Written by: Anonymous
Summary:
In Izuku's honest experience, it's the shadiest place he's ever been to.
There are strip clubs stacked on either side of this narrow building and the smell of something like burnt rubber which Ochako had dubbed as a description similar to crack, permeates through the air. A few frequenters are sitting on the stairs nearby, drunk and gambling, when the blond is seen losing, he jokes a threat with a pocket knife.
They notice him when Izuku is potentially debating to tuck tail and run.
"Mina-chan! There's some creep here stalking your Minnie."
______________________________
For a time as long as the duration of his working position in The Tadaima, Ochako has always made it a point to religiously remind Izuku that he had a peculiar tendency of getting roped into situations which could be easily avoided if he only knew how to say No.
And this, Izuku drolls, his sneakers scratch against the floor, is exhibit A.
"Mina-san, it's honestly not a problem."
"Nonsense. This room might be a little across your alley but it'll be just fine for a night."
Izuku half-thinks this is only his rotten luck, half-blames that this might have been his adopted father's fault. He was coming back from a trek on Mount Sugisuna of the west, owing to his next Travel Blog series that he'll have to update under the journalist edition. Izuku, though a bit of a hazard to no one but himself, tends to keep an itinerary and planning everything to the little details.
He's been accused of being too nit-picky by his relatives and mother but it's what keeps him happy and it's been a long while since anyone could make him uncomfortable by what he's comfortable with.
He had hoped that after coming back from the Trek, he could quickly get back home to spend some quiet time for the remainder of his holidays but here he is, in this little town a little far from the lower foothills of Mount Sugisuna.
It's a relatively thriving town, urban-esque enough to be mistaken for some lingering tail of a commercial city. He's really only here because sleep Izuku has no time sense without an alarm and his alarm bailed out on him causing him to miss the train. Now, he has no place to crash because the Hotels were either booked or pushed his wallet like he's in the top 1 per cent which he most definitely and regretfully, is not.
Distantly, he remembers his father telling him of a friend he made a little over the mid-western side of this town and decides to ring his father up for help. Toshinori Yagi, of course, is drunk because he is out with his group of associates, happily passing the number and address to him as Izuku insists that he should book a ride home soon.
Three minutes of coaxing his father and a taxi ride later, he finds himself standing in front of an establishment that makes him double-check the address he's been given.
In Izuku's honest experience, it's the shadiest place he's ever been to. There are strip clubs stacked on either side of this narrow building and the smell of something like burnt rubber which Ochako had dubbed as a description similar to crack smoke, permeates through the air. A few frequenters are sitting on the stairs nearby, drunk and gambling, when the blond is seen losing, he jokes a threat with a pocket knife.
They notice him when Izuku is debating to tuck tail and run.
"Mina-chan! There's some creep here stalking your Minnie."
It takes a long while for Izuku to realize that the building is named 'Minnie' and an embarrassingly longer time to understand he's the creep mentioned. By then, it's too late, a woman with a pink dye job steps out, staring him up and down. So of course, he launches into an explanation, "I was, uh, looking for a place to stay and was told by my adopted father who seems to be a friend of yours," the last part comes out more as a question.
He continues, "And I think I was mistaken, I apologize for the disturbance, I'll leave."
Just as he's made up his mind to spend the night awake on some park bench and sleep through the train ride in the morning, he's held back by the shoulder.
"What's your father's name?"
"Eh, uh, Toshinori Yagi."
The pink-haired woman keeps blankly staring at him before he sees a light bulb go off in her head and recognition flashed through her eyes.
"OH!" She claps her hands together before pulling him into a hug. "You're Yagi sensei's boy!"
She smells like candle bath soap, a cheap vanilla latte, and whatever it is she had for lunch that tastes sweet and fruity in his mouth, he nods, trying to figure out what forlorn adventure did his father have in these parts to have met the lady in front of him.
"I met Yagi-sensei in a drinking competition nearby."
Oh, okay, that explains some.
"Your father is a beer monster," she enlightens him, "I think he scored the fourth place that night."
Izuku smiles in utter discomfort, a common attribute to his life, he listens to Mina gushing out on his father's alcohol victories across the town. By the end of it, she introduces herself as Mina Ashido ('But oh, please call me Mina!' she says with a bright smile) and is more than happy to lend him a room for the night.
"But we're kinda full now—"
"It's okay," Izuku perks up with a smile, "I'll be just on my way then, please—"
"Now, wait for a second, how many nights did you want it for?"
"Ah, just one, tonight that is but seriously, if it's a problem then I can always—"
"Share a room," completes Mina enthusiastically as Izuku's smile suffers a dent, sharing? He hasn't done that since soccer camp, and it's been a while since that. "I think room no. 49 is living alone and he has quite someplace to himself."
Izuku swallows hard, "I'm not sure if that would be comfortable."
"He'll be just fine with you, ecstatic if not," Mina assures, forcefully taking his arm. "well, good luck with that," the blond man who had accused him of being a creep, laughs, whispering to the red-haired gambler beside him.
Walking into the building, he ignores the chipped-off hallways or the leaking taps, tries to tell himself that this is not the game setting of a typical hotel run over by Zombie Apocalypse. That just reinforces the image that this place seems exactly like that. They pass over a hallway, it's off a dark end, cigarette butts with some sharp steel-like things attached to tubes scattered around leading to it. There's a riot of sounds emerging from it with a stronger vein to that burnt rubber smell, it doesn't make him feel any better in the predicament he's landed himself in.
Well, he thinks passively, whosoever's fault this is, I'm stuck with it now, and had no choice better than sucking it up for a while.
It's only a night after all.
They arrive at a place significantly cleaner but Izuku recalls that the bar is set low enough to walk over it so he doesn't count it for much. They stand in front of a blue door with the words 'Keep the fuck out or die.' stamped against the wooden surface, above which the number 49 is printed in rusted red.
Oh, Izuku says the confines of his mind, that's reassuring.
With some experienced courage, Mina fists her hand and straight-up bangs the door with the almost effort to break through it.
"Katsuki Bakugou, open up!"
"Fuck off! I'm busy, raccoon eyes!"
"So am I, and unless you want me to evict your sorry, ungrateful— oh hello there, Bakugou." She says in a shifting tone when the door slams open.
On the other side, an angry male blonde who Izuku assumes is Katsuki Bakugou, half-naked in track pants with a solid grip on the door. In fact, the only thing that might be keeping him from attacking Mina might be the fact that she's his landlady and that there's a witness.
"What the fuck, raccoon eyes?" The man growls, and the rage ripples off his muscles.
"You have a roommate for the night." She tells him before Izuku can stop her and suddenly, he becomes the object of seething rage like this is his fault. What the hell? He didn't even do anything.
"The fuck are you playing at—"
"I'll cut you slack for your rent payment this month by two weeks."
Anger only slightly leaves the man, the offer seems to be a good one but if that's the case then, Izuku would be staying with this man uncomfortably close to resembling a homicidal criminal.
"Fine," he hears him utter out before Bakugou looks over his shoulder. "Oi, get out of here."
A whine sounds and Izuku's cheeks burn in the little modesty he can preserve of interrupting someone from their time together. Out walks a girl with pretty hair and a fine, faux-fur coat wrapped around her, the stutter in her walk doesn't escape anyone present, to distract himself from which, Izuku chuckles nervously.
"Still, Mina-san, I really think I should leave because—"
"Oh come on, didn't I tell you? Bakugou's ecstatic to have you here."
Izuku takes one glance and decides that really is the wrong word to describe the man there.
"It's only one night, right?" The blond glares at them and Mina nods with a chirp. A hand grabs Izuku's backpack and with no ceremony whatsoever, drags it, inadvertently causing Izuku to slip back, almost tripping over the sill.
"Then, fuck off." He slams the door close and Izuku eyes the screws holding that piece of wood, wondering if this was a regular occurrence for the poor door.
"Bakugou! Don't be mean to him, he's a nice guest, treat him well or I'll reduce your delay by a week!"
It takes a second but a click of heels walking down is heard. Izuku slowly stands to his feet, moving back against the door that creaks, he faces the blond-haired man with who he really, really wanted nothing to do with.
"Hello, Bakugou-san, umm, you don't have to necessarily house me—"
"Call me Bakugou, and if raccoon eyes promised it then I'm gonna act my due out—"
"Ah," Izuku says, "but I'm not exactly your due."
"Ha?! What was that?"
Izuku stares into the space above Bakugou's shoulder which is a random painting of some river because it's much less antagonizing than its owner. Complacently, he simply nods, earning a 'yeah, that's what I thought' grumble from the man. The room is clean and nice, Italian marble and all, but there's the scent of sex and sweat mumbling in the air and Izuku simply ignores it with a blush that reaches the tips of his ears.
It hasn't been that long a time since he's either bent over or doing the bending though Ochako insists that the erotic, bisexual Gods would weep if they ever saw him. He doesn't even know if they exist but it's a discovery he's unwilling to make for the sake of his modestly shy self.
Bakugou shows him the bathroom, he awkwardly slides in. Taking the first breath out before the words What the heck? What? What am I even doing here?! Dad, why do you get into random drinking competitions with strangers?! You were here for work! easily slip out of his mouth. In his breakdown, he considers calling Ochako but decides against interrupting his best friend's rarely free evening with something like this. One night, Zuku, one night and you'll be back to petting your cat to sleep, he tells himself, enticing his heart with promises of watching painstakingly dumb soap operas which he hates so much that he watches every single one of them out of pure spite.
It will all be fine.
Half an hour later, he realizes all is not fine. The sheer spit of cold water roughs his skin and gives him a shock of awakening that takes away any chance of sleep, he dries himself up and wears a clean shirt and shorts that are comfortable to run in if it comes to that. When he steps out, Katsuki watches him like a hawk and he doesn't exactly fault him; this is a (not entirely) unwelcomed stranger in his home.
"Thank you for letting me use your bathroom." He says sheepishly before sitting on a chair near the coffee table in the corner. It has a few magazines, mostly about pro-wrestling but there's one little travelogue in between and Izuku begins to read it, hoping to elevate the feeling of being stared at.
"Not from around here, are you?"
He smiles tightly, "I, uh, came down here for a trek over at Mount Sugisuna."
"They all do," Katsuki says, leaning over the sofa handle to grab an opened can of beer. "Think it's fucking fascinating to climb your ass out for some shitty lake view that's half-dry."
"Actually," Izuku says, against his better judgments of minding interactions, "I am here for the shrines at the top, they are really beautiful ones," almost anticipating his next question, he wills himself to reveal, "I work in a Travel magazine of sorts so it was more for a job task than, uh, religious sentiments."
Katsuki looks at him, gaze roaming as if there's some evidence of him being what he says he is on his person. Whatever he sees must have been enough because that's all it takes for him to drink another swig from the beer can. "Do you want some?" He tilts the can a bit and Izuku smiles, gratefully, "Um, no, I don't drink," at least not in the presence of complete strangers. Katsuki finishes his bit, "so, you're also a fucking liar then."
Izuku's mouth runs dry, he avoids looking at him directly and it brings forward something that he's been subtly ignoring.
Katsuki's eyes are very compelling, it's too red for him to look into without thinking that he's going down some endless abyss, and his mother has warned him about people who make him feel like that; 'Never a good thing, son,' her voice rings, and he's not quite sure why she's told him that. So when Katsuki looks at him, intense and dedicated, he feels an urge to give in though he's not quite sure to what. Granted this might just be Izuku's heightened sense of discomfort but he doesn't exactly think he wants to meet Katsuki's gaze even if he could.
Perhaps, his mom was onto something.
"You mutter a lot. Is this a habit?"
"I," shit, he thinks, "It's a thing I do when I am nervous," he admits, lightly flushed as he tries to shift the topic, "You're from around here, Bakugou-san?"
"Fuck if I know, I don't remember a place before this anyway." Katsuki gets up to his feet, "have you had dinner? I don't want raccoon eyes complaining to me in the morning."
"Oh, I already—" Izuku is graciously interrupted by his own stomach with a massive rumbling of a starved child. It's embarrassing enough to make Katsuki smugly roll his eyes with a short chuckle.
"Sit down, nerd."
The name catches him off-guard, Izuku only ends up watching Katsuki walk into the little kitchen. The proverbial feeling that translates into how did I get here? still ghosts over Izuku's shoulder and he can't quite remember either. Maybe it's because he's a lot more tired than he expected himself to be, maybe the climb got to him but the seven-hour sleep of the previous day doesn't give him enough rest to remember.
His leg moves his bag and a bell tinkles to his attention, Izuku frowns, he gathers the magazines and puts them at one end, clearing the space to open his bag on the table. The tinkle is heard again and he grabs the source, it's slightly thready so he pulls it out with care.
A rusted red bracelet, almost long enough to be an anklet, with three small golden bells attached to it, swaying the sweet sound reminds him that he had been given that in the other shrine, it was far more desolate and personal than the others, stacked deep in the bamboo forest that Izuku had got lost in because he sucks at navigation.
He didn't mean to take it but it got stuck to his backpack's net. By the time he realizes it was there, it was too late so he decided to take it as a souvenir for himself.
The crackle of hot oil and the sizzle of shrimp breaded in panko crumbs make his belly hungry again, though they also make him a little confused. You wouldn't think a guy like Bakugou-san could cook, something that he would think twice before telling his host.
Soon enough, miso soup that is sauteed vegetables in dashi broth is set out on the table alongside a bigger bowl of white rice served with crispy fried shrimp, freshly sliced avocadoes, and finely chopped cilantro.
He swallows, trying to remember the table manners that his mother had so vigorously drilled in him.
"You didn't have to trouble yourself—"
"If that mouth isn't opening for eating," Katsuki states, offering a pair of chopsticks, "then keep it shut unless," a glint of something devious passes his eyes, "you wish to put it to some other use."
Izuku, an idiot, about to part his lips to say something immediately shuts it before joining his hands in a humble receiving. With a soft itadakimasu uttering in his head, he reaches for the miso soup, his tongue savours the familiar tang of salt in the broth, he sighs softly in relief as if he's done something good for his body.
It's so warm, it feels like he's home.
He notices Katsuki's gaze and smirk, immediately throwing water on Izuku's delighted face. That man looks too smug for his own good especially when Izuku knows he can't do much about it.
"Have you eaten?"
Katsuki shakes his head, going back to drinking a new can of beer, "you don't feel the hunger in a place like this."
Izuku frowns at the cryptic answer but lets it be as he observes Katsuki. Apart from the carnelian red eyes, and of course, seeming like he's about to break a chair over Izuku's head, he's a bit of a mystery. Not the enigma kind, not the kind that would turn heads. Izuku decides he can't put it into words but it's something subtle.
In fact, that might be the deal with this place and not just Katsuki.
There's some music playing outside, probably time for the strip clubs to open, riding into the night. It's beginning to get dark enough for colourful lights to glare at the passengers of the street. Izuku is lost in his thoughts before he's startled to find red eyes returning his gaze.
Izuku squeaks softly but he doesn't break it off. He's never seen something this intense and yet, so palpably empty, Katsuki's eyes seem like a hotel room which by far is the worst analogy he's gotten to, thank the Lords, he didn't try his hand at poetry. He finishes his dinner, thanks his host and tries to wash the utensils but Katsuki is swifter in rejecting his help.
Instead of arguing, Izuku moves to the small balcony to look at the cloudless night sky, the landscape of the town is so coloured, it's also really tiny. Izuku, being a travel person and all that, kinda sees that sometimes, the stories of these small streets is what the cities are built on. They are threads and the city, well, the city is the whole tapestry and if you listened well, you could listen to what they say in the night.
"You mutter a lot," Katsuki repeats and Izuku raises his shoulders, slightly self-conscious.
"Sorry, uh, Bakugou-san—"
"Katsuki," he corrects him and Izuku blinks, quite like an idiot, "call me Katsuki," what prodded that change? Izuku doesn't know but it doesn't matter because Katsuki only continues. "Why do you mutter? If you've got something to say," he stands near to Izuku, "you should just say it.'
"What do you work as, Katsuki-san?"
Silence ensues and Izuku is close to apologizing before 'm a wrestler,' thrums out in the air.
Oh, he thinks blankly, figures, the guy can probably bend me in half. Some part of his primal brain jumps out at the suggestive tones that action implies, Izuku being the ever reasonable person with his self says that the bending does not necessarily have to be sexual, Katsuki could break his back which his brain happily ignores in its literal meaning.
What is it with the wild relation of threat to his life and being horny about it? Another tab opens in the windows of his head like some unwarranted scam page and it briefly goes— According to recent studies, violent tendencies and behaviours of humans can sometimes be perceived as attractive— Izuku switches off his mind, sometimes, he hated how creatively analytical his brain could be. He's been complimented a lot on it, but believe him, it's a struggle.
Besides, the guy has a girlfriend, doesn't he?
Izuku sits up straight, speaking of which,
"Sorry about earlier," he says, "I didn't mean to interrupt you and your girlfriend?"
He hears the sound of a smirk, "been thinking about it, were you?" Izuku resolutely doesn't look back to and he hears him go on, "she wasn't my girlfriend, just another who keeps coming back." Izuku doesn't ask for what because he has more self-preservation concerning his shy modesty, and takes his word for what it is.
"You've stayed here for a long time."
"As I said, haven't known a place before this."
Something about the way he says it, makes Izuku feel that Katsuki is being way more patient than he should. Down on the streets, there's little, lively dances going on and the unclean surrounding it doesn't bother Izuku as much.
"Do you ever join them?"
"Do I look like I dance?"
"You don't look like you share either," Izuku quips back, "yet, here I am."
Katsuki is silenced and Izuku counts that as a happy victory, and the winds blow in the night singing to the chime of the tiny bells.
"Got that from the shrine?"
"Ah," Izuku says sheepishly before explaining the story
"I'm kinda sure that's robbery."
"It's accidental robbery."
Katsuki snorts in derision. "Technically, you're not intending to return it having taken it without permission."
"No, I don't think so," Izuku admits, with a little shame, "I'm probably never coming back here."
"That's what most people say," Katsuki replies, monotonously, "they come back anyhow."
Izuku frowns, finally turning to look at the man. He isn't clear if Katsuki means return as in this Hotel Minnie or to the shrine. "Why do people come back?"
"Hard to leave I guess." He shrugs, and Izuku feels like he sort of understands.
Sometimes, he'd travel to abandoned parks, 'Relics of the past' as Ochako would like to term them; torn down bridges, shrines and forts. Amongst them was a theatre that had been active primarily during the War and promptly closed after the end of it. The seats are all the same with tengu masks thrown around, creaking woods with pigeon nests scattered about and a certain feeling that one wasn't alone.
He didn't want to leave it and Ochako had to drag him out by the collar because he had been reluctant.
It's actually a bit haunting now that Izuku thinks about it. Most buildings that were abandoned had this unnatural aura around them, one that tells you, if you're alive, that this isn't the place you should be in. Some kinda warning if you asked him. Then again, that might just be his knee jerk reaction because of all the late-night horror movies he watches only to be scared of the bathroom mirror for the next three days.
Sneaking a glance at the blond looking down, he wonders if that's how Katsuki got himself here.
A soft ringing and vibration get his attention, it sounds like his phone. Izuku knits his brows together, who could it be at this time? He had texted Ochako and Iida of his lateness, had already told his dad who reminded him to call his mom—
Izuku stops. His Mom!
He snaps to his feet, taking both Katsuki and himself by surprise. Eloquently, Izuku trips over a step he hadn't seen before and falls over the tips of his toes and awaits with shut eyes for his body to meet the floor face first.
When a moment later he doesn't, Izuku squints his eyes open and feels his head against a sturdy chest with an arm on his hip, steadying him on his feet. Izuku bends his head, and suddenly, he's so close. He can feel Katsuki's breath on his temples, fanning his curls, it would've been easier to stomach if Katsuki had a mock grin or a smirk but no, the blond stares at him noncommittally.
"You alright there, nerd?"
His voice sounds low and deeper, it's inviting enough for Izuku to almost lean in before he catches himself. Flushed, he points to the bag, "Thanks, uh my phone's ringing," and he slips away from his grip to his backpack to get a hold of his phone while ignoring the stare on his back.
Not a hard task for the next few minutes because the apartment was filled with an angry, hollering voice of Inko Midoriya demanding to know why her son was as irresponsible as to forget that he had a mother. Izuku patiently listens to the entire litany before the call ended with an endearment of, 'I love you too, Mom, take care,' and when Katsuki chuckles behind him, Izuku is once again aware of his surroundings.
"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. My mom gets a little," Izuku tries to find the words, "extra."
"Figures, my old hag isn't any better." Katsuki says, he takes the towel and looks over his shoulder, "I'll be going for a shower if raccoon eyes comes by, ask her to get lost." So saying he left to the washroom and Izuku hopes he didn't really expect him to say it.
He sighs before sitting on the couch, he tries to slow his fast-beating heart, tries to distract it from what might have happened if the phone hadn't interrupted them. Izuku's brows furrow, why had the phone interrupted them though? The bracelet tinkles too loudly and he puts it down as he remembers that someone had just called to his phone but he isn't sure who it was, he blinks slowly, it was probably no one important.
There's a loud knock on the door and Izuku is on his feet, rushing to it because he's sure the poor door can't handle any more pressure.
"Mina-san," Izuku says even before he sees her which catches her by surprise.
"Ah, Bakugou-san told me you'd come by—"
"And he asked you to kick me out when I do?" She asks, all smiles.
"Err.....uh, not essentially."
"So he did, I wouldn't blame him though," Mina says, grinning at him, "You're too adorable to be shared."
Confusion flashes through Izuku when he hears that but before he can ask her what she means, Mina goes ahead in asking if he's comfortable in his stay, if Katsuki has been any bit of an ass, if he ate dinner. To which he respectfully replies, Yes and No, also yes.
"He cooked you dinner?" She says, surprised. "Oh wow, that's new."
"He said it was to make sure you wouldn't scream at him in the morning." Izuku inserts to help clarify. Mina pouts as if there's something unfair in what he had just conveyed, "he could've just ordered in, he never cooks for anyone, not even me and I've known him for years now."
It tempts Izuku to question, "how long have you been here, Mina-san?"
It's a strange process to watch Mina frown at the question like it mattered but shrugged it off in blankness. "Welp, it's been some time. Anyhow, take these." She hands him a couple of candles, "there's a power cut due at some point and I would hate for the entire building to hear Bakugou's loud voice vibrating off the walls when it does happen."
He thanks her and takes the red candles and lighter before his mind reaches another plane of question. "Mina-san, if you don't mind me asking," he says, "Does this building only rent rooms to stayers?"
She shakes her head, "Not all of them are renters, some ends of the floors are given to other businesses."
"What kind of businesses?" Izuku questions before he can think and Mina grins, it's peculiar to Izuku, the moment you thought her smile couldn't get wider, Mina-san would proceed to rival the gleeful bearings of the Cheshire cat.
"Well, if you want to know, you'll have to book a room here."
"Eh?"
"Yep," Mina affirms, clapping her hand while batting her lashes hopefully. It's almost skin pricking for Izuku to reject her offer as he shakes his head casually.
"I don't think that would be possible, I need to go home remember?"
"Home is where the heart is, where does yours lie?"
His lips curve hesitantly as if the question is weird to be asked which it is. Though, not exactly for the reasons of social propriety, it's because it seemed like Mina already knew the answer before he even thought of one. It's a personal detail but one that Izuku has figured over the course of his life.
"Well, with me of course," he replies, "where else would you think it would be?"
Perplexion settles before completely evaporating, a second passes for Izuku to think he almost imagined it if not for the residue barely left in the tick of her jaw.
"You're an oddball, aren't you?"
Not knowing what to answer, he only touches the back of his neck awkward in 'well, I suppose I generally am' way. "I'll see you around then," she waves goodbye to him and is gone as quickly as she came. He shuts the door. Gently. And proceeds to put the three red candles on the table.
From where he's standing, Izuku peeps through the balcony to see if the dances ended, there's no one left on the empty streets but music from the strip clubs is still audible. The skyline is dark enough to mistake for some abyss, a vortex of right outside those building of grey and old. Jokingly, he thinks he's entered a different world.
"You didn't tell her to get lost."
Izuku laughs softly at how disappointed he sounds, "Katsuki, Mina-san came to give candles because a power cut is......" he trails off when he notices Katsuki wearing only a pair of black tracks. His back faced Izuku as he took another towel to dry himself, taut muscles in his back ripple when twines of water run through the formed ridges, swimming to ride lower and—
Izuku turns back to the table in time, a rose pink flushes into his neck, creeping up to his ears as he takes a deep breath.
"The fuck? There's a power cut? Again? I told her to fix that fucking generator."
"There are three candles, th-uh, they might last through the night." He says, surveying the candle in his hand. Odd choice, why would anyone have red candles instead of white or orange but he isn't going to nitpick if it provides him with a distraction. He hears footsteps and relaxes knowing that Katsuki is moving away.
"You really think these shitty candles will last the night?"
Izuku's heart stops as his arms cage him unintentionally against the table, Katsuki's head bends forward over Izuku's neck, his elbows brush against the side of his hips and it's so unmeaningfully done that Izuku can barely control the blush that starts to grow darker from the soft pink. This is ridiculous, a part of him says, why must I be so affected by something as little as this? Except it isn't little, not by a long shot and definitely not to Izuku who wants to lean on his heels and press his back against Katsuki's chest.
"They might," Izuku offers, hoping his voice doesn't sound air starved. Katsuki closes whatever shame of a distance between them to grab at the candle which ends up being half-broken.
"Tch." He says and Izuku feels the annoyance rumble in his chest. "Fucking hell, I'm gonna ask dunce face to buy better ones."
"Katsuki? You're too—" Izuku turns, aiming to ask the other to move back but curses his mistake of looking straight into Katsuki's eyes. Red gazes, like a river and Izuku takes a step back only to bump against the table.
"—close."
Katsuki raises a brow before he smirks, maintaining a firmer grip, he slants in with the tip of their heads almost touching.
"That so?"
Izuku bites his lips, licking them to water some semblance of words out but he fails. It's really weird, he's usually not as much of a blushing virgin but something about Katsuki makes him one, it's not a welcomed change neither is it one he can control. It does bring him to think, does Katsuki want this? Why would he and with someone he has next to no knowledge about? But something tells Izuku that's alright and the need to know dissipates from him. It isn't odd but it should be, he thinks, why isn't it?
"You're muttering again," Katsuki says bringing the back of his hand to graze against his collarbone, cold, hard knuckles brushing the hollow of his neck and scaling his adam's apple to tip his chin up."You said you mutter when you're nervous." Red eyes gazed at him.
"Do I make you nervous, shitty nerd?"
He's so close, Izuku thinks, neck burning in the aftereffects, his fingers tingle and they begin to curl out before a loud bang! on the door disturbs them.
"Bakubrooooooo!"
Izuku, to some extent of amusement and embarrassment, takes stock of the record-breaking speed that Katsuki's face twists from being relaxed to the homicide suspect that Izuku had initially painted him as. He sighs, pushes himself off the green-haired man and by the time Katsuki reaches the door, Izuku is concerned for the ill-fated person outside.
"What the fresh fucking hell are you doing here, dunce face and shitty hair?"
"Oh, I just came here to give this lighter—"
"I have a kitchen."
"Yeah but like you haven't been annoyed enough lately."
".....so fucking what?"
"So I thought I'd hit you up to do the right thing of course."
Izuku jerks back a little when he hears a series of loud thuds! and, 'Bakubro, whoa, no!' It almost feels like a calamity has struck but Izuku guesses this is somewhat of a normal occurrence. He feels himself shiver, it isn't even cold. The sultry weather caps the night, airing a wet humidity that makes Izuku pull the front of his shirt back and forth, letting enough air and in the meantime, Katsuki came back with a lighter, annoyed but he looked a little adorable that way once you're over the homicidal look.
He put the lighter on the table beside the candles before Izuku cleared his throat.
"Katsuki-kun, do you have another can of beer?"
The blond scoffed, "thought you said you didn't drink."
"Thought you said I was a liar."
Katsuki gives him a long, thorough look, "you're one cheeky brat, aren't you?"
"Most people find it annoying, and I'm not usually like this." Izuku inserts, worrying his lips and Katsuki's gaze fights to not flicker.
"Didn't say I did, nerd." He grins. "I like it just fine."
Well, Izuku thought, that cements it. Katsuki probably doesn't mind sleeping with him, which is a wonderful discovery but it's not brash enough to make him do what he wants which is why he needs the alcohol to loosen him up a fair bit. The only drawback that might mess with his system and make him late in the morning. Late for what though? He questions silently, feeling like he's lost the tracks to his train of thought.
Just as Katsuki is closing some cabinet, the lights go out and a loud 'Son of a bitch,' occurs in the air and Izuku scrambles his hand on the table for the candle and the lighter. Thankfully, he finds both and quickly lights it.
"Katsuki? I'm here." He calls out, half expecting his roommate for the night, the other half, the side more obsessed with cult classic horror movies, thinks an oni will barge in any moment.
"Nerd." Obviously, it comes from behind him.
"Ka—Kacchan!" Izuku's soul jumps out of its body and almost ascends beyond the grave but Katsuki's low laugh brings him back to reality, he whines, "Why would you do that?"
"Did you see your face? That's gonna be imprinted in my head."
"Not. Funny."
Katsuki stifles another chuckle, "Sure." He pulls Izuku's wrist leading him back, the green-haired man minds his step before he sits on the floor next to Katsuki. he places the candle in a flat bowl that brought. Izuku takes the whiskey, it has a smoother taste of sweetness and Izuku half-suspects it to be Irish.
"So," Izuku continues, "what do you do when you're bored, Kacchan?"
A snort and then, "What're you gonna do with that information, nerd?"
"Maybe do it whenever I'm bored. I'm running out of things to do when I'm bored so that may help on my not long list. Last time, I tried learning the hieroglyphs."
"And what?" Katsuki probes, "did you send letters with storks and eagles?"
"Ah, here's the thing," Izuku replies, trying not to take offence, "Hieroglyphs weren't the form used for letters, official communication in letters for Ancient Egyptians was usually through the script of uh, Hieratics of which Hieroglyphs is the parent script."
Katsuki stares at him as if saying, Gods, he really does live up to the nerd name, doesn't he? Izuku grins nervously and sips on the whiskey.
"I fight people, nothing as fancy as you, nerd."
"Hmm, I doubt I can do that."
"You can," Katsuki says, "the question is will you?"
"I think it's a bit too harsh for me."
Katsuki stays silent, oddly enough they talk about their parents. Izuku wonders if he's got to that age but he learns that Katsuki's parents live in the outskirts and he sees them on the second Saturday of every month before going camping for a night with the rest of the people who stay in Hotel Minnie. In return, Izuku narrates his experience with rescuing a cat during his childhood, Kenzo is the neighbourhood cat now and Izuku shows him the light scar on his elbow that he got from jumping from one ledge to another.
They're already sitting close enough, and the red in Katsuki's eyes flicker brilliantly in the orange hues of the candle flame. Izuku is almost sure he hasn't seen anything quite like it.
"—cats are annoying," slips out of Katsuki's mouth and that's where their disagreement takes place.
"No, they're not. They're just as pleasant as humans."
"Good that I don't like humans either."
Izuku throws him a look that says he's played dirty and Katsuki counts it a win to drink another glass. It's like that for a while before they get up to keep their glasses on the table and get into another argument on how coffee is better than tea, Izuku is a step away from throwing fists before Katsuki wraps a firm hand over his nape and drags him into a kiss.
His lips are soft, a little chapped, they smell of whiskey, Izuku gasps shakily as Katsuki breaks it, moving away in distance and Izuku has to physically strain his head from chasing that kiss.
"Had to shut you up," Katsuki says, looking away. Izuku thinks he's imagining when him blushing and it gives him enough strength to catch Katsuki's arm. "Kacchan," he smiles, biting his lips, "I'm not drunk enough yet."
He isn't sure what Katsuki sees in his eyes in the dying candlelight but they hold their gazes for a second, and the next they're on each other, hands grabbing at each other, scrambling for purchase, they lose whatever chastity aligned the first time they kissed now it's just desperation with a promise to devour.
It's so hot and humid. Muted whinings slip past Izuku when Katsuki's teeth bite into his lower lip, they're stumbling past, almost falling over furnishings but Izuku's hands move from the blond's waist to remove his t-shirt leaving a trail of clothes across the bedroom floor. Warm hands touch his bare skin drawing out shaky gasps, he's pushed back in a single rough movement, and Izuku falls on his elbows. Katsuki's room smells a bit like fresh laundry and soft undertones of vanilla and burnt caramel but the spice in it comes only when Katsuki climbs over him, caging him like Izuku is going to evade him.
The playful grin on Katsuki's face shows teeth and it catches Izuku off guard, a warm blush climbing past his neck on the act, god, it's really been a while since he's done this.
Instinctively, he turns to his right and while Izuku hadn't meant to give him free access, he isn't complaining when Katsuki's nuzzles in, tongue licking a long, slow stripe from the crook of neck to nip at the tip of his ear. Izuku's already half hard when he bites back a quivering sound but the way his body goes slack in Katsuki's grip makes the blond chuckle, it sounds deep enough for Izuku to let a shudder pass that continues into a throaty moan when Katsuki's hand moves to grab the plum curve of his ass, kneading into it as Izuku's spine arches to it.
"So, tell me, nerd," Katsuki says, licking his lips, he looks like he's ready to devour him. "How'd you like to be taken?"
Izuku's ears burn and his gaze becomes shifty, and he feels a smile creep up on Katsuki's lips, "Or maybe you'd like to take me," he allows with a pout and Izuku knows it's a choice but they both know it's not the one he'll choose, "too bad I've been thinking of folding you over my table ever since raccoon eyes brought you over."
Izuku squeaks in a tremor, blushing hard, and Katsuki smirks, "bet you'd like that huh." He wraps his hand lightly around Izuku's neck, admiring the ways his adam's apple bobs under his thumb. "C'mon nerd, don't make me wait." He nudges, "tell me."
Under the direct command, Izuku almost stammered out, "Can you take me—" he looks up hopefully, "rough? Rail me good? I—" modesty gets the better of him and he stammers into silence, biting his lips. "Fuck," he hears Katsuki snicker but there's a harshness to his voice, "always the decent ones you gotta watch out for."
Izuku rises to defend himself before Katsuki lays hold on his arm and flips him on his belly and Izuku's mind melts into jelly, he's always welcomed aggressive partners, loves it when they can throw him around when he wants and leave bruises wherever and whenever possible. When Katsuki shoves the back of his neck into the mattress, he bites into the sheet with a muffled whimper but not for long when Katsuki's hand slips from his neck to his green curls. Tugging on them in quiet command, Izuku's hips are raised, ass on display, he hears the click of a bottle and tenses when two fingers, wet in lube, push into his hole, scaling and rubbing the hot walls that tightened around them but they forced through mercilessly sliding through when another finger scissored through.
Knuckles deep, Katsuki bends over the shorter male, mapping wet trails and bites from the arch of Izuku's ass all the way past his back, littering it in red, angry blushes and each one of them elicits debauched pleas which only makes Katsuki bite harder and suddenly, Izuku screams at the spot of nerve bundles in him being pushed against by Katsuki's fingers.
"Caught you."
An electric impulse runs through Izuku's veins at those words, Katsuki's hand retreat and Izuku almost regrets his ass trying to clench up to prevent it. It doesn't help, he mourns the loss until they wrap around his hard cock, pads of his finger ghosting over the curve of his swollen head, Izuku's breaths turn numbered and impatiently, he rocks himself into the grasp which in turn earns him a painful squeeze.
"Stay," Katsuki snarls and Izuku whines into the sheets but obeys, he's rewarded with the satisfying press of Katsuki's body against his.
Immediately, Izuku's wrists are behind his back, tightly held by one hand, he tries testing it with a wriggle and sighs when they remain in place, the other hand rests on his hip, gripping and digging into the pliant flesh. Gaze licked in filthy debauchery, Izuku turns his head over his shoulder, and finds Katsuki close enough for parting his drool covered lips to beg, "fuck me, Katsuki, please?"
Hell if anything could stop Katsuki after that. He thrusts his cock into him without warning and doesn't give Izuku time to get used to before he pushes in again, forcefully squeezing through. A rill of cries Izuku lets out when Katsuki makes good on what he wanted, tilting him in a different angle to rail him into a sobbing mess on the sheets, riling him quick to his orgasm.
Izuku's gasps, the fiery electric that shoots through his nerves fuelling his mouth to let out a hoarse cry, drenched in desire to warn Katsuki he's close, his arms burn in an ache under the tight hold Katsuki places on them, it adds to his pleasure as the blond fucks him into a more brutal pace, moves his hand to smack his ass at the same time that his cock hits his prostate.
Shuddering, Izuku arches into the sheets and cums with a scream running into a hiss, painting the sheets in his fluids, Katsuki doesn't stop pounding him even after the blond cums, filling Izuku in his warm fluids and the room resounds with the slick sounds of skin slapping against skin. Eventually, Katsuki pulls out, with nothing holding him up, Izuku lets his body collapse on his side, knowing that he'll be sore tomorrow and it's a feeling he looks forward to.
At the oddly silent room, Izuku's eyes open, soft viridian sinking in the afterglow meet Katsuki's gaze at the same time that the blond had looked up.
It's only then that he notices the scars on Katsuki, he is a fighter so he supposes that's where they came from. Some are deep, others aren't and there is a little, deep one on Katsuki's chest, Izuku lets his hand graze over the mark, lithe fingers tracing the mark before he sees Katsuki peering down at him, dismantling and deciphering. Izuku, being the unaware, reckless romantic he is, leans on his elbows momentarily and places a chaste kiss over the wound.
Immediately realising what he just did, Izuku freezes when he witnesses a change in Katsuki's face, having turned stony edged.
"I am sorry," he apologises immediately, internally berating himself for crossing a line, "I didn't want to make you feel—"
Katsuki blocks his words with a kiss, his lips part to accept him. Breathlessly, Izuku sinks into it the warmth, their tongues slowly gliding in the rhythm of their hearts, Izuku hears Katsuki sigh into it and when they break, Izuku almost has tears in his eyes when he looks at Katsuki again.
It isn't awkward, and that's what makes it awkward, at least to Izuku because sex with a stranger shouldn't seem intimate. Granted, he knows Katsuki a little bit but this strange feeling isn't warranted by such little knowledge, Izuku can't help the heaviness in his chest. He shrugs it off, raising his hand to stroke his cheek, Katsuki leans into and it makes Izuku inwardly preen.
"You don't seem like the affectionate kind."
"I'm not." The blond affirms, he lifts himself off to reach out to the drawer, Izuku's hands do not know what to do with themselves until he returns. "But you're gonna see me go all about it," Katsuki grins when he takes another condom packet and tears it with his teeth and it forces Izuku to stare at him blinkingly.
"Wait a minute, Katsuki, I won't be able to walk—"
Katsuki snorts, "I haven't railed you that good yet."
What. Izuku thinks, ears and dick twitching in interest when Katsuki pulls his thighs to wrap around his torso and picks him up just as easily to the bathroom, Izuku preens at the reckless display of strength but realises about a few things that mean for him. The rest of his night is spent in Izuku engaging in the filthiest, deep blush-inducing acts that drive all coherence of the world around him out of his mind, leaving him to moan only Katsuki's name.
A part of Izuku thinks he isn't supposed to wake up in the morning on time and reverts into a line of confusion when he questions what he has to wake up for. Half-lidded eyes search the room for a reason but stops when they see Katsuki sleeping, his arms wounded around his waist and it takes a lot of effort to slip past without the sleeping blond noticing but he does and in his panic, Izuku slips a pillow into his arms.
He is almost amused when it does the trick, Izuku retreats into the bathroom and he's barely surprised when he has to limp to it or when he sees his body looking like it would raise some concerns with his doctor. Izuku takes a quick rinse, and with some guarded difficulty goes into the hall to dress into what he had worn yesterday. When he's done, he walks back into the room Katsuki is in the return to his arms and stops mid-way reaching out to the door.
Wh-what am I doing? He thinks and isn't sure of where the question came from or what the answer to it is but something tells him that he really should. Is he supposed to be going somewhere? His mind aches a bit, groaning quietly to it, his hand instinctively reaches out to the door before he hears the chime of a bell. It rings some clarity when he sees the red rusted bracelet and remembers the little shrine.
From there, his memory becomes clearer which is odd he shouldn't have forgotten it in the first place.
The need to leave is a familiar one to the strange feeling last night and while they aren't the same, they somehow share the same roots. Izuku shakes his head and goes to take his phone instead, his screen shows a scheduled alarm for his train to leave in half an hour and that jolts him into action.
The ride from here to the train station is exactly twenty minutes but Izuku isn't counting on his luck anymore, he is way past that point. He's never run out from one night stands, let alone someone like Katsuki and the thought leaves a bitter taste in his memory and a tough lump to swallow. He has his backpack on him, stuffing the bracelet into it and nothing of his remains in the flat. He closes the door gently and Izuku takes a step back, feeling like he needed to find his way back or he would be stuck in some variation of it.
Passing through corridors with mirror ceilings, He reaches Mina's door and refrains from knocking and disturbing her sleep, and concedes to write a small thank you letter and pushes it from under the door.
The feeling subsides into the wilderness of his mind as soon as he's out of the building. A more aware Izuku takes over before he looks back at the building, and there's a nostalgic tide washing over him, it sounds closely like Katsuki's voice calling him back. The horn blares from his taxi and Izuku has a thought, a floaty thought as he gets in the backseat that he might never come back here again.
He catches his train and his mother is delighted to see him, Izuku decides to spend the rest of his time with her because she pampers him enough to forget, and it allows him to have a word with his father about the kind of connections he makes and is surprised when his father apologises.
"I gave you the wrong address, son." He says and Izuku blinks before saying, "huh?"
"Yes," Toshinori reveals with a guilty chuckle, "It had the wrong block number, it was supposed to be the ninth block, Sir Nighteye's cabin."
"Eh? But I was in Hotel Minnie and Mina-san claimed to know you—"
"That's where you went?"
"Yes!"
Toshinori hums, taking in the piece of information, "Most who go there are stuck to the place, I've heard that they spend far more than one night there. It has a casino running in the side and the people are very welcoming."
Izuku flinches slightly and his father notices with a quirked lip when he answers, "yes, they were."
"Then, why did you leave so quickly?" His father prods, knowing better than to leave a silent subject reeling in Izuku, "your mother wouldn't have pestered you if that's what you wanted to do, you could've stayed for some more nights."
"I could have," Izuku admits, "But," he lingers on the end of that words before looking at his father in the eye.
"It felt like I would be a guest outstaying my visit."
Toshinori, being the smart man he is, arches a brow.
"You're certain it wasn't the other way round, son?"
Izuku doesn't answer and Toshinori drops it and instead, it brings about an unsettling quietness that doesn't unclench. It lives in Izuku whenever he thinks of a particular shade of red. But over the years, he doesn't think a lot of it until it occurs to him one night when he's petting his cat Kenzo and watching a ridiculous soap that he realises Katsuki had never asked for his name, neither did Mina for that matter, it makes everything feel more cryptic. He wonders if Katsuki thinks about it, about him but doubts he had the right to imagine any further of this matter if his walk of shame that morning many years ago is something to go by.
Still somehow, he feels right, like he didn't regret doing so, maybe in another life he would stay, but it doesn't feel like a mistake in this one. Izuku frowns at the complicated emotions that come every time he brings this up with himself. He avoids it in favour of looking at the spider web that is being weaved in the corner of his apartment, a reminder that he needs to clean it soon but something about it makes him think—
Ah, was that it? That I was afraid of being stuck?
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31845736