Waves↲
Dean Lewis
"It comes and it goes in waves. It always does . . ."
≡
His back slammed hard into the wood, igniting licks of pain to trail over him.
"Dad, stop!"
A harsh kiss of the palm stroked maliciously across his cheek, his mind fogged over.
"Hisashi let him go!"
The world spun and blended around him in a vortex, cradled and cherished memories getting lost in the midst of the chaos. Memories. They scattered and flittered in the wind, in the waves. Scattering . . . drifting . . . drowning . . . gone. He was gone; Izuku was gone.
They were gone.
Izuku gasped and wheezed for air, his lungs spasming and clenching with each distorted breath he took. Beads of sweat kissed his skin in clumps and stray streaks. His vision blurred and came into disfigured gluts—it took a moment for him to realize what was happening, to realize it was all just a dream. A confusing dream.
"Hey," heat spread through his shoulder as Katsuki's eyes pulled his disarrayed vision into focus. "You okay?"
Oh, that was right . . . he was being a dumbass.
Izuku nodded with a groan as the car they rode in jolted him upright, the engine hummed and revved with vehemence as they sped through the streets of Tokyo. The young college student had figured that there would be a great deal of things he would have to do in order to live up his end of the deal he and Katsuki had made: which included going on national television where he would be lying to millions of viewers. Great, right?
He was shocked, to say the very least, when Katsuki had approached him with the news; for the mere thought of having to go through the painstaking process of a televised interview sounded rather unappealing to him. However, after a bit of convincing—and the regretful promise to allow Izuku to draw him for the remainder of the day for however long he wished it—Izuku agreed. Unfortunately, for him, sleep had become somewhat of a rare thing for him ever since he had begun living with Katsuki just a week ago.
They had decided to keep their 'relationship' under wraps for the time being, while Katsuki posted cryptic messages and pictures to his social media accounts hinting at a possible love sparking between him and a mystery person. Which left Izuku to deal with his friends when he had classes. He hated lying to them, despite whatever reason he was doing this for it did not make his deceitfulness any better.
And he would have to do the same to millions.
"You . . . look like shit," Katsuki snickered without thinking, clasping his hand over his mouth. "Have you been getting any sleep?" he asked softly . . . his voice was not supposed to be soft.
"Obviously, I've been getting a perfect eight-hours." Izuku drawled, motioning towards his pale face and dark circles adorning beneath his eyes. "Sorry," he sighed, "I get cranky when I'm tired,"
I know.
Katsuki laughed. "Don't sweat it. I get it, sleeping in an unfamiliar place takes some getting used to,"
"You've slept in unfamiliar places?" Izuku questioned, instantly feeling like a cretin for doing so. "Sorry . . . stupid question. But in my defense I'm functioning off of two and a half hours of sleep here," he chuckled while rubbing his eyes.
"Okay, as soon as we get home you're going to fuckin' bed. No, if's and but's about it,"
The younger grinned mischievously as he leaned in, a taunting glint sparking in his eyes. "You just wanna get out of our drawing sessions. Admit it, you secretly hate them,"
"Then I'd be lying," Katsuki whispered. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn't supposed to be whispering, at least not the way he did it. The elder cleared his throat, leaning back until he was resting against the car window—reluctantly putting distance between himself and the boy he loved. "Besides, I'd be pretty upset if you didn't capture my natural sexiness because you're tired."
Eyebrows rose high on Izuku's face, a coy smile etched onto his lips. "You are so full of it, Rich Boy." he snickered, albeit a playful smile replaced his previous coy one.
Over the course of the past week, Izuku had made it a personal mission to get to know the blond more. More specifically, whenever he was drawing him. Some days they'd have designated time periods complete and utter control over how the male was sitting, looking, etc. While other's were filled with quick five minute sketches while Katsuki played piano, spoke on the phone, or wrote in his elusive song journal.
The very same journal Izuku had been trying to look in for days. However, the red-eyed celebrity seemed pretty adamant about not letting him peek. Nevertheless, Izuku had learned quite a few things in those designated time slots—for he usually bombarded Katsuki with questions until his head spun.
Not that Katsuki minded.
"Oh, shit," Izuku groaned once more as his face fell into his hands. "I have a paper due tomorrow at five,"
"And let me guess—" Katsuki shook his head with a grin, "—you haven't started?"
The younger shrugged, his mouth pressed firmly together. "What can I say? Procrastination and I go way back," he said slowly, "I know that bitch like the back of my hand."
For emphasis, Izuku held his hand out in the air—frowning when he noticed a small cut he had not seen before. So much for that comment. However, the cut was least of Katsuki's worries for his sole focus was on the small ring secured around the younger's finger. Katsuki's ring to be exact, the same one he had given to the boy years ago. It was a silver ring band and wide with no jewel whatsoever, except small embroidered engravings into it instead.
Their engagement ring.
"Oh," Izuku followed the elder's line of sight. "Pretty, huh? I can't remember where I got it, but I've had it forever now," he chuckled, twirling the ring around on his finger.
It's okay, I know you don't remember.
Katsuki grinned despite the tightness that had begun to clench his throat, ignoring the bitter liquid that plotted against him as he blinked back the tears. "Yeah, it's nice," he hummed, eyes darting elsewhere. "Oh, look we're here!"
The building was rather large, an electronic screen flashed violently on the front: Katsuki Bakugou making a guest appearance . . . With new mystery lover?
"Shit," a sudden revelation had just prevailed to the boy. "We don't have a backstory!"
Katsuki blanched as a short laugh escaped him. "A what?"
"You know, a backstory. Aren't they going to be curious as to how we met? How we started 'dating' and all that other shit."
The blond nodded his head slowly, choking back the flare of grief and pain that clawed against his skin. Truth be told, he had not given that part of their 'fake relationship' a thought—he had been fixated on having Izuku back for the past week, relishing in the time they spent together. It was nearly comical to think about now, he should have known the younger would be giving this ordeal such intricate and calculated details. That's just who he was.
Katsuki was glad that much hadn't changed in the past three years.
"Okay," he leaned in, wrapping his arm around the back of Izuku's seat. "We've known each other our whole lives, we grew up together. We were best friends throughout our childhood and started dating when you were twelve and I was fourteen—" Katsuki watched as Izuku's eyes shifted, becoming slightly defocused as he took in the information.
"—but a few months after your fifteenth birthday we broke up." he heaved a wavering sigh, "My music career was kicking off, I was starting to travel around and it put a toll on our relationship. Then we ran into each other last month . . . and just re-kindled what we started all those years ago,"
The first part of the story had been truthful, even if Izuku didn't know it.
It had become unmistakably quiet after that. Izuku, like many times since he had first gotten to know the man, had found himself completely and utterly and indefatigably transfixed on those damn eyes. Those very same eyes that had partly been the cause of his newly obtained insomnia; the same eyes he had spent countless hours drawing and trying to perfect; those eyes that had plagued his dreams in the most perplexing of ways.
He adored them. For there was one undeniable fact about Katsuki's eyes that Izuku knew: they held many secrets in them, pain, and loss. Izuku could tell.
Someone old and philosophical had once said: the human body is the best picture of the human soul. Katsuki's body and everything that entailed it was breathtaking—his body told a plethora of untold stories. So, what of his soul?
"You've obviously put some thought into that," Izuku chuckled breathily, averting his gaze as the vehicle pulled to a stop. "Guess I have nothing to worry about then."
Katsuki's lips tilted into an unnoticeable frown. "Guess so,"
The interview went by rather slowly once they arrived on set. Katsuki had done his best to coach Izuku in the dressing rooms about questions that are most likely to pop up frequently and how to answer them. It was a long process considering the fact that the boy was shaking like a clam most of the time, however, he managed to get it done. Finally, when it came time for them to go live Izuku did well—especially for his first time doing anything like that.
Katsuki had been on edge through most of the interview, constantly observing Izuku's expressions and reactions while doing the same for the show's hostess. It had been the same woman from the previous month, the very same woman who had so shamelessly flirted with him. Which did nothing to calm his spiking nerves.
A wave of impression and awe had crept over him, nevertheless, for Izuku had been so exceptionally well. He knew the boy hated lying with a vehement power, however, it was not hard to see that he was good at doing so. Placing a comforting hand on Katsuki's thigh at the right times; gazing into his eyes with fascination, whereas the audience would perceive it as adoration; easily avoiding answering certain questions he wasn't sure of while answering a different one. Izuku was a natural. Which also made Katsuki wonder—
"That was intense," Izuku groaned as they entered the car. "If I ever do another one of those things again in the next decade it'll be too soon."
Katsuki chuckled, rubbing the boy's back. "You know what you need?"
"Coffee?"
"Coffee,"
Izuku beamed at the thought as he curled up on the corner of his seat. "I swear it's like you can read my mind, Rich Boy. Coffee it is!" he exclaimed with a weak punch to the air.
"Are you ever going to let go of that damn nickname?" Katsuki sighed as he quickly instructed the driver on where to go. "It's getting pretty fucking annoying,"
"Hmmm . . . Nope!"
Hello Cricket Cultists!!
Don't mind me just questioning my writing in this chapter while loving it at the same time--
Ahhhhhh Guys. Guys. Guys. So, I know this book is going to have 20 chapters in total . . . *inhales* 9 more to go . . . Don't worry . . . You guys won't suffer for long . . . ;)
IT'S ALL PIECING TOGETHER!! MUAH HAHAHAHAH MUAH HAHAH-- *Starts coughing*
Questions for me, about anything at this point?
Until we meet again!!!