A/N: it's ass o'clock in the morning and I'm basically a zombie while writing this lol hope yall enjoy.
Kirishima has been watching Shouto scroll and tap at his phone, sprawled out at the foot of that stupidly large bed for about an hour. He's been smiling that sly little smile he gets when he's up to something devious and while Kirishima feels like he should be worried, he's more jealous than anything.
"What'cha doin'?"
"Snapchat." The mismatched boy says without missing a beat, shoving another handful of grapes into his mouth. Kirishima makes a face and groans. Of course he'd be too engrossed in social media to entertain him. Kids and their damned platforms.
He moves from the head of the bed and crawls over Shouto, blanketing him with his massive body as he rests his head on top of Shouto's and blatantly watches him scroll through his phone.
"You've got quite a lot of friends."
"Not friends. Streaks." Shouto corrects him, adding a shrug on as if it were an afterthought. "And sometimes clients."
Kirishima stalls.
"Clients?"
"Yeah. I sell nudes on my premium."
The redhead sits up with an odd mix of anger and disappointment etched into his features.
"You do what? And what the hell is a premium?"
Shouto seems to pick up on his tone, pausing to give Eijirou and indeterminate gaze. He abandons his phone with a roll of his eyes, vehemently sitting up on his knees to face the older man.
"Listen, babes, I don't expect you to understand this but sex work isn't really all that bad. It's frowned upon because of old fuckheads like you who think that the body is some sort of sacred temple so you shame young boys and gals like myself in public but still go home and beat your dick off to teenage porn every night. Am I wrong?"
Eijirou was expecting for Shouto to explain himself, not put him on the spot. He sputters, looking for any answer that would amount to 'no' without being a complete lie.
He can find none.
"W-Well, I---"
"Even now, you're paying me to do absolutely nothing but sit on your face every now and again and bless you with the opportunity to breathe the same air as me. What about that, is that wrong?"
It's not.
"I just want you to see that I can be what you need so you don't feel like you have to---"
"Hate to break it to you, buddy, but I don't have to. I'm loaded. Set for the rest of my fucking life and that's not even including the shit ton of cash I rake in from sending some sad, closeted little white boy a picture of my ass every two weeks---"
"OKAY! I get it! Jesus Christ..."
"Good. Are you done trying to police me now or would you like to ride my tits a little longer?"
Eijirou sighs. If he'd known dealing with barely legal, sassy teenagers would give him this big of a headache, he'd have reconsidered.
...ah, who's he kidding?
"Baby boy, I'm not trying to police you, okay? I'm just---I'm trying to understand you a little better is all."
Shouto tilts his head, eyes narrowed curiously yet skeptically.
"Fine. I'm a spoiled, rotten fucker who likes dick and money. I've got a penchant for ruining any man who even remotely reminds me of my father and maybe sucking dick in frat houses on weekends. How's that for an understanding?"
Eijirou thinks his blood pressure may have just gone up at an alarming rate, but he'll table that for now.
"...okay, but why? You're so young; you couldn't have always been this way. Who made you like this?"
Shouto raises up with a snarl.
"None of your fucking business, that's who! How fucking dare you be so pompous as to sit there and ask me that like you've got any fucking right---get out!"
Eijirou raises his hands in surrender and stands, if only to put a few feet between himself and the angry teen in his bed.
"Hey now, let's just calm---"
"Fuck you, Kirishima! I said get out---now! You don't fucking own me, you fuck!"
He barely dodges the bag of grapes being thrown at his head, not at all surprised when his clothes come hurling at him moments later. He just allows them to fall to the floor after they smack against his abs.
"I'm not leaving, Shouto."
"Like fucking hell you aren't---"
He moves to grab Kirishima's keys but the mammoth of a man grabs hold of his wrist and immediately catches the other when he tries to punch him. Instead of struggling, Shouto glares at him.
If looks could kill, he'd be dead twenty times over.
"I understand that I've obviously struck a nerve by asking you that and I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd trigger you or whatever horrible memories you have and I wouldn't ever ask you to do something that hurt you. You know that, don't you, kitten?"
Shouto huffs indignantly and averts his gaze with a shrug. His arms go lax in Eijirou's grip.
"I'm sorry. Can you forgive me? Please?"
And with another roll of his eyes, Shouto allows himself to be pulled into Eijirou's embrace without fuss.
"Fine. But stop asking me about anything that happened before I met you, okay? That shit's off limits and I will literally bite your fucking cock off if you keep trying to psychoanalyze me."
"You don't mean that." Eijirou chuckles. Shouto looks up at him and---he's pouting, gosh, he's so frickin' cute---his brows are pinched together, lip just the slightest bit poked out from the other.
"No. But I might cry and I hate crying and shit so do me a favor and nix that."
Kirishima feels his breath catch in his throat.
"Okay, baby."
"Promise?"
"I promise. Not until you're ready to talk."
He leans down to kiss his forehead and Shouto practically purrs.
For someone who doesn't want to be in a romantic relationship, he's definitely a sucker for physical affection.
He sighs and flops back onto the bed.
"Congratulations, you've made me both hungry and horny."
Eijirou allows himself a laugh, crawling over him and caging him between the soft bedding and his massive body. The first kiss is pressed against his neck and Shouto moves to allow him more room---more places to shower with bites and kisses that give him goosebumps.
"Fighting makes you hungry and horny?" He whispers into the skin of Shouto's collarbone.
"Mmm no, not usually. But I usually don't fight with big buff daddies, either."
"You gonna coin that phrase?"
"I fuckin' may as well."
"You're a hot ass mess."
"As long as I'm hot, daddy." He catches his lips as they ghost over his own.
"Fuck me and feed me Thai?"
Eijirou already has his fingers in him.
"Of course, baby. But can I ask something?"
Shouto raises his brow.
"How...how much would it take for you to delete your premium?"
Shouto's about ready to go into another fit.
"I don't want to, Ei. They pay me a lot and I like showing off my body---"
Eijirou's fingers pause.
"Then show it off to me. Send them to me instead and I'll give you 20,000 yen every time you do."
Shouto looks as if Eijirou's just asked him if he's got a second pair of testicles.
"You're full of shit."
"I'm not."
"You'd pay me $200 each for nudes when you're fucking me in real life?"
"Yes. You've got Venmo, right?"
He's at a loss for words.
"Y-Yeah---"
"Delete the premium."
Shouto can practically feel the heat clawing up his chest.
"O-Okay."
Kirishima smiles down at him.
"Good."
He looks way too innocent to be preparing to do some of the most sinful things to Shouto that anyone's ever seen.
#
"Just so we're clear, we're not fucking."
Izuku rolls his eyes, yanking his tie off and throwing it into his laundry basket where the rest of his ensemble will indefinitely follow. He mutely thinks to himself to do some laundry this week.
"Wouldn't have even tried it, kid, but sure. Any reason you're watching me undress right now, though?"
"I didn't say anything about not appreciating a good view."
It's a complete 180 from the way Katsuki had treated him a few weeks ago and Izuku isn't sure if Katsuki is being genuine or if he's just buttering him up because he agreed to tell him whatever he wants to know.
He'll settle for the former.
"Er---well, thanks?"
"Tch. Whatever, Deku."
Talk about mixed signals.
Izuku slides a shirt over his head with a sigh and moves to sit on his bed next to Katsuki. Trying to mentally prepare himself for the conversation to come. In all honesty, he had his own selfish reasons for accepting Katsuki's request---one of which included knowing more about the reason why Katsuki had run away from home.
And why he and his parents were on such horrible terms.
"So, you have questions."
"Yeah. As I've said before."
"Well, that's great because I also have questions. So let's say we make a trade."
Katsuki watches him with narrowed, skeptic eyes.
"And if I pass?"
"A date for every question you don't answer."
A kaleidoscope of emotions passes through Katsuki all at once; it's evident in the way his jaw drops and his face twitches from skeptical to incredulous. He bites the inside of his cheek, clicking his tongue with a wry smile.
"Slick bastard. You know I'm desperate so you're gonna use it against me. That's a dirty trick."
"Not a trick. You ever hear of the law of equivalent exchange?"
"Whatever, you fucking weeb, just get on with it."
Izuku stalls, just slightly.
"Can you be a weeb if you're already Asian?"
"My patience is gettin' hella thin here."
"Alright, alright, fine. Why don't you start."
Izuku doesn't expect for Katsuki to freeze up like he does, mouth opening and snapping shut again like a fish out of water as he struggles gather his words. He huffs in frustration, wiping a hand over his face in an attempt to simmer those volatile emotions bubbling deeps inside him.
With a deep breath, he steels himself.
"My old man and hag...are they...you know. Okay?"
Izuku thinks about the nature of the question. They're running a multimillion dollar fashion company and traveling the world every single day to live out their wildest dreams. That counts as okay, right?
"Yeah, they're alright. Happy and healthy."
Katsuki doesn't seem to know if he should be relieved or upset.
"Right. Happy without me there to make them unhappy. Do they, uh...do they ever talk about me?"
Izuku was not as prepared for this conversation as he thought he was.
"Ah...no. Not to me, anyway. To Kirishima, maybe, cause he can't ever seem to remember to stop asking Masaru about 'the wife and kid' like it's not a subject we all purposely tiptoe around." He admits. He's not sure if that's the answer Katsuki is looking for, but he's not here to sugarcoat or cover for whatever wrongs his parents have done to him in the past. He'll be honest---100%.
Katsuki laughs dryly.
"Of course. Who'd want to lose their job for asking if their snot nosed brat is still alive."
"...they don't know that you're alive?"
Katsuki shrugs with a heavy sigh.
"No, no they don't."
This is cause for concern.
But Izuku will let him finish with his questions before he asks any more of his own.
"Are they good people at least? Treat others well?"
Subjective question. Is Mitsuki and loud, brash and vulgar woman who scares the tits off of anyone who looks in her direction for too long? Yep. Not to mention that she's not really one to praise her team for a job well done. She leaves that to the more passive but still equally terrifying Masaru who's specialty is passive aggression and making you sweat.
But they paid their employees well, gave them benefits and made sure they had holidays and every other weekend off.
"They aren't the nicest but they do a damn good job at running this company and making sure we all want to keep working for them so...yes?"
A solemn nod. "I see."
He looks Izuku in the eyes.
"Did you know I was their son when you saw me in the club that night?"
"No." No hesitation.
"Would you stake your mother's life on that?"
"Yes." With crystal certainty.
"And why didn't you rat me out it was me? Why'd you still fuck me?"
Geez. He thought these questions were supposed to be about his parents, not him.
"I fucked you because you're near perfect to look at and fucking gorgeous. I liked that you were a bratty boy and I liked that you were so comfortable in your own skin---in being yourself. That you aren't a damsel; I've never been into those. And I didn't tell because it was none of my business."
Simple as that.
There was no ulterior motive. Not ploy to blackmail him or turn him in. He just liked Katsuki. And he thought that Katsuki liked him, too.
He thought maybe they could venture further into what was meant to be a one night stand and work out the kinks of it all later.
Katsuki seems to be searching his eyes with his own, scrutinizing gaze enough to make a lesser man squirm but Izuku values his honest qualities above all else and he's got no reason to lie to Katsuki.
To his parents, though?
Definitely.
Katsuki doesn't follow up with another question, so Izuku clears his throat to prepare his own.
"Why was this so important to you?"
He scoffs. "I guess I just don't have anyone to talk to my parents about and it helps. Even that sorry excuse of a conversation."
"Do you miss them?"
"Sometimes. It's not ever going to be worth going back, though. Not after what they did.
A pause. Izuku feels as though he should stop while he's ahead.
But he won't.
"What happened between you all? Why did you leave?"
Katsuki gives him a black gaze.
"Pass."
"Wow, that was easy. Here's another: who do you really feel about me?"
Katsuki tilts his head curiously.
"You're sexy and have a big dick. And I like the way you manhandle me and talk to me like a whore."
The freckled man audibly swallows.
"Noted."
"Hey, Deku?"
"Hm?"
"If we fucked right now...would you tell?"
He's closing the gap between them and Izuku can't say he's all that torn up about it. He shakes his head.
"We don't kiss and tell, baby."
"Good. C'mere."
Their lips meet and Izuku grabs a hand full of Katsuki's cotton glad backside.
He'll wait until this is done to remind Katsuki that he failed to answer two of his questions.
"Just lay down for me. I'll take care of you."