*Katsuki*

Katsuki buried his mind in his phone, except it wasn't really. He kept hearing bits and pieces of Kirishima's and Izuku's conversation and he was trying very hard not to. He hated that the sound of Izuku's voice now peaked his ears, forcing him to pay attention. And his stupid fucking laugh.

Silence suddenly fell over the room as the clippers shut off. Katsuki forced his gaze to remain on his phone as he swiped his fingers across the screen but his eyes focused on nothing because his ears were too occupied.

"Look at you, looking cute and fresh." Kirishima says in a too sickly voice that he knew Katsuki hated so he did it just to irritate him. Made him want to look too, but he didn't.

There was a mumble of words, some general pleased noises; and even though his mind was attuned to the very pitch of Izuku's words, he couldn't hear the actual words. Did he like it? Was it different to before? Fuck, he would have to look.

When Katsuki glanced up, he caught Izuku's eyes in the mirror and they both quickly looked away. What was this? Were they children? Katsuki forced his eyes back to the mirror and Izuku wasn't looking at him. Katsuki studied his hair, and it was different.

Not quite shaved down and faded up from the back of his neck, it shaped his jawline and face similarly but it didn't look so drastically different from Izuku. It suited him. And Kirishima was getting that exact praise from Izuku right that second, before they could see him, he looked at his blank phone.

"Yo, Baku, tell the man how good he looks, why don't you?" Kirishima had waltzed over to Katsuki, smooshed his face between his palms and directed his head up and toward Izuku. Katsuki immediately ripped his face from his grip and glared at Kirishima.

"Get off of me, you weirdo." Katsuki still refused to watch Izuku. Not while they could see him watching.

"Kacchan," Izuku's voice somehow made his eyes snap up. He could hear Kirishima's mind working and knew he'd hear about it later. "I know it's not like last time and it's probably not short enough."

"You don't look like broccoli." words coming before he knew what he was going to say. "I mean, you still look like Deku."

If he could melt into his chair and maybe get sucked into his phone, he would wholeheartedly wish to disappear. And fucking Kirishima was witnessing it all. Katsuki was not looking forward to the kind of jabs Kirishima would get in later.

"Alright, now that that painful reaction was witnessed by two of us, shall we get to the club?" Kirishima glanced at Izuku who had gone pink and Katsuki's blush was at least twice as deep but he kept it from creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

"He's not dressed right, he'd hold us up at the door." Katsuki was hoping very hard now that Izuku would go home. Because being around him was turning him into a blithering idiot and he wasn't Katsuki at all.

Alcohol could fix that easily.

Someone he could fuck into his mattress would definitely fix that. And it couldn't be Izuku.

"Don't be an idiot, Baku, he'd have you to get him in the door." Kirishima looked at Katsuki with a straight face, daring Katsuki to retort, to say anything that was so uncharacteristically him. Katsuki sucked at his teeth and made a sharp sound. He wasn't going to argue. Whatever would happen would happen. And he'd be going home with a not green haired, green eyes, freckled man.

"Kacchan," Izuku had been looking at his phone, frowning, but looked up to watch Katsuki, unaware of the conversation he and Kirishima were having. "Could we take up the photography sessions again?"

Katuski hesitated for a few seconds, a concerned expression formed on Izuku's face. Like he spoke out of turn, or was scared he was pushing something too far. He knew that expression well. Katsuki often would lash out then, enjoy watching Izuku recoil. So instead, he said, "As long as I ain't modellin'."

Kirishima nudged his foot as he walked by to get the broom and Katsuki ignored him.

"When do you start up with that new agency?" Izuku asked.

"None of your business." Katsuki looked away. It was a touchy subject. Anyone who wanted him to model before he was even ready to talk about it had irritated him. And by everyone, he meant Ochako, and now apparently Izuku.

"Well, you'd be teaching me modelling and you get to order me around. How's that sound?" Izuku's thumbs fiddled idly with his phone screen, his scars lit up by the phone. He wanted to touch them.

"Fine." Katsuki looked at Kirishima who had just dumped the fallen green hair very loudly in a bin. "Are we ready to go yet? Baby boy over there's got a bed time."

Again, Katsuki had meant it to be insulting, instead, it sounded like he liked Izuku. He was going to shut up now until he downed a couple shots of alcohol and became his usual belligerent self.

"Uber there and then home again?" Kirishima swiped his jacket and keys, then gestured wildly for them to move to the door. "That good with you Izuku?"

"Yea?" Izuku thought about reasons for an Uber. "Wait, how much do you guys drink at five on a Saturday afternoon?"

"This is gonna be fun." Kirishima said, looking at Izuku as though he were a puppy.

"Listen! I don't go to clubs or drink. I don't drink that much when I do. I spend all my time like a normal person." Izuku said over his shoulder as he half trotted out the door.

"No, man. Normal people drink to relax, or I don't know, not find various forms of work to fill their time?" Kirishima teased. Katsuki fought the sensation in him, one he didn't understand. Because how were he and the broom head such good friends already . This was their second time meeting!

An Uber came in under two minutes, thank fuck for a busy city. Katsuki waited for Kirishima and Izuku to get in and immediately wished he hadn't because Izuku being Izuku was "perfectly fine" with being in the middle. Katsuki leaned forward to peer at the driver who shot a menacing glare at Katsuki and watched pointedly at the seat.

There was a paper there with bolded text " NO FRONT SEAT SITTING ".

"You have got to be shittin' me." Katsuki hissed before he slumped into the back seat beside Izuku and turned away from him to stare grumpily out the window.

He must look like he was having the world's weirdest mood swings.

The car ride was blessedly short and when they got to the bar, they weren't stopped at the door and Kirishima shot a smirk back at Katsuki who was lagging behind them in an effort to distance himself from Izuku.

Katsuki left Kirishima and Izuku at a table, the sound of music not loud enough to drown out his thoughts. He eyed the bartender before he held three fingers up and pointed at cinnamon whiskey. The bartender actually understood him and poured them quickly, Katsuki pointed to his table and the bartender nodded. He had to be grateful for how frequently he came here, because if anyone were watching them, they would wonder how anyone knew what the other meant.

Easily managing the three shots between his fingers, he returned to them and ignored their animated conversation and started scanning the room for someone to otherwise direct his attention to. It was early, the pickings were slim.

About fifteen minutes in, and maybe three shots, Katsuki spotted a certain older man he had gone home with not too long ago. Their eyes met, and the man smiled, his little scruff on his face had gotten a little longer. Before Katsuki could approach him, another man with long blond hair pulled into a loose bun had sat beside him, then draped his arm across his shoulders. And their eye contact was broken and the moment was gone.

Katsuki thought it was for the best, he wasn't willing to be on the receiving end. Not today. He wanted to bury himself in someone so he could clear his mind and get his dick to calm down because everytime he did watch Izuku, his eyes wandered to his thighs, and his fingers would clench reflexively as he wanted to to sink his nails into his skin.

A woman caught his eye. She had come in with a group of girls all tittering and laughing. And her eyes had immediately found him and locked onto him.

Katsuki surveyed her. She had long black hair tied into a ponytail, a red dress that fell above her knees with a plunging neckline, exposing shimmering skin even in the low light. She was gorgeous and oozed money. She was also on the hunt, by the way her eyes had devoured Katsuki, and he smirked, to which she blushed.

"Lost you already, Baku?" Kirishima's voice called Katsuki's attention back to his table. His head swam pleasantly as his eyes focused on Kirishima's mouth.

"Yea, man. I'll catch you both later." Katsuki said as he shifted onto his feet and walked away. There was like a string now, pulling at him, pinching; attached to him and Izuku. The further he walked away, the fiercer it pinched, but Katsuki walked toward the mystery woman with as much purpose he could muster.

* Izuku *

Izuku watched Katsuki walk away and ignored Eijirou's eyes on him.

"You and him got close, huh?" Eijirou said. Izuku watched Katsuki approach a woman, gorgeous and tall, on the far side of the room. He admired Katsuki for just walking up to a group of people and doing what he liked.

"Not really. Example, I thought he was with Uraraka." Izuku finally looked at Eijirou. Izuku had wondered but didn't think to bring it up. He was afraid of making sudden movements, asking the wrong things. If he had asked about her, like he had mentioned modelling, he knew Katsuki would have immediately regretted helping him learn to cook. Or whatever it was they were doing now.

"I know you're smarter than that, man. He's in that little apartment. You been there, right?" Eijirou sipped a glass of water and eyed Izuku over the brim of the glass.

"Yea, I guess that's true. I just thought he liked having his own space. He didn't tell me that they had broken up." Izuku's eyes drifted back to Katsuki who was now sitting beside the tall, beautiful woman, his leg pressing against hers and his eyes trained on her as though she were the only thing that existed.

"He did. Like his own space, I mean." Eijirou looked to the bartender and held up two fingers, the bartender nodded and Eijirou smiled at Izuku. A little too knowingly.

"He bullied me." Izuku blurted out. "I mean, we grew up together. And he was just-"

"Yea, I know what he was like. The asshole didn't know how to make friends." Eijirou said with a sad smile. "Took him forever to stop calling me ' broom head' out loud. But he sticks around if he likes you enough."

"I think he hates me." Izuku needed to pee. He also wanted to run away from this conversation, maybe from this club. Katsuki had acted so hot and cold with him all day that when he tried to recall anything, it was a blur of confusion. Before he could get to his feet, the two shots Eijirou had ordered came to the table.

"You can hang with us if you like this, you know." Eijirou held up his glass to Izuku who was late to even take the shot off the table. "He doesn't hate you. If he did, you'd know."

"You know him of course. But I feel like I don't. Doesn't matter. He came out with you and he's still over there with other people." Izuku threw his head back and swallowed the sweet and spicy liquid, exhaling the excess fumes of the alcohol.

"He's trying to get over a heartbreak or some shit." Eijirou's glass made a little clinking sound as it hit the other glasses all grouped together neatly on their table.

"I have to pee." Izuku got to his feet and wobbled. How many shots had they had? Why did he drink this much so fast. Maybe water was a great idea from now on. And he didn't know how it worked, but he felt like dancing. A group of five people had begun dancing, so he didn't think he'd look like a weirdo.

When he relieved himself of the little liquid he had consumed, he assessed himself and thought being upright and dancing was doable. He stopped at the table to tell Eijirou where he would be and gulped back a glass of water that had accumulated condensation at its base.

Eijirou joined him and together they bobbed and swayed to the music. Izuku closed his eyes and felt the space completely envelop him, enough that he lost himself and forgot everything that made him doubt today. Sweat beaded on his chest and back, his t-shirt stuck to him slightly and he finally made it back to their table and poured himself water from a pitcher that was completely iceless.

"You can dance, Izuku!" Eijirou's t-shirt was also sticking to his chest. "Baku can too, but he only ever does it for a couple songs before he disappears with some person or other."

"That was fun!" Izuku said, panting, a smile spreading wide across his face. That's when he saw Katsuki whose body was melted against the woman's on the dancefloor as he moved with and against her, his hands sliding across his body.

"All the women must love him." Izuku said, almost enviously. He was so easy with strangers, but not with him.

"Everyone loves him." Eijirou said, gasping as he gulped back water.

"He's beautiful, that's for sure." Izuku watched as the dancefloor lights illuminated him, the sheen of his skin reflecting the reds and greens as they rotated around the room. Eijirou chuckled into his glass of water. "I just mean, he's literally posing all the time. I could take a photo of him being a dick - I did, actually- and he's just fucking gorgeous."

"Yea, he knows. Don't tell him though, it'll get to his head." Eijirou snorted into his water and it splashed across his face and onto his chest. Izuku threw his head back and laughed, spilling his own water.

He didn't feel Katsuki's eyes burrow into him, his attention called to his former table by the boy with the green hair and contagious laugh.