*Katsuki*

Katsuki couldn't describe the immediate jealousy that filled him to the bristles of his hair when he saw Shouto's name light up Izuku's phone. He swallowed it as best he could and felt regret when he saw Izuku's reaction when their eyes met and he smiled and shrugged, almost like he was afraid.

He only heard Izuku's side of the conversation, but his voice went from defensive, annoyed, to soft and kind, surprised, in the span of their conversation and Katsuki was dying to know what they had talked about.

His initial thought was Izuku was going back to him. Because obviously, he would be an insane person to think Izuku would end a years long relationship to just be with him, even when he appeared emotionally stunted and at best, aggressive and annoying.

Katsuki surprised himself when he didn't ask Izuku what they had talked about, and amazed himself, against his better judgement, when he told Izuku that it really was none of his business. He thought the best course of action would be to spend as much time with Izuku as he could, so Izuku would fall in love with him, as absurd as that sounded, so that he never had reason to go back to Shouto. And he needed Izuku to fall in love with him before he was scheduled to see the half an' half bastard. Which was soon, according to the end of their call.

Fuck .

Katsuki showered first and got semi dressed, walking around his bedroom with unbuttoned jeans hanging low on his hips and exposing his boxers. He rifled through his clothes, hanging for Izuku the sheer shirts, lingerie, as he called it, so he could choose before they went out tonight.

Unable to decide, Katsuki retreated to the kitchen and drank water, buttoning his jeans after they threatened to slide to the floor. He heard the bathroom door open and Izuku came out in Katsuki's red and black boxers, too baggy on his smaller frame, with his hand in his hair as he towelled it dry.

Katsuki knew Izuku wasn't looking at him on purpose as he paraded through the apartment, pointedly staring at the clothing on the bed laid out for him to select his outfit. He picked up a white sheer shirt, the only white Katsuki had, with woven in paisley stitched pattern and he finally looked at Katsuki who exhaled. He hadn't realised he was holding his breath.

Izuku kept eye contact with Katsuki as he slipped the too big shirt over his head, the neckline of it dropping to the centre of his sternum, Izuku's nipples showing clearly beneath the fabric, the hemline falling to his thighs. It was goddamn lingerie.

"Izuku." Katsuki's voice had gone. He cleared his throat. "That's too big, nerd."

"You said I could wear whatever I want." Izuku pouted, shifting the shirt on his frame to line up the shoulder properly.

"I did." Katsuki groaned.

"Doesn't it look good?" Izuku looked down at himself, unashamed of the boxers and shirt combo.

"You look fucking fantastic." Katsuki looked away, aware now that his nipples had stiffened, along with something else.

"I'll just wear my jeans though, I think the grey would look okay with this." Izuku turned around and bent over, reaching for his jeans and giving Katsuki a full view of his ass as the shirt stretched with him revealing the lower half of him. Katsuki gave a strangled groan and muffled it in his throat as best he could. He could practically see the green haired bastard grinning like a fucking sunbeam at his reaction, knowing he was teasing.

Katsuki had a paisley jacket. It was meant to go with that shirt. He skimmed through his clothes, his back to Izuku, and found it, then slid into it. No shirt, just a jacket, his chest, abs, the muscles that guided people's eyes downward, all muscles showed and Izuku looked at him, unable to rip his eyes upward.

"You ready, nerd?" Katsuki grinned, showing his incisors. Izuku nodded, still staring at his body. "You know you've seen me naked, right?" Katsuki reminded him.

"Seeing you with clothes on like this is so much better." Izuku finally met his eyes, the strain in his pants obvious. Izuku didn't hide as he adjusted himself and Katsuki followed the movement hungrily.

"You wouldn't be saying that when I finally fuck you." Katsuki felt his mouth move without his permission and felt heat flame from his neck to his ears as Izuku stared at him. Katsuki knew he was thinking about it by the way his eyelids fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

"Let's go, Kacchan, before we never leave this apartment." Katsuki thought about it for a second, thought about not wasting time at the club becoming more and more sexually frustrated, about sinking into Izuku and seeing his eyes water, his mouth fall open, feeling Izuku groan as it reverberated through his own chest which would be pressed firmly to Izuku back as he pushed into him, soft and hot-

"Kacchan." Izuku brushed his hair back from his eyes, long eyelashes blinking up at him, eyes as dark as Katsuki's, because Katsuki had been completely lost to his fantasy.

"Yea, let's go." Katsuki positioned himself into his waistband so he could walk unencumbered by his erection. He already felt like he needed a shower, preferably including Izuku, and if not, cold.

The backseat of the Uber was filled with tension. Katsuki remembered climbing into the backseat with Izuku before and wanting to be as far from him as possible, and now, with an empty space between them, all he could think about doing was closing the distance just to fill the cold air around him with Izuku's warmth.

Everytime he glanced at the green haired man, in the ghostly white, paisley covered, oversized shirt, his heart skipped, and he tensed. Izuku was stock still, his eyes gazing outward, Katsuki wanted to know what was in his head right now, because all that was in his was Izuku.

The club on a Friday seemed to be worse than that Saturday they had gone. Izuku glanced at Katsuki who had rubbed the back of his neck. He was jealously aware of the eyes that followed Izuku as the white bouncing ball of sex walked to the bouncer, glanced back at Katsuki expectedly, and they were let through.

"I don't think I'd ever get tired of that. It's like you're royalty." Izuku looked at him and grinned, blushing. Katsuki would've died to hear Izuku call him king or master . He needed to control his mind, because he would end up with blue balls by the end of the night if he kept this up.

He grunted to acknowledge he heard Izuku, using it to clear his throat. "You wanna dance?" Katsuki asked him, glancing to the bar and wishing very much for at least three shots of his favourite cinnamon whiskey.

"I want shots!" Izuku apparently read his mind, grabbed his hand, closing his fingers around his palm, soft and warm despite his work with his hands and the scars, and Katsuki allowed Izuku to weave through the crowd with him in tow.

Izuku leaned over the counter to yell at the bartender who nodded, glanced at Katsuki who was glowering behind Izuku, and turned to busy himself, his expression going from 'This is a cute guy.' to ' I get it dude, he's taken .' in the span of three seconds. Katsuki puffed his chest proudly.

Izuku turned with four shots balancing in his fingers and held two out to Katsuki who took it, and prepared to clink the glass to Izuku who had spun around again and had a salt shaker in his hand, with lime wedges between his fingers.

"You got tequila?" Katsuki asked, eyeing the golden liquid, slightly more amber than Katsuki's almost orange shots.

"I wanted something different tonight!" Izuku beamed brightly, coming closer to Katsuki. "Hold still."

And before Katsuki could step away, Izuku's breath was on his neck, hot against his cool skin and then all at once, his moist, warm tongue curled onto the sensitive part of his neck and he shuddered. Izuku withdrew, sprinkled salt on him, some falling onto his exposed chest and disappearing onto the floor.

"You're a fucking tease, what are you doing to me?" Katsuki groaned.

"Cheers, Kacchan!" Izuku help up his glass, came in, licked then the mother fucker sucked at his skin, before throwing back the shot and biting onto the green wedge with his teeth and grinning with it there in place of white.

Katsuki didn't move, his shots in his hands as the sensation of Izuku lingered on his skin.

"Gimme that one." Katsuki said as he grabbed the salt from his hand, the lime wedge, and the shot after placing both his on the bar behind Izuku. He leaned in, pausing to inhale Izuku's floral greenery scent mingling with his shampoo and the spring scented soap in his shower, and lowered his open mouth to the corner of Izuku's neck where his shoulder curved up.

Izuku moaned in his ear and his hands pressed to Katsuki's waist, gripping tightly. Katsuki pressed his tongue, exhaling as he did, into Izuku's skin, already a little salty. Katsuki sucked slightly as he forced himself back, then determinedly sprinkled salt onto the wet spot he had left. He balanced the shot and wedge in his hands, leaned forward and swiped his tongue against the grains, sucking again as he departed, threw back the burning liquid, and hissed before biting into the relief of the acidity of the lime.

Izuku was looking up at him with blown pupils and wet lips, and it took all of Katsuki's self control not to tilt his head down just a little to kiss him, instead he grabbed the shots he had placed on the bar, passed one to Izuku, and swallowed his in one gulp, exhaling through his nose as the familiar cinnamon burned through his lungs. Izuku did the same.

Katsuki wasted no time pulling him to the dancefloor, and at some point, Izuku had shimmied Katsuki's jacket off his shoulders, draping it onto his forearm, and they melded and bobbed to the music, weaving in and out of each other, stopping short of grinding together and dry humping in public. They stopped only to drink water, have two more tequila shots- Katsuki forgot about the cinnamon- and finally, when the white fabric had clung to Izuku's chest and back, the tiny wisps of hair pressed wet against his temple, Katsuki pulled him to the lounge where the gulped back chilled water and ate greasy food to soak up the alcohol.

Izuku's head was resting on Katsuki's shoulder, both of them slumped into the couch, exhausted and horny. Katsuki turned and inhaled the scent of his hair, then spoke into his crown. "You ready to go home?"

"Do I get to go home with Kacchan?" Izuku looked up at Katsuki without removing his head from his shoulder, their noses almost touching.

"I'll sleep on the floor, nerd, but sure, you can come home with me." Izuku pulled himself away with some effort, their bodies heavy with exhaustion. Katsuki got off the too low seat and pulled Izuku to his feet where they walked down the staircase and snaked through the rowdy crowd of sweaty bodies, before breaking into the cool night air. Katsuki's jacket just hung on his shoulders, his arms not in their sleeves. Izuku's hand was in his and he didn't mind.

They walked a bit, the city noises around them like a quiet backdrop to their moment, holding hands and aware of only each other. Only when Izuku's hand slipped from his did Katsuki's senses sharpen. He heard a groan and a thud, the sound of someone coughing and angry voices. Izuku was jogging toward it. Toward it.

"Izuku! Where are you going?" Katsuki caught up to him just as Izuku rounded the corner of an alleyway, lit by neon and billboard lights atop the building at the end of the alley like a half assed full moon.

"Someone's being hurt." Izuku said breathlessly. And Katsuki's world went into slow motion at the same time Izuku said, "It's Hitoshi!". He was about to run, but before he could sprint, Katsuki pushed him aside shoving him into the wall, his body moving on its own, before seeing too late the glint of the blade as the two men who were kicking at the purple haired man on the floor, eyes widening as Katsuki jumped, knee first into them, dropping one man while the other backed away and prepared to lunge.

Two on one, with a knife. This would be bad. He had to keep Izuku out of this. Katsuki recognized the purple haired man, even with his face bloody and swollen on one side, and he knew Izuku would not hesitate to jump in, and he had to protect Izuku at all costs.

Izuku had already done so much for him.

Katsuki remembered the smell of chlorine, it had infiltrated every one of his senses, smell, taste, it was burning his eyes, drying his skin. And the smell of him.

Katsuki remembered the broken glass and the blood everywhere around the door, dripping down the white and vertical grey surface where Izuku had sliced his hand open after breaking the thick glass with his elbow. The shirt he had wrapped it in wasn't enough protection, because the glass snagged and tore at his flesh as he desperately tried to get in.

Why?

Katsuki had fallen into the pool, hit his head, and was slowly drowning, unconscious. Because he had snuck in after school hours to train, swimming being one of his preferred methods. The door had closed and locked behind him, slipping free of the wedge he had placed there. Mountain climbing replaced swimming after that incident, and he never thanked Izuku for saving his life, because Izuku scared him shitless.

He didn't understand him. How did Izuku know where he was going to be? Why would Izuku save him after he had told him to go kill himself? Guilt and shame had eaten at him for the years after, and after Izuku was no longer a part of his life, it was easy as out of sight out of mind. He didn't have to think about the boy who saved him when he was at his worst, and the way he was scarred for life. Scarred because of him.

He knew Izuku wanted to model like he did, but after the scars and the way his tendon had been ripped, modelling, let alone physical rehabilitation would get in the way of that, and when Izuku found his talent in photography, Katsuki's jealousy and shame grew. He thought he hated Izuku.

All of these things flashed through his mind as the first sharp stab of the blade pushed into his shoulder, tearing through his jacket. He roared in pain, and kicked, low, but missing. He swung his uninjured arm, barely aware of Izuku yelling his name frantically behind him, nearer now.

His body went cold; the idiot had followed him anyway. He was blinded by pain, by pure terror and drive to protect Izuku. His shoulder wouldn't move, and hot liquid was seeping into his jacket sleeve, and some was seeping down his side. He stomped on the man on the floor, his body went limp. As Katsuki spun to confront the other, the knife hit him in his gut. He tensed his muscles and ignored the blinding pain, even as stars burst in his open eyes.

Pulling his head back, he brought it forward quickly, hitting the man in the centre of his forehead, causing him to stumble back. The knife remained lodged in his abdomen and he knew enough to leave it there. Drawing in his hand back and wincing at the point of pain from the knife, he smashed his fist into the man who was holding his head, then again until he fell to the floor.

Katsuki dropped onto him, and rammed his tight fist once, twice, four times, bloodying the face of the man who would have stabbed Izuku if he hadn't gotten there first, until he fell over to the sound of Izuku sobbing his name.