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Katsuki was sprawled out on his bed, flipping through a textbook. He couldn’t say what was on the pages—he couldn’t really focused on it. He knew he should have been, but the last few days had been really stressful. He felt like he was no closer to getting his Provisional Hero License than he was after the last class.
It also wasn’t helping that he was feeling restless, or that his mind kept wandering back to the ‘spar’ that octopus fucker had tricked him into almost a week ago. It was downright embarrassing that he was so easily manipulated and manhandled. But he hadn’t felt the other feelings in a long time, either. It really had made him feel… lighter. But every time he thought about how easily he had been made helpless, unable to stop the tickling—or that he hadn’t even really said to—his nerves got all jumbled and he felt like he was on fire.
But, since then, he hadn’t felt the biting need to be a jerk to literally anyone. Not even Deku. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about that, though. Surely, his classmates would notice he was acting differently. They weren’t actually as dumb as he was constantly telling them they were. And then they’d think he was weak, and he couldn’t have that.
Octopus Arms doesn’t think I’m weak.
You don’t actually know that! You don’t know anything about him. You’ve barely even looked at him all week.
Letting out a growl of frustration, he slammed his textbook closed and shoved it away from himself so hard, it clattered to the floor. He didn’t care. He slipped from his room and found himself rooted in front of the octopus' door, fist raised to knock before he even knew what he was doing. But he paused. Should I? There’s no way the extra had been serious.
Come find me.
He held his breath, closed his eyes, and inched his fist forward to knock.
Laughter reached his ears, and then the tell-tale sound of a short-circuited Dunce Face. “Shit!” He needed to get out of here, the voices were getting closer. He glanced at the closed door in front of him before darting back to his room, his door snapping shut just as the Bakusquad rounded the corner. Exhaling, he listened as Kirishima’s door opened and closed, the voices muffled but still easily heard.
He threw himself onto his bed and just willed himself to sleep. He couldn’t think about that right now, or he was going to explode. Probably.
Mezou was finishing up an assignment for their Heroics Ethics class when he heard footsteps rapidly approaching his door. Then silence, followed by an awkward shuffle.
“Shit!” It was soft but gruff.
He made his way to the door—pulling up the mask he had pooled around his neck—cracking it open just as laughter and other chatter reached his ears. He saw a shadow disappearing into Bakugou’s room, and then the rest of the ‘Bakusquad’ rounded the corner, disappearing into Kirishima’s room. They hadn’t noticed him.
He stared down the hall for a few moments. Bakugou had wanted to talk to him? He didn’t know what he could possibly want to talk to him about. They’d not spoken before. Except last week—Oh. He stood in the doorway, debating if he should go after the other teen. He shook the thought away. Bakugou seemed like the kind of guy who wanted to do things on his own terms.
Mezou could wait.
He disappeared back into his room, a small smile on his lips as he lowered his mask.
—
The next day in class, Mezou kept a—discreet—watchful eye on Bakugou. He seemed more agitated than he had in the last few days. He kept scrubbing a hand through his hair, and the air of the classroom was quickly smelling of his explosions. He knew Bakugou’s supplemental lessons weren’t exactly going great, by way of the gossip of the Bakusquad.
He was getting aggressive with his words again, and Mezou could tell that his classmates had started growing used to the slightly nicer Bakugou. He sighed. He wasn’t going to chase after the fiery teen this time. He didn’t want to accidentally ruin something the teen loved by using it against him too harshly. So, he’d wait. He was sure Bakugou would come around.
It was after classes and most of the class was gathered in the common room when Mezou got back from the gym. Kirishima, Ashido, Kaminari, Sero and Bakugou were missing. He didn’t really pay it any mind as he made his way up to his room.
He could hear voices through the wall he shared with Kirishima; it sounded like an argument. He couldn’t make out most of the words, but he heard a snarled, “Piss off!” and an explosion and then Kirishima’s door bursting open so hard it crashed into something. Heavy footsteps retreated down the hall. The room beyond his wall was very silent.
“I wonder if something else is wrong…?” Ashido questioned, almost too quiet for Mezou to hear.
“I’m not sure, he seemed to be in a better mood the last few days. Should we go talk to him?” The door was closed after that, the voices getting even quieter.
Mezou had a pretty good idea what the issue was, but he felt like they had made a baby step of progress and he didn’t want to undo that by being too pushy.
Katsuki slammed his door shut, leaning bodily against it as he released a haggard breath. Why was he feeling this way? It couldn’t really be because he wanted to be tickled—that was just crazy. Just because he liked it, and it had been literal years since anyone last tickled him—afraid to be hurt after his quirk came in.
Damnit, I used it against Octopus Arms, clearly, they had reason to be afraid. Was it always going to be like that? Or maybe since he already knew, then Katsuki wouldn’t need to resort to that—subconsciously, or otherwise. He sighed. He should probably apologize—and about some other stuff. But he didn’t know if he could face him.
Come find me.
Katsuki sucked in a breath, letting his head fall back against his door. Come find me. So far, the multi-armed teen had kept his word and not told anyone about their ‘spar’... did that mean he was being honest about this, too?
Katsuki could feel his heart racing as he quietly eased his door open. He looked up and down the hall; deserted. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the hall, quietly closing his door. His bare feet slapped quietly against the wood flooring, making his pulse jump with every step. This was absolutely ridiculous.
Am I really about to do this?
All too soon, he found himself planted outside the octopus’ door. I should probably stop calling him that… He sucked in a breath, and then quietly, hesitantly, knocked on the other student’s door. This was a bad idea. He took a step back as footsteps drew near from the other side. The door eased open, Octop—Shouji stood in the doorway—his face obscured like always—his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise.
“F-Forget it, I don’t—” Katsuki started, cutting himself off abruptly as Kirishima’s door opened, his eyes widening in alarm. Logically, he knew no one would know why he was standing here. But he still couldn’t help the rising panic.
Sero started into the hallway, though he was twisted around as he called back into the room, “I’ll be right back, gonna grab some snacks!”
He could see Oc—Shouji’s expression, eyes searching his, in a second that seemed to stretch on forever. And then, he was being pulled into the taller student’s room. the door closed silently, like it had never been opened at all. They stood in silence for a beat, then two. The only sound was Katsuki’s slightly ragged breathing and the faint chatter bleeding through the wall this room shared with the next.
“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Bakugou groaned, his hands finding his hair and ruffling through it.
Mezou gestured to the floor cushion by his desk and then perched on his bedroll. “Something’s obviously on your mind,” he said gently, leaning back on his palms. The rest of his limbs were tucked away, save for the one he was using to talk.
Bakugou stilled, then shifted his weight around, his hands flexing, but no pops came. Sighing, he moved over to the floor cushion and dropped into it, glaring at his hands, but Mezou could see a blush taking over his cheeks. “I hadn’t been… tickled… in years—before our ‘spar’," he said, air quotes and all.
Years?! Mezou frowned. If he reacted like in the gym—so clearly enjoying himself, so obvious even under his gruff exterior that Mezou is sure he’s had since he was young.
“After my quirk came in, it happened less and less,” Bakugou said, gradually getting quieter as he spoke, his shoulders shrugging up to his ears. “It was always fun, I thought. But then I was sure that if anyone knew I… liked it… that they would think I was weak.”
“So the tiny explosions, they’re just your nerves?”
Bakugou nodded minutely.
The room was still, Katsuki didn’t think he could meet Shouji’s eyes. He opened his mouth, just as familiar fingers found his sides. His head snapped up to find Shouji watching him intently as he squirmed. He couldn’t help but glare at the larger teen, but it didn’t seem very effective with the giggles that were starting to pour from him. Is he really going to…
The fingers had stilled, but they were still there, waiting… A third appendage found its way closer, and Katsuki had to bite back a nervous squeal. “I think you could use a bit of a pick-me-up, what do you think?” Shouji’s voice teased against his ear before the mouth morphed into a hand, a finger gently teasing the shell of his ear.
Katsuki shrugged and swatted at his hand. A shaky grin stretched across his face—all he could do was offer a nod. A deep chuckle reached his ears and Katsuki’s stomach flipped. Before he could otherwise react, strong hands were tugging him into Shouji’s lap, his back pressed to the teen’s chest—almost the same way as it had been a week ago.
It was only one hand per side, but they knew exactly what they were doing, as they slowly inched higher. Katsuki tucked his arms in protectively, but the hands had already found their marks. “NGHEHEhehemhmhmphhehe!” He flailed, he squirmed, but he couldn’t get up. He tried to tuck his arms against his sides. Muffled voices sounded through from the wall that shared space with Kirishima’s room.
“Shh, they might hear you…” came Shouji’s voice from somewhere, low and teasing. His fingers switched direction, heading toward his hips.
Katsuki gasped, slapping his hands over his mouth, breathing in slowly through his nose. He knew his squirms were pitiful, but he didn’t care. Fingers trailed slowly up the back of his ribs. “Mmhhmhphehe!” He arched, eyes widening as firm hands found his elbows, slowly forcing them out and up.
No… not there, not here… Katsuki is pretty sure he whined—Shouji had said his secret would be safe. If he went there…
“Relax, I’m not going to do anything to ruin this game we’re playing…” the taller boy assured, right before a finger wormed its way into each of his shirt sleeves, slowly circling his hollows.
Katsuki snickered against his hands, his eyes squeezing shut as he twisted helplessly, but the grip on his elbows was firm, they were not coming down. And then fingers were dancing down his ribs, away from that spot, and he could have sighed in relief, but another hand danced across his stomach. He jerked, sucking his tummy in. “MPpffftthmhhehe!”
Another finger found each armpit, circling slow for a moment before they were drilling deep into the centers of his hollows. Bakugou pulled against his elbows with a shrill snicker, arching helplessly. He was glaring at Shouji for all he was worth, but he had no idea if the boy even noticed.
Another hand had found his stomach, kneading so ticklishly into the muscle that he tried to bring a leg up in defense, but a firm squeeze to the thigh had it shooting back down with a snort.
“Oh…?” Shouji murmured, his fingers slowly crawling to a stop. Katsuki did not appreciate the way his heart rate spiked. He knew the boy could hear it. Hands shot out, catching Katsuki’s ankles and lifting his legs straight out.
Duplicates stretched toward Katsuki’s feet. He curled his toes, but they were easily forced back, stretching his soles taut. “F-Fuck!” he kicked, his hands slapping over his mouth again. He did not like how exposed he felt. Who am I kidding…
Oh, so gently, blunt nails were sliding up his taut soles, from his heels, all the way to just under his pulled-back toes. Katsuki tried to double over, tried to pull away from the prison that was his classmate, but he couldn’t get any give. “Mghehehefhfhmfmf!”
And then, hands descended upon his thighs, squeezing and kneading into the flesh. Katsuki bucked, kicking his legs helplessly—the boy’s damn nails still stroking his taut soles, so slowly, so gentle. “NYAHHMPHhmhmhhmh!!” Fuck! I can’t—If I open my mouth right now, I’m screwed.
For a moment, he was just lost in the sensations battling in his brain. It was fun, but the fear of being heard was slowly eating away at that. He had to get him to stop before it was too late.
Thumbs dug into the curve of his thighs, sending Katsuki slamming back into the boy’s chest, dissolving into a myriad of snorts and squeals, his legs jerking uselessly. His head whipped back and forth, and he did the only thing he could think of— he forced a hand from his mouth and frantically snapped his fingers.
Everything stopped, Shouji was slowly releasing him, but Katsuki could do nothing but giggle as he slid to the floor. He felt pleasant, and a bit like goo. Faintly, he heard Shouji moving around the room. And then he saw a bottle of water being set by his hand.
“I didn’t go too far, did I?” Shouji asked, sounding a bit unsure of himself. Katsuki leaned his head back slightly to see the boy awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
Katsuki grabbed the bottle of water from the floor, taking a long pull before answering. “No,” he said with a slight rasp. “I just… it was getting harder to keep quiet,” he said, looking off to the side. “It was a lot of fun though,” he admitted after a minute, a blush covering his face from ear to ear.
“Ah, yeah… the dorm probably isn’t the best place to be discreet,” Shouji chuckled. He moved over to his desk and grabbed his phone, passing it to Katsuki. “Give me your number. Then you can text me, next time. If you prefer.”
Katsuki quickly entered his number, finishing the bottle of water before getting to his feet. He was feeling awkward. He shuffled to the door, laying a hand on the doorknob before pausing. “Thanks… Shouji.”
And then he snuck back to his room, feeling light and relaxed once more. Maybe he could get used to this…