14

Katsuki feels like absolute shit.

His entire body feels heavy and leaden, his chest feels like a fat baby is sitting on it, and he swears there's a tiny portable fan and a bucket of sand positioned in front of his eyes, making them gritty and painful. Katsuki rubs at them, refusing to be defeated by this bubbling childish shit that's begging to spill out of him.

No, shut the fuck up. Katsuki does not get all weepy over a boy. Any boy. Absolutely not fucking Deku, of all people. If anyone told him, two months ago, standing there slack jawed in Deku's kitchen, ready to commit manslaughter on a green-eyed life-ruiner, that he'd be near fucking alligator tears at the prospect of leaving without his boyfriend/stepbrother, well… He'd fucking launch that someone into the sun and laugh himself right back on to Boston, to continue his high-class, fuckin' blowing-everyone's-expectations-out-of-the-water-life.

Now, he's got these flowers growing from between his ribs, blooming every time they come in contact with Deku's radiant-ass smile. Each day, the vines and grass replace all his vital organs, until his chest is just a home for all these goddamn butterflies that won't stop flying, dancing, fluttering. He doesn't know what to do with this feeling. Wishes that he could pack it up, just like all his belongings, and send it far, far away. Its unbearable, the beating of tiny wings vibrating against his heart. Even worse that they only calm when Katsuki is in his proximity.

Deku's been weird. Fucking clingy as shit. He's been climbing into his bed every night, not even slightly deterred by Katsuki pushing his needy ass back onto the floor the first few times. He'd catch the oblivious fuck staring at him across the dinner table, leering at him when Katsuki's trying to study, watching him with those lecherous eyes every time he so much as stretches. Katsuki's sure that if he woke up in the middle of the night, he'd meet black irises staring back at him. Katsuki shudders. Its fucking creepy.

No more creepy than the fact that Katsuki's jacked a bottle of Deku's shampoo from the bathroom and sneakily packed it into his bag. Look. He's just a man. And waking up, nose first in that mop of curly hair is otherworldly. Like waking up in a fucking spring meadow. Fucking Deku and his sunshine freckles and his vibrant smile and the laughter like windchimes in the summer breeze – fuck. Fucker.

His folks are talking animatedly, asking him a shitload of questions on the drive to the airport. Katsuki, however, can't focus. He's too aware of Deku, folded in on himself, face pressed against the window, deathly silent. Not even muttering to himself. It was creepy enough to have those emerald eyes always trained on him – Katsuki finds that not having those eyes on him is infinitely more distressing. He presses against his chest, somehow hoping that the heaviness, the aching will dissipate. It doesn't.

Katsuki's never felt like this before. Not really. When he left for the first time, there was definitely something, something that didn't want to sever from Deku. But he cut that string without a second thought. Then, it only stood to tether him, to keep him from what he wanted. What he deserved. Now, he feels like him and Deku are on opposite ends of a Chinese finger trap. The farther he tries to get, the harder it is to let go. The only relief is when they're together.

He's pretty sure he's dying by the time the car pulls over and his dad pulls his bag from the trunk. Half-heartedly, he hugs his father, then his step-mother. Deku's standing outside the car too, staring at the ground, arms wrapped around his own waist in the most fucking pitiful way Katsuki's ever seen. He wants to smother the little shit in a hug, but he can't. So he doesn't. He just gives his step-brother a curt nod and starts to walk towards the terminal.

It takes him a second to realize that Deku's jogging after him. Katsuki raises his eyebrows, and his step-brother smiles back sheepishly. "I'll walk you in?"

Katsuki grunts past the lump in his throat, but keeps his eyes forward, growing way too hot despite the blast of air-conditioning from the airport entrance.

They walk silently for as long as they can, but they reach the security gate in minutes. Katsuki stops, and so does Deku. Two feet apart, the silence feels like a ravine, and Katsuki had to admit, this shit's awkward. Just when he's about to turn around and walk away, Deku pulls a fucking box out of nowhere and thrusts it towards Katsuki. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows expectantly, and looks back up to Deku.

"What the fuck, no." Katsuki responds.

"Please!" Izuku begs, eyes earnest. "It's a gift!"

"You making me lug garbage cross country? Fuckin' waste of space…"

"Its… I mean, you don't need to… I-I didn't… I don't know if you have room in your bag for it…" Izuku scuffs his shoe against the tile, and the stutter sets something soft loose in Katsuki's heart.

"What the fuck, just, give it here. Jesus. Idiot." Katsuki grabs at the box. With a grumble, Katsuki takes the unexpectedly heavy package and shoves it into his suitcase, coming back to a flinching Izuku, who rallies his facial expression into something a bit more neutral. Katsuki makes a mental note to be more gentle with whatever the dork bought for him, knowing full well that its probably really fucking stupid and, knowing Deku, unreasonably expensive.

"…Kacchan, um."

Katsuki can't look Izuku in the eyes. That ghost that's blowing shreds of shrapnel right into Katsuki's eyes is back with a vengeance, and Katsuki has no words or punches or thoughts to make it go away. If Katsuki doesn't stop looking at Deku, if he doesn't get the fuck out of here, he might actually shed a tear. Katsuki hasn't cried since his parents got divorced – he doesn't want to know what kind of consequences that kind of catastrophe would have for the rest of the world, but he sure as shit isn't about to find out now.

"Well?" Katsuki rotates his wrist, looking somewhere behind Izuku. "Fuckin' on with it dweeb, our folks are in the loading and unloading zone, not the fucking stutter and stand around zone."

"Mean," Izuku responds immediately, and smiles as Katsuki finally meets his eyes. Yeah, there it is again. The fluttering sensation in Katsuki's stomach, the sensation that all these fucking butterflies are about to pour and maul Deku's cute stupid face. There's a breed of carnivorous butterflies, if Katsuki remembers, and Katsuki's convinced that they're out for blood.

"… I'm really gonna miss you," Izuku near-whispers, voice breaking. Katsuki feels all the air escape his lungs. The seconds pass between them like hours. Deku's not looking at him, staring at the ground, messing with the hem of his shirt in that fucking irritating nervous habit if his, and Katsuki physically stops himself from smacking Deku's hands.

Katsuki growls. "Me too. The fuck?" Like its obvious. Because it is obvious. It should be obvious. Katsuki's the best damn fucking boyfriend on this planet, so little shitty Deku thinks that he's not gonna miss the little green fuck?! He's gonna -

Katsuki's thought process is cut off by the soft warmth against his hand. Deku's looking up at him, hand gently cradling his, and his heart is in overdrive again. Despite himself, Katsuki feels the blush creep up his chest, trail up his neck and to the tips of his ears. He's too stunned to move. Even more so when he feels the other man's rough hands squeeze against his. One. Two. Three. The fuck? Why?

Katsuki doesn't have time to dwell on it, especially when his sweet little Deku stands up on his tippy toes in those gaudy-ass horrible red shoes, steadies himself with his other hand against Katsuki's shoulder, and fucking kisses him.

In a busy airport, surrounded by hundreds of people, Deku's chapped lips are grazing his own. Somehow, the taste of that tremoring softness is still sweetness, still strawberries and champagne, still bubbling giddiness. Katsuki feels like the world decided to spin a little faster for a brief second, the disequilibrium making his knees go weak. He almost doesn't notice, eyes closed at the sensation, as Izuku pulls back.

When Katsuki finally opens his eyes again, he locks them with emerald green, and the brief crazy thought that maybe he should stay, maybe he shouldn't leave, maybe he can stuff this pint-sized leprechaun into his carry-on and pass him off as a creepy puppet or an even creepier sex doll, and take Deku with him.

"…Um. Bye, Kacchan." Izuku says, lip retuning to it's rightful home between his teeth. Katsuki doesn't speak, doesn't move, frozen in space as the other man gives his shoulder one more squeeze and walks away. Katsuki comes to his senses and spins around, eyes searching the crowd for that unruly head of green hair. He finds the fucker near the entrance of the airport. Before he exits, he turns around. Tentatively, the green figure raises his arm and waves. Katsuki doesn't stop his dumbass hand when it offers a weak wave back.

Katsuki tries to put on music, tries to re-focus on his study material, tries to do anything but think of Deku. He fails miserably, and, surrounded by complete strangers, finally lets his body slump. This changes things. This changes his plans. He doesn't want it to, but it does. He never intended to come back to his hometown, to even apply to the medical school in his city, but fucking Deku got a job at Endeavor Industries already, right…? So where the fuck does that leave Katsuki?

On the airplane, Katsuki taps at his screen and looks out the window, the reality of the situation front and center in his brain. He brushes his fingertips against his lips, still tingling from the feel of Izuku pressed against him. It was the first time they kissed in public, and Katsuki has to admit, there was a certain thrill to it. Being out. Being open. Being together, no matter who saw. And who fucking cares, in the first place? Deku's a fuckin' catch, and he himself is the prize-winning shark. Anyone should be lucky to gaze upon them, kissing or fucking or otherwise.

A message on his phone gets his attention.

Dad: first family picture together!

Dad: amusementpark.jpeg

Dad: don't forget about us

Dad: try to come home for the holidays this year, son! We miss you!

Katsuki stares down at his phone.

Katsuki: Sure. Thanks.

Katsuki clicks on the attachment.

It's the picture of them from the amusement park. Katsuki's heart jumps into his throat. He zooms in on himself and Izuku. With the setting sun in front of them, bathing the two of them in shades of orange and pinks, Izuku's blush is so painfully obvious that Katsuki retrospectively feels bad for Ochako. His own hand is gripping onto Izuku's shoulder like the little fuck is filled with helium and might float away from him any second. Even the look on Katsuki's own face – he swears he was trying to grimace or frown or sneer or something else that would be more characteristically him – but the press of Deku against his side, the other boy's hands against his hips, him leaning his dumb green head into his shoulder. Fuck, he's such a sap. Katsuki's not even looking at the camera, his eyes instead focused on Izuku, a private, intimate moment caught indefinitely on camera.

Katsuki swallows and looks back out the window, blinking a few times. Then he zooms in, crops the picture, and clicks, 'Set as background.'

Deku🥦: Fly safe Kacchan!

Katsuki smirks.

Katsuki: Can't fucking control that, can I dipshit?

Deku🥦: Fine die then

Fucking Deku. Katsuki hides his dumbass smile behind his hands, earning an odd look from his neighbor.

Deku🥦: Please text me when you get home?

Deku🥦: Miss you already Kacchan

Katsuki: It won't be long, Deku

Katsuki sighs. Yeah. It's just a year. They've got holidays, vacations, weekends. Graduations.

He's fucking Katsuki Bakugou and he's gonna rock this long distance shit. Izuku better watch his ass.

A short train ride from the airport lands Katsuki in front of his apartment. He almost forgot how humid it gets in the summer, and he feels the sweat trickle down his sides as he rolls his bag down the sidewalk. There's people all around him, his neighborhood alive even though it's the middle of a weekday. He and Kaminari ended up sharing an apartment in a fairly bustling part of town – to Katsuki's annoyance at first, because he wasn't one to party, and his stupid roommate certainly was, but he was relieved when he found it extremely easy to sublet over the summer.

Katsuki, keyless, knocks on the door. He told the fucker to be home, and that little yellow bastard fucking promised. The door blasts open within seconds, Kaminari's face in Katsuki's, smile wide, bobbing up and down like an excited golden retriever.

"Katsu-baby! You're home, lover!" Kaminari calls out, leaning in for an exuberant hug that Katsuki expertly dodges to get into his apartment.

He notes the pile of shoes at the entrance and grimaces. Of course. Not like he can have a moment of peace in his entire goddamn life.

Denki Kaminari, his disaster roommate, bolts past him, landing a firm smack against his ass as he slides into the living room in his socks.

"Everyone! The prodigal ass returns!" Kaminari calls out, and Katsuki shakes his head at the resounding 'woop' coming from what he assumes, is the assembled idiot brigade.

He's already got a headache.

As he should expected, the whole idiot crew, plus his fucking subletter, are piled up on his couch, watching some dumbass reality show on his TV, drinking some sort of clear liquor from what he assumes are his mugs. In the middle of the day. On a Thursday. Jesus goddamn fucking…

"Ayyyy Brotherfucker Unlimited!" Sero calls out, raising a glass of sloshing liquid, smile wider than the rest of his face. Next to him, Ashido is chortling, spitting some of her drink back into her cup, while Kirishima pats her reassuringly on the back, simultaneously yelling much louder than needed, "Welcome home, Bakubro! How's the broyfriend?"

Katsuki ignores the jeering and makes a beeline for Kyoka, who too is holding a drink, hiding a giggle behind her hands. He fucking chose her to sublet because he thought she was actually not going to indulge in the bastard bunch's bullshit, but he clearly thought wrong.

"Even you?" he sneers, holding out his hand expectantly.

"Sorry, Bakugou." Jirou looks sincerely sorry, but she exchanges a playful grin with the rest of his crew. Katsuki shakes his head. "Thanks for letting me stay here. It's been fun."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't thank me, dumbass, you paid rent. Have fun with the detox and 'grats on the brain damage."

Kyoka Jirou hands her keys back to Katsuki. With the keys in hand, Katsuki turns around to face the rest of the group, watching him with curous eyes behind their cups.

"See this shit?" Katsuki asks, jungling his keys in front of his face. "Its my fucking place, so get the fuck out!"

"Boo! Don't you miss us?" Mina Ashido asks, fluffing her pink hair up, like that cotton-candy looking bullshit would somehow change Katsuki's mind.

"Not even a little bit."

"Hey, man, we just stopped by to see you! We were just heading out," Kirishima, the only one of his friends that he doesn't want to strangle on a regular basis, gives his a sharp-toothed grin and gives Ashido his hand, helping her off the couch. The group start to make their way towards the door, Kirishima gripping at his shoulders and shaking him lightly.

"Last weekend before senior year, buddy!" he laughs.

"We're gonna go out tomorrow night, dude! Better come with us - gotta hear all about your incestcapades!" Sero adds, flicking Katsuki's ear as he walks past him, clearly having no survival instincts.

"Fuck each and every one of you."

"Dude, do you even have the energy?" Jirou, of all people, adds in, and the rest of the group laughs. Oh, so this is how its going to be now, huh? She's against him too now, huh?

"OUT." Katsuki shuts the door tight behind him and glares at Kaminari. Kaminari looks towards the ceiling, pinky in his ear, feining innocence.

"Tch," Katsuki scoffs, but doesn't press. He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, inspecting the living room of the apartment, making sure that his dumbass roommate didn't break or set on fire or electrocute anything else in their shared living space.

"…Dude." Kaminari grins. Katsuki didn't notice the electric blonde was following him, practically wagging his tail, like his owner was finally home. "Fucking Kyoka, man. I love you for subletting to her."

"Urgh."

"I'm gonna ask her out."

"No." Katsuki just says. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the fuck would you think Kyoka would be into you?"

Kyoka was one of the last people he interviewed to rent his place to for the summer. She was chill – sarcastic, sharp, calm. She was from DC and sticking around Boston for the summer to play some local clubs and scope out the local scene, thinking about relocating. She seemed like the last person that Sparky would latch on to, but Katsuki must have forgotten that his roommate is a fuckin' leach, and no one is safe.

"I was getting a vibe." Kaminari's voice raises defensively. Katsuki rolls his eyes.

"You'd get a vibe off the fuckin' toaster, Sparky."

"… There were people on Yahoo Answers who told me to do that!!! I told you, it wasn't my fault!!!"

"Jesus, you fucking – dumbass." Katsuki scoffs, but ruffles his roommates hair in what most would call affection. Hoping the conversation is over, Katsuki stomps back off to his room, Kaminari in hot pursuit.

"Don't be mad!" Kaminari calls out as Katsuki slams the door behind him.

His fucking room. What the fuck. Jirou let Kaminari do this shit?! She's dead to him. Kaminari is dead to him. You know what? All his friends are dead to him. The only good person is Deku. Katsuki takes a few deep, calming breath and starts to take down the printed out pictures, not bothering to fold the Alabama flag, instead choosing to toss it out the window.

He decides to keep up the rainbow colored Christmas lights. They vibe pretty fuckin' well with all his black death metal posters.

After he's changes the sheets, made sure to rip up all the pictures and saved the scraps to later put in Kaminari's pillowcases, toilet, shower, and expensive hair gel, he finally decides to text Deku.

Katsuki: hey I'm home

Deku🥦: Kacchan! Ah I was so worried!

Deku🥦: how is it?

Deku🥦: how's your roommate?

Katsuki: dumb as a pile of bricks and way fucking more useless

Katsuki: what are you doing?

Deku🥦: … just laying here

Deku🥦: missing you

Katsuki's heart jumps into his throat and he slaps his hand over his face, dragging it down. Come on. This sappy shit is way too fucking much. If Deku expects him to text sweet nothings to him all fucking day, he is not going to last long as a boyfriend or whatever.

Katsuki steps away from his phone as he remembers the box that Deku inelegantly gifted him at the airport. He unpacks it and pulls out what looks like a cylindrical, blown-glass looking lamp. Fucking… okay? Confused, Katsuki sets it on his nightstand, scrounges his room for a lightbulb, and plugs it in. The metal base looks like its meant to be touch-activated, so he touches it. It lights, illuminating his room in a gentle green. Well, he guesses it's kinda nice. Looks like the little nerd's eyes or some shit.

Deku🥦: KACCHAN! You opened it!

Katsuki: how the fuck do you know?

Deku🥦: the lamps are connected! Every time you touch yours, mine lights up

Deku🥦: so we can tell each other when we're thinking of each other

Deku🥦: or missing each other

Katsuki: I'm throwing it away

Deku🥦: KACCHAN NO. it was… really expensive

Katsuki: what the fuck deku

Katsuki: this is so fucking lame

Katsuki: did you fucking google 'gifts for people in long distance relationships?'

Deku🥦:...…no

Katsuki immediately taps on the lamp again, turning it off. He tosses his phone onto his bed and takes a few deep breaths. He has to get back into the flow of things. He has to clear his mind, re-focus, get back into the swing of things. It's the final inning and Katsuki's not gonna get tripped up by anything.

Or so he thinks. His bed smells weird, foreign. The mattress feels uncomfortable and he's fucking freezing, despite the temperature in the room being relatively normal. He must have spent two hours tossing and turning before he seriously thinks that maybe a shower, using Deku's shampoo, might actually help him sleep. He's just about to say fuck it and do it, too, until the green lamp on his bedside table lights up. Katsuki grabs his phone and looks at the time.

2 in the goddamn AM. Time differences aside, what the fuck?

Katsuki: you're really gonna be turning lights on at 2 in the fucking morning

Katsuki: I'm gonna smash this thing to a million pieces and mail them back to you

Deku🥦: Kacchan…

Deku🥦: I just miss you so much

Deku🥦: I can't sleep without you

Deku🥦: can't stop thinking about how nice you feel when you hold me

Deku🥦: when I can feel you pressed against me

Katsuki's dick wakes up in his shorts, and any semblance of annoyance is wiped from Katsuki's consciousness.

Katsuki: yeah?

Katsuki: well I fucking like running my hands down those muscular thighs

Katsuki: and feel you tremble under me, so easy

Deku🥦: can't help it

Deku🥦: know you love it

Deku🥦: can always feel you get hard against me

Well, there's something. Katsuki breathes in deeply, and he taps on the lamp a few times. He can almost hear the other boy's laughter. His breathing seems to grow heavier, more strained, and he really is getting hard. What the fuck. How is he getting turned on from sexting? He's not fucking 12 years old. There's video chat and facetime for that.

Katsuki: what am I supposed to do when you rub your ass against me

Katsuki: fucking slut

Katsuki: i'd run my fingers under your waistband and rut into you, feel you get hard against my hands

Katsuki: you always like that, doncha, baby boy

Katsuki swallows, his fingers typing much faster than his brain is able to comprehend. He doesn't know what he's doing, but he's got a good imagination, and this exact scene's played out quite a few times as they tried to sleep together over the past few weeks. His sweet Deku was always so responsive, the slightest skirt of his fingers, the slightest rut of his hips and he'd be fucking backing up onto him, searching for friction and pressure, so desperate for his cock that Katsuki could barely keep up, and –

Deku🥦: always want you

Deku🥦: you fuck me so good Kacchan

Deku🥦: love watching your face too

Deku🥦: love when you fuck me like you hate me

Shit. Shit, that's so hot, and Katsuki's second hand, the one that isn't tapping incessantly on his phone, is trailing down his stomach and under the elastic of his pajama pants. He rubs lazily against his erection, waiting, plush pink lips and teary green eyes taking him down and gagging on his cock making a welcome visit in the foreground of his mind.

Deku🥦: can I call?

Katsuki: fuck yes

The phone rings and Katsuki slams it to his ear, his own breathing coming out in short bursts as the lazy rubbing of his cock has turned into teasing, slow, dry, thrusts. The sound of Deku's breathing makes his hips dart forward into his own hand, and in the sticky heat under the covers, he can almost imagine himself rubbing against Deku's warm, tight body.

"K-Kacchan..." Deku's voice crackles across the line, and Katsuki feels the electricity run all the way down his spine, forming into a warm pool in his abdomen.

"What, Deku? You touching yourself, thinking of me?" Katsuki teases, trying to keep his own shaky voice, his own impending moan, from coming over the line.

"Miss you, miss you Kacchan…" Deku nearly cries, his voice strangled.

"Miss getting your tight hole finger fucked?" Katsuki drawls. He's unexpectedly serious and somehow, weirdly, extremely weirdly, into this.

"Want you. Want your cock inside me." Deku groans, and Katsuki exhales with a shudder. There's something very erotic about his sweet little Deku begging for his cock like this, his sweet mouth so dirty just for him. Fuck. He rolls over and grabs lotion off his nightstand, and gets rid of his pants, the cool air feeling good against his aching erection. With a lubed up hand, he rubs at the base and strokes to the shaft, the feeling making him arch his back.

"I'd fuck you real good, baby boy. Like you deserve. Pull your hair while I ram into your ass until you're crying for more." He skirts a thumb over the slit and bites into his lip, preventing whatever shitty noises were about to leak out of him. Deku's not so discreet. He's letting out pitiful little moans, huffs of short air, something that sounds suspiciously like 'Kacchan,' and he can picture that little shit the first time they fucked raw, riding him like there was a prize at the end.

"Fucking flip you over and watch your cock bounce as you ride me. Grab your hips and impale you, over and over again, until your thick fucking thighs are shaking so hard you can barely sit up," Katsuki's words are getting faster, more urgent, and he can hear Deku on the other end, silent now, only his breathing and the sound of rustling on the other end. The idea of Deku, jerking off under the covers in Katsuki's childhood bedroom to the sound of his voice is doing wonders for Katsuki's libido, a mix of elation and arousal like thick smoke in his brain as his voice continues, low and husky and sinful, even to his own ears.

Deku whimpers back, and his dick pulses back, clearly unsatisfied with the sloppy, slow strokes that Katsuki's giving it. Forget his cock. He wants to focus on making Deku, his desperate, slutty little Deku, feel good.

"You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum around my cock like a good little slut?"

"Yes, yes, yes Kacchan…" Deku whispers, and he hears the rhythmic hiccupping of his breath. His own hand speeds up at the sound of Deku's orgasm, hand gripping almost painfully against his cock, stroking like he's trying to punish it.

"Kacchan…" the dreamy voice sounds over the phone, sated and disgustingly pretty.

"You cum in your hand, Deku?"

"…yeah…" Deku answers slowly.

"Take some cum and put it in your mouth," Katsuki requests, his own orgasm building exponentially, threatening to explode out of him.

"Kacchan!" the indignant voice says. He almost thinks that the little shit isn't going to do it, but when he hears the wet pop of a fingers against Deku's lips, he closes his eyes and shudders.

"I'd lick up all that cum, Deku, and fucking kiss you just like that, until you can taste yourself,"

"Mmm. Kacchan," Katsuki can hear the wet slop on tongue, "So good… You taste so good."

Deku's sultry voice sends him over the edge, and he lets the orgasm quake through his body, seed spilling into his hand and a little on his sheets. He breathes out deeply and rolls to look on his ceiling. There, he's met with a picture of Cersei and Jamie Lanister, going at it doggy style in the tower. He groans, the pleasant buzz of his orgasm dissipating. He almost forgets that Deku's on the other end of the line until he hears that beautiful laugh.

"You make me kinda crazy, Kacchan." Deku says with some amusement, some wistfulness in his voice. Katsuki would say 'right back atcha' if it wasn't so fucking stupid, so he grunts in response.

"You've always been crazy, nerd."

"Kacchan, I, uhm…"

Katsuki's heart speeds up. An impending sense of doom settles over him. He swears he knows what Deku's about to say, what people sometimes say at the end of phone calls, and it makes him want to fucking throw the phone across the room and bolt. He bites his tongue, refuses to so much as breathe.

"Uhm. Well. Night, Kacchan." Deku's voice sounds tentative, and Katsuki sighs with relief.

"Yeah. Night, Deku."

He hangs up first and stares up at the ceiling. Quickly, he makes it to his bathroom and washes his hand, haphazardly trying to clean off the stray beads of cum on his sheets. He'll have to wash them in the morning.

The lamp starts to glow again, and Katsuki smiles at it. The cheesy bitch. And then it shuts off. It goes in intervals of long and short, and Katsuki watches it, mesmerized.

Short short. Pause. Short. Long. Short short. Long long long. Short short short. Long. Short. Pause. Long. Short. Long Long Long Long Long. Short short. Long.

And then the light stops. Katsuki caught on about halfway through that this is probably Morse code, but he wasn't writing this shit down, and its just like that fucking engineering ass nerd to send some kind of message like this. He swears to god, he's going to fucking MURDER him, right after he's done fucking him.

Katsuki pulls out his phone and mindlessly goes back to their chat.

Bakubrotherbanger🤡: I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't walk when I get home

Katsuki glances to the name of the chat, and back down to the text he sent.

Oh. Oh no.

Bakubrotherbanger🤡: FUCK

Bakubrotherbanger🤡: DELETE DELETE DELETE

Bakubrotherbanger🤡: WRONG FUCKING CHAT

Sparky🔌: No it isn't king

Sparky🔌: keep going

RedSonic👺: DENKI NO

HotSlenderman👽: denki YES

Not questioning why his dumbass friends were all up at 3 in the morning to give him shit, and why they changed everyone's fucking names in the groupchat again, he closes out of the conversation, setting alerts to silent. Sometimes, you gotta avoid engaging with the enemy and pick your battles.

Staring up at the ceiling, sleep escaping him, Katsuki tries to imagine Deku's warm body next to his. He hugs his pillow. Without thinking, he taps on his phone a few times. Within moments, he has a plane ticket home. Something to look forward to in the next few months. To work towards. To see Deku again.

Fuck. This is gonna be harder than he thought.