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The first time Shinsou actually fucking dares to call him kitten, Katsuki startles. His whole body gets tense and he freezes like a spooked—no, not like a cat. Because Shinsou isnʼt even calling him a cat, heʼs calling him a baby cat.
Like he looked at Katsuki and decided yeah, you know what this reminds me of, a fluffy little twerp that screams its head off and annoys people—and sure, some people find that cute, but thatʼs even worse. Katsuki isnʼt a cute fucking baby. He isnʼt a yowling, fluffy menace having a tantrum.
Heʼs not cute in any way and Shinsou should get that damn straight in his head or Katsukiʼs gonna show him just how not cute he can fucking be, except…Shinsou’s taking a few steps closer.
Slow, cautious.
Shinsou already whispered a cautious “nice kitten,” mostly to himself, almost like he’s expecting Katsuki to lash out at him, and he doubles down now. “Don’t hate me for this.”
Ha. Katsuki already fucking hates this loser.
But when Shinsouʼs face gets even closer, his mouth forms a huh that goes unsaid and then heʼs being kissed, a warm hand tucked under his jaw, and oh god—he doesnʼt…doesnʼt hate it, there’s a tingling feeling all over as Shinsou guides the kiss, then he draws back, and Katsuki kisses him back, harder.
Katsuki was the one who told this dweeb to stop measuring him up with his eyes, grow some balls and do something but he didnʼt think Shinsou would do this. He didnʼt think Shinsou would kiss him.
People donʼt kiss Katsuki and he doesnʼt want them to. He doesnʼt do a single thing to suggest that he wants to be kissed, at least once for fucks sake, just to know what itʼs like. Honestly, he was just picking a fight.
Now thatʼs something heʼs done plenty of times and won.
Katsuki doesnʼt spend any of his valuable time thinking about something as ridiculous as first kisses so it shouldnʼt get his heart pumping thinking about the fact that this is his, and Shinsou is bracing him up against a wall, and Katsukiʼs done fuck all to stop him.
Itʼs— not bad. It gets him out of his own head, itʼs not gross and too wet like he thought it would be. He’s not bad at it, like he knew he wouldn’t be. Because if he was bad, then Shinsou would have stopped.
Somewhere between Shinsou tilting his chin up and wordlessly coaxing him into parting his lips, making the sensation of kissing suddenly more intense, Katsuki decides— this can be a thing that happens.
Shinsou can kiss him again if this is what it feels like.
Heʼs not down for romantic bullshit, and itʼs great that Shinsou didnʼt put that on the table, but if everyone else is getting kissed, and they are—they refuse to shut up about it—then Katsuki should be getting the best kisses.
Katsuki didnʼt think Eyebags had it in him—this is great. He feels good.
His hand closes on Shinsouʼs wrist when stops kissing Katsuki like a hungry demon and tries to slink off like the noncommittal asshole he is.
Katsuki cannot believe the audacity of him. “Oi, weʼre not done.”
Then he yanks him back where they were, he puts his hand on Shinsouʼs neck so the tips of his fingers touch the ends of Shinsouʼs hair, and he gives the loose strands a little tug for good measure before copying what he learned from the first round and kisses Shinsou again.
Kisses him until he needs to rest his head back against the wall, letting Shinsou lean his forward so their foreheads nearly touch, just breathing against each otherʼs mouths.
“God I knew youʼd be eager.”
His cheeks color, and he wonders if he was, if that’s what it came across like. “M not eager for you, you stupid-looking hack.”
“Gimme your number,” Shinsou says, undeterred.
He can’t help but be stubborn. “Why should I?”
“Because youʼre so nice. I need some sweet talk in my life,” Shinsou smirks, and Katsuki wants to kiss him on the mouth again so bad.
“Go to hell.”
“Yeah, see,” Shinsou presses his lips to Katsukiʼs one more time. “I need that shit.”
Katsuki chases Shinsouʼs lips as he pulls away, only because he follows patterns and the last two times there wasnʼt just the one or two kisses, but the action makes him look desperate, and Shinsouʼs too smart not to notice, damn it all to hell.
“What you need is to get your head checked.”
“I’m asking nicely,” Shinsou passes him his phone, and Katsuki glances down once, then back up at Shinsou, before putting his number in.
Fine. Only because he was a great kisser.
*
The second time is after a week-long, self-imposed kissing ban gets rescinded and Katsuki sends Shinsou a text asking him to get over here if he wants some action.
The original thought was that all this kissing stuff they’d been doing would distract Katsuki from studying for exams but the actual truth is that not doing it was more distracting. So Katsukiʼs gonna cut his losses, grabbing Shinsouʼs shirt when he shows up and pulling him in and onto the bed, not a word exchanged.
They donʼt need to. Shinsou knows what Katsuki wants when heʼs asked to come over, and in return Katsuki will let Shinsou kiss him as long as he wants, and then let him turn Katsuki over on his side with an arm tossed over waist— the snarky bastard’s real starved for touch, so Katsuki letʼs him have it for a few minutes only.
He listens to Shinsou breathe out against the back of his neck, and the warmth of Shinsouʼs body against his back makes Katsuki slightly sleepy, all pliant from all the kissing, relaxed.
The first time Shinsou texted him, Katsuki thought it was beneath his self-worth to show up on demand like that, and he let Shinsou know that wasn’t how it was going to go down.
He was kind of annoyed, because he thought that was the end of that, of the thing with them kissing, fucked up before it could get started, but Shinsou texted back saying he didnʼt give a shit who was the one asking, if Katsuki wanted to make that call he was welcome to.
So thatʼs what they did. The first time Katsuki asked Shinsou to get his ass over here, they kissed on the bed while Shinsou made more than one comment about how he was gonna find where Katsuki kept his All Might merchandise—since nothing was on display—and that was part of the reason Katsuki kicked him out right after.
They didnʼt start doing the lying-down-next-to-each-other-in-bed thing until weeks later. When Katsuki figured out that Shinsou probably didnʼt mind if he needed some time to be non-verbal after all of the touching, he was quickly proven right. Shinsou could be quiet too. Quiet was his default setting after snarky little bitch.
Heʼs quiet now. Except when he breathes all warm against the back of Katsukiʼs neck and asks “what changed your mind?”
“Wasnʼt working,” Katsuki mumbles.
If Shinsouʼs looking for an I missed you, he can go ahead and get fucked. Thatʼs never gonna happen.
“I told you it wouldnʼt, kitten,” Shinsou remarks, then adds, almost inaudible. “Missed this.”
Katsukiʼs mind, currently in a post-kiss haze, drifting along a slow, unbothered current, faintly registers the nickname and decides itʼs not worth disturbing his own valuable quiet time to tell Shinsou to eat shit. Not over something he doesnʼt find nearly as irritating as he should.
When he wakes up, Shinsouʼs gone, thereʼs a blanket thrown over him that came from under his bed—what a creep, was he snooping? The desk lampʼs been turned off and the curtains drawn so it could be nice and dark.
Katsuki has the overwhelming feeling, when he looks around, in the moments before the full force of his personality returns to him, that he lucked into something.
*
The third, fourth and fifth times Shinsou pulls out that ridiculous nickname makes Katsuki pick up on the pattern.
Shinsou either calls him kitten when heʼs about to do something mind-numbingly nice, like kiss him, and touch him, hands creeping under his shirt for the first time yesterday, or, he says it when Katsukiʼs already gone boneless or slumped against his solid chest, so the name is tangled up now in Katsukiʼs brain and instead of being the most annoying fucking thing it means that something kind of okay is happening.
Around the same time as the hands under shirt moment, after he let Shinsou cop a feel and didnʼt murder him for squeezing his pec as if it was a fucking tit, he decided that he didnʼt mind that much if Shinsou wanted to text first.
He memorized the dumb look on Shinsouʼs face when he said so.
Of course the first text Shinsou sends with this privilege is im free if you wanna come on over kitten. As if Katsuki was just lying down on his bed waiting for an invitation— he wasnʼt.
At least he knows he can use the name as an excuse for actually getting down to Shinsouʼs room as fast as he does. He can throw it in Shinsouʼs face and says heʼs not anybodyʼs fucking kitten, and then they could move onto making out, which Katsuki, at this point, absolutely loves.
He loves kissing Shinsou. Being kissed by Shinsou. Heʼs good with Shinsouʼs leg carelessly tossed over or between his and his shirt tugged to the side so Shinsou can kiss his bare shoulder.
Except the second Shinsou opens the door, Katsuki can tell somethingʼs wrong. His eyes are more red than usual, the bags under his eyes look darker, and Katsuki, the king of handling sensitive situations just comes out and asks. “Were you fucking crying or what?”
Shinsou bristles. “So what if I was?”
“So nothing, like I care about that,” Katsuki walks in and sits down on Shinsouʼs bed.
The door closes with a low click and Shinsou’s hand comes up to his own forehead and he sighs. He really does look exhausted, but he does sit down and Katsuki remembers that Shinsou called him here expecting them to kiss, and thatʼs what Katsuki came for too.
If that’s what they both want, then they should do it. He turns Shinsouʼs face towards his own and kisses him.
They kiss like that, sitting there for a minute, then Shinsou scoots back against the headboard, and Katsuki’s game for anything, so he straddles Shinsou’s lap, finally looking down at Shinsou at this angle—which he normally doesn’t get to do—and let’s Shinsou take a second and cup Katsuki’s face with his hands, looking like he wants to say something.
What a weirdo.
Only a moment though, because Shinsou’s got these deep purple eyes that are saying way too much for Katsuki to handle, and he never actually comes out and says that he’s down bad, but from the way he kisses Katsuki back like a man starved, Katsuki knows that he is.
Shinsou’s hands run up Katsuki’s back, under his shirt, as they kiss, and Katsuki thinks that maybe he has a thing for touching Katsuki’s bare skin, so he shoves Shinsou in the chest, telling him to “wait a fucking second,” and then pulls it up and over his head. This is about as far as Katsuki’s willing to go, for now, but he doesn’t think Shinsou’s gonna get the wrong idea— he’s never pushed, other than that first time, when he kissed Katsuki and turned the world upside down, he’s been good.
He looks up at Katsuki like he’s Christmas morning, and his hands run up and down Katsuki’s now bare torso, and his mouth is open just slightly. It registers, faintly, in Katsuki’s mind that this is probably what he would need in a relationship, he wants someone kinda mean, but when it comes down to it, he needs that look on Shinsou’s face—like this is the only fucking place he wants to be, and Katsuki’s the greatest thing in the world. The coyness and feigned neutrality got Katsuki in the door, but he likes this, the excitement that comes out in bits and pieces.
It’s the spark in his eyes, the freshly lit match that seems brighter the closer Katsuki gets. He makes everything feel like a challenge, and Katsuki lives for that and winning every round.
“If I’d known this was gonna happen, I’d have come crying to you sooner,” Shinsou confesses, in his low, low voice.
He’s the fucking worst. “God you’re making it weird.”
The worst part is, he’s not totally wrong. On some level, Katsuki was in fact looking to flip Shinsou’s mood from sour to snarky-smug (the default setting), the moment he walked in. Partially to see if he could. Partially because–
“Sorry,” Shinsou laughs, and he pulls his own shirt off and then, before Katsuki’s had the chance to properly look, he’s bringing Katsuki close and he’s roughly kissing him again.
They don’t stop this time, just tumble against Shinsou’s gray-blue sheets, and Katsuki’s got his eyes closed through all of it. He can’t stop smiling, and he hates that, because it’s something Shinsou could probably feel, but does that even matter? Shinsou cried, probably because he was fucking sad. Katsuki’s fucking happy.
“Can I try something?” Shinsou asks, looking self-conscious all of a sudden. “Some people don’t like it.”
“Do you?” Katsuki demands, because that’s kind of what matters.
Some people aren’t here.
“I didn’t,” Shinsou says, and Katsuki has no idea why he’s getting so red, he usually doesn’t, he’s usually so smug. “Before. It felt like way too much, so I didn’t, but with you–”
Right. It might be good with Katsuki though. Because those other people fucking sucked. And Katsuki won’t know if he likes it, until they do it, so they should.
“Go for it,” Katsuki says, because he’s shirtless in Shinsou’s goddamn bed, so that has to mean he trusts him to not do something totally psychotic.
“Close your eyes,” Shinsou says, and Katsuki just listens to him, because he wants to know what the thing is, already, the mystery’s getting old.
It starts off just like they normally kiss. Katsuki’s starting to think maybe Shinsou is just being weird about something, and he gets into the pace of it, when he feels Shinsou slide what must be the tip of his tongue across Katsuki’s bottom lip, and that’s something new, sure, but it’s not such a big deal. Then Shinsou turns his face and slowly slides his tongue into Katsuki’s mouth, and that’s a big deal, and it is weird for the second when he doesn’t do anything with his own, but the moment he does, it’s less weird and more intense in a way he can’t quite explain, and they kiss like that.
Only for a moment before Shinsou draws back again, he looks terrified. “If that was weird for you I won’t do it again.”
“I’m fine,” Katsuki retorts sharply, heart thudding in his chest. “I think that’s one of those things that you do more and it feels better.”
He remembers that Shinsou said he didn’t like it with other people. And he wonders if it was any different with him. “Do you even want to or what?”
“Yeah. I just don’t wanna freak you out.”
That’s the most ridiculous thing Katsuki’s ever heard. “Ha. As if you could possibly do that. You’re not scary, like at all.”
Now that they’re not kissing he finally has a chance to look at Shinsou’s bare chest, and he stares for a good five seconds, likes what he sees, before he realizes Shinsou didn’t say anything back, and looks back at his face.
He’s got these deep purple eyes, and in some lighting they look more black than anything else, it’s intense, and he does kinda have discoloration under them presumably from lack of sleep, which is how Katsuki gave him the Eye Bags nickname in the first place. It took about two seconds of thought to do it.
Katsuki hadn’t seen those eyes like this yet. They’re still kind red from whatever made him cry earlier. The irises are pretty, Katsuki decides. They look wide and tense, and Katsuki only looks at him a second longer, trying to understand what happened, when his face crumples, and he immediately puts his face down in his own pillow, and groans.
Huh?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Katsuki puts a hesitant hand on his shoulder, tries to rewind what he said.
Not scary. That’s not even an insult. Katsuki’s the one who wants people to be terrified of him, but other people want to be liked, and Shinsou wants to be perceived as disinterested, not like a villain.
Wait. Is that what this is about? His quirk. Katsuki forgot about his quirk. Mind control. Allegedly a Villain’s quirk. Is that what’s bothering him?
“I’m assuming if I ask you to go away and mind your own business, that’s not going to be possible?” Shinsou lifts his head off the pillow, and Katsuki notes that the pillowcase is wet.
“You put your tongue in my mouth and now you wanna be coy?” Katsuki challenges. “What the fuck did I say?”
“You don’t think I’m scary,” Shinsou repeats, carefully monotone.
“No. I could beat the shit out of you at any time. Your quirk is just another quirk to me, and I’ve analyzed it. Iʼd win.”
“Hey. You don’t know that I wouldn’t win.”
Katsuki is trying to keep in mind that this bastard just cried, but he can’t help it. “You could try.”
The tongue-in-mouth thing must have made Katsuki soft. “You could last a minute in the ring with me.”
Somehow Katsuki being this blunt doesn’t make it worse, because Shinsou just huffs a little air out of his nose and laughs. “The results of our hypothetical match-up aside, it means a lot to hear you say that.”
Oh. Katsuki thinks he gets it now. Some stupid, useless, worthless extra called him a villain to his face. Probably laid it on pretty thick if it got Shinsou to the point of tears.
“Look, if you need me to tell you how fucking useless you are at being scary and dark or whatever, I’m here anytime. You suck at that. Whoever told you that you were good at it is full of shit.”
Shinsou’s watery-eyed smile after hearing that is the most horrifying thing that Katsuki’s ever seen. And he’s seen Deku cry about a million times. It must be making him nauseous because he feels a squeezing sensation in his chest and then his body is moving on itʼs own.
Katsuki doesn’t even know how to hug people. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly put his arms around Shinsou, but maybe it’s so he doesn’t have to look at his face while he continues to silently cry like a loser because Katsuki told him something that should be obvious to anyone with eyes.
Of course he’s a hero. Stupid idiot moron.
“Bakugou, sorr–” Shinsou tries to say something in his half-crying, choked voice, and Katsuki puts a stop to it immediately.
“Oh my god, just relax already. You are so stupid. Cry loud if you have to. I already told you, I don’t care about that.”
There’s a twinge in his heart when Shinsou kind of shakes a bit in his tight hold, and he attempts a kind of rubbing motion on Shinsou’s bare back, but he still doesn’t hear more crying. More like he’s just breathing, and that’s another new sensation. Someone wanting Katsuki to soothe their hurt fucking feelings, and not Katsuki being the cause.
They’ve had a lot of firsts together.
“You always feel so good,” Shinsou says, and Katsuki shivers at the praise.
“Shut up. Crybaby.”
Shinsou laughs, and Katsuki guesses that means he’s feeling better, but he holds onto him a few seconds longer, just in case.
*
Katsuki loses count of the number of times Shinsou’s deployed the kitten nickname, and somehow finds himself on a bus on not a double date with Icyhot and Deku.
For a lot of reasons. For one thing, he’s not dating Shinsou, or maybe he kinda is, but he sure as fuck isn’t double dating with Icyhot and Deku. They just happen to be going to the same restaurant on the same day.
It’s the worst. Shinsou won’t even take his side.
“We see them all the time. This isn’t different, is it?” he asks, and Katsuki knows he’s fishing for Katsuki to admit this is a date, which he won’t.
“Going to the restaurant was my idea, they can’t just–” Katsuki hisses at Shinsou, then glares at Icyhot from across the aisle and four seats down.
He waves back, completely innocent. Bastard.
“I thought you told him about this restaurant. Don’t you three get along lately?”
That’s not the point. “Friday was my day. They don’t have the whole fucking weekend?”
“Kitten, are you jealous?” Shinsou asks, and Katsuki can’t breathe for a second, because what if those two idiots hear this, and then he’s adding. “If you wanted to be alone with me, you could have just said that.”
Being called kitten again doesnʼt even register as annoying other than the possibility of being overheard. What heʼs upset about is the accusation of being jealous.
“Iʼm not jealous. I’m already alone with you enough, it’s bringing down my IQ.”
“Maybe I’ll just go with them then,” Shinsou shrugs, and Katsuki can’t help the wave of anxiety that passes through him when Shinsou says that, before his brain self-corrects, and adjusts for the tone.
It’s a joke. But the initial image of Katsuki alone at his own table at the restaurant while Shinsou lives it up with the lovey-dovey twosome is too much.
“They wouldn’t insult me over dinner,” Shinsou continues, looking at Katsuki, who glares right back, “but that’s no fun, is it?”
Katsuki’s the one that started this round of their usual thing. Meaningless jabs. He can’t be the one to back down now and say he doesn’t like it. He isn’t usually this sensitive, but with Deku’s sunshine smile lighting up the entire fucking bus, and Icyhot’s soft ones right back at him, he can’t help but feel like he’s some kind of prickly cactus and Shinsou’s just stuck to it, caught on the thorns, and can’t get loose.
Icyhot and Deku are holding hands. They do that a lot. There’s no reason to do it on a bus. Sitting right next to each other.
Katsuki glances at Shinsou’s hand. He wonders, for a split-second, if Shinsou has any interest, at all, in getting his hand held. Then he remembers that he could ignite at any moment, there’s a perceived risk in that.
“You’re quiet,” Shinsou says, and Katsuki knows enough about him by now.
What he’s actually being asked is if something’s wrong.
“We don’t always have to talk,” he snaps, looks at Shinsou’s hands again, and just for a moment, he aches for it.
Like he ached for that kiss, the first time, except he didn’t know it then, and this time he’s more aware of it than he wants to be, and it’s making him feel everything he hates, judged, ridiculous, and small.
Shinsou sighs, and Katsuki assumes that means Shinsou is exactly as tired and annoyed with him being difficult as he was afraid of. Everything was a mistake. And he hates everyone.
He stews in the feeling for the rest of the bus ride, furious at the fact that he can’t change seats and is still pressed up to Shinsou’s side. He almost doesn’t notice that Icyhot and Deku are getting off at the wrong stop. Their restaurant is still one stop away.
“Bye Kacchan and Shinsou-kun!” stupid nerd waves.
“See you!” stupid candy cane head echoes with another wave as they both get off.
“We might catch you on the way back!” Shinsou calls back.
Heʼs such an idiot, heʼs so interested in them, why doesnʼt he actually go with them, like he said? Theyʼd love to have him. They arenʼt weird and possessive over things like restaurants and specific days.
Theyʼd be nice about it.
“What the fuck are they doing?” he demands, despite the fact that he and Shinsou are not talking.
“This is their stop. Theyʼre not going to Spice Kings. They must have found someplace else.”
“Why would they do that?”
“I asked Todoroki to pick a different place, I told him I wanted to be alone with you, and he said he understood and he and Midoriya would find another place and we could eat as a group of four another time,” Shinsou explains. “He was fine with it.”
“I didnʼt need you to lie for me, Iʼm not a child,” Katsuki feels the hurt even more, and his chest burns thinking about what Shinsou might really think of him.
When did it start to matter so much?
“I know. I wasnʼt lying to him. And Iʼm not lying to you. You follow patterns, right? Am I a liar?”
He isnʼt. He isnʼt.
“Youʼre a piece of shit. Why the hell did you let me think it was gonna be a doubles thing for this long, then?”
Shinsou takes off his jacket, the one heʼs wearing over his black round-neck sweater.
He dressed nice tonight. Katsuki did too, just with no jacket, because he didnʼt think it was gonna be as cold as it is.
This was a date. And it was supposed to be just them.
Shinsou puts his jacket around Katsukiʼs shoulders and he holds the unzipped sides around himself too. Itʼs one of those longer fall jackets. So they have their own bubble in the mostly empty bus.
“I wanted to be mean. Rile you up a bit. You usually get handsy when I do that.”
“You shouldnʼt have.”
Shinsou sighs, which means maybe the one from earlier wasnʼt him being sick and tired of Katsuki. “I know. Iʼm sorry.”
He hates it when people are sorry for him. He wants to yell more but the jacket smells like Shinsou, itʼs warm from when he was wearing it.
The words come out like a confession, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, even though he knows how true it is. “Iʼd get handsy even if you were nice.”
Shinsouʼs soft oh is barely audible, Katsuki lip reads otherwise he would have missed it.
Then Shinsou takes his sweaty hand for the first time, and threads their fingers together, resting on Katsukiʼs knee. “Iʼll mix it up next time.”
*
Unsurprisingly, the nerd is the first one to try and put a label on it.
Somehow being willing to offer up your life in exchange for someone elseʼs, doesnʼt make them any less annoying to you. Katsuki might even prefer being stabbed again to this incessant line of questioning.
Yes, there is a deeply personal and intense connection between them, unlike any other, but he isnʼt talking to this nerd about Shinsou and all the kissing theyʼve been doing behind closed doors.
“Is Shinsou-kun your boyfriend?”
“How is that your business?” Katsuki growls, and Deku continues to follow at his right side (where his hearing is stronger), without an ounce of shame.
“I mean, Iʼve seen you hold hands and he calls you…kitten, so I just thought–”
No. Fuck no.
“HE DOESNʼT FUCKING CALL ME…that,” Katsuki stops walking in order to glare in place. “Got it? That never happened.”
“I donʼt think anyone else heard! It was just me around that time in the locker room,” Deku offers, trying to help, as if thatʼs consolation.
“Heʼs not my boyfriend,” Katsuki reiterates. “And stop eavesdropping!”
Deku makes a face and Katsuki knows what it means. “Spit it out.”
“Youʼre not really one to talk about eavesdropping, Kacchan. You do that all the time. And I donʼt think itʼs weird that you guys have cute nicknames. Todoroki-kun calls me–”
The rest of what he says is muffled under Katsukiʼs palm over his mouth. “Do not finish that sentence.”
He tries to think of what kind of cutesy shit Icyhot could have come up with, and unfortunately he canʼt think of anything more horrific than kitten.
Fuck.
*
Katsuki could tell Shinsou to stop calling him kitten. He almost has, several times, but he always manages to get distracted. That could have been this bastardʼs game all along, to say it and then do something distracting, like play with Katsukiʼs hair or kiss him with tongue.
Not really though. Shinsouʼs devious, but heʼs not devious enough for a long game like that.
Shinsou obviously likes calling Katsuki this weirdass, inaccurate nickname. He must think itʼs fun.
Katsuki wonders if he could get him back with a retaliatory nickname, but nothing sticks. Nothing sweet rolls off Katsukiʼs tongue easily. Honestly, the kitten really should be Shinsou. Heʼs the one whoʼs obsessed with cats. Doesnʼt that make more sense?
Is it some kinda smartass joke? Calling Katsuki something cute because heʼs the farthest thing from it. This answer starts off making Katsuki feel pretty good but gets worse and worse the more Katsuki thinks about it, and he doesnʼt fucking know why, or just doesnʼt want to.
Shinsou has a first name. Katsuki knows his name. His name is Hitoshi. No one calls him that. Not even Deku or Spark Plug.
It feels incredibly embarrassing to even consider saying it. He tries it out on his run, as far away from any meddlesome idiots who might try to get involved.
He stops running, looks up their class roster for a picture of Shinsou and stares at it, imagining what it might be like to call him that to his face. Why the fuck is he doing this?
Ugh.
He tries it as monotone as he can get, how Shinsou himself might say it. No inflection at all.
“Hitoshi.”
The phone app connected to his watch shows his elevated heart rate. He can feel his cheeks heating up. That felt so fucking weird. Heʼs never doing it again, ever.
*
Shinsou is obviously the kitten in this relationship if there has to be one. Katsuki glares down at him, fast asleep with his head in Katsukiʼs lap.
Thatʼs what cats do, right? They fall asleep in peoplesʼ laps and make it hard to move. Katsukiʼs legs are gonna fall asleep like this, and this isnʼt even his own room.
Shinsou doesnʼt sleep well. Katsuki suspected that ages ago and the eye bags are a big clue. But now heʼs heard it from Shinsou directly. No more than a couple hours a night. And itʼs been like that since he was nine or ten.
Heʼs got such messy hair. Itʼs long enough to tie back. Katsuki debates tying back the two sides of it to give him stupid-looking pigtails in his sleep, but tugging on his hair might wake him up. Heʼs got real sensitive hair follicles. What a baby.
It rips up Katsukiʼs day plan, but he letʼs Shinsou sleep for an hour on his thighs. Then nudges him awake, jostling him slightly on his lap. “Oi. Nap timeʼs over. Get up.”
Shinsou starts sitting up too fast and Katsuki shoves him back down. “Wait.”
“What?” his eyes are only half open, blinking shut again. “You–you told me to get up.”
“Only my boyfriend gets to sleep on my lap. I gave you a pass this time, because you look like you havenʼt slept for thirty years.”
“Are you…are you asking me out?”
Never. “No. Iʼm making you an offer. You want in?”
“What else do I get?” Shinsou asks, raising one of his eyebrows.
Katsuki didnʼt think that far ahead for once. Actually he wasnʼt thinking at all.
“Iʼm not enough?”
God if that isnʼt the most desperate and pathetic thing to say. He hates the way it just came out.
“You are,” Shinsou brushes it off. “I just get greedy when I look at you.”
Katsukiʼs cheeks are heating up again. The color might show. He puts a hand over Shinsouʼs eyes. “Donʼt look then, asshole.”
“I canʼt help it, youʼre pretty.”
No. He likes that too much. “Shut up. Stop fucking around.”
“Iʼm serious. I was so terrified to say one word to you, before, you looked so good to me. I thought you would tell me to fuck off.”
Katsuki smiles. “I did tell you to fuck off.”
“I knew you were kinda soft on me.”
“Was not.”
“Thatʼs no way to talk to your boyfriend, kitten,” Shinsou scolds.
Ha. “It is now.”
*
“Hitoshi.”
“Yeah, kitten?” heʼs scrolling on his phone.
Like he hasnʼt single-handedly up-ended Katsukiʼs life over the past year. And of course, there it is. That fucking nickname.
“Why the fuck do you call me kitten?” Katsuki asks at last.
“Do you…want me not to?” Shinsou turns his phone off. “For real. Not like…” he makes a small circle motion with his hand and Katsuki guesses that it means the things Katsuki says he doesnʼt like but needs like oxygen.
“I didnʼt say that. I wanted to know why.”
“Huh.”
“Donʼt huh me, are you gonna tell me or what?”
This is useless. Katsuki wants to storm off. But theyʼre in his room, on the floor instead of on the bed so they can actually study. The bed leads to making out way too easily.
“I can tell you,” Shinsou says. “You know how me and Aizawa feed the stray cats around the dorms, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Iʼve always liked cats.”
Obviously. Everybody and their mother knows that. “Okay.”
“They donʼt judge me. They donʼt ask too many questions. They donʼt think Iʼm about to take over their minds when I get close.”
His serious voice is quieter. Katsuki looks at his mouth to follow the words better, and successfully fights the instinct to correct him and point out that his quirk doesnʼt really work on animals. Instead he shuffles closer to Shinsou too. In case he fucking cries again or something gross like that.
Theyʼre both leaning against the bed.
Shinsou puts his arm around Katsuki as soon as heʼs close enough, tells the rest of his fucking story like that, turning slightly so theyʼre face to face, because thatʼs how Katsuki prefers to talk to him. Like their under-the-coat bubble on the bus. “A lot of the strays arenʼt spayed or anything. So sometimes thereʼs kittens.”
“Iʼve seen em.”
“Yeah, so when I was still in the general course, there was this little gray one. Kinda feral. She bit my hand really hard when I went to give her some food.”
“Thatʼs pathetic. Work on your reflexes,” Katsuki thinks about it. “Iʼll show you how if you wanna train with me.”
Shinsou sneaks a kiss on his cheek, then whispers right by his ear. “Iʼd let you bite me though.”
Yeah, he canʼt— later.
“Okay so you got crushed in a one on one with a two pound cat. Then what happened?”
“I went back the next day with some treats,” Shinsou says. “And I put some out in front of her. I did that every day until she ate out of my hand. It took a month before she let me pet her.”
“You rewarded her for biting you with a shit load of treats?”
“She didnʼt mean to. Kittens are friendly.”
Oh no. No. “Please donʼt tell me you think of me as some kinda feral baby cat.”
“No. Not at all. Well, not exactly. I just remembered that, when I saw you. Whenever you swiped at me. It made me think I still had a shot at winning you over. That wasnʼt the main reason though. Itʼs…”
“What, Hitoshi?”
“When I really got the chance to look at you, I thought you were cute. Really cute.”
Oh.
This…is what Katsuki suspected from the beginning.
He hated it.
Then he didnʼt mind it. Then…he started to want it, he canʼt quite explain why the fuck he would—something to do with the look on Shinsouʼs face when he said it—and doubted it was meant that way for real.
He leans in to kiss him instead of saying something stupid, or nothing at all because his brain and his heart are both too full of Shinsou to make sense of anything except the way it feels to be with him.
Just…good.
They kiss for a while, until Katsuki remembers something he could try, since Shinsou has no idea how attractive he actually is. Katsukiʼs wanted to mark him up for a while now, and might have even looked up how he could do it. Suck a bruise onto Shinsouʼs neck that nobody would miss. He read about how it can feel good.
“Oi. Would you really let me bite you?”
“Sure, kitten. Iʼm all yours.”