Fuck You, Pay Me!

20. A Little Birdie Once Told Me

A/N: it's been like 50 years since this was uodated. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy.

"I told you ten minutes, you absolute fucking brat."

Hitoshi offers his father little more than a grunt and an exhausted shrug of his shoulders as he comes meandering out of the club's back door, a dripping crowbar in one blood-soaked hand. He doesn't seem any worse for wear, at least—though he could probably stand to get a few hours of decent sleep.

"Ten minutes wasn't enough time to distribute proper atonement and retribution. Shoving the length of this crowbar up his ass took a considerable amount of time."

"That's disgusting." Katsuki grimaces.

"You're telling me. Whoever has to clean up that mess come morning is gonna be incredibly pissed." The mercenary snickers to himself, haphazardly tossing the soiled crowbar into the nearby dumpster. "I think we can call it quits for the night. I don't like that we used Katsuki as bait to get it done but the objective has been completed."

Katsuki sighs, still wrapped in the robe that Shota had gifted him but otherwise still very naked and beginning to get very cold.

"You're really not gonna admit that I did an amazing job tonight? Not even a high five?"

"Nope."

"Tch. Fucking why not? I did literally everything right, why are you being so pissy?"

"Because, my innocent little kitten," the older man begins matter-of-factly. "I have told you once before that I didn't want you getting involved in all of this from the jump. If I let you believe that what you did tonight was okay at all, then you'll wanna tag your little ass along for all of my other jobs. The goal is to be able to quit, not to drag you into it." He pokes Katsuki's forehead with his clean hand, fully expecting the annoyed huff that he receives in response. "I'm thankful that things worked out because you helped. It means that we can get this over with a lot faster—which I'm looking forward to. But I don't like the idea of you getting corrupted by all of this. And I sure as shit don't want you in any position to be badly injured or killed."

"I'm a stripper, Hitoshi. I get naked and dance on horny men's laps for a living. Why do you insist on treating me like a baby?"

"Because you are a baby. My baby. And bouncing your little tatas around is nowhere near the equivalent of murdering people for sometimes no reason at all."

"But—"

"I said no. I'm not gonna repeat myself again and this isn't up for discussion. You understand?" Hitoshi snaps tightly, eyes narrowed down at Katsuki in a way that one might reprimand a pouting child. It's obvious the conversation is starting to piss him off but Katsuki can't help but feel a little bit…

...tingly…

When his lover speaks to him that way. He gazes up into those irate eyes, though Hitoshi's lips do a grand job at catching his interest instead. He just stands there, jaw slightly agape as Hitoshi stares down at him.

Katsuki doesn't answer right away and it only seems to fuel Hitoshi's mild irritation. Much to Katsuki's surprise, however, he doesn't yell or scream or grab and shake him like Izuku might do when he's angry. Instead, he gently reaches out to take Katsuki's jaw in the calloused tips of his fingers to redirect Katsuki's gaze. He's not glaring or scowling when their eyes meet, but it's fairly easy to tell that he's exasperated with him.

"I asked you a question, baby. Do you understand?"

Katsuki nods dumbly and Hitoshi's grip tightens to a light squeeze.