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There are few things Katsuki likes more than the early morning hours. Mostly, it’s the quiet. The plaza he lives above is slow to wake, daylight barely a blue smudge beyond the buildings. Katsuki kicks free of his comforter and rolls to his feet. The nice thing about living above his shop is he doesn’t have far to go.
He makes his bed, opening the window next to it further to let in the early morning air. The white curtains flutter in the breeze. The pothos plant winding around the top of the room needs watering, and so does the purple shamrock near his table. The latter’s leaves open up like butterfly wings in the new dawn.
A meow from the window draws Katsuki’s attention when he’s halfway through breakfast. Hana sits perched on the sill, black fur shining.
“I get it, I get it,” he grumbles, digging out the bag of food to fill her bowl. She purrs when he strokes her head and he leaves the window open for her to leave when she’s done.
With less idiots running around causing a ruckus, Katsuki goes about his opening routine in peace. He circles around the store, straightening displays and plucking off dead leaves. A list of orders from yesterday is piled on the desk in the small office behind the counter, ready to be arranged.
He’s propping open the front door when he notices – the store across the street is no longer vacant.
Katsuki stares at the dark windows, trying to guess what sort of business has rolled into town. He sniffs and decides it doesn’t matter. As long as it doesn’t compete with his, he doesn’t care.
The weeks pass by in a blur of flowers. Everything is blooming bright and fresh and Katsuki finds himself up to his nose in petunias and chrysanthemums. There’s no greater satisfaction than perfecting each arrangement, passing it over to a customer and seeing them light up – knowing he’s won.
He slouches lower over the counter, tapping his pencil on a paper covered in scribbles.
“Is that for the Miyamoto wedding?” Kirishima asks, leaning over to see.
“They want lilies.”
Kirishima winces. “Don’t they have like, five other flowers picked out?”
With a violent strike of his pencil, Katsuki crosses out his last idea. He never backs down from a challenge, and this couple was proving to be just that.
“C’mon dude,” Kirishima says. He pulls the paper away. “Work on something else for a bit.”
“Did you finish that last order?”
“Who do you take me for?”
Katsuki levels Kirishima with a blank stare until he grins and gives a thumbs up. “All done and tied up with string!”
For all his chattiness and smiles, Kirishima is a good employee at the end of the day. In fact, those qualities came in handy when handling the occasional bratty customer or two. Katsuki knows he can trust him with the shop and with overseeing the part timers without worry. His arrangements aren’t half bad either.
They set about closing up shop for the day, making sure everything is in order for tomorrow morning. Kirishima readjusts the bandana tied about his forehead and steps behind the counter.
“You worked the morning shift,” says Kirishima, swatting Katsuki’s hands away from the till. “You technically shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s my damn shop, shitty hair. You’re the one who wanted me to go out with you tonight.” Katsuki steps away all the same.
“The gang misses you! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”
“With good reason.”
Kirishima pouts and locks the drawer in the safe. By the time he straightens up, his smile is back as if it never left. He slings an arm across Katsuki’s shoulders and pulls him towards the door.
“Aw, I know you miss ‘em, too.”
They flick the lights off in the shop, leaving the security ones on in case of robbery – though pray for the poor soul who ever decides to break into Katsuki’s shop when he’s right overhead. He locks the door and shoves the keys in his pocket.
It’s a brisk outside, the day not quite warm enough to sink into the pavement just yet. Katsuki looks out across the plaza and peers inside the newly occupied shop. There are a few people milling about and lots of artwork on the walls. A round faced receptionist sits behind the front desk. He sniffs in disinterest and follows Kirishima down the plaza to the bar on the corner.
It’s decently packed for a Thursday night, happy hour in full swing. Ashido’s pink hair is easily spotted from across the room as she waves them down.
“Bakugou!”
A round of cheers goes up and he already regrets coming out instead of retreating to his quiet apartment instead. Sero grins up at him with an annoyingly bright smile and Kaminari giggles, a few drinks deep already.
“Miss me that much, you dweebs?” He pulls out a chair and leans back in it, happy to let Kirishima retreat to the bar for a round.
“Feels like we haven’t seen you in ages!” Ashido cries, draping across the table.
“Didn’t your clothing store go out of business ages ago, pinky?”
Ashido frowns. “It’s like those closing signs are just part of the decor now, not really sure what’s going on with management these days.”
Katsuki snorts. That’s the understatement of the century. It feels like Ashido always has something new that management is miscommunicating. It’s a wonder the store is still open at all. He swears the going out of business signs have been there since January.
“At least I never have to worry about that,” says Sero, tracing a finger through the condensation beaded on his drink. “Cards are in high demand right now.”
“That’s what you get for picking a boring job like stationary.”
“Cards are always in demand,” says Kaminari with a groan. “Believe me. I have to deliver dozens of them every day.”
Sero sighs and takes a gulp of his drink. Katsuki is spared having to make any more small talk as Kirishima comes barreling back with a tray full of drinks for them all.
“Any of you been to the new store across the street?”
Ashido purses her lips. “Not yet, what is it?”
“A tattoo shop!”
Kaminari perks up in interest, eyes bright. “Anything good?”
Katsuki snorts. He’s really asking if there’s anyone good. There isn’t a shop in the plaza that hasn’t been subjected to his horrible flirting.
“I went in the other day to flip through their catalogue,” says Kirishima. “There’s this amazing artist there who does beautiful work! I’m considering getting my next piece from him.”
“Is he cute?”
Kirishima grins.
“Whatever,” says Katsuki. “Just don’t go falling over yourself for some extra again, pikachu.”
“Aw!” Kaminari drapes himself over Sero’s lap, who scrambles to save his drink. “He does care!”
“I just don’t want to hear you bitch and moan for another month!”
“Like you don’t complain for hours about your clients,” says Ashido.
Katsuki snaps his mouth shut with a click. He hates when she’s right.
“Midoriya’s not really my type,” says Kirishima, “but he’s a cutie. Might want to take a look, Bakugou.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Real sweetheart, too.”
“Which would be lost on him!” Kaminari shouts. They earn a glare from the bartender and Ashido shushes him back into his seat.
Katsuki decides he hates Midoriya on principle.
It’s another week before he gets the order.
“Is this a joke?” Katsuki grunts, eyeing the delivery address with relish.
They don’t do deliveries. Not yet anyway. They wouldn’t survive a trip on Katsuki’s motorcycle. He’s been saving up for a cheap van to expand their business, but it’s still a while off yet. Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that Kirishima has handed him a slip of paper along with the finished arrangement.
Katsuki looks at the bouquet, then across the street at the tattoo shop. “Why can’t you take it?”
Kirishima wipes at his brow before plunging back into his current vase. His technique is messier than Katsuki’s, but he always manages to get the job done. Katsuki has long since learned to just let him work.
“I’m swamped with that funeral order, remember?”
Katsuki does remember. Vividly. He shudders at the thought of the client’s demands.
“Fine.”
He pulls his apron over his head and snatches up the order.
The plaza is relatively quiet for the day, people milling about between the various stores. He spots Ashido in the window of the shop down the way, putting up yet another going out of business sign.
Katsuki’s halfway across when a loud put-putting rises up along the side street parking lot. It grates at his nerves and he watches in disdain to see who has the audacity to drive such a wretched machine. His lip curls as some idiot parks their scooter next to his motorcycle and dismounts. The guy pulls off his helmet, revealing a wild mess of green curls atop an undercut.
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki pushes into the tattoo shop.
It’s pretty normal, as far as tattoo parlors go, with art framed along the walls and desk set up with workspaces lined behind it. There are half partitions separating everything, but Katsuki catches the gleam of a dumb half red, half white haircut behind one near the back. Music plays low in the background, blending in with the whir of the tattoo pen.
“Delivery for Uraraka?”
The receptionist looks up, hair bouncing to frame her round face. “That’ll be me!”
Katsuki bites back a retort and plops the bouquet down on the front desk. Uraraka clasps her hands together and bounces to her feet.
“Oh wow! This is lovely. I was just thinking how we needed a little something to spruce up the lobby,” she says. She glances up at Katsuki with a grin. “You work in the shop across the street?”
“Own it.”
“Oh! You must be Bakugou.”
“Take it you met Kirishima.”
Uraraka puts a finger to her lips and winks. Katsuki’s not entirely sure what that’s supposed to mean, but he takes it as a yes. He makes a note to tell Kirishima to stop talking about him to strangers.
“Need anything else?”
“No, that should do it! Thank you, Bakugou.”
Katsuki turns on his heel with a wave of his hand. “Enjoy,” he forces out. This is why he leaves customer service to Kirishima.
He steps out the door and promptly trips over someone crouched in the entryway.
“What the fuck!”
“Oh! S-sorry.”
Katsuki finds his footing and flips around to find the man from the scooter peering up at him. He’s got bright green eyes and a face full of freckles. One of his hands is reaching out in a half-aborted motion towards the black cat sitting next to a planter. Hana licks her paw, heedless of the drama unfolding before her.
“What, you trynna steal my cat?!”
The man straightens up, waving his hands frantically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know she was yours!”
Katsuki scoffs. “She belongs to herself.”
He eyes the man curiously. He’s built thick, but when he stands Katsuki realizes he’s taller than him by just a hair. It feels like a victory.
“I’ve been calling her Chibi,” says the man. Katsuki thinks it’s supposed to be an olive branch, but he ignores it.
“That’s a stupid name!”
The man balks, eyes wide. He brings a hand to his lips, eyeing Katsuki with a calculated gleam in his gaze. Katsuki fights not to fidget beneath his stare. It feels oddly perceptive, like he’s breaking him down to his basic parts. “Then what do you call her?”
“Hana.”
The man nods, then glances behind them at the flowers on Uraraka’s counter. “You work across the street?”
Katsuki shrugs and watches the man rummage in his pocket. He finds what he’s looking for, pulling it out and bowing slightly, hands extended. “Nice to finally meet you!”
The business card he’s offering is simplistic, with a bright sunflower alongside the blocky characters of the tattoo shop’s name. Katsuki hesitates. He didn’t bring any of his cards with him to exchange, and he feels weirdly unprepared. He accepts the card, flipping it over to check out the guy’s name. He snorts.
“Deku?”
“Izuku.”
“If you’re going to call my cat Chibi, I’m going to call you Deku.”
Deku grins and sticks his hands in his pockets. It makes his biceps flex and Katsuki tries not to stare. The guy’s last name rings a bell in Katsuki’s mind, and he realizes this must be the tattoo artist Kirishima was raving about.
First, he tries to steal his best friend (not that he’d ever tell Kirishima that) and now he’s trying to steal his cat! Unacceptable.
Katsuki channels his darkest ‘I’m going to murder you if you step out of line again’ gaze. “I’ve got my eye on you, Deku.”
Deku shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “See you around, Bakugou.”
He’s halfway into the store when he realizes he never told Deku his name. Not that it matters.
“How’d it go?” Kirishima asks.
Katsuki grunts and slips back into his apron. He decides the burning feeling in his chest is contempt.
Hana winds between Katsuki’s legs as he rattles the food bag. She mewls in response, waiting for her food bowl with all the patience of a toddler.
“Hold on, you gremlin.”
He sets it down, spilling some on the floor when she headbutts his hand. He redirects to stroke down her back and she arches into it.
It was true when Katsuki said she was her own. Technically, he doesn’t own her – she comes and goes as she pleases – but he has been feeding her since he bought this little shop, four or five years ago. By this point she’s his as good as anyones.
Except that damn Deku’s.
Katsuki stomps over to the open window to peer down at the tattoo shop. It’s dark now, but Katsuki narrows his eyes and scoffs.
“Good morning, neighbor!”
The call startles Katsuki into hitting his head against the frame. He refuses to bring a hand up to where it throbs, instead staring out in shock at the apartment across the plaza. Deku is leaning against his sill, offering a small wave when he knows he has Katsuki’s attention. His hair is a rats nest atop his head, sleep still crinkled in his eyes.
Katsuki didn’t realize…. well, he guesses it makes sense that Deku lives above his shop, just like he does his. Doesn’t mean he has to like it.
He shuts the window with a bang.
The rest of the morning goes smoothly. He doesn’t look outside as he gets ready for the day, and only opens the window when Hana screams at him to do so. Deku is gone. Good riddance.
By the time Katsuki makes it down to the store, Kirishima has already opened. There are orders prepared in the back and the phone rings periodically as people confirm their pickup.
“Are you still going to run out for supplies?” Kirirshima asks, balancing two arrangements in hand.
Katsuki sighs. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a bit.”
“See you!”
Trading his apron for his leather jacket, Katsuki grabs his helmet and backpack from behind the counter and ducks out of the store. He spies Deku in the entryway to the tattoo shop and quickly redirects his path to cut across the plaza as fast as possible. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it unnoticed.
“Hey!”
Katsuki doesn’t slow, stepping up to his motorcycle.
“Hey wait!”
He almost stuffs his helmet on without a second thought, but hesitates. The second too long leaves enough space for his pursuer to catch up to him. Katsuki admits defeat, turning to face Deku head on.
“I’m glad I caught you!” he says.
“What do you want?”
“To invite you to the warming party we’re throwing for the tattoo shop. It’s a little late, but now that we’re all settled we wanted to meet everybody from around the plaza.”
Katsuki scoffs. Why go through the effort for all those extras. Hardly any of them were worth the effort. He says as much.
Deku frowns and pulls out a flyer. “Well, we’d like to meet them anyway. Can you pass the invite on to Kirishima for me?”
“Fine.” Katsuki takes it like it’s toxic, folding it up haphazardly and stuffing it into his pocket without a second glance. It seems to be enough for Deku, who beams up at him. Something pinches in Katuski’s chest. “Is that all?”
“I guess, yeah.” Deku glances down at the helmet in Katsuki’s hand, then over to the motorcycle. His eyes get wider than Katsuki thought possible. “Is this yours?”
Something like pride bubbles up inside Katsuki and he crosses his arms. “Yep. Sure beats that wreck of a scooter you own.”
The insult falls of deaf ears. “Wow! That’s amazing, Bakugou!”
He can’t help the heat rising to his cheeks. Catching the sideways glance Deku gives him, he quickly stuffs on his helmet. He’s not hiding, he’s not.
“Beat it, Deku. I got places to be.”
Deku stays as he mounts the motorcycle and turns the ignition. He gives a small wave and shouts over the noise of the engine. “See you at the party!”
Yeah, right. Like Katsuki would ever be caught dead at that thing.
Grumbling, he goes about his errands with the wadded up invitation heavy in his pocket. He stumbles into the store with a backpack stuffed with supplies and dumps it on the counter. Kirishima comes out of the back room, wiping his hands on a towel, and jumps when Katsuki slaps the flyer down.
“What’s this?”
“Party invite.”
“Oh hell yeah!” Kirishima snatches it up and scans the details. “Midoriya give this to you?”
Katsuki grunts and slips out of his jacket.
“What’s your beef with him anyway?” Kirishima leans against the counter.
They don’t have time for stupid questions. Katsuki’s got to unpack the supplies and bust out the new orders. He’s been up to his eyeballs in sweet sixteen arrangements. He grabs a pair of scissors and opens the top box to pull out bundles of twine.
“That stupid Deku’s trying to steal my cat.”
“He wouldn’t!”
“I beg to differ.” All evidence points to the contrary. Katsuki glances out the window and goes rigid. “He is right now.”
Without bothering to take off his apron, Katsuki darts outside to the entryway of his store. Across the street, Deku is crouched low to the ground, hand out before him. It’s a near mirror image to the day Katsuki met him, except Hana sits in the middle of the plaza, tail flicking curiously. She’s halfway between their two shops, but Katsuki sees her interest in Deku’s outstretched hand and feels the anger boil up.
“Chibi,” Deku calls. She licks her paw.
Katsuki cups his hands to his mouth and yells, “Her name is Hana!”
Deku’s eyes snap over to him and narrow. It makes Katsuki feel itchy, being the direct subject of his fierce attention.
Without looking away, Deku psst-pssts a little louder. “Chibi come here.”
Hana stands up, winding around in a circle. Katsuki can tell she’s thinking. How dare she give that Deku the time of day. She’s better than that.
He drops into a crouch and sticks his hand out as far as he can. “Hana, come.”
She stretches, arching forwards and back, little paws sticking out. She looks over at Deku, then back at Katsuki, as if debating the tug of war she’s caught between, then promptly rolls on her back. She gives a coy swat of her tail.
“Chibi!”
“Hana!”
Without another glance, she rolls over and darts off down the block, ignoring both their outstretched palms.
Katsuki ignores the indignation burning in his chest. He ignores Deku’s smug smile and retreats into the store. He ignores Kirishima’s giggles as he gets back to work, and he ignores the pain in his hand when he snaps a stem from gripping it too hard.
Deku is thorn in his side. He’s absolutely not going to that party.
“Dude, you’re absolutely going to this party.”
Kirishima locks the door to the shop and it sounds like a death sentence. Katsuki tries to sneak away to his apartment door, but is wrangled into a sideways bro-hug. With a squeeze, Kirishima redirects them to head across the plaza. Katsuki readjusts his grip on the potted plant in his arms and sighs.
The tattoo shop is already packed by the time they get in. There’s a bucket full of drinks to the side and platters of snacks lining the front desk counter. Across the floor, Kaminari and Ashido are talking to a straight-laced man with pointed eyebrows. Beside them, Sero is making conversation with the beautiful woman with a high ponytail who runs the boutique on the corner. He doesn’t see Deku anywhere. Not that he cares enough to look.
At least Katsuki bothered to put on his nicer clothes and leather jacket, hair coiffed to perfection. He looks better than half the people here. If not all of them.
“Kirishima!” Uraraka flounces over with a bright grin. “Bakugou! So glad you made it!”
Kirishima elbows Katsuki until he grunts and holds out the plant in his hands. “For the shop.”
It’s nauseating how much Uraraka lights up at the gift. “Midoriya!” she calls. “Get over here!”
The crowd parts and Deku comes tumbling through. He’s dressed up, a nice button down with the sleeves rolled and a tie sloppily done up. His shoulders strain at the material, and Katsuki wonders how it doesn’t rip. His hair is tamed in some semblance of a style, curls well defined and bouncing. Katsuki hates how good he looks.
Close behind him is a tall, lanky man with that dumb hair color Katsuki had seen behind the partition before. Uraraka waves them over and redirects the plant to Deku. His biceps flex as he takes it and Katsuki absolutely does not stare.
“Oh! Is this for us?”
Katsuki folds his arms. “If you kill it, I’ll end you.”
Shifting the plant in his grip, Deku beams at him. “I’ll take good care of it, thank you!”
“Whatever.”
The man beside Deku clears his throat and Deku jumps. “Oh right! This is Todoroki, another artist here at the shop.”
He and Kirishima greet each other like they’ve met before. Which, knowing how friendly Kirishima is, is probably the case. His eyes are strangely intense when they turn to Katsuki.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, voice monotone.
Katsuki bristles, and almost misses the way Deku flushes red. He waves his free hand between them. “All good things!”
Todoroki’s gaze traces Katsuki up and down and he shifts, uncomfortable. It almost feels like he’s being… evaluated, or something. He shakes the thought free.
“And I’ve heard nothing about you, candy cane.”
Kirishima pinches Katsuki’s side, but he ignores him. Todoroki shrugs a shoulder, face blank and eyes bright. Katsuki hates him, hates the feeling he gets like he’s just walked through an inferno of a blizzard. Deku looks between them curiously and hikes the plant up further in his arms.
“Thank you again for the plant!” he says.
Katsuki clicks his teeth and excuses himself to find a drink. He’s going to need it to get through this night.
He wakes up in bed the next morning with the beginnings of a headache. His routine slows to a crawl as he wraps his comforter around himself and sits on the edge of his mattress. He stares out the window and wonders where Hana is. Sometimes, not a lot of the time, but sometimes, she will slip into Katsuki’s apartment between his feet and into his bed.
He loves late nights curled up among his pillows, Hana tucked up on his chest as he reads. It’s soothing to have a companion, though he won’t admit it. Katsuki doesn’t do lonely. He loves his quiet life, his quiet shop, and not so quiet friends. But it doesn’t hurt to sometimes have Hana’s presence around the apartment.
He doesn’t know where she goes when she’s not with him. Frankly, he figures it’s none of his business.
When he finally tumbles downstairs, it’s to a whole other headache.
“Hey! You feeling okay today?” Kirishima asks.
Sero straightens up from leaning against the counter and offers a sharp grin. “Oh man, Bakugou, you were a riot last night!”
Katsuki barely restrains from strangling him. “Don’t fucking remind me.”
“Man, when I finally print those pictures they are getting slapped everywhere,” Ashido crows.
“Don’t you dare! What the fuck are you doing in my shop anyway?”
The others break into racetous laughter and jibes. Katsuki winces, head still tender. A flash of movement across the street catches his eye, and Katsuki watches Hana slip out of Deku’s upstairs window.
“Motherfucker.”
“What is it this time?” Kirishima doesn’t look up from his current project. Ashido and Sero whirl around to follow Katsuki’s gaze.
“Mind the store.”
Katsuki rips off his apron, not paying attention to the way it catches on his hair. He storms out the door, the tinkling bell chasing him across the plaza. Hana sits on the wall outside the tattoo shop, tail flicking idly as she watches him storm into the door.
He’s greeted by another bell, and as he steps inside he shakes the stupid party flashbacks from his mind. Uraraka is there at the front desk and she looks up at him in surprise.
“Oh! Bakugou, how are you today?”
A mop of green hair perks up over one of the partitions and, lo and behold, Deku comes around the corner. He wipes his hands on a towel and grins.
“Here for that tattoo I promised?”
Katsuki ignores that comment and crosses his arms. “Why did I just see my cat come out of the upstairs window?”
Deku leans a hip against the counter and Uraraka glances between them. From the back, Todoroki peers over the partitions. His stupid hair enrages Katsuki even more.
“Sometimes Chibi likes to sleep with me,” says Deku, and Katsuki’s blood pressure spikes.
“Her name is Hana,” he sneers. “And why the fuck would I come get a tattoo from you?”
Deku shrugs, grin never budging. “What can I say? I’m good with my hands.”
“I think I’ll take my lunch break now,” says Uraraka. Katsuki barely notices her stand up and leave.
“What the fuck does that mean, Deku?”
Deku shrugs. His eyes are an infuriating shade of green. “You sure you’re feeling okay today? You drank an awful lot last night, Kacchan.”
“Excuse me?”
Katsuki cracks his knuckles, ready to beat the shit out of him. Anything to get the knowing grin off his face. He steps right up in Deku’s face, toe to toe, expecting him to flinch, but he doesn’t. He’s bulkier up close.
Wrapping a hand in the collar of his shirt, Katsuki gives Deku a shake. “You wanna go?”
Deku makes no move, grin softening into something quieter. It’s almost like he knows what’s running through Katsuki’s mind – knows he would never throw the first punch, undeserved. Katsuki’s gaze drops to his lips. They’re very pink.
He shakes his head and meets Deku’s gaze. Neither of them speak, sharing a breath between them.
The funny feeling rises up in Katsuki’s chest again. It kind of hurts. He wants to rub at it and make it go away. Instead, he drops his hold on Deku and clicks his tongue in disgust.
“Not worth the effort,” he says, then backs away quickly out the door.
His chest still hurts by the time he gets back.
“How’d it go?” Kirishima asks. Sero and Ashido exchange glances.
Katsuki flips them off.
“So what’s this feud I keep hearing about?”
“Mind your business, sparky,” Katsuki bites. Kaminari pouts and drapes himself over the counter. “Don’t you have mail to deliver or something?”
Kirishima looks over his pile of invoices and grins. “Bakugou’s got a crush.”
“I do not!” Katsuki crushes a peony in hand and snarls, “He’s stealing my cat!”
Kaminari’s eyebrows shoot up and he whistles, exchanging a glance with Kirishima. “Boy, he’s got it bad.”
“I know. So sad.”
“I am right here!”
“Like we could forget,” says Kaminari, and plucks the flower from Katsuki’s grip. He must have a death wish today because he grins and sticks it right into Katsuki’s hair. “Hey, Bakugou. Is your cat black?”
Katsuki looks up and follows his gaze out the window. He catches sight of green hair and snarls.
“Oh boy,” says Kirishima. “Guess I’ll hold down the fort?”
Without an answer, Katsuki storms out the door. He forgets to take off his apron.
“Hey!”
Deku looks up and smiles. He’s bent over a small food dish, bag of cat food in hand. “You’ve got a flower in your hair.”
Katsuki feels the heat rise to his cheeks and rips it out. He decides to kill Kaminari later.
“Stop feeding my cat! You’re making her fat!”
Deku crosses his arms. “Well, she needs more love and you’re incapable of giving it!”
He’s smiling as he says it, and Katsuki knows when he’s being goaded. Hates that it works. “Oh yeah?!”
“Yeah!”
Katsuki feels the heat in his veins rise. No one gets his blood boiling like Deku does. He steps toe to toe with him and glares into his eyes. He wants to wipe the smug look off his face.
When he leans in, he’s not gentle. Katsuki kisses Deku like he’s confronting a challenge and aiming to win. He goes to pull away when Deku yanks him back, kissing with a fervor set to rival his. Not to be outdone, Katsuki tilts his head and presses closer. A quiet sound gets trapped between them, and he’s not sure who it’s from. It’s slick and messy and Katsuki’s head is spinning worse than before. He’d wanted to catch Deku off guard, but finds himself reeling in the aftermath.
They part and Katsuki can’t look away from Deku’s slick lips. They quirk up in a grin and he snaps back to reality.
“I hate you,” he says, though it lacks any force, and storms back across the plaza.
Kaminari and Kirishima are both standing by the counter when he comes inside. He takes one look at their wide eyes and whirls into the office without a word.
It was a mistake. A one off, doomed to never repeat. Wasn’t it? And yet, Katsuki can’t help but replay the kiss over and over in his mind. He stays away from the front windows and keeps his curtains drawn upstairs. It’s not like he’s avoiding Deku. More like, keeping his distance.
It doesn’t change the fact that he can hear Deku’s scooter from a distance and know it’s him. Doesn’t change the fact that he knows he’s just a stone’s throw away at any given time.
Katsuki’s closing up alone when it happens. The bell above the door tinkles and he perks up, trying to finish penning down the last of the order forms before turning around.
“How can I help–”
He drops his pen, frowning. Deku looks around the shop curiously, hands tucked in his pockets and a sheepish curve to his shoulders. It’s been a while since Katsuki’s seen him. He looks good.
“Have you seen Chibi lately?”
Katsuki frowns harder. “Who?”
With a cough, Deku glances around at the display flowers. “Hana, I mean.”
Katsuki nearly takes a step back in shock. Is he… admitting defeat? They’ve never come to terms before. He thinks about Deku’s question.
“Not in a week or so.”
“I’m worried.”
Katsuki takes in the defeated way Deku rubs at his face. “She’ll come back,” he says. “She always does.”
“Still…”
“What, you wanna make posters or something ?”
Deku shrugs. “I don’t think that would help.”
“Look, sometimes she goes off and does her own thing. That’s why I told you she owns herself, you know?”
Katsuki doesn’t know why he’s trying to reassure him. Doesn’t know why he’s bothering. All he knows is that he hates that look on Deku’s face.
“You’re right.” Deku picks himself up. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding.”
“Not hiding.”
“Mmhm.” Deku’s eyes twinkle and Katsuki feels disgusted with himself for being enraptured. “I think you’re all talk.” He steps closer, right up into Katsuki’s space.
Katsuki leans back, unsure. The counter is firm behind him and Deku places a hand on it to either side of Katsuki’s hips. It makes him feel boxed in, but not trapped. His hand comes up to rest on Deku’s chest. It’s very firm beneath his palm.
“Deku…”
Deku grins. “Not quite,” he whispers. His breath caresses Katsuki’s lips.
“Izuku.”
“Yes, Katsuki?”
A shiver goes down Katsuki’s spine. He’s never been one to beg. Hates the very idea of it. If anything, Izuku should be begging for him. But as his lips ghost past yet again, he feels the frustration build up inside his chest. It slips out before he even registers it.
“Please–” He trips over the word, but is cut off as Izuku dips in to kiss him.
He’s insistant, nipping and tugging and pressing until Katsuki is unaware of anything but him. A noise slips out of Katsuki’s mouth, unbidden, and he tries to shove it down by pressing closer. Izuku’s hands come up to his hips, pulling until they’re flush together. It’s intoxicating. Katsuki needs more. The world starts to spin and finally they part, Katsuki gasping in the space between them. Never has he been kissed so thoroughly.
Katsuki grabs Izuku’s collar, tugging him closer. He wants more, desire flooding his veins.
“Upstairs?”
He doesn’t mean for it to come out like a question, but it does.
Izuku gives him a cheeky grin and presses a kiss to the side of his lips. He steps away, which is the opposite of what Katsuki wants, but he lets him go. Izuku doesn’t go far, trailing behind as Katsuki flips the open sign to closed and removes his apron, throwing it over the counter for later.
He locks up shop with Izuku pressed along the line of his back, mouthing at his neck. It’s a struggle to open the door to his apartment. They stumble up the stairs and Katsuki has to fight off Izuku’s wandering hands until they’re in his room.
Their lips meet like magnets drawn together, and Katsuki lets Izuku push him down onto his bed with a bounce. He doesn’t move, hand pressed to Katsuki’s chest, just looking. Then he grins and follows Katsuki down.
Katsuki closes his eyes, and lets himself fall.
He wakes to sunlight slatting through his blinds onto the sheets. It’s another brisk morning, the open window letting fresh air in. Katsuki curls tighter in his blankets, stiffening when someone stirs behind him.
An arm slides over his waist, a nose pressed against his nape. Wild green hair peeks out of the corner of Katsuki’s eye and he relaxes when he realizes who it is. He decides he’s too tired to freak out right now about falling into bed with his nemesis, and relaxes into the hold.
A soft thump draws his attention, and he looks up to find Hana in the window. She glances up, eyes big as they make eye contact.
“Don’t look so satisfied,” he grumbles.
Izuku makes a soft noise. “Kacchan?”
Katsuki stiffens, not daring to move as Izuku stirs behind him. “Oh,” he says. “Chibi.”
It doesn’t burn like it used to, all the frustration drained away. Maybe sleeping with Izuku was sort of inevitable, he thinks.
“I guess I should thank her,” Izuku says, trailing a kiss along the line of Katsuki’s shoulder.
Katsuki lets him tilt him over onto his back, Izuku propping up on an elbow to hover over him. Izuku’s eyes are green as the spring morning.
Katsuki never thought of himself as soft. He has too many rough edges, too many cracks, but Izuku folds over him and he melts into the kiss. Izuku treats him like he’s soft. Like he doesn’t notice the chinks in Bakugou’s armor.
“What for?”
Izuku trails a thumb along the rise of Katsuki’s cheek and doesn’t say anything as he smiles. It’s brighter than the sunlight spilling across the pillow. Katsuki wants to trail a finger across his freckles and count them like stars in the sky.
“For you,” says Izuku, without an ounce of shame. “Let me take you out?”
Katsuki doesn’t blush, but he feels the heat rise up in his chest. He doesn’t know what expression he’s making, but Izuku laughs and ducks in for a kiss. Bakugou lets him, arching up into it. They don’t hold back, drinking each other in with long pulls. Izuku tastes like sunlight, like spring incarnate. A breath of fresh air.
Okay, Katsuki thinks, maybe Izuku’s not so bad.