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Katsuki stands in line at his local convenience store at Ass O’Clock in the morning with a handheld basket hanging off his arm, carting four simple items.
Now, any other night, he would be tucked comfortably inside the abyss of his bed and absolutely dead to the world for another several hours. Much to his dismay, this is not one of those nights. Because his dick of a roommate decided to wake him up and beg the blond to go out and get him fucking cold medicine .
And Eijirou has the audacity to call himself a man.
If Katsuki didn’t have to deal with the redhead loudly complaining for the next several days, he would have gone right back to bed. But he knows better than to do that; that would only result in making the explosive man even more miserable than normal in having to deal with that shit.
So, the slender man forced himself out of bed, but not without a few choice words, and walked the short distance to the shop.
Katsuki glances up from his phone, eyeing the line of customers before huffing in frustration. He shifts his weight around, his annoyance clear as day in his posture as he throws a look over his shoulder.
The length of the remaining line mimics what’s in front of him.
Jesus fucking Christ.
In what fucking world is it normal to have this many people in the store at this hour?
Rolling his bright red eyes, the blond redirects his attention back to his phone. Damn, he really wishes he had grabbed his headphones before he left the apartment in a fit of rage.
“Saichiro… just know that I’m saying this to you as a friend,” the short, white-haired girl in front of Katsuki begins to say hesitantly.
For a split second, he lets his gaze flick up to analyze the conversation subtly.
Two girls, the one that just made a terrifying starting statement, and Saichiro, a taller, violet-haired girl. Friends by the sound of it that can’t be any older than sixteen.
Teenagers.
The blond has to hold back an audible scoff.
Don’t they have curfews?
Katsuki minds his manners and looks away before he looks like a fucking ephebophile, but carefully decides to keep his ears open. Just in case.
“Look. I know , okay, Tamaro? Just… give me a minute,” the response is laced with irritation.
He sees Saichirou furiously typing on her phone out of his peripheral before she leans over Tamaro’s shoulder.
“Show me the picture again,” she demands, her friend fumbling for her own device to hand over.
The violet-haired girl snatches it and inspects the screen at every angle, frowning the entire time.
She pops her tongue against her teeth as venom seeps bone-deep into her next words, “He really fucking—”
Saichiro doesn’t hand the phone back, instead continues to double-fist them and starts typing on hers even more rapidly. Angry mumbles are falling out of her mouth, while Tamaro hoovers nervously.
“Can you check his location?”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? It’s been off for five hours and he hasn’t answered a single text.”
Hm.
This is going very downhill, very quickly.
Katsuki is broken out of his concentration as he feels a gentle tug on his shirt and a soft, ‘Hey.’ floats to his ears.
The blond lets out an instinctive growl as he turns to the pestering source.
But he isn’t ready for all the air in his lungs to be violently sucked out when he makes eye contact with the person standing in line behind him.
The first thing he notices is green .
Emerald eyes are shining back at him, bouncing back and forth between him and the two girls in an amused manner. The man has a black cap pulled on with a mess of viridian curls poking out from underneath. There are large, round glasses perched on his nose and a mask covering the lower half of his face. But Katsuki can see small hints of freckles dancing across the top of his cheeks.
“Two thousand yen he’s cheating on her.”
“Hah?” is the most intelligent response the blond can muster.
The smaller man subtly nods his head forward to the two frantic females whose conversation is steadily getting louder.
“Photographic evidence, no communication, and no location.”
Katsuki’s eyes slowly drift head again before his brain finally reboots. A teasing smirk spreads across his lips as he takes the bait.
He shifts sideways to give the greenette more room to see the teenagers around his large stature as he leans down to whisper, “Three thousand yen that it’s with her best friend.”
The smaller male sucks in a breath, a scarred hand flying up to cover his mouth, despite the mask.
“So we’re going to play dirty,” he giggles, and the blond’s chest convulses at the sweet sound.
Just as Katsuki is ready to fire another line in retaliation — because he’s about going to sweep this bitch clean off his fucking feet — the man grips his shirt again and yanks harshly, “Wait, look.”
The red-eyed looks just in time to see Saichiro raising her phone to her ear, her posture advertising nothing but anger. “Rai, you better have a good fucking excuse for whatever you’re about to tell me.”
“Think it’s her partner?” the greenette asks in a dangerously excited tone as he shakes Katsuki’s arm.
“Without a doubt.” The blond gently removes the male from his attire, trading the physical contact to place his hand on the other’s lower back and bringing the other in step with him.
“Don’t you dare try to pull that shit on me, Rai,” the girl’s words are said through clenched teeth. “I‘m not as stupid as you fucking think I am.”
And just before Katsuki thinks the night can’t get any better, Taramo lets out a panicked squawk and waves her phone around frantically.
“Keiko’s calling me!”
“Who’s Keiko?” the mystery man hisses like he hates being left out of the plot.
The taller male tries to hide the amused smile from the other’s childish behavior.
“Answer the damn phone, Taramo!” Saichiro barks, not bothering to pull her phone away from her before shouting.
The white-haired girl whimpers, but does as she’s told. “H-hey Keiko.”
“Taramo— Don’t— Give me that!” the taller girl violently grabs her friend’s device and shoves her own phone into the other’s hand, “Keep him on the fucking line.”
“Here we go,” Katsuki whispers.
“Keiko— no, shut the hell up for once, because frankly, I don’t fucking care what you have to say to me right now. Out of anyone that could have done this, it had to be you. Do I really mean that little to you? ”
“Definitely the best friend,” the other man hums, nodding along solemnly like he’s watching some Greek tragedy and not a saga going down in a local supermarket.
Katsuki scoffs in agreement, diverting his own attention to see how Taramo is holding up on the other line.
“I-I have nothing good to say to you, Rai,” she starts, and the blond thinks for a minute that she can hold her own.
The attentive pair flinches as Saichiro’s voice spikes in volume and betrayal as she continues to yell at Keiko.
“Does that answer your question?” the white-haired girl snaps into the receiver.
The greenette pops his teeth in disapproval. “He probably asked if Saichiro is mad. As if he doesn’t know what he just did.”
Katsuki’s eyebrows pinch and his lip slants in a smirk at the utter investment this guy has for teen angst.
A new voice cuts through the heavy tension in the air, “Are you guys ready to check out or not?”
The cashier doesn’t seem as entertained by the girls as the blond and his new companion. The taller man has half a mind to think that it’s not the first time he’s had to deal with bullshit like this.
Saichiro holds up her hand like she’s about to answer the clerk, but freezes as more audio crackles through the phone. Taramo is anxiously fiddling her fingers, awaiting her friend's reaction, eyes refusing to land on anything for too long.
The greenette squeaks, reaching behind him to grab at the back of Katsuki’s shirt. The blond is slowly leaning back, almost wanting to distance himself from the teen that rivals his anger.
Both of them are completely still, almost afraid to move and potentially rift the tension.
Suddenly, Saichiro clears her throat and hangs the phone up without another word.
She turns to the worker, tucking her violet hair behind her ears, and politely states, “I’m sorry sir, we no longer need our items. But could we leave them up here?”
The man raises his eyebrows without amusement before nodding. “Go give him hell.”
She sends him a grateful smile, grabbing Taramo’s wrist and saying eerily, “We’re going to Rai’s house.”
And just like that, the show ends as the teenagers quickly make their way to the exit — Taramo being dragged and Saichiro stomping out curses.
The doorbell sings as they leave and the clerk looks back at Katsuki expectantly, like he shouldn’t need time to process what the fuck he just witnessed.
But he comes back to his senses in seconds, placing his handcart on the conveyor belt, and nudging the smaller man to follow suit.
“Lemme cover.” He tries to be nonchalant but his cover is nearly blown when he needs to force a cough to keep his composure.
“Dinner and a show in one outing? Must be my lucky night,” the male teases as he places instant ramen, a pack of sticky notes, and an energy drink behind the blond’s hoard of cold medicine.
“Dinner? At this hour?” he scolds, picking up the man’s selection solely to degrade it. “Instant ramen, really?”
The greenette shrugs sheepishly, immediately tangling his fingers into his sleeves. “It’s quick and easy.”
“Yeah, and it’s also shit for you,” the blond remarks while rolling his bright eyes, setting the cup down to dig out his wallet. As he’s swiping his credit card, he catches an insinuating look from the cashier.
Damn, this guy really does see everyone’s personal shit.
“Fuck off,” Katsuki bites under his breath, snatching his bagged items from him. Not before shuffling a few inches over so the other can take his things, too.
The masked man chirps out a polite Thank you , bowing his head. Then those bright green eyes land on Katsuki — fuck , he never wants those eyes to leave him — motioning for the blond to follow him out.
It’s not until the chill of the early morning air nips at the slender man’s nose, does he pause slightly.
So much has happened in the last hour and he’s not sure what to do with himself now.
He was frustratingly forced out of a dead sleep to get fucking medicine for his pitiful roommate. Only to witness a massive milestone of some random teenager and now he’s pretty sure he met the love of his life.
He can’t just go home after something like this…
Can he?
He pictures himself continuing his trek, not faltering in his step trying to dig up words to speak to a stranger . He would be heading back to his apartment to deliver the items and grumpily crawl back to bed before he needed to get up for the day.
From there, the timeline of his life gets more and more bleak without the presence of the person he just met. He’d never have those damn eyes on him again.
He’s not even going to be able to step foot in the supermarket without scanning the area looking for any sign of green.
And like…
What the fuck is all that?
Why does it distress him so much?
The sound of a can pop open gains his attention, and he watches as the other lowers his mask to take a long pull from the energy drink.
Fuck, Katsuki had been breathless when the mask had been on, he didn’t realize how wildly unprepared he was to see the rest of his face.
Rounded cheeks that are begging to be bitten, a smile that no one else should ever be able to see, and a nose that would be easy to flick teasingly. Oh, but those freckles… they’re everywhere .
“Well, that was fun,” the greenette sighs, rolling his head tiredly.
Without thinking, the blond thrusts out his hand. “Katsuki.”
He just has to know —
There’s a beat of silence before a calloused hand slides into his. “Izuku. Thanks for playing along with me. It was really nice to meet you, Katsuki.”
God, his given name has never sounded so good.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve participated in something so damn childish before,” he gruffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as soon as it’s released.
Izuku gawks mockingly. “As if you didn’t get into it!”
“But you’re forgetting that I had been minding my business before you demanded my attention.”
“D–demanded!”
“You couldn’t have just left the poor teenagers alone.”
“I’m not the one who bought children’s Mucinex,” Izuku fires back with narrowed eyes.
Katsuki startles, head temporarily snapping down to the bag on his arm and looking back up, “It’s the only fucking medicine my roommate will take!”
“ Sure it is,” the greenette sings waving his energy drink around. “Who’s childish now, Kacchan ?”
“ Kacchan –?”
“You better run along and get home to take your meds, Kacchan. It’s way past your bedtime.”
Fuck, if Eijirou had been here— “Don’t call me–”
“What? Kacchan ? I don’t know.” Izuku raises his free scarred hand – Katsuki has half a mind to wonder what happened — to tap on his chin. “I kinda like it. It’s very fitting.”
The blond waits a beat, before smirking and taking a large step forward to crowd the other’s space. Before the greenette can react, Katsuki snatches the lowered energy drink and holds it clear over the shorter male’s head.
“Hey –!”
“If I have to go to bed, then you shouldn’t be drinking this.”
Izuku is giggling, making weak attempts to reach for his caffeine source. “Give it back!”
They begin a small dance, the blond constantly moving it around while the other hops in step, both trying to gain the upper hand.
Katsuki feels strangely light, like he’s never let his guard down so easily in front of someone. It’s easier to breathe, a smile feels so familiar on his face as he watches the greenette’s ridiculous jumping attempts. His movements are less rigid and calculated, he’s swaying as if a gentle breeze was pushing him around.
Once again, they’re interrupted by a phone, but this time it’s Izuku’s.
The freckled man stops, his posture deflating with a heavy sigh. He pulls his device from his hoodie pocket, scanning over the cockblocking notification.
“Hm, been gone too long,” he mumbles, then smiles sadly at the blond. “Gotta get back to work.”
“Right,” Katsuki clears his throat and straightens up, lowering his arm to offer a truce.
The greenette tilts his head thoughtfully. “Here. I’ll trade you.”
He begins digging into the entire reason they’re out here in the first place – his grocery bag.
The blond recognizes the fished-out sticky notes and watches with a racing heart as Izuku rips them open and pulls out a pen. Something is quickly scribbled, and the note is held out to him.
As he’s taking it, the can is pried out of his other hand.
“See ya around, Kacchan .”
It’s a fleeting call over a shoulder as Izuku had already turned and was making his hasty leave.
Katsuki looks down and smirks at the numbers written down on the small paper. He’s never been more thankful to have been forced out of bed.