Work Text:
Katsuki knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. “I’m back,” he said, slamming the door behind himself.
Shouto didn’t even look up. “Mhm,” he hummed nonchalantly, flipping through the pile of documents on his desk. He had to find what he was looking for, as his lips curled up slightly and his eyes flickered through the text. “Any troubles?” He asked, finally acknowledging Katsuki’s presence.
“Save it,” Katsuki scoffed. “I know how to do my job.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have been offended by it, but Shouto’s stupid questions annoyed him every single time. He knew how to pull the fuckin’ trigger; he knew how not to leave either any evidence or witnesses. And he didn’t need some entitled bastard to check with him every few seconds, as if he were a clueless child.
Even if that entitled bastard was his boss. And boyfriend.
“As far as I’m concerned,” Shouto spoke again in that silky, smug voice of his, “you happened to fail once before. So, I’m just making sure.” He looked up eventually, locking his eyes on Katsuki.
“Once. It happened once,” Katsuki hissed. “And if I didn’t,” he added, walking up to the desk and leaning above it, his face mere inches from Shouto’s, “you would be fuckin’ dead, sweetheart.”
Shouto’s lips curled up. “I know,” he said calmly. “What does it change?”
“What does it change?” Katsuki repeated under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, you’re insufferable.”
“Sure thing, baby. Sure thing.”
“No problems, fucker didn’t even notice me. I took care of everything,” Katsuki said, deciding to play along. He sat on the edge of the desk, despite Shouto’s scolding glare, and leaned in to take a look at the document in Shouto’s hands. “What’s that?”
“A cover business,” Shouto said. “A club, quite fancy.”
Katsuki frowned, taking another look. “That’s not even yours,” he pointed out.
“My father’s.”
“Your father doesn’t have a shit anymore,” Katsuki grumbled, snatching the document from Shouto’s hands. The company registration papers. On Enji Todoroki’s name, signed last month. Which should be, simply speaking, impossible. “I brought you his fuckin’ head, didn’t I?” He clicked his tongue, tossing the paper away. “The fuck does that mean?”
Shouto sighed and then chuckled weakly. Katsuki knew him long enough, or maybe well enough, to know it wasn’t a good sign. It was never a good sign. “The bastard haunts me even from beyond the grave,” he whispered.
Katsuki stared at him. His hands trembled ever so slightly; if Katsuki were any less perceptive, he wouldn’t notice. “Calm the fuck down,” he said gruffly. "Some motherfucker is impersonating him or some shit. His men have been going on a rampage around the city for months."
“I am calm.”
“The fuck you are.” He sighed and stood up, his eyes never leaving Shouto. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” Shouto insisted. He looked down at his hands, his brows furrowing. “I’m just… a bit concerned.”
“I can see that.” Katsuki circled the desk and stopped behind Shouto. He didn’t notice it before, but now it was clear that Shouto tried to mask his anxiety behind his usual demeanour, confident and collected, just a bit sassy. “You don’t have to hide shit from me, ya know that?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Yet you’re not telling me everything.”
Shouto sighed. “Because I don’t have to. It’s none of your business.”
Katsuki sneered. “None of my business?” He repeated, his hands sliding down Shouto’s arms as he leaned in and lowered his voice to a firm whisper. “It is my business. You are my business.”
“Didn’t take you for a romantic,” Shouto deadpanned.
“Stop joking around,” Katsuki scowled. “I’m serious, Shouto.”
“That’s what worries me.”
Katsuki sighed. “You’re stubborn,” he whispered, tilting Shouto’s chin up so their eyes met. “I will help you, yeah? You can count on me.”
Shouto’s eyes softened as he stared into Katsuki’s. “I know.”
“We’ll go through it together,” he promised. “I don’t really mind killing your old man once again.”
A smile, barely here, bloomed on Shouto’s face. “Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s fucking do it.”