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Katsuki lingered at the bar counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand, a sea of white lights roofed the ceiling. A sweet, sensual female voice with a harmony inducing banjo spurred the laughter, the dancing between couples, family members, and cliques of teenagers. He drank, relishing the warm burn down his throat and in his gut. Parties weren’t his scene. Give Katsuki a pocket knife, a bow and arrow, a battered 9mm with a couple fresh mags and then you entered his hometown. But it was a sense of normalcy for people. A celebration of the day today, the days of yesterdays, and to the hopeful days of every tomorrow to come. So they had them for that. Katsuki knew a lot of adults liked going to blow off steam of real life, to get shit faced, to get ass.
Katsuki showed up by request.
Said person who issued the request endlessly, persistently, with big old green doe eyes, with a fucking wreckage of freckles that should be unsightly since it kind of reminded Katsuki of a defect, and hair soft even when unwashed, twirled Ochako, dipping her so her long brown hair touched the floor as her one leg kicked up. He righted her, laughing as she stumbled into him, dizzy from the trip vertical to horizontal.
He asked her something while the room of bodies shifted around them, sometimes obscuring Izuku from his sight.
Ochako nodded back, fixing her hair.
They slowed danced, her arms wrapped around his neck, chin pillowed on his shoulders.
She saw Katsuki, waved, then said something to Izuku.
Izuku looked back, redness on account of shyness and not exertion. He smiled.
Katsuki raised his chin in acknowledgment and went back to his whiskey.
“Man, I’m tellin’ ya,” Eijirou laughed, suddenly coming up to the bar with Shindo. “Fucker was bigger than Fatgum, mate, his fist about the size of bricks.”
“You ain’t kill no clicker as big as Fatgum,” Shindo crackled. “Same old Eijirou, bullshitting me.”
“How you know you patrol the perimeter, mate?”
Shindo sloshed the beer side to side in his mouth before he swallowed. “Cause I ain’t no crazy sucker like you two. Katsuki, lay me some truth, he kill one that big?”
“Go outside and find out.”
“No thank you,” Shindo declined, good-naturedly. “My girl would be missing me if I turned up like them sick fucks. I saw a few and personally I’m good with my sheltered life.”
Mina hopped to Shindo. “Baby, baby, c’mon. Dance with me.”
Shindo set his beer down. “Alright, alright. Well, duty calls,” he waved.
Eijirou’s gaze tracked Mina with heartache.
“Shoulda gone for it,” Katsuki scolded. “Now look at you, fucking pinning. It’s really gross. That will kill you before any clicker does.”
Eijirou sighed. “It wouldn’t work with a girl like her and guy like me.”
“Bullshit. You’re a pussy. Admit it.”
Eijirou leaned off the bar. “Okay. I was scared.”
He snorted. “Nah, you don’t say.”
“But like, I dunno, I go on lots of patrols and what if I don’t come back from one and she’s sitting there waiting for someone who won’t come home.”
“Damn, man, I was just telling you to go for so you can get your fucking dick wet.”
Eijirou shoved him, smiling.
Every few trained souls could read and interpret the meaning of his words behind the insults, the jokes, the jabs; Eijirou earned that one. No truer fucking friend. He didn’t make friends especially not with the current world order so it was a testament he would lay down his life for Eijirou. Had. About did. Kind of figured out some surprising truths about himself; immune in a world were that immunity could and nearly did skin his hide raw. You would be shocked how crazy and scared people get when you brought up cures. Some people were so wired to the new world that they didn’t want a back button. Some were greedy to cultivate it for their personal gain. Some wanted to put Katsuki through the most inhumane testing, exposing him repeatedly to the infection, harvesting copious amounts of his blood, using test subject after test subject, confining him to a three by four room with armed guards.
So yea; cold truths in a colder world with people so gruesome you wanted a DNA test to confirm their humanity. They’d been through hell for years. Went through something worse than hell when they found out Katsuki was immune. Eijirou could’ve stayed back; instead he decked Katsuki hard across the jaw that fell on his ass when he’d suggested it.
He wanted a happy ending for Eijirou.
“Like I’m the scared one,” Eijirou hinted, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’ve been stuck on him for weeks and you haven’t made your move. Now you’re the scaredy cat in this one, man.”
“What the fuck you talking about?” Katsuki dismissed with a scoff.
“Man, I might be a dull tool in the shed but I ain’t blind. Clear as day. You and Izuku.” Eijirou leaned his head on his shoulder, sighing with mock lovesickness and batted his lashes. “It might be true love.”
He pushed him off; normally he could master his face and maintain its blankness but hell was he grinning so damn hard. Flushing bright like a firefly. Fuck. Izuku; stars, was Katsuki so hooked on the guy. “Fuck off.”
“You came here for him. Go on,” Eijirou herded with an arm wave. “Romance away.”
“He’s with Shouto.”
“Oh, yea, you were out when it happened. They split. Three weeks ago.”
Okay, that was not his heart fluttering with hope. “Shut the fuck up.”
He patted his chest and said with a drunken slur. “On my honor.”
“Why?”
“Fell outta love,” Eijirou said.
Katsuki scoffed. “You saying Izuku dumped him for me? Now that’s horseshit.”
He shrugged. “I mean, your name was called in bed so…You tell me. Is Izuku smitten with you or what?”
“You’re so full of shit.”
Eijirou pinched his lips and whistled. “Shouto! My man.”
“Hey,” said Shouto.
“So tell Katsuki, you guys broke it off, right?”
Katsuki swallowed his helping of whiskey down the wrong pipe and hacked unattractively. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Shouto smiled, polite. “It’s no bother. It was mutual.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that, I guess,” said Katsuki, feeling less like an asshole.
Now he wouldn’t go far as to call Shouto a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy, not anymore. They stepped on each other’s toes a lot at the start. Headstrong, stubborn to a fucking fault, and skilled beyond measure. Shouto did everything by the book, avoided trouble whenever possible, straight and narrow guy. Meanwhile, Katsuki was in knee deep in violence, gunfire, and blood.
Shouto lifted one shoulder, way calmer with the topic than Katsuki initially predicted. Shit, if Izuku was his and he left him, and especially on account of another man taking his heart; fuck, you would need an army of clickers to be between you and him because it was war now. “Been drifting apart. Little by little. It happens.”
“Wouldn’t know about that,” Katsuki said; his romantic history can be pitifully summarized in a few words ‘dry handys with nobodies’. “Still, it fucked up.”
“I want him happy,” Shouto continued, truth to his words and inside his brown and blue eyes. Guessed a small portion of that was what reeled Izuku in, after the cutthroat insanity that made up Shouto’s hard jawline and body, the ability to move logically, his quiet humanity and humility. “He wants me happy too. So…yeah. Ain’t how I saw it ending but there’s no bad blood if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“What, you got a thing for someone else?” Eijirou pried shamelessly.
Katsuki smacked the back of his head, huffing in frustration. “Man, I’m this close,” he pinched an inch of air between his thumb and index finger, “to cutting you off.”
Shouto shook his head. “God, rumors spread fast huh?”
“I know this is kinda rude to say but this is reminding me of those movies people used to watch. It was all about relationships and drama.”
“It’s better than the alternative,” Shouto said. “…And yea, there’s someone.”
They waited.
Then Eijirou pried again, “You’re really gonna leave us in the dark, man?”
“Yes,” laughed Shouto.
“But I’m dying to know who!”
Shouto gave a half smile. “Then die.”
“You’re a dick,” Eijirou pouted.
Katsuki threw his head back with a full body laugh. “Coulda told ya that myself.”
“Alright, now you two are getting cheeky with me.”
“Holy fuck. ‘Cheeky’? God you’re fucking horrible,” Katsuki snarked.
“Eijirou!” Mina called, drenched in sweat as she left the dancefloor. “Dance with me,” she said, offering her hand.
Eijirou shrunk in front of her natural beauty and brilliant smile; a total wuss, really. He clammed up whenever Mina talked to him or laughed at his shitty jokes. He’d seen the guy gun down a dozen clickers without freezing but a pretty girl with curls, russet dark skin, and dangerous curves—confidence, what confidence. “What about, uh Shindo?”
“He wanted to drink with his buddies. Besides,” she took ownership of his calloused, nail-bitten hand, looking a hell of a lot happier and in love than she did taking Shindo’s. “You’re so much better at it than him.”
Katsuki kicked him in the rear when Eijirou stared back dumbly. “Remember what I said about pussies?”
“…No?”
“Don’t be one, asshole,” he said to Eijirou. “Go, take him, Mina. He smells like ass.”
Eijirou gaped. “I do?”
Mina winked. “Aye, aye, sir. Will do.”
“You two have patrol tomorrow, dumbasses, don’t get too fucked up” Katsuki reminded them as they weaved through the bodies.
“I think that’s the sweetest you’ve ever been,” said Shouto with the most put on expression of bewilderment. “I feel faint.”
“Oh, get fucked, Shouto.”
He smirked into his glass. “I plan to. Tonight. If she’s, uh, interested too. I think she is but I ain’t sure. Izuku told me to go for it.”
“I hope you have a rubber.”
“I meant kissing.”
“I said ‘get fucked’. Then you said, ‘I plan to,” Katsuki did a condescending impression of Shouto, “that implies sex.”
“Well, I couldn’t be so forward.”
“…You’re so annoying sometimes,” he sighed, turning his head to observe the crowd in front of them.
Izuku found his passing eyes, and waved stupidly.
Katsuki returned it.
“Don’t break his heart,” Shouto said.
Katsuki blinked. “What?”
“Okay, I know you’re an idiot on occasion but you’re not that big of one.”
“He—?” Katsuki’s eyes landed on Izuku, then back on Shouto.
Shouto rolled his eyes. “This is so unlike you. Yes, Katsuki. And before you think anything, you break his heart or leave him crying or anything of the sort—“
“You’ll fuck me up?” Katsuki asked; not issued as a challenge or even with the company of a derisive smirk like Shouto could ever take him down in fisticuffs; in half surprise and half amazement actually because it served as confirmation.
I can…
We can…
Me and Izuku..
Damn, does this shit happen to assholes like me?
Shouto licked the residue of beer off his lips. “Yea. So don’t break it.”
“Are you fucking giving me your blessing?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” he gulped. “Cool, then.”
Shouto laughed, clapped Katsuki on the shoulder, who was still recuperating from the reveal and stumbled forward before he regained his balance.
Katsuki hitched a brow in honest confusion.
Shouto motioned his head at the familiar curls making a trail through the crowd. “Take your own advice. Go for it,” he advised, then took off smiling as Katsuki stood speechless.
Shouto passed Izuku and touched his shoulder, making a small comment to him, then made off.
“Kacchan,” Izuku said, with this relief, like he was waiting all this time too. Waiting, Pinning. Wanting Katsuki bad as him, and it was overwhelming to have the knowledge that Izuku did do all those things for weeks. On about Katsuki. On to the point he’d stolen Izuku’s soft heart like the shit he was. They’re both kind of trembling now, anxious, aware; none brought it up though. Like ignoring dark clouds. “Gosh, you dragged your butt, didn’t you?”
Katsuki inhaled; felt like he hadn’t done that shit in a while; you dig? He opened his mouth, having no words for a solid second. “Piss off,” he tried to laugh casually. “At least my ass showed. You know what, I think I might walk out right now.”
Izuku lunged for his arm and jerked Katsuki off the bar and into him; Katsuki strong reflexes were the sole reason his drink didn’t jostle out of his grip and shatter. When the person who coined the phrase ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’, they were thinking of someone like Izuku. Seeing him, you wouldn’t think much.
Katsuki pegged him for a weakling at the start, the world snuffed out softness like him and anyone soft anywhere hadn’t been out there, living on the outside, in rotting houses, splintered roads, abandoned cars, walking through phantom cities unhabitable for people, not knowing much or experiencing much. Cause no one could go outside and return whole; expect Izuku did. Been down the shitter like him, lost a lot of loved ones, left some in dire situations when there was no fucking chance you could get them, slept with a gun under his pillow, lived with multiple scars upon scars you would think someone made him up of spare limbs; and he still had a heart for the world, had hope that gave you hope, left your holes full.
“Stay, please,” Izuku whispered, the command full with emotion.
“Yea.” He wet his lips. “Yea. Okay.”
“C’mon,” Izuku led him through the crowd until he found an empty space for them and set Katsuki’s hands at the small of his back and looped his over Katsuki’s neck. The upbeat tempo of the banjo changed to a melody soft and delicate, and without knowing a great deal of music, he knew it was a song about lovers. It cemented the moment, made it all the more real.
“So, how did the run go?” he asked; side to side they moved; somehow the room around them, alive with movement, laughter, and people, minimized.
“Okay, I guess. No one’s dead.”
“You get me anything?”
Katsuki went to the efforts of looking as though he was trying to remember if he did, and bobbed his head side to side with a hum. “Might’ve found some books for you,” he said after a few seconds of deliberation.
Izuku curled his bottom lip under his teeth, pressuring white on the skin. “You’re awesome.”
“This is not news to me, but thanks.”
The humorous nature in his face folded up and sincerity traded its place. His eyes skimmed all over Katsuki, never resting, looking and looking for wounds, perhaps. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece.”
“Yea, so I can get you more shit. You’re so fucking greedy.”
“Then maybe you should hang out with me less,” Izuku suggested, smile playful.
He didn’t intend to, it was a slip of control, but his hands clenched tighter on Izuku’s back. “I would but you’d just stalk me.”
Izuku’s smile dropped again.
Katsuki asked, “What?”
Whatever weighing on Izuku’s mind took a lot of time and courage to come out because he averted his attention to their moving feet, to the clean clothes Katsuki gratefully slipped into after weeks of being on foot with nothing but the literal clothes on his back, then to the faint pink lightning jagged scars visible on his collarbones produced by Viper fast silver knives and a few bullets that marginally missed his vitals; then, he managed solid eye contact. Fingers manipulated with the short hairs on his nape. Curled them. Twined. Such a small, priceless demonstration of intimacy.
“I…I’m not with Shouto,” he confessed.
Maybe Izuku’s burst of courage was snatched from Katsuki’s supply because now he avoided it by looking at the wall beyond them. “Yea. Heard through the grapevine.”
Izuku laid his cheek on Katsuki’s chest. “We were taken by other people. We were just kinda scared to hurt each other, but then it turned out we weren’t and that we just wanted each other happy.”
“That’s good.”
With the thin thread count of his shirt, Katsuki felt the pretty, smooth curl of Izuku’s mouth, the cooling effect of his breath fanning on the beading layer of perspiration from being under the webs of white twinkle lights. “You are making this very hard to do.”
Okay, it was in bad taste to prolong this torture; Katsuki couldn’t fucking help himself with this damn gift given to him—Izuku confessing, horribly—but his track record sucked already so what was another tally on him. “What?”
“See,” Izuku accused, finger pointing like a child with no manners as he spotted the fox sharp crooked grin fully sported with no sense of courtesy or diplomacy. “You know but you keep making me say it.”
Katsuki continued to play dumb. “Say what?”
“…That I’m taken…with you,” Izuku got the words out pathetically, done with the same energy one gave when their mother demanded they make nice with the kid down the block.
“Taken?”
“Oh, you,” Izuku pursed his mouth in loud annoyance.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Katsuki moved his thumb, dragged it down Izuku’s damp spine. “I guess I’m taken. Too.”
“How is this happening?” Izuku wondered.
“What?”
“You. How did I get you?”
“You’re acting like I’m some fucking gift to the world,” Katsuki dismissed, disliking the implication he offered anything good to anyone when half the people in his life ended up dead by association or dead by opposition.
Izuku’s rough palms whispered softly up the side of his neck, to the bone of his jaw, until they’re taking a strand of humid freezy hair and locking it over the shell of his ear. “Kacchan. You’ve got no idea what you are to this world.”
Izuku eyed his mouth for a short moment for Katsuki to read his intentions, the next course of action from him so he could stop if he wanted, then leaned forward, bridging the minor difference in height between them and pressed his mouth softly, still half convinced that his advances might be rejected.
Izuku went back and stared.
Katsuki grabbed his face, no kindness in his actions, and crashed their lips together like their time was borrowed. “Show me, Izuku.”
Izuku shivered in his hold, hazy eyes a drunken shade of lust watched back. “Okay,” he ran his hand down Katsuki’s bicep, then forearms where his tattoo masked the five-year-old clicker bite. “I’ll show you all the good I see.”
“Might never find anything.”
“I will. I’m very good at navigating through dark places.”