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“What the fuck” Katsuki breathed as a man with an atrocious dye job (red and white split down the middle like some fucked up human candy cane) and an even more atrocious Christmas sweater walked into the store. The sweater was bright green and covered in rows of tiny Santas and Christmas trees with the words ‘Santa Claus is a Conspiracy Theory’ in the center.
The red of his hair and the green of the sweater really should’ve clashed- but somehow that wasn’t the case. How the fuck was he pulling off that hair and that outfit?
Katsuki ignored the handsome stranger that day, it was only half an hour to his lunch break after all.
But the stranger kept showing up, every day at the same time in progressively worse Christmas sweaters. He never bought anything or tried anything on, just browsed the store. This had been going on for at least 2 weeks now. At one point he had been accompanied by a friend, a girl with a spiky black ponytail who seemed to have a much more sensible fashion sense and giggled once when she caught Shouto looking at him.
Katsuki openly stared at him but as time passed he thought less about the ugly Christmas sweaters and more about him. Half of his hair was white the colour of fresh snow in the crisp winter air, and the other half red like the fire that burned in Katsuki’s soul. His left eye was surrounded by scarred red skin, but it did nothing to detract from his beauty, his eyes (there was something about them but he never got close enough to see them properly), the way the tips of his ears were tinged red when he caught Katsuki staring, how soft his lips looked (did he taste of peppermint and Christmas and hot chocolate?)
This went on for a while, they never even talked to each other before the day before Christmas. But when Shouto walked into the store that day all Katsuki thought was No, absolutely not. Katsuki was staging an intervention. In all these days, he’d never said anything. Somehow, he had been pulling off what must have been some of the ugliest Christmas sweaters in existence. But this one, this was the last straw.
The sweater in question was bright red with a brick pattern, this alone was pretty bad, but that wasn’t the worst part. On the man's chest, there was a plush reindeer head that protruded from a Christmas wreath with baubles. That sweater would have to be burned, incinerated.
“You’ve been coming in here every day for weeks and that... sweater, if you can call it that, might be the worst thing I’ve ever seen” He was breaking his silence, this was too far.
“This is a Christmas tradition, is it not?”
“What never celebrated Christmas before?” Katsuki asked sarcastically
“No actually”, he replied
Katsuki stared at the stranger incredulously, “What do you mean no, you look like a candy cane”
“Thats my natural hair colour,"
“Bullshit, Why do you keep coming here every day anyway”
Shouto blushed and looked away scrambling for an explanation
“Uhm I was looking for clothes”, Shouto nodded satisfied with his excuse, yes that's what you did in clothes stores.
The blonde man, Katsuki, his nametag informed him, stared at him, his eyes red and piercing. Katsuki may be the cutest guy he had ever seen (something told him he wouldn’t like being called cute).
“You’ve never even tried anything on”
Time to turn the tables, “so you’ve been looking at me?” something hopeful flickers through Shouto's eyes.
“How could I not when you're wearing shit like this.” Katsuki gestured wildly trying to convey his general disgust.
Suddenly. “Ok so maybe I’ve been coming back here every day just to see you”
“This is literally the first time we’ve had an actual conversation candy cane”
The man's gaze turned incredulous, he splutters, “Candy cane?”
“Your fucking hair, ‘sides it's not like I know your name”
“I’m Shouto, and I told you this is natural”
“Sure, Shouto”
Shouto flushed prettily. God, he shouldn’t have told him to call him by his given name. Katsuki made his name sound like something to be treasured, like something intimate, poetry.
He watched his own name fall from pretty pink lips and he wanted to hear it over and over and over. Would Katsuki like the way he said his name.
“Katsuki”
The blond freezes and buries his face in his hands.
“Burn that sweater.” Katsuki mumbles.
“Oh, eager to get me out of my clothes huh Kat-su-ki?” Shouto singsonged, he’d seen this in one of Momos romance books once.
“Shut the fuck up and let me put together an outfit that's not… that”
“Oh you want to- uh fine I guess”, Shouto walked to the back of the store and found an empty changing room. Meanwhile, Katsuki knew exactly what to give him.
When Shouto finally stepped out of the dressing room, Katsukis breath caught in his throat.
“That’s fucking better”
Shouto is wearing a black turtleneck that matches his shoes and a pair of dark blue slacks.
Shouto (somehow) looked good in the ugly sweaters he had seen him in up until today. But it was incomparable to the man who stood before him now. Shouto seemingly oblivious to his own charm smiled and Katsuki fell.
“How do I look?”
“Beautiful”
Katsuki coughed out a “sorry” at the same time Shouto said he looked beautiful too. Shouto bought the ensemble. As he walked out of the store he turned around one last time.
“Hey Katsuki, do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?”
“That sounds good”
With this exchange, Shouto left the store. Several hours later as he went to unpack the clothes he bought, he realized he’d never gotten Katsukis number, fuck. But as he smoothed out the slacks he felt something in the pocket. Curious, he pulled a folded piece of paper out of the pocket. It had a phone number hastily scribbled on it in angry writing. Shouto smiled to himself fondly and entered it into his phone. He’d text him later.