissively. “The question I have is why?”
“I already told you earlier, remember?” The same unreadable expression from before returned, and it was starting to chap Katsuki’s ass.
“Huh, I thought you were blowing smoke.”
“I save my blowing for dingy alleys in the entertainment district, as you are now well aware.”
“Quit skirting around this shit,” Katsuki spat. “Just be straight with me.”
“Couldn’t if I tried. Your body might be made of actual marble and all I want to do is chisel at you until you’re a sobbing mess on my dick.” As Katsuki nearly swallowed his own tongue from embarrassment, Shindou’s mask cracked, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you wanted honesty. Not my fault you walked into that one.” He looked off towards the windows, his smile turning wistful. “Like I said, it doesn’t have to be a thing. I figured it was a long shot in the first place. If you want like…a hang-and-bang arrangement, that’s fine.”
It was Katsuki’s turn to shake his head. “That’s not really my thing. I don’t usually…”
“Me neither.” Shindou frowned when Katsuki looked at him in surprise. “Seriously! What kind of person do you take me for?”
“A dishonest pain in the ass with an ulterior motive for each day of the fucking week.”
“Fair. Rude, but fair.”
Katsuki scratched the back of his neck. At this point, they were at a junction. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of submitting to such an arrogant bastard now that the heat had died down (and honestly, the asshole could be fucking with him to get him into bed, for all he knew), he couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind. Still, if he was going to bend over for anyone, he was getting an answer first.
“Suppose I do agree,” he said slowly. “What’s your problem? You have some kind of religious opposition to taking it in the ass or something?”
Shindou scoffed. “If you’re asking if I have a superiority complex like you, sorry, but no.”
“So why—”
“You’re not fucking me like you fucked him. I don’t want you behind me, replacing my face in your mind with his.” His tone was cold, his dark features striking against his pale skin in the glow of the city lights shining through the windows. “…Not like it’s really that hard to begin with. I get enough of that shit at work as is. People in the street run up to me like ‘Deku! Deku!’ Don’t these simpletons realize I’m a whole-ass hand span taller than him? Also, our hair color is completely different, not to mention that I am so much better-looking.” He turned his face away from Katsuki, his voice dropping in volume, just barely loud enough for the blonde to hear. “I honestly didn’t give a shit before, but now that I know you haven’t… I want you to know who is touching you. I want you to be able to set it apart.”
Katsuki’s mouth ran dry. “Oh.”
That explained a lot, actually. The petty part of Katsuki wanted to ask, “are you sure about that complex?” Clearly, the guy had similar issues to him, but their identity crises were obviously different. Shindou was tired of being associated with Deku, like Katsuki, but the brunette’s was more an issue of mistaken identity. Katsuki didn’t have that kind of self-assured certainty.
He still didn’t know who he was without Deku.
“He’s getting married.” The words spilled out in a rush, like they’d been dying to escape the confines of his aching chest. “I’ll probably be invited.”
Shindou looked at him with surprise, then incredulity. “Why?”
“I imagine that’s what people who like each other do. Shit, I don’t know,” Katsuki answered, shrugging.
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Shindou shook his head. “No, ugh…I meant, why would you be invited?”
“We grew up together. Also, he’s an idiot.” Katsuki leaned against the nearby wall, resting the back of his head against the cool, reinforced drywall. It felt so weird to say it to someone, especially someone he barely knew, right after they’d been grinding up against each other. A wicked thought occurred to him, and before he could second-guess himself or come to his better senses, he blurted, “Wanna go with me?”
“Seriously?”
“It’ll probably suck, but it’ll be better to sit with someone who hates him almost as much as I do. That, and it’ll get Kirishima off my case. Otherwise, he’ll sit there all night and make sad pity faces at me, and then I’ll have to blast his face off.”
Planting on the wall on both sides of Katsuki’s head, the confident Shindou reappeared. The corner of his mouth ticked up in that stupid smirk that was starting to really do things to Katsuki.
“Wow, haven’t even shown you everything I can do, and you’re already asking for a second date?”
Scratch that, You Shindou was an arrogant motherfucker that could burn in hell. Under other circumstances, Katsuki would have challenged him to really put his money where his mouth was, but having already seen exactly where his mouth was, the explosive hero was at a disadvantage. So, he did the only thing he could do: he threw caution to the wind and doubled-down.
Katsuki’s lips stretched into a sharp grin. “Let’s see how good you are, and then we’ll talk about it.”
Seconds later, their mouths crashed together, Shindou’s body pinning Katsuki’s against the wall. The taller male grabbed Katsuki’s hips, hitching his legs up so that they wrapped around Shindou’s torso. Strong hands kneaded Katsuki’s ass through his tight slacks, his growing erection struggling against the unforgiving fabric. Shindou’s teeth scraped against Katsuki’s pulse in his neck, sucking and biting along his collarbone as he pushed him further up the wall.
Katsuki’s mind was hazy, every cell screaming for relief from the tension building in his gut. His breath caught as Shindou’s tongue circled one of his nipples; he clamped his jaw shut to avoid the noise slipping out, but a high-pitched sound still managed to escape.
Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, Shindou repeated the motion, following it with a flick of his thumb across the swollen bud. Katsuki threw his head back so quickly he thought he might have cracked something. He swore under his heaving breath, but it only served to encourage the other man.
Finally, he snapped. “Are you gonna fuck me, or are you gonna fuck around? Which is it, hah?”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Shindou said, his tone like honey on his tongue. “Don’t. You. Move.” Kissing the tip of the blonde’s nose with every word, he gingerly set Katsuki down on his feet before disappearing down the hall into the one of the rooms.
Stuck between glad for a moment to breathe and impatient with waiting, Katsuki could only stand there, tapping his foot against the hardwood floor. Walking over to the large windows again, he stared out at the night sky, wondering what kind of shit he’d gotten himself into. He caught a glance of his reflection in the glass and it gave him pause. He already looked thoroughly wrecked, several welts and bruises beginning to show on his throat and chest. Thank fuck it was starting to get cold and no one would question if he wore his winter costume.
No one but Kirishima, anyway, and he was already a dead man.
“There you are,” Shindou hummed, wrapping his arms around Katsuki’s midsection and feathering kisses across his shoulder. “What are you doing over here? Not sure getting railed against a window is the best PR for either of us, but I’m not opposed to the idea if you’re not.”
Katsuki’s face heated, a deep blush staining his cheeks. The idea of even holding hands in public was mortifying; so why did he suddenly not hate the idea of being taken against the glass when anyone could walk by and see?
“Don’t be stupid.” His voice came out broken and scratchy. Feeling Shindou’s smile grow against his skin, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sink into the floor.
“Got it, no window…this time…”
“Ha, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Shindou spun Katsuki around, guiding him to the sofa and pushing him onto it. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He set to undoing the front of the form-fitting slacks, tugging them off Katsuki’s legs and draping them over the back of a nearby chair.
“Thought we weren’t doing this on your sofa,” Katsuki mused, staring up at the room’s smooth white ceiling.
“We’re not.” Shindou pulled Katsuki to his feet, dragging him back to their previous position against the wall.
Katsuki looked down, noting that Shindou’s own slacks were also absent. He tried to think about anything other than the way the man’s trunks stretched across the defined muscles of his powerful-looking thighs, or the sizable distinct outline in the front. He failed.
Following Katsuki’s heated gaze, Shindou bit his lip and slid his thumbs beneath the elastic waistband of his undergarment. “Sorry, let me just get these out of the way.” Before Katsuki could say anything further, he pulled his trunks down, kicking the offending article of clothing out of the way. His thick, weeping erection hung between his legs, turning Katsuki’s chest into a kick drum.
And Katsuki was supposed to fit that monster inside of him? Fuck.
As if reading the signs of anxiety like a picture in a book, Shindou cupped the side of Katsuki’s face, running the pad of his thumb across Katsuki’s swollen lower lip. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Just relax.” He knelt down, pulling the boxer briefs off Katsuki’s hips, tossing them to the side with his own.
Katsuki gasps as the swollen head of his erection caught on his waistband, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. His member ached with need, despite already having been serviced once that night. He jumped as Shindou leaned forward, licking the drops of pre-cum from the head with the tip of his tongue.
Chocolate eyes looked up at him through thick, dark lashes. “Turn around for me, sexy. Place your palms on the wall, and don’t worry about the burn marks.”
“Huh…?” Katsuki blinked through his confusion as he complied, turning and splaying his fingers across the cool, white surface. Soon, he understood what Shindou had meant, his quirk activating in his palms and sending tiny sparks into the wall as Shindou’s hot, wet tongue laved a stripe across his exposed hole.
Shindou gave his ass a gentle slap. “Need you to relax back here, Katsuki.”
Katsuki scowled, his annoyance flaring. A quiet plastic snapping sound came from behind him. “You can’t just fucking do shit without warni-ahhh…” A thick, lube-coated finger circled his puckered entrance, slipping just past the initial ring of muscle. It probed about like an unwanted intruder, causing Katsuki to clench uncomfortably.
“I’m telling you, you have got to ease up,” Shindou soothed. “I think you’ll find that you enjoy it more when—oh hello, there we go.”
Before Katsuki could ask how he was supposed to “relax” with a hand in his ass, he felt an electric tingling sensation shoot from his pelvis to his toes. His knees weakened, and he almost came right on the spot.
“What the…”
“That’s more like it,” Shindou hummed in approval, slipping a second finger in and beginning the process of stretching him out. “There you go. You’re doing so good, baby.” He activated his own quirk, relishing in the effect he had as his vibrating fingers moved inside the usually-abrasive hero.
Katsuki’s fingers helplessly scratched against the wall, grabbing at air. The pressure building in his core each time one of Shindou’s quivering fingers stroked against the tiny bundle of nerves was almost too much, intense pleasure washing over him in waves. He smacked his forehead against the wall repeatedly as a third finger was added. He wanted to reach between his legs and tend to his neglected erection, but he didn’t want Shindou to stop his ministrations. His hips bucked forward, trying to create whatever friction he could against the smooth drywall.
“I think you’re about ready.”
Nearly crying as the fingers were slowly removed, Katsuki’s hole clamped desperately at nothing. The clicking noise sounded again, accompanied by a wet slick sound as Shindou coated his own erection in lubricant.
Shindou leaned in, kissing the side of Katsuki’s neck. “This is going to be a bit different, but I think you can handle it. I’m going to need you to trust me, though. Can you do that?”
Lust-addled brain barely intact, Katsuki could only nod mutely, willing to do just about anything he was asked at that point. In the back of his mind, what was left of his logical processes calculated the likelihood that he would hate himself later, but it was quickly shut down by Katsuki’s lizard brain, whose only focus was to chase the pleasure he’d felt moments before.
“I’m just gonna need you to hold on for a couple minutes, okay? Lean your back against the wall for me.” Turning Katsuki around, Shindou took the blonde’s arms and brought them around his broad shoulders. Katsuki linked his fingers as Shindou crouched slightly, hooking his arms under Katsuki’s knees and lifting him against the wall.
Clinging to Shindou’s shoulders, Katsuki could only guess what came next, his assumptions proving correct as he felt the head of Shindou’s member line up with his entrance. He hissed, feeling himself stretch as he was slowly lowered into Shindou’s throbbing cock millimeters at a time. His heart beat heavily in his chest, made all the more prominent by his held breath.
“Breathe, Katsuki…almost there…” Shindou uttered, his own voice strained.
Katsuki took a deep breath that turned into a strangled sob as he finally bottomed out, his sounds accompanied by a low groan from Shindou.
“How are we doing, good?”
“Fuck you,” Katsuki wheezed, hating how wrecked he already sounded. “Don’t go turning into a good guy on me now.”
“I think you’ll discover I’m actually a really great guy when I want to be,” Shindou teased, giving a gentle bounce to push his head against Katsuki’s prostate.
“Like hell!”
“Good, we’re ready to move.” Shindou pulled back slowly, only to push in again a second time, this time with a bit more force. The sensation knocked the air from Katsuki’s lungs.
“FFFFFFuuuuccckkk,” he groaned. This was going to kill him. This was how the great hero Dynamight fell, being used as a cocksleeve.
Gyrating his hips slowly, Shindou began fucking up into Katsuki in earnest, gripping the explosive hero’s thighs hard enough to bruise. His mouth roamed across Katsuki’s jaw and throat, nipping and sucking as he went along. Stifled sounds pulled from Katsuki’s throat, his head resting against the wall as he struggled to hold the last threads of his composure.
“Let it out, gorgeous,” Shindou cooed. “I want to hear you.”
The last of Katsuki’s resistance was slipping, held together only by pride and spite. However, as his sweet spot was continuously abused, he found it harder to focus. In that dimly-lit room, with only Shindou to witness his embarrassment, he let himself let go, consequences be damned.
“Harder, you fuck,” he rasped, his fingernails raking dark scratches across the other hero’s back.
Shindou’s expression darkened, his eyes burning with an intensity Katsuki immediately recognized. Shindou had taken it as a challenge. Pausing his motions, he adjusted his footing, pushing Katsuki higher up on the wall as he lifted him up.
“Remember that you asked for this.” He dropped Katsuki down, slamming into him hard. Katsuki swore he saw stars, but he didn’t have time to question it, as Shindou began bouncing him in time with his thrusts, using gravity to deliver additional force to Katsuki’s already-abused hole.
Gulping for air, Katsuki’s breaths were ragged, punctuated by broken sobs and pleas. He wasn’t going to last much longer; his nerves were lit up, synapses firing from one place to everywhere and nowhere.
“God, fuck, Ka-Katsuki, you’re so fucking tight,” Shindou gasped, leaving sloppy kisses along Katsuki’s mouth and jaw. His forehead rested against Katsuki, his expression soft as their eyes met. “Can I?”
There was no hesitation as Katsuki nodded weakly. He was willing to give anything he was asked for in that moment.If Shindou wanted his number, it practically in his phone already. If he wanted to hold hands, or fuck against windows, Katsuki didn’t give a damn. This had to be what was meant when he’d heard the phrase “dick stupid.” He felt Shindou’s head flare inside of him, followed by a warm sensation as Shindou came with a shout. Reaching between them, Katsuki stroked his long-neglected member, hot ropes shooting from the tip after a few tugs. His mouth hung open in a silent scream as he came,coating their chests and sapping his muscles of any strength he had left.
Carefully easing out of Katsuki, Shindou gently lowered him down the wall, rolling onto his back and holding the exhausted blonde to his chest.
“Ugh, so gross,” Katsuki complained, reaching for his discarded underwear and wiping the mess from his stomach.
“Not as gross as that, what are you doing? Now you don’t have any clean underwear.”
“Fuck it, I’ll go commando.”
Shindou sighed in resignation, waiting until Katsuki was sufficiently cleaned off to pull him back into his arms.
Too exhausted to physically resist, Katsuki yielded, resting his head against the man’s broad chest. It was warm. He was bothered slightly about how much he didn’t hate it.
“Hope you don’t plan on making this cuddling shit a habit,” he grumbled.
“Shut the fuck up, Bakugou,” Shindou muttered, gently pinching Katsuki’s side. “I just did what equated to three leg days. You shut your hateful face and let me have this. Besides, you can’t bolt on me if I’ve got your ass in a headlock.”
Katsuki laughed, in spite of himself, his eyelids drooping under the weight of his fatigue. “We’re not seriously passing out on the floor, are we?”
Shindou glanced up towards the sofa weakly, idly combing his fingers through blonde spikes. “Well, unless you can get up and drag my ass about ten feet that way, I’m gonna say yes. We are probably passing out on the floor.”
Groaning, Katsuki shifted to get more comfortable. “Fuck it. I’ve slept in worse. Short nap, then long shower.”
A light chuckle rumbled through Shindou’s chest. “Sounds good. I’ll help you out. Trust me when I say you’re going to need it.”
They laid in silence, Katsuki listening to Shindou’s heart beat steadily in his chest. As clarity returned to him, insecurity started to creep in. He’d left himself exposed; what if this was just the beginning of Shindou’s plan to humiliate him? He obviously already knew about one of Katsuki’s major vulnerabilities when it came to his previous relationship. What’s to say he wasn’t using that to get Katsuki to drop his guard?
Finally, Shindou spoke, his words slow and hesitant. “So, uh…not to ask for a performance appraisal so quickly, but…you still want me as your plus one to the wedding of the year?”
Fucking hell, Katsuki had been an idiot. The man had let Katsuki into his home, been patient, open, and even vulnerable at times, and all Katsuki could think of was ways in which he was possibly getting fucked over. He obviously had a lot of work to do, still.
“Definitely,” he said quietly. “Don’t blame me if it’s lame, though. I’m also going to be a messy date. I hate weddings. Fair warning.”
Shindou laughed, ruffling Katsuki’s hair. “That’s fine. I can always carry you out if you get trashed. Might even let you keep your pants on this time.”
Katsuki blushed, memories of the evening running through his mind.
“It’s probably going to be somewhere really nice. I should buy a new suit,” Shindou continued, seemingly ignoring the fact that he hadn’t received any resistance to his teasing. “Is there a color rule on suits at weddings? I’ll have to look that up.”
Crimson orbs rolled around in Katsuki’s head. Leave it to the King of Appearances to care about shit like that. He didn’t give a damn about etiquette or dress codes. If anything, it would be just as stuffy and obnoxious as the ranking ceremonies, but with the added annoyance of flowers everywhere.
A light bulb went off in his brain, and his lips curled into an evil smile.
“All I can say is, wherever it is, I hope they have spacious bathroom stalls,” he hummed, fingertips idly drawing circles into Shindou’s chest.
“Why?”
“…No reason.”