Mina was like a tornado, she swirled around the room, in and out, through cupboards and flicking lights, all the while talking. Eijirou looked at Izuku and shrugged sheepishly.

"Here's your toothbrush! Ohmygosh, it's so great to finally meet you." She paused, her yellow eyes widened and she waved her hands furiously, dismissing her indirect mention of Izuku's break up. "Terrible conditions, really, but Ei has talked about you so much and how amazing you are, both of you running your own businesses and stuff." She inhaled and grinned, passing a nervous hand through her bright pink hair.

"Thanks for having me. I know it's really late and short noti-" Izuku felt his face warp as embarrassment washed over him.

"Don't even mention it, bro. What are friends for?" Eijirou rested a hand gently on his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry we don't got a guest bedroom."

"Oh no! This is more than I could have hoped for," Izuku reassured him. He stared at his camera bag that more resembled a suitcase and his laptop bag set beside it. "I'm very grateful, Eijirou, Mina."

Izuku looked at them both, Eijirou moved as though to hug him and he was almost knocked off his feet by the impact of Mina's hug. His vision was blurred by pink hair and he yelped at first before grasping onto her and hugging her back. Eijirou came behind them and patted their shoulders.

"You both are such weirdos." He muttered and then he kissed the crown of Mina's head. Izuku watched their interactions, warming a little at their affection for each other and Eijirou peered at him. "Nah, dude. I ain't kissin' you."

Mina laughed and pushed Eijirou off.

"Shit, this is going to turn into a big sleepover if I don't calm my shit and get ready for bed. Izuku, our bedroom is over there," Mina pointed at a door at the end of a short corridor, "And the bathroom is over there," she shimmied her hand to indicate the one door left in the corridor. "Help yourself to the food in the fridge, or the alcohol in the cupboards."

"Go ahead, Min, I need to talk to him for a sec." Eijirou looked at her and she met his eyes with an understanding Izuku was jealous of. He had that with Shouto, once upon a time. He also suddenly felt like he was being reprimanded by a principal the way that Eijirou looked at him.

"Zu, man." Izuku sunk into the couch, Eijirou balanced carefully on the edge of the coffee table. Izuku noticed that his hair wasn't styled, instead tied back into a ponytail though hair still fell onto his forehead.

"Did you just call me Zu?" Izuku broke into a half hearted laugh.

"Yea…yea that was weird." Eijirou shook his head.

"No! It's just one I haven't heard before!" Izuku fanned the apology away.

"Anyway, Zu ," Eijirou grinned toothily at him, "We can keep you here as long as you need. I don't know what happened." Izuku opened his mouth to explain and Eijirou lifted his palms to silence him. "It doesn't matter. But, I guess what I want to ask is if you were gonna tell Baku."

"I didn't want to-"

"He's gonna find out-"

"-tell him." Izuku ignored Eijirou's interjection. "He's- occupied with someone and it's not like he could do anything."

"Wrong, man. He's got connections. You should let him use them and help you find a place faster." Eijirou narrowed his eyes. "No rush, sleep on our shitty couch forever. Just, I know you man. You're an independent guy. There ain't no way you'd stick with us."

"Mina's amazing." Izuku flicked his hand in her general direction.

"Yea, she is." Eijirou smiled. "Okay, so you don't want to tell Baku for whatever reason."

"I'll tell him, eventually. I guess." Izuku fiddled with his fingers and stared intently at them, his scars and the way the creases deepened when he bent his digits.

"It's gotta be soon my dude. Baku's here more often than I am. He knows Mina moved in because of he was always here. You were right, he handled the news about Mina and me just fine." Eijirou raised his eyebrows and got to his feet. Izuku felt the blood drain from his face. Duh, this was his friend's house. He was in Katsuki's best friend's house. He would have to tell Katsuki.

Or just not.

He was fucking exhausted. All he had was his cameras and lenses, a semi-decent laptop, he still needed to get his clothes.

When Izuku and Shouto had started their business together, it was the board's suggestion that they have a company account that paid out to each of them like employees. This resulted in separate bank accounts, which was one relief since Izuku didn't have to fight for his share of money.

He'd have to email everyone from work, explain. Or maybe he could just message them.

It was odd, he considered everyone at the studio his friends, but he felt more comfortable contacting Eijirou. Izuku heard the bedroom door shut softly and he laid back on the couch. The pillow was a little scratchy but he rubbed his cheek on it.

He felt a tear slip down the side of face, over his temple and into his hairline. He pressed his eye to the pillow and tried to feel nothing. Instead, his body shook as he sobbed silently and he grasped at the soft cushions trying to crush them in his fists. His skin pinched and pulled with the pressure, and it was nothing compared to the way his heart twisted in his chest, sucking the air from his lungs.

When his throat was dry, and his tears stopped flowing, he sat up and waited for the world to stop swimming. He got himself a glass of water, slowly drinking it, before he meandered to the bathroom and brushed his teeth as silently as he could. He splashed water on his face, scrubbing the dried tears away and patted his skin dry with the towel Mina had left folded for him on the back of the couch.

Finally, he lay flat on his back, and stared around the room.

There were various animal prints draped across the room, tasteful little pops of colour and print that Izuku thought was hilarious because seeing Eijirou around animal print had never crossed his mind. Finally, his eyes landed on a clock with a swinging tail. It was dark, so Izuku could only assume it was a cat.

It was 2:27 am.

He wondered if Katsuki was still with that man. It was a heavy enough thought to squash Izuku's temptation to message Katsuki. If just for a little contact. A little reprieve from all the emotional turmoil.

It was Katsuki.

It was always Katsuki.

And Katsuki Bakugou wasn't his.

*Katsuki*
Immediately after Izuku left

"Fuck." Katsuki muttered as he shut the door. Izuku hadn't even glanced back at him. He looked as though he were about to cry and it was his fault. Katsuki hit the door with the side of his fist out of frustration and his face hurt from it's permanent frown.

He made Izuku cry again .

Did he want to stay? Was that it?

The door rattled as a knock sounded loudly at his ear. It startled him away and he peered through the hole.

Aw fuck, did Izuku see Aizawa?

He opened the door and yanked Aizawa in; he made a grunt sound and then he laughed, deep and short.

"He already saw me." Aizawa laughed, pulling Katsuki to him.

" Shit. " Katsuki closed his eyes as his chest met Aizawa's and warmth enveloped him. Aizawa used the breadth of his body to wrap Katsuki in some form of comfort.

"What did you do?" Aizawa murmured against his hair, the shivers from his words travelling down his spine.

"I need to fuck you. I had to get him to leave." Katsuki said into his throat and pinched his skin between his teeth. Aizawa groaned, the vibration meeting Katsuki's lips and travelling quickly to his pants.

"You should figure that shit out." Aizawa tilted his head back to give Katsuki uninhibited access to his neck. He was already working at Katsuki's pants. Katsuki grunted but his tongue was too busy to form words. "It could get messy, Kats."

"I don't want to talk about it." Katsuki met Aizawa's mouth with his own and nipped at his tongue. Aizawa pulled away a little, both of them fighting for the same air.

"It smells good in here." Aizawa inhaled deeply and Katsuki glanced over his shoulder at the abandoned kitchen. "Did you cook for me?" Aizawa said it with his eyebrow cocked and an inflection in his tone that told Katsuki he was being teased.

"Do you want to make this the longest sex of your life?" Katsuki pressed himself against Aizawa who lifted his leg to meet Katsuki's cock. Katsuki ground on him, grateful for the contact. He was already panting in anticipation.

"Hey, I freed up my evening for you. You seemed pretty… desperate for relief yesterday. Sorry I had to keep you waiting." Aizawa kissed his jaw and traced his skin with his tongue.

"What's the point of having a fuck buddy if he can't be available to keep me from doing bad things?" Katsuki was impatient with his pants now, there were too many layers between them.

"You can do whatever you want to that man and he'll take it with a smile on his face." Aizawa cupped Katsuki's ass in his hands and squeezed. Katsuki looked up at him, not understanding the words.

"I can't cross that line, that would be the end of our friendship." Katsuki's voice was low, scared to acknowledge it out loud.

"Izu looks as though he wants you to cross that line." Katsuki raised his eyebrow at the name, knowing Aizawa didn't know he was missing a syllable. Aizawa pulled Katsuki against his leg, pressing him into him; Katsuki's eyelids fluttered. "Just judging from his face as he left, I mean. You should have seen how pissed he was when he recognised me."

Katsuki scoffed and pulled away, walked to the bed then dropped onto it. Aizawa remained leaning against the wall by the door. He turned the lock, kicked off his shoes and then followed Katsuki to sit beside him.

"You're talkin' nonsense man. He's not into me." Aizawa laughed and Katsuki shot him a glare, which only prompted a fond grin from the whiskered man. "He's got his perfect fucking life and perfect fucking man to go home to. A man who gave him everything he wanted in life. What do I have huh? Bad fucking habits and anger issues."

"Listen," Aizawa placed his hand on his knee and squeezed. "You got a lot in that pretty head of yours that you have to sort through. I'm not a therapist, or qualified to tell you how to do it. I can fuck you until you forget, or you can fuck me until I'm no longer enough. Until you need the real thing."

"Why are you so fucking invested?" Katsuki looked at him after listening to his words and realising this man he hardly knew was telling him in words what Kirishima had been nonverbally telling him for months. And sometimes never so directly.

"You're a beautiful man. And I knew who you were before I met you, Katsuki Bakugou." Aizawa turned his body to face Katsuki, one leg folded beneath his body.

"What?" Katsuki narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Your face is all over the city. Your abs too." Aizawa gestured toward him, his whole body. "Don't get me wrong, I didn't know your name. But you're famous, kid."

Katsuki laughed and dragged his hand down his face. How could he forget he had a life a short few months ago where it revolved around plastering his face on everything. People obviously knew him. He wondered for a moment how many men and women went home with him because they recognised him.

"So you're invested because you've seen my face-"

"And abs-"

"-on billboard and shit in the city." Katsuki ignored his interjection by rolling his eyes.

"No. Because I used to be a professor." Aizawa said patiently.

"And you like to fuck your students?" Katsuki laughed.

"Not students. No." Aizawa let his hand travel up Katsuki's inner thigh. "But I did have muses."

"What did you teach?" Katsuki's curiosity peaked.

"Photography." Aizawa said lightly. Katsuki choked on his saliva.

"Why the fuck haven't heard of you?" Katsuki narrowed his eyes to slits as he surveyed the stranger in his bed.

"I didn't go by Shouta Aizawa." Aizawa gave a one sided smile, something like nostalgia flitted across his face.

"You don't shoot anymore?" Katsuki turned to face him now, mimicking his position with one leg folded beneath him.

"The industry killed one of my friends." Aizawa lifted his shoulders so slightly, Katsuki almost didn't notice. "Doesn't make sense, letting someone I can help, suffer. You probably won't die, but that was an extreme circumstance."

"Who are you?" Katsuki tilted his head, watching Aizawa curiously. He was trying hard to piece together the story and wracking his brain for any familiarity in Aizawa's face to figure out who he was.

"What? Moaning Shouta isn't doing it for you?" Aizawa mock-facepalmed, a smirk on his face. "No, I forgot. Moaning Izu does it for you."

Katsuki pushed his shoulder and frowned in an attempt to drown his blush.

Aizawa stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers, then traced his jaw to catch and tilt his chin up, Katsuki scowled at him.

"Eraser Head." Aizawa huffed a laugh.

"Oh fuck. You're that- what do they call it? That underground photographer?" Katsuki's eyes opened with recognition. "You did that thing with the skin tones, and body marks and scars."

"Too edgy for some people. You know, tits and dick was a scandalous subject. Especially to the public." Aizawa pushed his hair back from his eyes and it fell back into his face. His hair got undone and fell loose around his shoulders. "Not to mention highlighting the different races, or simply just skin tones. Or people's self harm scars."

"But that's not why you stopped." Katsuki frowned.

"When Oboro died, I barely had it in me to teach. That lasted a few years, and by then, finding a muse was…" Aizawa shook his head.

Katsuki looked away for a moment, his eyesight focused on nothing in particular. He wondered what it would be like to lose someone you loved, lose them like that, and what he would do. Because right now, he had lost no one but himself and he couldn't bring himself to model. He was nowhere near where he thought he'd be in life.

Because there was an Izuku sized hole. Probably like Aizawa had an Oboro sized hole.

He'd have to figure out when he even felt that way in the first place. Izuku was just so out of his grasp his entire life. He was everything Katsuki wasn't and he hated it. Aizawa made a sound, like a hum in his chest. Katsuki was unsure what expressions his face was making the entire time he was thinking, but he realised that Aizawa was watching him patiently.

"I swear, I'm not falling in love with you or anything, but you're so damned cute." Aizawa pushed back his spiky hair off his forehead. Katsuki tried to understand what was in his eyes, the way he was gazing at him. It made him feel like he was on the cusp of something, like everything he wanted was just out of his grasp. "And you're so fucked up, kid."

Aizawa didn't get any more words out. Katsuki pressed his mouth to his as though Aizawa were his oxygen.

The only words uttered were Katsuki, fuck, more, please.

Katsuki couldn't be alone with Izuku in a private setting anymore. Because even as Aizawa gave him the intimacy and fantasy of pretending it was Izuku he was inside of, Aizawa wasn't Izuku.

And it was always Izuku.

Izuku didn't belong to him.

Izuku didn't belong with him.

"Hey man, I'll be there in 20." Katsuki answered his phone as he stuffed his wallet into his back pocket. He looked for his keys and didn't find it hanging on the keyholder. Last night with Aizawa was wild, his keys must be in his pants. He ignored the clutter on the floor of his disposed clothes.

He hated being messy. Fuck, if he could just take a second to pick it all up.

"Slow down, you're gonna miss me anyway. I'm almost out the door. Dude, you just gotta be prepared, right." Kiri's voice missed his ear where he balanced the phone on his shoulder as he grabbed all the clothes off the floor; half because he needed to clean and half because he was patting his pockets in search of his key.

"What?" Katsuki readjusted his phone to his ear. He hadn't heard what Kirishima said.

"Just, bring some beer or some shit, would ya?" Kiri said in a slightly louder, slowly enunciated way that irritated Katsuki to the core. "I'm not gonna be here, nor is Mina."

"I'm comin' for your dumb Xbox. You should really get a Playstation, y'know. Better than this Xbone shit you got." Katsuki grumbled, the phone slipping again. "I got your key, you don't gotta be there."

"Why don't you get your own stupid Playstation, bro." Katsuki could practically hear Kiri's eyeroll.

"Then you'd never see me because I cannot stand all that animal print around your apartment." Katsuki shot back.

"Good thing you don't live with me." Kiri laughed. "Don't mess my place up, would ya."

"I'm literally the least messy person you know." Katsuki grumbled into the receiver. He looked around at the (finally) clothesless floor then glanced at the kitchen and found all the abandoned, soiled dishes he had reassured Izuku he'd be happy to clean. He glared at them, daring them to betray his own words out loud, like if they could talk.

The phone beeped as the call ended.

His keys were indeed stuck in his jeans pocket and after digging it out, he got in his car, semi-looking forward to drowning himself in mindless games. Shooting people online and screaming at the kids were always fun. He liked making them cry.

A beer stop didn't take long, but he didn't pick up beer. The day was kind of chilly at the latter end of autumn but a sparkling cider felt like a refreshing choice. Light buzz without the bloating that happened when you consumed beer.

Katsuki parked in the visitor's parking spot outside the building, paid the meter, and took the elevator up. When he unlocked the door and slipped off his loafers, he noticed bright red sneakers where he would usually put his shoes.

The TV was on.

"Kiri?" Katsuki called into the apartment.

"Hey, Kacchan."