Chapter Text
Izuku had four constants in his life.
Work , he was a frustrated manga editor for a recognized shonen manga department drowning in paperwork and dramatic authors. Smoking , he picked up the habit early on in college but he swears he only smokes cigarettes when he is anxious which is virtually most of the time. Bakugo Katsuki , who was the person that came in and out of his life when he pleased because Katsuki did whatever he wanted. And being forgettable , at least that is what his insecurities made him think when he looked at himself in the mirror and remembered how plain he was. Oh, also because Katsuki seemed to possess the ability of making him feel that way from time to time.
It was important for him to have things figured out. He liked thinking that life was a set of boxes. He had his work box, his family box, his friends box when in the office, his friends box when outside of the office. Everything was compartmentalized in its respective space where nothing he didn’t want to cross over could never cross over. He even had a miscellaneous box for people and things that he didn’t know how to feel about. Like Katsuki, again. The need to have control and organize his life in a way that was manageable made him feel like he knew where he was going. This obsession worked as consolation for the things he knew he couldn’t control. Like the fact that Uraraka was late in her submission for the next volume of Smash, a spinoff of the All Might manga.
Don’t get him wrong. He understood that life happens, that accidents happen, that sometimes people’s wishes don't go as planned. But if Uraraka was late for the deadline their editor in chief had imposed, then that meant that Izuku would have to cram his edits just to make it to his deadline on time. He had been working as an editor of the Shonen department for the last 4 years, climbing his way to become head of the department at only twenty seven. That accomplishment didn’t come from him fucking around in the office and getting his work in late.
He was adamant about having a near-perfect work ethic and tended to come off as a hardass when demanding work from his writers. He praised Iida for the lack of headaches, the man was always at least three days early on his submissions. He tolerated Shoto because he could rest assured that his friend would have his chapters done by 11:59pm the day of his deadlines. However, he battled Uraraka for having her head in the clouds and never submitting her pages on time but two days later. Uraraka’s Smash spinoff was the most important work his company had published since the early 90’s when All Might Adventures had become the most read piece of literature in Japan.
From: [email protected]
Subject: WHERE.IS.IT.
Ochaco,
I swear to all gods above that if I don’t have your manuscript on my desk by EOD I’ll rip my hair off and announce that you are going on hiatus. Got marketing on speed dial so they can tweet about it.
Best,
Midoriya.
From: [email protected]
RE: WHERE.IS.IT.
Deku-kun,
I AM SO SORRY PLEASE DON’T TELL THAT TO MARKETING!
I promise you’ll have the chapter by today. I was just freaking out about a scene but Todoroki helped me out and I am fired up.
Xoxo,
Uraraka
From: [email protected]
RE:RE: WHERE.IS.IT.
Ochaco, I am your editor, not Shoto! If you are stuck you just have to talk to me. I am literally sitting in the office in front of you.
Not best,
Midoriya
Izuku looked up to stare at Uraraka from inside his office. As the head of the department he had a separated section from the cubicles in the floor. He could see the brunette pop her head above the laminated wall to look into the ceiling high window of his office. When they made eye contact he raised a single eyebrow to show how unimpressed he was with the whole ordeal, he saw her mustering up a wobbly smile in response. He sighed out loud and buried his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up to his forehead in the process. He looked back up to see her still staring, unsure of what to do. He lifted his hand and bent his fingers towards him as a sign for her to come in.
“Izuku, I swear I’ll have the chapter done. No doubt,” she said as she opened the heavy glass door to step in. She moved quickly towards the chair on the other side of his desk and sat down.
“I don’t doubt you will have the chapter done. What I doubt is you actually saying that you were working on it with the help of Shoto, and I also doubt that you will have it for today,” he answered while flopping back, making his chair lean back as well.
“Look, I know you have zero hope in me, but I really am trying here. There was a plot line I was stuck with but now it is unstuck!” She smiled. “Also, since we are friends and friends don’t lie. I have to admit I got a little tiny bit distracted by some exciting news, that’s all,” she said, raising her hands in surrender.
“I knew it! Working with Shoto my ass. Ochaco, how many times do I have to tell you that if you are late, I have less days to edit your stuff,” he whined.
“I know, but my deadline was just this morning. It’s not like I would submit my work a week later,” she said with a chuckle. Izuku wanted to protest how she had done that exact same thing in the past but decided against it.
“Are you going to share the exciting news? I’m curious now,” he said. Ochaco let out a soft laugh, not impressed by how easygoing Izuku actually was under the annoyed-editor facade he kept on around the office.
“There is this band Iida-kun and I really like. They are originally from Japan, and their world tour ends here. Apparently they arrived early this morning to Tokyo,” she said, her legs bouncing up and down matching the excitement of her smile.
“Oh, that actually sounds fun! Are you guys going to see them?”
“Yes! We got tickets for their last show of the tour, in Kawagoe. We try to see them every time they come back,” she said.
“Kawagoe? That’s where I am from,” Izuku said. He started connecting the dots to where this conversation was going.
“I know! The front man of the band is also from there. Iida and I try to go to all the Kawagoe shows because Velvet releases an original song as a closing act for their tours,” she explained. “It is so hard getting tickets for their last shows. But we signed up for the pre-sale so we snatched some tickets as fast as we could!”
Velvet. He knew plenty of people who liked their music, but this was the first time he heard his friend be so enthusiastic about it. He wondered how Ochaco would react if he told her he grew up with Katsuki and his bandmates back in Kawagoe. If what Ochaco had said was true, and Katsuki had arrived early this morning to Tokyo, he wondered how she would react if Izuku told her that he might see the frontman later tonight.
“Do you listen to Velvet, Deku-kun?”
“Not particularly, I don’t really listen to that genre of music,” he said and offered a sweet smile. Back in Kawagoe where he had spent all his childhood up until moving away to Tokyo for college, he was constantly surrounded by the distinctive synth of 80’s love songs. Growing up with a hopeless romantic as a mother had heavily influenced his music taste, enough to own vinyl collection records of Richard Marx, Kim Wild, Berlin, and others just to blast them in his one-bedroom apartment. He remembered being teased a lot during college by his classmates when they would go out clubbing and Izuku would have a hard time recognizing the songs playing in the loud speakers. It wasn’t like he hated modern music, he didn’t want to come off as a snob. He just really enjoyed getting lost in the lyrics and tunes of those old songs, it made him feel like his life could be a movie. But that would ultimately lead to wishful thinking on most occasions.
“Oh, too bad! We got four tickets because Iida and I were scared that one of us wouldn’t make it to the live sales. So, we both ended up getting a pair. I was going to invite you and Todoroki-kun to come along!”
Izuku looked at his friend with a grateful stare.
“I think I’ll pass, but I’ll let you know if I am feeling up for it.”
It wasn’t likely that he would change his mind. The last time he had gone to one of Katsuki’s shows was when he and his band were playing in shitty venues back in the Kawagoe around nine years ago. In sticky wooden stages with lonely and slow crowds in rustic looking bars where no one would pay them any mind. Izuku would sit on the bar stools looking at Katsuki with stars in his eyes. He would write down lyric suggestions, jot down comments from customers around him that would throw compliments during hushed conversations. He used to be their number one fan.
...
When Izuku decided to leave work, he was greeted by the refreshing wisps of a drizzle. He reached out to open his umbrella and went down the steps of the publisher’s main entrance into the busy sidewalk of the boulevard. Even with the light rain, the sky was clear enough to see the way the sunset was squeezing within the rows of countless Tokyo buildings. The rays of the afternoon sun bled into the streets and reflected onto the puddles accumulated in the crosswalks. The watercolor sky mixed in shades of yellows and angry reds reminded him of the set of eyes that were sure to visit him later. Kacchan hates the rain.
He wondered what time Katsuki would arrive at his apartment. Should he stop by to get his favorite beer from the convenience store close to his apartment, or would that seem too eager of him? Izuku stopped at the red light to let traffic go by. He looked up and was greeted with a banner ad on the bus promoting Velvet's world tour. A picture of Katsuki pouring his heart on stage was on display, his rose petal tattoos scattered down his left arm as he gripped the mic stand as his life depended on it. Had he really been so distracted that he had missed the announcement of the Japan dates of the tour? He didn’t really keep up with the shows for starters, but he would’ve at least seen a post on his social media about it. Katsuki could’ve texted him as well. But who was he kidding, Katsuki would never come announced.
Izuku and his childhood best friend had a routine for the last couple years. It had started early into his junior year of college when Katsuki started to book shows in different cities around Japan with his band. Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Mina and Katsuki would produce albums as fast as possible so they could have the chance to tour and promote their music. That meant Katsuki was rarely in Tokyo throughout the year, and with the stress of papers and lectures it was inconvenient for Izuku to travel around the country like a groupie to attend all the shows. So every once in a while, those lucky weeks in which Katasuki and his friends would return to the city to record and practice, the blond one would spend every night at Izuku’s.
At first it was exciting to have his best friend stop by every night. They would talk for hours about the tours, the things that happened backstage at shows, Katsuki would complain about the tour bus from time to time, and the blond one would always try to show Izuku songs he was working on. But as the years went by, Izuku found himself conflicted with Katsuki just randomly showing up unannounced at his place. Katsuki might be a constant in his life, but something Izuku definitely wasn’t able to control. Being around the singer was a constant game of guessing. When will he call? When will he stop by, what time? What will he talk about? What will he do when he sees Izuku? What will happen for the next three weeks that Katsuki was Japan bound? It was just shit that kept Izuku on his toes. The uncertainty was sure to take a toll on the frustrated editor, just like it had been accumulating for the last three times Katsuki and the band were settled in Japan.
Now, 7 years later, Izuku made his way to the convenience store to get the Sapporo beer for Katsuki. Fuck it, he would definitely need the drink. The bell above the door jingled to announce his entry and he politely greeted the cashier behind the counter, a young boy that seemed to be in high school. Izuku wandered across the store until he reached the drinks cooler and grabbed a six-pack of the brown beer bottles. Should I bring a second six pack? He walked away shaking his head. God knows what dumb shit could happen if he and Katsuki were to get drunk off beer on a Friday night.
He propped the beers on the counter and fished for his wallet.
“It will be 1,300 yen,” the boy said with a smile.
When Izuku pushed the plastic blue tray with the money towards the store worker, his eyes caught a glimpse of the rack of magazines behind the boy. He could see the latest edition of Rolling Stones with a picture of Katsuki’s band as the cover. Katsuki was front and center with Denki and Mina leaning on each of his shoulders, while Kirishima and Sero being the tallest were placed on the back of the group shot. It was a sea of black leather, red accents, and more eyeliner than Izuku would ever consider wearing. It was a little bizarre to think that was the same boy he would hang out with every day since they were babies, Katsuki had really gone and done it.
The cashier noticed Izuku’s stare and turned to see what the green haired man was fixating on. He let out a chuckle and turned back to Izuku.
“Heard they are back in town! You dig ‘em?”
Izuku was shaken out of his trance and focused back on the cashier.
“Not really my type of music.”
“Bummer,” the boy replied with a shrug. Izuku looked at him for a second and then glanced back at the magazine.
“How much for it?”
After paying for the magazine, Izuku headed straight to his apartment. He hugged the pack of beer close to his chest with the arm that was holding the umbrella, and made a clumsy attempt to reach out for his phone. He scrolled mindlessly through the messages he hadn’t had the chance to read during the day. His mom had texted him about the tree she had planted in their house back in Kawagoe. She wanted to get a head start and finally commit to having a fruit garden. He had a couple messages from the office group chat, probably Ochaco planning to go for drinks during the weekend. Some scattered texts with promo codes and coupons. However, nothing from Katsuki. Izuku let out a sight and wondered how much time he had left before Kacchan knocked on his door and pinned him against a wall. He should probably shower again when he gets home .
...
Izuku made his way out of the bathroom with a towel hanging low on his hips and droplets of water falling from the tips of his wet dark hair. Steamed poured out of the shower and into the apartment, making his skin uncomfortable with the humidity.
He walked down the hallway towards his record player, bent down to skim through his extensive collection until his eyes landed on the album he usually listens to when he wants to relax. Relaxing was exactly what he needed at the moment. Izuku placed the vinyl on the player and adjusted the stylus over the carved lines of the record. The soothing sound of Alone Again by Kiyotaka Sugiyama infiltrated the apartment, the tuned whistles and the chimes over the iconic synth made him close his eyes for a second to appreciate it.
Making his way towards his bedroom, he let his towel drop by the bed and quickly went to get dressed. Black briefs, some basketball shorts and a vintage All Might shirt he was sure Katsuki would tease him about. After that he grabbed the towel again and shook it wildly though his damp curls before hanging it behind the bathroom’s door.
Izuku walked to the middle of his living room and looked around, hands buried deep into his pockets. He had been living in his apartment for the last couple years, when he could afford to live in the middle of Tokyo without the help of a roommate. Izuku had worked hard on making his apartment feel like home, the light wooden floors and white walls made it look spacious and clean, until Izuku got bored of it and painted the widest wall of his living room a pale yellow. He had a fuzzy white rug underneath the coffee table in the living room which he loved to sit on. Plus, an array of house plants decorating almost every corner of the house with long stems and deep, forest green, heavy leaves falling to the sides.
What could he do to kill time while waiting for Katsuki? He supposed he could put on a movie or show . No, he had music playing already. But the music wasn’t really working to keep his nerves at bay so he did the next best thing. He grabbed his messenger bag from the loveseat and looked around for his lighter and cigarettes.
He walked towards the window furthest from the rest of his apartment. He placed the cigarette in between his lips and brought the lighter close to the end of the stick, cupping his hand around the flame so it wouldn’t die with the wind. The first inhale always hitted the right places. He could feel the smoke travel down his lungs and working his way through his system. God, nothing could feel better than a smoke right then and there.
Izuku could see the night sky covering the city, the aggressive shine of the billboards and the chatter from the people below mixing with the album playing in the back helped calm him down. He wasn’t nervous about Katsuki visiting him. As said before, they have been childhood friends for the longest time. Plus, Kacchan visited Tokyo enough for them to not act like total strangers. They. Were. Friends.
The problem was that Katsuki was unpredictable. Too unpredictable sometimes for Izuku’s liking. He could arrive in the next five minutes or in the next two hours. Maybe he wouldn’t stop by at all! Kacchan had the ability to keep Izuku on his toes, and he didn’t like that. He didn’t like the suspense of waiting on Katsuki. Would he call when he is downstairs to let Izuku know? Would he knock on the door and yell at Izuku from the outside? Would he ring the doorbell like a regular person? Who the fuck knows.
Izuku put out the cigarette in the green glass ashtray he kept near the window, a present from Katsuki the last time he had been in town. He made his way to the kitchen while lighting a second cigarette. He started rummaging through his cupboards in the quest of finding some instant ramen to cook in the meantime, enough for two in case Kacchan was hungry as well.
While dropping the noodles in the boiling water he heard a faint knocking on his door drowned by the sound of water bubbles bursting in the pot and the ongoing background music he had been playing for the last half hour.
Izuku scattered to turn off the flame, his knuckles banging against the solid metal of the stove. He tripped on thin air as he rushed again towards the ashtray. God, he hated putting out unfinished cigarettes, it felt like a waste. And as he made his way to his front door to greet who he hoped was Katsuki, he saw his reflection in the mirror hanging by the wall near the genkan. He ran his fingers underneath his curls near his neck to bring them to life, and separated his bangs with his index and thumb fingers pinching the hair to fluff it on top of his forehead.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He whispered to himself and made a disgusted face to his reflection.
Izuku let out a heavy sigh and readied himself to swing the door open.
“Honey, I am home,” Katsuki said with his signature smirk. His bulky arm was leaning against the door frame as he looked down at Izuku. Izuku bit his tongue to contain the stampede of questions that were going haywire on his brain, he supposed he could drill his friend later.
There was something about looking up at Katsuki that made Izuku feel small and shy. Katsuki had always been taller than him, since they were kids, but not by much. Both of them were considered tall, Katsuki being around 6 '0 and him falling two inches shorter. Izuku glanced up between his bangs. Katsuki looked good, so good. His dark carmine eyes were darker under the dim light of his building’s hallway. Residue eyeliner framing his sharp gaze making them look smokey. His towering, built frame was covered by a thick-looking flannel and his signature skull black shirt underneath. Izuku wondered if he was hot under all that. He wondered why Katsuki hadn't texted him. He wondered if Katsuki was tired from the flight, or hungry for a homemade meal, or excited to see him.
“You think this is a hotel?” Izuku said, reaching out to grab the beers Katsuki had brought. Well, and there goes my effort for not getting fucked up tonight .
“Come on, Deku. What are you gonna do? Kick me out?” Katsuki tilted his head to the side in mock-curiosity.
Izuku rolled his eyes and flicked his friend's forehead as punishment. As Katsuki took his shoes off by the genkan, Izuku made his way toward the kitchen to store the extra beer alongside the one he got earlier in the fridge. He took two bottles out of the pack.
“Why didn’t you say you were stopping by?” Izuku said as he closed the fridge and joined Katsuki in the living room handing him one of the beers.
“Because I never do,” Katsuki said with a wink and a smile. Izuku saw him take off his flannel and let it fall messily by the couch. Izuku ran his eyes down the expanse of Katsuki’s arms, catching a glimpse of the rose petals tattooed down his left arm all the way to his wrist.
“As I said, this is not a hotel, Kacchan. You can’t just drop by whenever you want. What if I had guests? What if I was not home? What if I had moved?” Izuku said as he picked up Katsuki’s flannel and settled it on the back of one of the chairs by his makeshift dining room in the corner. The nerve of the guy .
“First of all, you are my best friend, that gives me the right to stop by whenever I want. Second, if you had guests I wouldn’t give a fuck, I brought beer to share. Lastly, if you were not here or moved I would’ve known. I know everything,” Katsuki said, taking a swing of his drink.
Izuku only stared at him. Unpredictable.
“Also you must have known I was coming over. The Japan dates start this weekend for the next three weeks. Plus, reporters were mobbing the fucking airport this morning,” Katsuki said and sat down on the couch. Izuku set the beer by the table and jogged to the kitchen to check on the ramen.
“You want food?” He yelled and received a faint yes from the other room.
“I was not keeping up with the tour dates. I found out from Ochaco because she is going to your show in Kawagoe and had a fangirl episode because you landed in Tokyo,” Izuku sighed. He reached one of the ramen bowls towards Katsuki and sat next to him on the couch.
“Deku, you wound me,” Katsuki said and filled his mouth with noodles right away.
“Don’t fucking tell me you don’t keep up with dates. It’s enough to know that you don’t go to the shows. Why aren’t you more like this Ochaco and come to Kawagoe?”
“Because I’m busy, Kacchan. And I have the real thing right here, just sing to me,” Izuku said.
“You’ll miss my performance for the last show of the tour,” Katsuki grumbled and drank more of the beer.
Izuku had spent the day telling people how Velvet’s music wasn’t his taste. It wasn’t inherently lying, but it was a lie because he did listen to Katsuki’s band religiously. From the moment Katsuki started writing music when they were in high school to the last album he and his band put out, Izuku had heard every song, learnt every lyric and bought every album’s vinyl version to play it loudly in the apartment. But the only thing he didn’t allow himself to do was go to shows.
“I bet you haven’t written the last song yet! I bet the band is freaking out because you’ll be done with it like a day before, and they’ll have to cram practice,” Izuku laughed. “You and Ochaco should definitely meet, she pulls the same shit with me.”
Katsuki slurped on the noodles and sent an annoyed glare at Izuku. The shorter one only laughed and nudged his shoulder.
When Katsuki comes to town Izuku hardly feels like months have passed since the last time they saw each other. Their friendship would pick up as soon as Katsuki stepped foot in the apartment, time felt like it hadn’t gone by. That is why when talking about constants in life, it was safe to say that Katsuki would always be one in Izuku’s. Imagining a life without the loud blond man seemed impossible, and something Izuku didn’t like to dwell on for the fear of uncertainty. Having Katsuki, here, next to him, in this tiny domestic setting, was in a wicked way Izuku’s picture of stability. Because as much as he called Katsuki unpredictable in his head, he is never talking about their actual friendship. Falling back to the childish and petty games when they were kids, to the sneaky and adventurous spirit of their teenage years, to the maturity and ambition of their early twenties, was like falling into safe and known territory.
They spent the night talking about Katsuki’s bandmates and events of the tour. Katsuki mentioned the new record of drumsticks Kirishima had broken, 17 pairs in 6 months. He recounted the way Mina and Denki were kicked out of their hotel because management thought they were a couple of groupies trying to sneak into their floor. Apparently a very awkward conversation to have with the head of security and hotel manager. He also told Izuku about a vintage record store he and Sero had stumbled on and how the bass player had to help him carry all the bags of shit Katsuki had bought. Katsuki confessed he had bought many albums and that they were all for him. Izuku blushed and said it was too much. Katsuki insisted that he should stop by his apartment to listen to them and then take them home in the morning when he left. Izuku told him he would think about it.
Izuku told him about his days at the office. He vented his frustrations about Ochaco’s habit of submitting late drafts of her work. He also gave Katsuki spoilers for the next volume of Smash because the blond one was an avid fan. Izuku told him about Todoroki wanting to go for dinner later next week and asked Katsuki if he would like to join, he just scoffed and rolled his eyes. Izuku took that as a no . He mentioned how he thinks he will get a promotion because the editor in chief of the manga department as a whole was retiring, but how afraid he was to take it because he liked working only with the shonen department. Katsuki ruffled his hair and praised him but told him to not sweat it until he had an actual offer letter.
Izuku talked about his mom and how they should both visit Kawagoe and have a family dinner. Katsuki didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea, but Izuku didn’t question him because it didn’t feel right. Then Katsuki insisted that Izuku should drive to Kawagoe with him in the morning of the last show and watch it from the side of the stage. It was Izuku’s turn to look away and get uncomfortable at the invitation. Katsuki changed the topic and talked about getting a new tattoo and Izuku jumped at the idea of brainstorming something with him.
Hours passed as they caught up. Too invested in conversation to notice the twelve bottles of beer littered in the living room, the butts of cigarettes accumulating in the ashtray, the proximity of their faces as they argued about if Izuku should move or stay in his tiny apartment. Even with the unavoidable pockets of silence when their conversations took unintentional wrong turns, they didn’t let the awkwardness consume the jitters of excitement of being in the same room together.
“Are you falling asleep on me, Deku?” Katsuki asked as he looked into Izuku’s heavy green eyes. He leaned closer, sneaking his hand behind Izuku’s waist and his arm under his thighs to prop him on top of his lap.
“I didn’t come here to sleep,” Katsuki whispered close to his face
Izuku looked at Katsuki with a knowing look.
“Then let’s not sleep, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered back, resting his forehead against the other’s. He brought his hand close to Katsuki’s face and held his jaw. Izuku traced his thumb against Katsuki’s bottom lip, then his top one, and finally rubbed it against his defined cheekbone.
Izuku could see Katsuki’s eyes lingering on his face, he wondered if he liked the array of freckles that lingered on his pale skin, if his eyes were as captivating as Katsuki’s. With so many years of being this close and personal, Katsuki had never said anything about his looks. He wondered if the blond one thought he was attractive, or handsome. Because sure as hell, Izuku thought those things about Kacchan.
Katsuki swatted Izuku’s hand away and stood up. Izuku fell to the side cushion and was left dumbfounded, sitting on his legs as he waited for the other’s next move. Katsuki stretched his arms above his head, his back turned to Izuku, and he started to make his way to the kitchen. Izuku could only stare as the blond one walked around the house as if he owned it. Katsuki had stopped by the fridge to grab a bottle of water. He opened it and immediately started chugging down the cold drink. Izuku could hear Katsuki’s throat swallowing, it was a loud sound that matched the way his Adam's apple moved up and down his stretched neck. Izuku wanted to lick it .
When Katsuki was done with the bottle and threw it away, he exited the kitchen and spared a look towards Izuku with a raised eyebrow as he made his way to the bedroom. You coming? Izuku slowly stood up. He stopped by the record player to swap the vinyl that had been playing for the past hour. She’s Like the Wind by Patrick Swayze started playing loudly in the apartment. The mellow piano notes accompanied by the sound of guitars and synth made Katsuki stop for a second by the doorframe. Izuku pushed down the dust cover shut and made his way to the bedroom, watching Katsuki walk towards the end of his bed and looking around. He was sure his neighbors would prefer some old school music over the loud noises of him and his childhood friend going at it
He must have left a window open because the sheer curtains were dancing with the breeze. From the hallway he could see Katsuki’s shape in the faded darkness. Izuku looked at his wide shoulders and how his hair looked pearly white under the moonlight.
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done
That was Bakugo Katsuki, famous singer with dozens of music awards, with a whole-ass world tour going on that even his best friends were dying to attend to, and here he was. In Izuku’s comfortable Tokyo apartment taking his shirt off and giving Izuku a full view of the buffalo horns tattooed on his back.
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
In a trance, Izuku stood by the doorframe of his room looking at Katsuki undress himself. The shirt landed in a corner of his room, and his baggy streetwear-style jeans were dangling dangerously low on Katsuki’s hips showing a strip of his black briefs. Izuku saw from behind how the pants slid down Katsuki’s long, muscular legs leaving goosebumps on his tanned skin and pooling at the bottom of his feet. Katsuki turned his face and looked at Izuku over his shoulder.
Knowing that their routine of seeing each other every time Katsuki was in town was consistent, the things that they did when Katsuki was in town also remained that way. Izuku, like a regular office worker, would be busy throughout the mornings and afternoons. Katsuki would be doing press events and pre-recorded interviews in the morning, to then spend the rest of his afternoons practicing with the band and catching up with his parents. That only left night time for them to be together.
They would drive at night around the city blasting songs in playlists Katsuki would compile for Izuku. They would go out to their favorite clubs and bars to dance, let loose, and pretend they are something that they will never be. They could do anything they wanted to do with the reassurance that they will always come back to Izuku’s place. They would stumble through the dark apartment only lit by the faint glow of street lights coming through the windows, reach the wide and comfortable bed as they shared longing kisses filled with hunger and want. Because Katsuki and him didn’t exist outside of walls, outside of hushed rooms and street alleys. They didn’t exist in between groups of mutual friends and sunrises bathed in gold.
They breathed each other, touched each other, and saw each other in the dead of night .