Fuck You, Pay Me

by SixWildMoons

Summary:

Katsuki plucks the glass from the stranger's hand and drinks it down, wrinkling his nose at the harsh burn.

"Fuckin' whiskey? You didn't even get the good shit." He says with a snort, tossing the glass somewhere on the other end of the sofa. The man cocks his head to the side, either incredibly amused or bordering disinterested.

"While Balvenie is quite an aquired taste, I can assure you it is, to borrow from you, the good shit." The man says, leaning back into the sofa while an arm snakes around Katsuki's slim figure to grip his thigh with callous hands.

"Yeah? It tastes like spicy dishwater."

"It's 50 year old single malt scotch whiskey. Someone with a simple pallette wouldn't appreciate it."

"Did you just call me uncultured?"

"I'm saying that you don't look like you're old enough to even know what good whiskey is."

 

Updates on Tuesdays!

Notes:

Hi guys! This story is ShinBaku centric! There's a lot of mentions or drug abuse and other morbid things so please be cautious about reading!

Chapter 1: Prologue

People don't actually look like they're sleeping when they die. 

At least, not from Katsuki's experience. 

He's not an expert, not by a long shot. This is the first time he's ever actually seen a dead body---a real one, not like the ones you see on TV. He found her in the bathroom, lithe frame slumped over the toilet. Her dark, bobbed hair was matted down with sweat against her blue-tinted skin. Vomit and blood clung to her cracked, purpling, bruising lips and the whites of her eyes were spiderwebbed by tiny red veins as they bulged out of her sunken sockets. 

They said it was an overdose. He would've never guessed that Yui was the type to be an addict, all pristine and proper, but you can never judge someone just by looking. Can never tell what demons they fight when eyes aren't prying. 

"Midnight says they're not going to be closing the club. That we should keep quiet about it." Camie told him, looking just as shaken as he did. Of course she'd say that. If the public found out what had happened, they'd probably lose business, right? 

Wishful thinking. 

It's a bitter thought, one that Katsuki doesn't think he should voice aloud so Nejire does it for him. 

"You honestly think anyone cares if we die in here? We're just strippers." 

The next day, it was as if Yui Kodai never existed.

Chapter 2: C'est La Vie

Summary:

Izuku sighs. "Kacchan."

"It's a joke, Deku, fucking hell."

"You're not funny."

"Really? And here I thought I'd be nominated comedian of the year."

"And you can't just use humor to avoid talking about your problem; we talked about this."

Ha! Shows what you know, Shitty Deku. Katsuki can use sarcasm to mask his problems until it kills him.

"You look absolutely horrid."

Izuku's only saving grace from a comment like that is the obvious concern in his tone---coupled with the fact that Katsuki has about all of the energy of an anemic and has no intention to waste it on petty banter and insincere insults. He finds a more proper use for it in fishing around his coat pocket for his lighter, half of a cigarette already poised between lithe fingers.

"I thought you quit those?"

Katsuki did, too. Or, well, at least he tried.

Saying so out loud would more likely than not just sound like half-assed excuses so he opts for a halfhearted shrug in leui of an explanation---to which he owes fucking no one, anyway.

"Cocaine's too tough on my nose so I switched back." He says dryly, flicking the half empty lighter until it sparks and produces a sorry excuse for a flame but it serves to light his cancerous stick of tobacco nonetheless. The first drag is heavenly, taking the tension out of his shoulders.

Izuku sighs. "Kacchan."

"It's a joke, Deku, fucking hell."

"You're not funny."

"Really? And here I thought I'd be nominated comedian of the year."

"And you can't just use humor to avoid talking about your problem; we talked about this."

Ha! Shows what you know, Shitty Deku. Katsuki can use sarcasm to mask his problems until it kills him.

Katsuki can think of about ten other things he'd rather be doing than listening to his friend nag him to death but it would seem those options became mere pointless desires the moment Izuku Midoriya invited himself into Katsuki's apartment.

He's got to hide that spare key somewhere else.

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Phil, for the ever accurate and yet highly rejected psychoanalysis that no one asked for. Anything else I can do for you today or can I enjoy the rest of my fucking cigarette in peace?" He's being fairly lukewarm still, mostly because he's well aware that it would take much more than that to deter the freckled teen from prying and picking his brain. After fifteen years of cursing and insulting him, the intimidation factor has long since gone. At this point, Izuku regards Katsuki's fussing as he would an angry lap-dog.

"Actually, I need to borrow your notes from law ethics. I missed class yesterday and I need them for that exam we've got next week." He's already digging through Katsuki's bag and flipping through his notebooks and Katsuki let's him. The faster he finds what he's looking for, the sooner he can be left alone to be miserable in peace.

"Seriously, what's up with you? You haven't been like this since your pet turtle died in grade school."

Katsuki discards the remains of his cigarette with a scowl, having smoked it down to the filter. It's his last one and he doesn't really have the funds to keep spending on such a bad habit, hence the reason that he's trying to quit although Izuku thinks it's because he wants to be healthier.

"It's work stuff, nerd, don't worry about it."

There's a discernible amount of disdain in Izuku's features.

"You mean that sleezy club you're at, right?"

Here we go, again.

"Don't fuckin' start, Deku."

"Kacchan, you know how I feel about you working there. It's degrading, it's disgusting---"

"It's a fuckin' strip club, not a goddamn prostitution ring."

"It's dangerous and you could get hurt!"

"Like Yui, right? That's what you're thinking?" He's been tiptoeing around the subject since it happened that night---about a week ago now. Katsuki dragged himself from the club---walked---all the way to Izuku's dorm at four in the morning to tell him what happened and he was clearly shaken up in the midst of the whole ordeal. He and Yui weren't friends at all, really, just coworkers but Katsuki had never seen a dead body before---not like that.

Izuku thought it best to hold his I told you so.

"Yui died because she was a goddamn junkie, nobody killed her---"

"Who do you think exposed her to drugs in the first place?"

"Does it matter? Do you think I'm so goddamn impressionable that I'd just take drugs from people? Or do you just expect me to be a complete failure altogether?"

Izuku cuts his spiel short with an exasperated huff. "Kacchan."

Katsuki's too exhausted for this.

"Whatever, shitty nerd. I'm pulling a double shift tonight. You know, to cover the dead girl's shift? What I need is a fucking nap, not a lecture so would you kindly take the notes and get the fuck out? Thanks."

Izuku complies without any objection. He knows he won't be able to talk Katsuki into quitting, especially now that the blonde feels he has something to prove. It's all a mess, really. He almost regrets saying anything about it.

Almost.

"Fine but you have to text me to let me know you've made it there and back safely, alright? And if anything happens just call me and I'll come get you right away---"

"Yeh, I heard you the first six hundred times. The fuck out of here, already."

The door shuts behind Izuku and Katsuki can't be bothered to get up and lock it behind him. That entire exchange was emotionally exhausting, but what's Katsuki to do when his pride is bigger than his need for a more healthy and stable lifestyle?

And rent. Don't forget about rent.

#

Katsuki is fucking tired.

He shouldn't complain---not when he volunteered to take on Yui's shifts until they could hire someone to replace her---but he didn't think that it would be so difficult to keep up. He's done five sets in the last eight hours, feet aching in those six inch stilettos that are starting to pinch around his toes and now he's been requested for a private dance when all he wants to do is pass right the fuck out on the sofa in the boudoir and sleep for eighty years.

Or, ya know, just fucking die.

Midnight comes in like the tyrant she is, pointing red painted nails in Katsuki's direction.

"You've got three minutes, kid, hurry it up!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fuckin' comin'!" Katsuki yells back with an ugly snarl twisted at his lips, turning back to his vanity mirror to finish re-applying his lip gloss to rosy, cherry plump lips. His hair is mussy and glossed over with the sweat of his last performance no less than fifteen minutes prior but he just pats himself down with a towel and reapplies his perfume, debating on whether or not he should take the time to add another layer of mascara. He smirks at himself through the reflection of the vanity mirror's glass, eyeliner still sharp enough to cut a bitch even though he's just spent the last eight hours contemplating jumping head first into traffic.

"Somebody's popular~" Yuga says, plopping down into the overly decorated chair to Katsuki's left. He's covered from head to toe in loose bills and his own bling, diamond chokers and tennis bracelets adorning his slim, lean figure. He crosses his legs at the ankles, showing off his $3,500  Christian Louboutin stilettos that sparkle every single time the vanity light hits them.

"You, on the other hand, look like you just got gang-banged in a jacuzzi full of notes. I'm mad."

Yuga smacks his lips together after rubbing a bit of lipstick off off of his teeth, cutting his eyes at the blonde with that charming little smile that he knows people go crazy for. "Oh, don't act like you don't come back with your little thongs filled with money. If anyone should be jealous, mon amour, it should be me." He swings his wrist in an exaggerated motion that fans Katsuki's ego.

"You're not wrong."

"Honey, you're obsessed with yourself."

"And you're not? Tragic. Even though we both know you're a vain ass bitch."

"Touché. Je suis magnifique, I know~"

Katsuki checks his reflection in the mirror once more, pulling the lacy, strappy lingerie up on his hips. That's all it takes for him to slip into that vixenish facade, turning on his heels with his nose up in the air like the boujie bitch that he is. Yuga claps a pale, round ass cheek and whistles when it jiggles, laughing when Katsuki turns and winks at him as he struts into the opposite direction.

"Have fun, mon amour!"

As if Katsuki was here for fun.

But despite himself, the blonde's lips still curl into that devious trademark smirk.

Okay, Kat, let's make this money.

Chapter 3: Small Talk

Summary:

Up close, he sees that the dusky, dim lighting of the room does him a great atrocity. He's all sharp jaw line and muscle, hair groomed to show off that immaculately handsome face in all the right ways. His body is all hard lines and lean muscle, sturdy and warm as Katsuki cuddles up against his side. The bags under his eyes do nothing to take away from the classic sort of handsome that he is.

It pisses Katsuki off---how attractive he is.

Somnambul gets a kaleidoscope  of clientele. From plain faced salarymen who want an escape from their mundane lives and vanilla wives to fat, greasy slobs who are desperate enough to pay for the attention of of just one beautiful dancer.

It's named the most popular club on this side of the coast because Midnight markets to all men and their weird types and fetishes by not just hiring slim, young girls in their prime. They hired boy like Yuga---one of their most popular dancers---who's primp and proper and just as popular with straight men as he is with gay men because he's so fucking pretty.

Then there's Katsuki, who's gorgeous but bratty and will one-hundred percent cut you if you test him. For some reason, men love that. And so they empty their wallets to see him.

Some like to be degraded---love how insignificant Katsuki makes them feel and he can get behind that with no qualms at all but the others---oh yes---they like to try and tame him. They enjoy the challenge of trying to make him submit and they leave disappointed every time.

Tonight, Katsuki doesn't seem to be dealing with either.

The man crooks a finger at him with a sense of come hither, glass poised between his fingers with the intention of bringing it to completion just as soon as he gets what he wants. A few seconds go by and he visibly sighs, patting his lap to reiterate his earlier request.

Though it seems like a lot more of a demand than a suggestion.

The blonde slinks toward him with that trademark, shit-eating grin plastered to his face as he artfully sits his bare cheeks down in the lap of this stranger.

Up close, he sees that the dusky, dim lighting of the room does him a great atrocity. He's all sharp jaw line and muscle, hair groomed to show off that immaculately handsome face in all the right ways. His body is all hard lines and lean muscle, sturdy and warm as Katsuki cuddles up against his side. The bags under his eyes do nothing to take away from the classic sort of handsome that he is.

It pisses Katsuki off---how attractive he is.

Katsuki plucks the glass from the stranger's hand and drinks it down, wrinkling his nose at the harsh burn.

"Fuckin' whiskey? You didn't even get the good shit." He says with a snort, tossing the glass somewhere on the other end of the sofa. The man cocks his head to the side, either incredibly amused or bordering disinterested.

He decides on the former.

Katsuki expects as much. His bratty, entitled and rude demeanor is his selling point, after all.

"While Balvenie is quite an aquired taste, I can assure you it is, to borrow from you, the good shit." The man says, leaning back into the sofa while an arm snakes around Katsuki's slim figure to grip his thigh with callous hands.

His voice is like something out of Katsuki's wettest teenage dreams.

"Yeah? It tastes like spicy dishwater."

"It's 50 year old single malt scotch whiskey. Someone with a simple pallette wouldn't appreciate it."

"Did you just call me uncultured?"

"I'm saying that you don't look like you're old enough to even know what good whiskey is."

Katsuki wants to be offended but he's tipping more towards being impressed. He's never had someone pull his card like that right out of the gate. Besides, the he isn't wrong.

"Fuckin' whatever." He opts for instead of his usual string of insults. He's not sure he wants to run off a potential meal ticket just yet.

"What's your name?"

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

"Didn't you read the door plate? My name is Kat."

Mystery man's free hand reaches into his pocket to procure a cigarette. He quickly follows up with a lighter once it's clasped between his lips. He's courteous enough to exhale in the opposite direction at least.

"Mhm. What's the name that your mother gave you?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I asked."

Katsuki pauses. "Are you the feds or some shit?" The man scoffs, almost like the question itself is laughable. "Do I look like a cop to you?"

"Don't answer my question with a question, fucker!"

"You mean like you just did to me?"

Katsuki sputters indignantly, arms folding over his chest. There's a mirthful gleam in the other man's eyes that kind of makes Katsuki want to punch him in the throat. "You're not paying me to talk." Katsuki finally counters.

Another scoff.

The stranger taps the ash from the butt of his cigarette. "I'm paying you to do whatever the fuck I want, kid. So let's try this again. What's your name?"

Katsuki considers defying him.

But for some reason, he can't.

"Katsuki."

"Hitoshi."

"I didn't ask."

"I'm well aware." Another drag. The room is becoming a bit hazy from his smoke. "You're what? Eighteen?"

"I'm twenty-one." It's a lie. He is eighteen.

"What's the difference?"

"Fuck you, that's the difference."

A chuckle. "Cutie." Hitoshi ashes the cigarette, tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that's much too sinful to be innocent---Katsuki decides.

"That was quite the dance you did in your last set. You wanna do that routine for me again?"

"That is what I was supposed to be getting paid for but you wanted me to come sit my ass on your lap instead."

"What can I say? It's a nice ass." Hitoshi emphasizes by groping a hand full of it. "I couldn't resist after watching you bounce and twirl it around like that."

"Pervert."

"Pervert?" Hitoshi parrots him.

"Isn't the point of going to a strip club to watch the show? Didn't you wear that skimpy little outfit with your ass cheeks out specifically so I would look at your ass? And since I'm paying you for a lap dance, wouldn't you have ended up in my lap anyway?"

Katsuki bristles. "Yeah, well, what kind of weirdo lecher pays for lap dances just to chat up teenage strippers?!"

"To be fair, kiddo, you spoke to me first and I followed up to be courteous. I'll admit that I'm a little curious about you, though." Hitoshi admits, leaning back against the sofa to get comfortable. "Also, I figured you'd be appreciative to get off of your feet for a while after working all night. You seem really uncomfortable in those shoes. Am I wrong?"

Observant bastard.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't, particularly."

"You're fucking hard to follow, you know that?"

"So I've heard." Hitoshi raises his arm, presumably to check the time. He sighs, leaning forward again with a tired grunt.

"Well, it's been fun, kid, but I've got somewhere to be. I booked you for the next hour, but I've already paid in advance to make sure you get paid in full so don't sweat it." He pats Katsuki's backside and the blonde stands, confused and a little disoriented with the way the night's events have gone.

"Wait, you're going to pay me even though I didn't take anything off or dance even a little?"

Hitoshi shrugs, another cigarette already clasped between his lips as he stands and digs through his wallet. He flips through a few bills before he takes them out and tucks them under the straps of his outfit, fingers brushing against the cool metal of Katsuki's nipple piercing as he pulls his hand away.

"Consider it a tip. I'm paying you for your time. I can tell that you hate working here. Hopefully I made it a little easier for you, if even just for tonight." Within the same instance, he lights his new cigarette and turns his back to Katsuki with a wave.

Katsuki...for once...is grateful to have taken one last client.

"Thanks, lecher."

Hitoshi doesn't even pause in his steps, just offers Katsuki a snort of laughter.

And with that he's gone.

Katsuki just stares at the door, unsure of what to do with the rest of his shift since the client who paid him for it had, more or less, abandoned him to go do God knows what at three in the morning. Should he go home?

Nah, he wouldn't want his check to get cut short.

He toes off his stilettos and plops down onto the sofa with a sigh, finally able to feel his toes again.

"God, working doubles is such a pain in the ass."

Chapter 4: Make Your Acquaintance

Summary:

"Midoriya ran out to get breakfast and coffee from the caf downstairs. Didn't mention that you were here. Didn't mention anyone was here. Did I wake you?"

"What the hell do you think, asshole?"

"Me-ow, you're lot feistier than you were last night. Somebody's a cranky kitty."

Katsuki's not sure of what time it is when he wakes up, he just knows that he's not fucking ready to wake up yet.

It's morning, maybe late afternoon if the bit of sun coming through the blackout curtains of Midoriya's bedroom is of any indication. He remembers calling the freckled man to come and pick him up after his shift, feet much too tired to drag his sorry ass home. He remembers passing out in Midoriya's bed around four o'clock in the morning. He remembers the nerd talking his ear off and doing him the favor of taking his stilettos off for him after he collapsed onto the neatly made queen bed, saying something about at least being comfortable before he goes to sleep but Katsuki was far too gone to be bothered.

He feels around the plush bedding to see if his friend is still there, but he just feels the cold sheets at his side.

So why is Midoriya making so much fucking noise when he knows damn well that Katsuki is still dog tired?

The music is so loud that the bass thumps and vibrates against the walls, framed photos bouncing along to the rhythm. It's some loud ass metal---shit that Deku doesn't even listen to. If it's his stupid roommate again, he'll strangle that idiot with the stereo cord. Kaminari has to know that he's in here and that he's definitely not going to be in the mood for his shit today.

The blonde fussily kicks the blankets off of him, still dressed in strappy lace from last night. He slips one of Izuku's t-shirts over his smaller frame and kicks the bedroom door open to stomp his way out into the hall.

"What the hell, Deku?! I'm tryna fuckin' sleep here---"

His rant dies in his throat upon reaching the living room.

Sitting in the recliner with his booted feet propped onto the coffee table is a man that Katsuki can only describe as classically handsome. His wild  hair defies gravity like a flower's petals shake free in the sun, dark circles underneath his eyes that do little to take away from his annoyingly good looks. He hardly flinches when he sees Katsuki, only moving to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and blow smoke straight up into the air.

"Well, g'mornin' to you, too."

"The hell you doing here?"

Katsuki feels himself becoming flustered for absolutely no reason at all, other than the fact that his overly generous customer from the night before seems to have stumbled his way into his childhood friend's apartment.

Hitoshi, if he remembers correctly.

He looks oddly comfortable with the way he's splayed out over the chair, almost like he's been there before. His sleeves are rolled up to his shoulders to show off monochromatic tattoos that go all the way up his neck.

Katsuki finds himself wondering how far down they go.

"What, your mother not teach you any manners?"

Katsuki just stands there, arms folded over his chest with a nasty glare pointed in the almost-stranger's direction. He takes another long drag from his cigarette, sitting upright in the chair with a sigh once he realizes that Katsuki doesn't have any intentions of being cordial with him.

"Midoriya ran out to get breakfast and coffee from the caf downstairs. Didn't mention that you were here. Didn't mention anyone was here. Did I wake you?"

"What the hell do you think, asshole?"

"Me-ow, you're lot feistier than you were last night. Somebody's a cranky kitty."

He hits a button on a remote sitting on the arm of the chair and the music comes to an abrupt halt.

"Small town, huh? Hadn't bet on seein' your pretty ass over here."

"Yeah, I fuckin' bet. How do you know that shitty nerd anyway?"

"Midoriya? We met in middle school but we also take a class together over at Yuuei University. Worked on a presentation together once and hung out a few times and now we're cool. Pretty cool guy once you get past the annoying bits about him. Good man."

"You go to Yuuei? Aren't you too old to still be in college?"

"Firstly, you're never too old to go get your degree. Having a mindset like that won't get you anywhere in life. Secondly, I'm only twenty-three years old sooooo..." he waves his hand around in a so-so gesture. "I might be able to graduate this year, if I actually start giving a damn."

He looks so much older, Katsuki thinks, and it's probably the simple fact that he also looks as if he hasn't gotten a proper night's sleep since he crawled out of his mother's snatch.

"Don't tell me. I look old, right?"

Katsuki coughs into his fist as he catches himself openly staring.

"Not old, dipshit. Just mature."

"That's about as much as a compliment I've heard from you since we've met."

"Yeah, well, that's about as much as you'll get, fucker."

The front door opens and both of them whip around to watch Midoriya come briskly walking in with a four-way cupholder of coffee balanced on one arm and a paper bag filled with something heinously greasy in the other. Kaminari comes trailing in behind him, his own drink already poised at his lips.

Deku perks up the moment he lays eyes on Katsuki.

"Oh! You're up earlier than I expected, Kacchan. Did you sleep well?"

Katsuki bristles at him like he knows damn well he hasn't.

"I'd still be asleep if your jackass friend wasn't blasting dying cat music at top volume. And what the fuck are you staring at, dumbass?!" He directs the last bit at Denki who openly eyeing him. The shorter blonde plops down onto the sofa with a grin.

"Just appreciating how delicious you look in that t-shirt and panties combo you're sporting, no sweat."

"You want a show, you pay me, you fuck."

"Jeez, Kats, are you ever gonna stop curving me? All I'm asking is one date!"

"Eat a bag of old dicks, Short Shock."

"So he's like this with everyone and not just me, then? Good to know." Hitoshi chimes, ashing his cigarette in the tray set out on the coffee table as he takes his feet down and plants them firmly onto the area rug.

"Sorry, Kacchan. I didn't tell him that you were sleeping in there so if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I can make it up to you, though."

"And how you gonna do that, dipass?"

Izuku holds up the paper bag in Katsuki's view with a smile.

"I got your favorite burgers from that food truck that you like. The one with the cajun fries?"

Katsuki's gaze flickers between Izuku and the bag before he stomps his way over to snatch it away, climbing onto the sofa as far away from Kaminari as he can as he makes himself comfortable.

"By the way, Kacchan, this is Hitoshi! He's a friend from---"

"We've met. On two separate occasions." Katsuki cuts him short, stuffing a hand full of fries into his mouth. He hadn't realized he was actually starving until the smell of food he had absolutely no business eating began to make his mouth water and the sound of his stomach growling reaches his ears. He doesn't have to look up at Izuku to see the absolutely confused expression on his face.

"O-Oh, really? Well, we do all attend Yuuei. I guess it would be inevitable for us all to run into each other at some point---"

"That's true, but I met your...uh...friend... at that club I was telling you about last night." Hitoshi supplies. Izuku stalls for a moment.

"This was the...that one guy you were talking about."

"Yep."

"Oh."

"He says you two losers met in middle school but I've known you since I was four and you've never mentioned this loser."

"Ah, well, it was a very short friendship! He moved away after six months, last month was actually his first start at Yuuei since he just moved back. I just figured we'd catch up today is all."

"Wait, you went to a strip club without us, dude? That's so messed up, I wanted a lap dance from Kacchan too!" Kaminari whines and Katsuki kicks at him from the other side of the sofa.

"Don't you have a boyfriend, Denks?" Hitoshi asks, to which Kaminari shrugs with a sly grin. "Well, yeah, but Shouto and I have a...very open relationship. My baby's a cockslut, after all, and I'm not enough man to keep him satisfied."

"At least you're not in denial."

"I'm totally cool with casual sex. The romance shit is all me, though, and I'll lay a motherfucker out if I ever catch them tryna romance my baby."

"Never met a more odd pair of fuckin' weirdos than you two." Katsuki says with his lip pulled back in distaste. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if he was sitting on his friend's couch with the knowledge that his significant other was probably somewhere being passed around and gang-banged by a bunch of jocks.

"Midoriya gets me, right dude?"

Izuku raises a brow. "Ochako would probably have a meltdown if I even thought about another woman. I can't imagine she enjoys the idea of sharing and neither do I, quite frankly."

"That's how you get STDs." Hitoshi says, taking a bite out of his burger. Kaminari eyes them incredulously, jaw fallen.

"Dude, you often share a bed with you hottie stripper gay best friend and you have never once even thought about sliding in that?"

Katsuki rears his leg back to kick Kaminari even harder this time, relishing in the sound of his pained hiss.

"Kacchan and I established boundaries in our friendship a long time ago and, all respect to Kacchan because he is beautiful, I'm a heterosexual, monogamous male. I have no interest in 'sliding' into anyone that isn't my girlfriend."

"Boo. You guys suck." Kaminari says, defeated.

"What about you, Kat? You got a boyfriend?" Hitoshi asks, turning his attention to the blonde who's the most quiet he's been since they've met. He seems much too occupied with his meal than he cares to be bothered with screeching at them.

Katsuki scoffs. "As if I have time to give to some asshole. You saw what my schedule was like when you booked me last night. Imagine working a shift like that while trying to get through school. I ain't got time for romance."

"Alright, so maybe not a date, but we can smash at least once, right?" Kaminari tries to bargain.

"I will fucking destroy you if you ask me again."

"Oh, yes, I'm way into that kinky shit."

"Do you always have to be so gross, Denki?" Izuku complains, setting the other coffees down onto the table as he seats himself between Katsuki and Denki to keep the more volatile blonde from sending Kaminari to meet his maker.

"Would you ever try?" Hitoshi continues. Katsuki pauses, a look crossed somewhere between highly annoyed and overly exasperated on his features.

"What?"

"What if you didn't have to strip to make ends meet?"

"...what?"

"This...is a really intense line of questioning, Toshi." Midoriya cuts in. He knows Katsuki all too well by now---knows when he's about to lose his shit. He was hoping today would go a bit more peacefully than this.

Hitoshi hums.

"You're right." He says, stretching his limbs and checking his phone. He taps at it a while, shrugging his black leather jacket on and fishing his keys from his pocket.

"Well, it's been nice, Midoriya. Thanks for having me. We've gotta do this again sometime."

Midoriya stands to escort him out like the gracious host that he is, smiling all the while.

"Right! You've got my cell number, right?"

"Yeah. I'll hit you up later, we'll grab drinks sometime."

"Sounds good!"

Hitoshi pauses in the door frame, peeking back inside.

"Good to see you again, Denki. Katsuki."

Denki smiles and waves but all Katsuki offers him is a grunt. Hitoshi flashes that smile at him one last time before he turns and leaves. Midoriya closes the door with a sigh.

"Well, that was eventful."

Denki snorts out a laugh.

"He's totally into Kats."

"Shut up, Denki." Midoriya grumbles. Sometimes he really wishes that he could trade roommates.

Chapter 5: Motives

Summary:

Katsuki would say that he was surprised to see Hitoshi back at Somnambul two weeks after their awkward second meeting, but that would be a lie. In fact, the only definite surprise would be that he didn't come back sooner.

Katsuki would say that he was surprised to see Hitoshi back at Somnambul two weeks after their awkward second meeting, but that would be a lie. In fact, the only definite surprise would be that he didn't come back sooner.

Katsuki spots him sitting near the bar when he struts out on stage, dressed in fishnet shorts underneath black boy-shorts that are two sizes too small---Nejire says he looks absolutely delicious and he damn sure feels like it. He's glad that they finally hired someone to take Yui's place---a cute ginger named Itsuka Kendou. She informed him personally that she'd be splitting half of his work load and he couldn't have been any more overjoyed and having some semblance of normalcy return to his life.

The music for his performance starts and he slides into a more...tempting...facade, sultry eyes and winding hips as he begins a series of pole tricks. Money flurries around him the moment he slides down into a split, cheers and wolf whistles ringing out as he obscenely groped to pole and strokes it up and down, tongue hanging out as he rolls his hips to grind against it. He's a picture of temptation and seduction, manicured and black painted fingers sliding down his chest over pierced nipples as he bites into his lips and plays up a shudder as he sinks down into a squat and onto his knees, crawling forward onto the runway-esque stage platform to allow patrons to stuff his costume with their hard earned money. As he nears the end of the stage, he makes direct eye contact with Hitoshi.

It makes his knees go weak, the way he's watching him.

#

Katsuki counts his winnings with a smirk on his face on the way back to the boudoir, heels clicking against the black glittered tile.

"Lovely job out there, mon amour! It's like watching perfection over and over again~" Yuga says to him as they pass each other, stopping in the hall to press a kiss against Katsuki's cheek that he returns with that cocksure grin still plastered onto his face. He yelps in surprise when Yuga grabs a hand full of his backside and bubbles into giggling laughter when his hand rears back to smack it with a loud clap.

"You better pay me for that, whore." He says jokingly and Yuga winks at him. "Sorry, darling, I couldn't resist! You'll have to take me to the gym with you sometime so that I can get my sorry backside looking as full and beautiful as yours." He says, pinching it as he continues his way to the stage.  "You'd better get your fine ass outta bed when I call you, then!" Katsuki calls after him and Yuga laughs. "Sure, baby, but not before six in the morn. Oh, I almost forgot!"

Yuga turns to face him again as he pauses.

"There's a young man who's booked a private dance from you. He's waiting in your private room, very handsome. Midnight told me to tell you---and I quote---'to get your thick ass back there and make that money'." Yuga says, unable to keep a straight face. Katsuki rolls his eyes with a shake of his head before he nods.

"Thanks, babe. Check your drawer before you leave tonight, I left something for you."

"Of course, darling! Wish me luck~"

As if Yuga needs luck. He's a veteran---probably the one who's been there the longest. He's taught Katsuki everything he needed to know about working there---something about making a market for boys like them where it's predominantly run by women and he can't say he's against that at all. He could only ever hope to perform and move with as much grace as Yuga had; he's a real gem and shouldn't be wasting his talent in some shoddy ass place like this.

Such is life.

Katsuki doesn't bother stopping by the boudoir before making his way to the back, kicking the door open and letting it slam shut behind him as he approaches Hitoshi on the sofa. He stops just a hair short of where he's sitting, arms folded over his chest as he narrows his eyes at him. Hitoshi just watches him with amusement, giving him a very transparent once-over with a predatory gaze in his eyes.

"Here, Kitty Kitty." He says with a smirk, gesturing for Katsuki Katsuki to take a seat in his lap with a deliberate crook of his fingers on the hand that isn't occupied by a lit cigarette. The blonde complies, arms still firmly crossed over his naked chest as he does so.

"You're gonna get fuckin' lung cancer as much as you smoke."

He shrugs. "I ain't dead yet. If it ain't broke, don't fix it." He turns his head to blow smoke from his nose, hand going back to grip Katsuki's thigh. It's a familiar scenario, Katsuki realizes.

His skin still tingles.

"Those your only piercings?" Hitoshi says, nodding towards Katsuki's chest.

"Yeah. These and the ones on my ears. What about you, those your only tats?"

"Nah. They go down to the thighs."

"You got your dick tattooed?"

Katsuki is genuinely curious but the question seems to have taken Hitoshi by the ankle, forcing a laugh from him that turns into a cough as smoke clouds from both his nose and mouth at once.

"Christ, kid, no. My dick and my ass aren't tatted. Everything else though, definitely."

"Did they hurt?"

He mulls it over, leaning back against the sofa as deft fingers lightly brush up his thigh and across his abdomen.

"I think the ones on my pecs hurt the most. The closer the needle got to my nipples, the more I started questioning my life choices. But the more tattoos I got, the more I wanted. You know, to appease the mental breakdown gods."

Katsuki fails to hide his chuckle at that.

"I know what you mean."

"What about you? Gettin' those pretty tits pierced hurt?"

A cynical laugh.

"You kiddin' me? I screamed like a bitch during the first one and almost punched the tattoo artist in the dick. Only reason I ended up doing 'em both is cause Shouto told me I'd be a bitch if I chickened out. I once got my shirt snagged on one fresh out of the tattoo shop and I literally curled into a ball on the floor and cried."

He remembers it so vividly, crying and screaming as Midoriya came to cut the tank top off.

Shouto helped too, applying Katsuki's ointment for him so he wouldn't accidentally hurt himself again, but Katsuki still says it was Shouto's fault in the first place for goading him into doing it.

His friends are such assholes.

"Yeesh. They still hurt?"

"Not really. Just really sensitive. Some of the best sex I've ever had was because of these piercings."

"Mm. So how does this feel?"

"Wha---aaaahhhhh~!"

A hand flies over Katsuki's mouth as soon as the embarrassing noise leaves him, blushing up to the tips of his ears. Hitoshi seems predictably, pleasantly surprised and rolls Katsuki's nipples between his pinched fingers once more. Katsuki squeaks, swatting his hands away with a glare.

"Asshole! Fuckin' cut that out!"

"Why? That was beautiful."

"I loathe you."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kats. I could probably make you cum just from playing with them, that's adorable."

Katsuki narrows his eyes at Hitoshi, arms crossed over his chest to deter anymore of his molestation.

"What's your end game here, Brain Bang?"

"Brain Bang?"

"You. Because all you've done since you walked your sorry ass into my life is play mind games with me."

"Games are fun, though. You don't think so?"

Katsuki is...unsure of how to feel about such a response and wonders if Hitoshi is just fucking with him because Izuku told him that he was an easy target to rile up. They seemed to have had a conversation about him before after their first meeting---a conversation that Katsuki was not present for.

"You come here to keep tabs on me for Deku?"

The question amuses Hitoshi more than it seems to offend him.

"No. In fact, he told me that if I was smart that I'd stay away from you. But what can I say? I'm a man who likes to do what people tell me I can't."

"Just what kind of conversation were you two nerds having about me?"

"Grown folks business, nothing you should be worries about."

Which kind of pisses Katsuki off because Izuku is only a year and a half older than he is. In hindsight, that's most likely why he hadn't met or heard of Hitoshi beforehand. Izuku was in his first year of middle school while Hitoshi was in his last---probably moved away to go to a high school in a better district. By the time Katsuki got to their middle school from grade school, he was already long gone.

That doesn't give Hitoshi the right to treat him like a child.

"You're full of it, you pale piece of zombie shit."

"All you need to know is that Izuku cares so much about his little 'Kacchan'. The first time we linked after I came back, you were all he would talk about. Even more than that cutie girlfriend he's got. You mean a lot to him, you know."

"So what? You're doing this as a favor to him?"

"I don't do favors, I do loans. And didn't you hear me earlier? This is the opposite of what he wanted."

Then it dawns on Katsuki.

"Wait, you knew who I was the first time we met?"

"Not until you told me your name, no. I didn't come here with the intention to be entertained that night. I was actually here on business but when I saw your fine ass, I couldn't resist."

"Business?"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, little kitty." He says, giving Katsuki's backside a harsh squeeze. "Tonight, though, I do want a lap dance. You'll deliver for me, yeah? Show me what those lovely hips can do?"

And Katsuki will, because he's damn good at his job.

#

Hitoshi keeps him there for the rest of his shift, but he makes sure that he pays him well. In fact, it isn't until the club is closing that he leaves. Katsuki notes that he doesn't seem to have some other pressing matter to attend to like he usually does---hasn't checked his phone even once. He's curious as to what kind of work he does. How does a college student who's barely floating himself through graduation have so much money to blow on fifty year old whiskey and mouthy blonde strippers?

"You're drunk." Katsuki points as Hitoshi staggers a bit in his standing. He's able to right himself without much hassle but he sways, reaching out to put an arm around Katsuki's nude form.

What? Katsuki's a full nude type of bitch---because the more he takes off, the more he gets paid. He's long since abandoned any feeling of shyness---especially since he's grown into his figure.

Besides, it's not like his outfits left much to be imagined.

He stumbles a bit as Hitsohi nearly falls on top of him. He supposes that's what happens when you've been drinking scotch for four hours straight. He's surprised he's not passed out on his ass.

"Oop, my bad." He chuckles as he shifts his weight. "I was just gonna ask you if you needed a ride home. It's kinda late, bunch of creepers out there."

"You're a creeper."

"Incorrect as always but okay."

"Besides, I've got a ride home. My shitty friend wants me to sleep over at his tonight---something about his loser dad threatening to kick his door in or some shit." Katsuki explains, slipping his stilettos off and pulling his shorts back on. He can't be bothered with that fucking fishnet right now.

Hitoshi follows him out, curiously watching as several other dancers filtered about the hall in preparation to leave. He ducks under the low door frame of the boudoir, hazy gaze floating about as the other dancers look at him with an odd look in his eyes.

"Who's that?" Camie asks Katsuki as he approaches his vanity, reaching underneath it to grab his duffle bag---or his 'hoe bag', as Mina likes to call it. Katsuki settles it over his shoulder with a sigh.

"He's a friend of Deku's. Gonna wait for my ride with me, make sure I'm not gettin' snatched or whatever."

"You have such good looking friends; I'm kind of jealous." Nejire says from where she's slipping a t-shirt on over her head. Katsuki scoffs at her. If only she knew the consequences of dealing with these morons.

"Kitty, hurry up. I'm gonna fuckin' fall asleep over here." Hitoshi slurs, wiping a hand over his face as if it's enough to sober him up.

"Nobody's making you stay, Brain Bang, take your ass home."

"Fuckin'---no, I'm gonna make sure you get home first." He almost whines. Katsuki tries and fails to hide the way his lips curl into a smile, looking back over his shoulder to see Hitoshi very reminiscent of a pouting child. He shakes his head fondly and slides his feet into his sandles, dragging Hitoshi along on his way out.

He sees a very tired looking Yuga from the end of the hall, feet dragging and not even having bothered to put most of his ensemble back on. They hang from his lithe, slender frame as a testament to his exhaustion, but he smile when he makes eye contact with Katsuki.

"Enjoy your day off tomorrow, love! You certainly deserve it with how hard you've been working." His voice is absolutely wrecked and Katsuki spares him a worried glance.

"You okay babe?"

"Mm? Oh, yes, I'm fine. My last dance was for a group is all. They were...fairly handsy."

Katsuki's eyes narrow and Yuga seems to read his thoughts, hands flying up in a defensive posture.

"Sweetheart, it's really not that serious. You know how they get sometimes and it's nothing I haven't dealt with before---"

"That doesn't fucking make it right, Yu."

Yuga's hands fall and he slumps over in defeat with a heavy sigh.

"Listen, honey. I'm very exhausted and just want to go home and sleep. Please, please just let it go. For me?"

Jaw tight, Katsuki audibly swallows and nods.

"Okay, fine. But you take tomorrow off---"

"Katsuki---"

"You fuckin' take tomorrow off or I'll drag your ass, this isn't up for discussion, Yuga."

The smaller blonde hesitates for a moment but his smile returns and he reaches out to hug Katsuki and press a kiss to his jaw, pink lipstick smeared against his skin.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

Yuga shakes his head.

"No, darling, thank you. You're always forcing us to take care of ourselves around here, we really don't deserve you."

And with that he continues to drag himself into the boudoir. Katsuki isn't all too sure he'd have a proper response to that either way.

"Katsuki? You're taking forever, I'm ready to go to bed."

Katsuki whips around, jerking back a bit when he comes face to face with blue and gray heterochromatic eyes.

"Jesus Christ,  Shouto."

The taller teen is in his pajamas, arms folded over his chest with his keys in hand. It's no surprise that Midnight let him in, she's been trying to convince him to work for her forever.

"I've been waiting for like twenty minutes."

"Well, shit, my bad."

"You owe me for even doing this for you, you know."

"Full of shit, bitch, you volunteered for your own selfish purposes."

"Wanting to cuddle my best friend and eat cookies all night is not selfish reasoning."

"Really?"

"Whatever, can we just---Hitoshi?"

Hitoshi snaps out of whatever drunken stupor he's in at the sound of his name, eyes flickering down at Shouto.

"Oh, Todoroki. What's up, man?"

Shouto's curious gaze flickers down at Katsuki for answers.

"He comes and books private dances."

"Oh. Is he drunk?"

"Very."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should he be driving?"

"Probably not."

"I'll call an Uber if it makes you feel better. Even though I'm perfectly capable of driving myself home." Hitoshi assures them. Shouto rolls his eyes with a scoff.

"Right. We both know you're just gonna take a thirty minute nap in your car and then drive home like you always do."

Ah. So Shouto was also familiar with Hitoshi. It seems like he was the only one of them to have never had the pleasure of meeting him beforehand.

"Well, thanks for making sure he was safe I guess. C'mon, Kat, let's go."

Katsuki doesn't fuss this time, giving Hitoshi one last wave before he follows Shouto out to his car.

He's looking forward to sleeping in tomorrow.

Chapter 6: Love Spell

Summary:

"Don't you ever get tired of this?"

Shouto scoffs.

"Well, yeah. Denki says we can move soon so I'm hoping it won't continue to be a problem anymore. That's why he's been working night shift. Well, that and to buy a car."

Katsuki can't help the way that the corners of his mouth turn upward.

"You nerds are so hopelessly in love."

Notes:

Can you guys tell yet that this is a story about respecting sex workers and that I'm totally in love with platonic TodoBaku?

Katsuki wakes up to the abrupt and jarring noise of loud and obnoxious banging on the door. Shouto, who's limbs are tangled into his own, jolts up from his spot sprawled across the bed and nearly knocks Katsuki off of his chest in the process. His eyes are wide and confused, still fogged with sleep even though his heart is racing. Is someone trying to break in.

"I know that you're in there, Shouto! Open this door at once!"

Both teens sigh and drop back down onto the bed, eyes rolling as the knocking continues.

"He's so fucking annoying." Shouto grumbles under his breath and Katsuki, still exhausted from his shift, grunts his agreement. Every few weeks or so, Shouto's father comes to try and drag him home because he doesn't approve of his and Kaminari's relationship. Kaminari himself doesn't allow for the elder man to bother him with his nonsensical rambling---and ironically the man only ever seems to come when Kaminari isn't home.

"Wan' me to call 'a cops?"

"Just ignore him, one of the neighbors will do it."

They always do.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?"

Shouto scoffs.

"Well, yeah. Denki says we can move soon so I'm hoping it won't continue to be a problem anymore. That's why he's been working night shift. Well, that and to buy a car."

Katsuki can't help the way that the corners of his mouth turn upward.

"You nerds are so hopelessly in love."

He feels Shouto smile into his hair.

"As long as it shows. I'd never give up being with Denki to go home to him. Any time he can't get his way he throws a tantrum and thinks that threatening me is going to change anything. You know he threatened to hit me if I didn't come home?"

That makes Katsuki tense.

"What does Kaminari say about all this?"

"That he's got no qualms laying any of these fuckers out and that if any of them look like they're even thinking about touching me, they're dead."

And as much as Katsuki doesn't really like Kaminari, he appreciates that he does, beyond all odds, loves and protects his friend with his whole heart. Shouto is an asshole, yeah, but he's an amazing person and honestly incredibly sweet and loving. He deserves someone who's going to love him the way he should be loved.

"You guys are so cute that it's gross."

"I love you too, baby."

The banging does eventually stop and both teens look first to the bedroom door and then each other. It's uncomfortably silent, almost a ringing in their ears before they hear the distinguishable sound of Denki's annoyed voice yelling from outside---undoubtedly at Shouto's father.

"Didn't I fuckin' ask you not to come back here?! The fuck are you doin'?!"

"Don't you be crass with me, boy! I'm here to take my son home---"

"He fucking is home!"

"I refuse to allow you to keep whoring out my son---"

"Whoring him out?! You don't have the slightest fucking idea of what you're talking about, you fucking shitbag! I'd never do anything to devalue him---Shouto is the love of my life!"

"You love him?! What future do you have for him?! Is he to spend the rest of his life working while you struggle to follow your dreams as some low rate rockstar with zero talent?!"

"Fuckin' fight me, you old bitch!"

Shouto heaves a suffering groan and curses under his breath, throwing the covers off of himself and jumping out of bed to make a run for the door---Katsuki hot on his heels. They haven't even bothered to put their underwear on, worried that Kaminari may very well have written his own death wish. As strong as the usually bubbly blonde is, there's no way he can take Enji---a man three times his size---without a weapon.

God forbid he has a weapon.

Shouto swings the door open just as Denki shoves Enji away from it, stepping in between to them in hopes that it would keep them from swinging at each other.

"Hey---hey, would you two fucking stop?!" He yells as Enji tries to shove him out of the way. Katsuki wedges himself between them and shoulders Enji away from Shouto with a glare before he jabs a painted nail into his chest.

"Hey! Watch it, bastard!"

And the older man's mouth curls into a snarl but he doesn't try to shove him again. Shouto is finally able to reign in Denki with hushed words and harsh whispers.

"Denki---"

"I fucking told you what would happen if he kept trying me---"

"I know---I do, but baby---"

"I'm not fucking around Shouto!"

"Okay---okay, I hear you. Please, please just calm down? For me?"

Kaminari makes the mistake of meeting Shouto's direct gaze, looking away with a sigh a not even a moment after.

"Fine. Fine. God, you fuckin' know I can't say no to you when you look at me like that."

Shouto's lips curl into a giddy smile, his nose pressed against Denki's as he coaxes him to look him in the eyes again.

"My hero. I love you so much~"

Denki finally smiles, catching Shouto's lips in kiss.

"There's nothin' I wouldn't do for you, baby."

Enji growls in the back of his throat and the couple turns to glare at him.

"Why are you still here?"

"I am not leaving without even so much as even having a word with my son."

Denki scoffs at him. "Well you better get to talkin' cause I'm not leaving you alone with him."

"What?"

"You think I forgot about you puttin' your fuckin' hands on him? You can't be trusted."

And instead of saying anything at all Enji just narrows his eyes at them and turns on his heels to stomp away. Shouto finally relaxes as a car door slams and his father angrily drives off, tension leaving his shoulders.

"You okay?" Katsuki asks him as he notices that his friend looks a bit weak in the knees and fatigued. Shouto offers him a shaky nod. "Y-Yeah. It just---it takes a lot out of me when he comes here. My anxiety and blood pressure spikes like crazy and I just...feel a little lightheaded." He explains as he's being ushered back into the apartment. Katsuki sets him down on the sofa and Denki quickly goes to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. Shouto's hands are so shaky that he can hardly hold it so Denki just tips it up to his lips.

His condition isn't de-escalating.

#

"You guys really didn't have to come---I was gonna be fine."

"Nonsense! You're our friend; of course we'd be there for you!" Ochako assures Shouto as she hands him a cool towel. Izuku busies himself with setting out food on the coffee table, Katsuki rubbing soothing circles into the back of his neck with his thumb to help him relax.

"Sorry, baby. I know we were supposed to go shopping and see a movie or some shit---"

Katsuki waves him off.

"Shut up, Halfie. You know I don't care about missing out on shit like that. The whole plan was to spend my day off with you, doesn't matter how we do it."

"You are the greatest best friend to ever best friend."

"I know, bitch."

Izuku pokes his lip out in a pout.

"I thought I was your best friend, Kacchan?"

"You're like a really annoying older brother."

"...annoying though?"

"Annoying as fuck, but I still love you."

And Izuku shrugs. He'll get what he can take.

"Your dad's such a fucking prick. He only keeps doing this because he knows you're afraid of him." Denki rolls his eyes, cracking open a beer as he plops down next to his lover.

"Within good reason. His dad doesn't have the best track record." Izuku points. From beating his mother, nearly killing his older brother and abusing Shouto for nearly the entirety of his childhood---Enji Todoroki was a real piece of shit and didn't have a shred of remorse for any of it. Katsuki is sure that he's the one that gave Shouto that scar, but the only one of them who knows the real story is Denki. And that's fine, he won't make Shouto talk when it's obviously such a delicate topic. If he's ever ready, Katsuki will be there to listen.

"You know, all you have to do is say the word and I can make him disappear." Hitoshi says from where he's seated on the ottoman. Katsuki still wonders why he's here at all or who even invited him. No doubt it was probably Kaminari---calling his best friend to help stomp out the rest of his anger but Hitoshi only seemed to succeed in riling him up further.

"Shouto knows that I will smoke his fuckin' father and make him one with the concrete. The only reason I have shot that fucker dead yet is because he begs me not to."

"Who even gave you a gun, Short Shock?"

"I'm gonna pretend that you're not being an asshole on purpose and remind you that I am old enough to be licensed to carry, Katsuki."

"I'm fairly surprised you haven't accidentally killed anyone yet." Izuku teases and Kaminari makes a halfhearted motion to flip him off with a grunt.

Katsuki feels so out of place, watching everyone be all lovey dovey and gross with each other. Ochako is happily curled into Izuku's lap and Shouto has tangled himself with Kaminari, flipping through the Netflix menu to find something decent to watch. It's all so domestic and Katsuki...

Well, he feels like a fucking fifth wheel.

"You good, Kats?" Hitoshi says, breaking him from his thoughts. The blonde had forgotten that the older man was even there and somehow finds solace in the fact that he isn't the only one there who's not boo'd up.

He grunts a noncommittal response and Hitoshi's lips curl into that fucking smirky grin. He leans back against the loveseat and pats his lap. It's not like the first time they met---more of an offering than a demand.

"Why?"

"Cause I'm not used to talking to you when you're not in my lap."

Katsuki rolls his eyes, doing a terrible job at hiding the way he laughs at him as he stands and complies with Hitoshi's request. He's got no reason to---this isn't work and Hitoshi isn't paying him but the purple-haired man has managed to charm him like that in the short time that he's known him and---dare he say it---he actually kind of likes him.

Izuku watches him silently as he settles into Hitoshi's lap and, just like always, a thick hand reaches around to grope at his thigh.

"What, not gonna try and bite me today?"

Katsuki snorts.

"I've run out of the amount of energy that it takes to keep you from sticking your hand in the cookie jar."

"Ou, is that surrender I hear?"

"Surrender to what, exactly?"

Hitoshi hums thoughtfully, almost like he hasn't actually even figured out what his end goal was. Katsuki wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if he hadn't.

"Hadn't really thought that far ahead. Just assumed I'd be playin' cat and dog with you until your little pretty ass figured out you liked me. Guess I'm more of a charmer than I thought I was."

"Cat and dog?" Katsuki says with a raised brow. That's definitely not how that expression goes, but Hitoshi's grin nearly splits him in half at that.

"Cause I definitely planned on eatin' the hell outta you when I finally caught ya."

Katsuki's face turns bright red and Kaminari cackles from his seat on the couch.

"Toshi, my man, you are too much."

"Hot ass mess. Just go fuck already, would you? You've been giving each other the googly eyes since you've met." Shouto accuses to which Hitoshi just shrugs and Katsuki sputters indignantly.

"Fuckin' lies."

"Right hand on the bible?"

Katsuki narrows his eyes at his friend, but says nothing to which Shouto just chuckles and shoves a hand full of popcorn into his mouth. Hitoshi's hand squeezing his thigh brings his attention back. He looks him directly in the eyes and immediately looks down at his lap when he sees such an intense look in his eyes. Hitoshi sits up, breath tickling against Katsuki's ear.

"You're so fuckin' cute when you're all shy like that." He whispers, chuckling when Katsuki squirms in his lap and slap the back of his hand across his chest.

"Fuckin' shut up."

He's not used to being picked apart like this.

#

"You sure you don't need a ride home, Kacchan?" Izuku asks him for the eighth time in a row.

"I told you I'm fine, Deku."

"But---"

"Don't worry, Midoriya. I'll take care of him." Hitoshi volunteers, following Katsuki out into the parking lot. Izuku just stands at the drivers side of his car, hand gripping the handle even as his gaze narrows in Hitoshi's direction.

"Izu-kun?" Ochako questions from the passenger's seat. He flickers his gaze at her a moment and then back at Hitoshi.

"Text me when you make it home." Is all he says before he slides into his car and slams the door shut without another word. They both watch his pull out of his parking space rather recklessly and speed out of the lot. To say that Katsuki was a bit shocked would be an understatement.

"The hell is his problem?"

Hitoshi chuckles, cigarette pressed between his lips.

"I think Izuku is starting not to like me."

And as ridiculous as it sounds, he thinks Hitoshi might be right. He just can't figure out why.

"Well, thanks for gettin' him off my back, I guess."

"Well, I actually do have every intention on making sure you get home. He's right to worry about you; don't be dense."

Katsuki rolls his eyes and starts walking, only for Hitoshi to quickly turn him by the shoulder and usher him into the opposite direction. It happens so fast that it disorients him a bit.

"D---hey!"

"Complaining won't help you so don't fight me on this, alright? I know you're a tough kitty but you're a really easy target and I'd hate to have to kill someone tonight so let me take you home." He says and Katsuki finds himself snorting at him.

"You're just as dramatic as Deku and Shock Shit."

"...yeah. Dramatic."

Something about the way he says it unsettles Katsuki just the slightest.

Before long, he's standing in front of a motorcycle. It doesn't look new or very flashy, but it's well taken care of. Hitoshi reaches into his bag and tosses Katsuki a helmet.

"Hop on."

Katsuki stared at the helmet in his palms a moment.

"Where's yours?"

"Don't need it. C'mon, it's getting late."

"Are you crazy? You can't just---"

Hitoshi is on him in two quick strides, holding Katsuki's chin between his fingers. The blonde snaps his mouth shut and swallows thickly, that same look from earlier in Hitoshi's eyes.

The older man smiles.

"You worried 'bout me, baby?"

Katsuki tries to turn away, but Hitoshi tightens his grip and forces him to look at him once more.

Katsuki's pouting. So cute.

"Quit calling me these stupid pet names, I'm a damn grown ass man."

"Mm." Hitoshi muses. Not once does he look away, tracing his thumb over Katsuki's bottom lip.

"Yeah, you are. But you're so fuckin' pretty. So fuckin' cute. You know how hard it is not to call you cute shit when you're bein' this fuckin' cute?"

Hot. Katsuki's skin feels so hot, what the fuck?

When Hitoshi leans in to press his lips against his own, he damn near overheats and drops to the ground like a fly. The older bites his lip, releasing him as that arrogant, smirky grin rears it's ugly head again. Katsuki can still feel his breath against his lips when he speaks to him again.

"So you're gonna get on and lemme take you home so I know you're safe, right?"

And somehow, Katsuki nods before he's even able to find words to form---the ones 'fuck you' being at the very tip of his tongue. Wordlessly, Hitoshi mounts his bike and gestures for Katsuki to get on behind him. The blonde complies, awkwardly quiet as he settles the helmet into place.

"Hold on tight to me."

As if there was anything else he could bring himself to do.

Chapter 7: Walking on Eggshells

Summary:

"Listen, Katsuki. All I'm saying is that he's bad news for someone like you. You have a reputation. You have the potential to have a career in law enforcement like you wanted once you graduate. You have people who love and care about you. I love and care about you. Someone like Hitoshi has nothing to lose. So everyone becomes expendable to him. You follow?"

No. Not in the slightest.

Notes:

Protective Midoriya for the winnnn

"What's been with Midoriya?"

The question itself adds to Katsuki's incredibly foul mood, mostly because he doesn't know the answer and he wishes like hell people would stop asking.

He's attempted to get answers already and it served only to annoy him more when the freckled man blatantly ignored him in the hall stepped into their classroom without so much as even looking at him. Ochako seems to be the only person he'll exchange words with, and even then they're kept short. She seems to know more about what's bothering him than they do, but they know that she's not going to budge on that information either since he clearly doesn't want anyone to know.

"Fuck if I know. He's been a dick to me all morning so I'm not going to try and find out." He says as Kaminari sits across from him at the table. "You're his roommate; why don't you know?"

He shrugs, actually taking his textbooks from his bags. If it weren't for the fact that he was highly irate, Bakugou would be surprised and commend him for actually coming with the intention to study.

"I don't know, dude. He was yelling at someone last night on the phone---I could hear it from my room. He's been angry ever since, slamming doors and being all aggro. It's weird."

It is. Because Izuku isn't some aggressive meat head. He's passionate about things, sure, but in a healthy way. He's never been the type to be flat out, annoyingly angry and he's never ever just shoved Katsuki aside like that. He'd be angry---hurt, even---if he wasn't so worried.

Kaminari's gaze flits behind Katsuki and he does a double take, grin nearly breaking him in half.

"There's my baby; c'mere beautiful."

Katsuki turns just in time to see Shouto approaching the table, Kaminari's arms looping around his waist to drag him into his lap and press kisses to his neck. Shouto smiles, reaching out to brush Katsuki's fringe away from his eyes and press a kiss to his forehead.

"Hey, babies."

"Hey yourself." Katsuki says fondly, pressing his own lips against Shouto's jaw before half and half teen pulls away. "Where the hell were you during law ethics? You know you missed a shit ton of study material for exams, right?"

Shouto rolls his eyes. "Does it matter when you're going to let me borrow your notes anyway? Besides, I had a dick appointment."

Katsuki grimaces and aggressively wipes at his face with the back of his hand. "Ew, bitch, you just put your mouth on me after you've been sucking dick? Stranger dick, at that?!"

"I was not sucking dick, I just wanted to ride. Don't worry, I didn't give you cooties. And it wasn't a stranger."

"Who was it then?" Both blondes ask simultaneously, Denki out of curiosity and Katsuki from sheer skepticism.

"Iida."

"Full of shit. Straight collar Glasses McGee did not skip class to let you ride his dick." Katsuki snorts, shutting his textbook to put it away in his bag. Shouto shoots him a sly look, smirk plastered on his ridiculously pretty face.

"Did you see him in class?"

Katsuki's eyes narrow.

"Receipts or it didn't happen."

Shouto fluidly procures his cell phone---almost as if he's had it at the ready for this very occasion, smirk still plastered onto his face.

"You want pics or video?"

Katsuki throws his head back with a cackle, snatching the phone out of Shouto's hand and scrolling through his camera album with his mouth agape even through his shit-eating grin.

Shouto has no business being this slutty.

"Oh my God, you filthy whore!" He laughs as he scrolls across one particular picture in the album that nearly has him crumpled onto the ground with laughter.

It's a photo of him sitting on Iida's face, the megane's glasses perched on Shouto's nose as he bites into his bottom lip and stares right into the camera. Iida's big, beefy hands are gripping at Shouto's thighs, face disappearing between Shouto's ass cheeks with only so much as his chin out. If it wasn't for Tenya's recognizably imposing and bulky frame, Katsuki would have thought he was just  suffocating some random.

He can't believe he actually got that prude to fuck him.

"What witchcraft are you using on these fuckers?"

Shouto takes his phone back, opening his camera app to check his appearance.

"Not a single spell. You'd be surprised how many men would be down to fuck if you just flat out ask."

"Most people get their noses broken for that. You better be careful; some straight guy could really try to hurt you for that, baby." Kaminari scolds him and Shouto snorts.

"Straight. Yeah, okay."

"Straight men exist, Sho."

"Spaghetti is straight too, until you get it wet and boil that shit."

Katsuki chokes out another laugh, halfheartedly smacking Shouto across the shoulder. He knows that Shouto is mostly just fucking with Kaminari---but his snark holds some truth. Up until five minutes prior to that conversation, Katsuki was almost certain that Tenya Iida was straight. Hell, everyone thought Iida was straight.

And it's not just Iida, either.

Shouto has slept with various men believed to be straight, including several of the varsity athletes and a few of Kaminari's band mates. Katsuki thought for sure that Kirishima guy was into chicks with big tits, but Shouto climbed that mammoth of a man and rode him until the sun came up.

Lucky bitch.

"You need a ride to work tonight?" Shouto asks him, putting his phone away. Katsuki shakes his head as he continues to put his books away. "No, Sho, I told you that I'm fine with walking."

"Well, you're not walking tonight. It's supposed to be raining and I don't want you to get sick so you either let me take you to work or let Denki take you to work. Take your pick."

"That's basically the same option."

"Oh fucking well, deal with it."

Katsuki mutely thinks that maybe he's influenced Shouto a bit too much. It's like talking to himself---and it's a lot more annoying than you might think.

"Fine."

"Good. I'll pick you up at six."

"I don't have to go until eight."

"Well I wanna help you pick your outfit."

The conversation stops abruptly when a bad is slammed down onto the table, startling Katsuki and Shouto both as they whip around to glare at the end of the table.

Only to see Izuku glaring right back.

He vehemently takes a seat, still looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but where they are and Katsuki can't figure out why the fuck he's sitting there if he's mad at them or some shit.

"Quit staring at me." The greenette mumbles as he takes his notebook out of his bag and slams it onto the table, flipping through a few pages before he actually stops to read them.

"Fucking excuse you, Deku! How the fuck are you gonna tell us not to stare when you came over here being extra as fuck for not a single apparent reason? Especially since you've been a dick to everyone all day and thinks it's just cool to sit your ass down without so much as an explanation or apology!"

Izuku remains silent, brows knit together with the active effort it takes to pretend like he doesn't hear Katsuki talking to him.

After a moment, there's a collective sigh before the other pack up to leave Izuku there by himself but he reaches out to grab Katsuki's wrist, avoiding eye contact at all costs. The blonde glares back at him, albeit curious. The others seem to catch on too, pausing to eye Izuku with a cautious gaze.

"Lemme talk to you for a sec. Alone." He says to Katsuki and as much as the blonde fireball wants to tell him to promptly shove it up his ass and fuck off, he does sit back down. Shouto stands there, waiting for Katsuki to give him instructions but the blonde just shakes his head and waves him off.

"I'm fine. I'll call you."

He seems skeptic, but Katsuki knows it's misplaced. Izuku isn't going to hurt him---no matter how much of an ass he's being.

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Positive."

Shouto hums in affirmation, allowing Kaminari to pull him along by his hand to give the two of them some space. It's silent still when they leave, Izuku just staring into his notebook for a solid three minutes before Katsuki gets annoyed all over again. He sucks his teeth at him.

"Fuckin' serious, Deku? If you're not gonna talk---"

"I'm just trying to grab my bearings here, Kacchan. Shut up for a second."

"It's been several seconds, Izuku, quit ducking with me and just tell me what the hell is up with you. You're making me nervous."

Izuku takes a deep, suffering breath and closes the notebook, turning to face Katsuki and look him dead in the eyes. That glare held just moments ago is gone---replaced with something much more fearful and vulnerable.

"Kacchan. This is going to sound really stupid but I need you to steer clear of Hitoshi."

Katsuki pauses, blinking as his mouth gapes slightly.

"Yeah, that does sound stupid. Is that what this is about? You're mad still because I let him take me home and not you the other night?"

It's ridiculous and...kind of cute that Izuku would be jealous of Hitoshi.

The freckled man bristles.

"I'm not fucking jealous, okay?"

A pause.

"Not...not completely. But that's neither here nor there and it has absolutely nothing to do with why I need you to stay away from him. I just...I want you to be safe, Kacchan. I worry so much about you and every single time I know that you're with him it makes my skin crawl. Because I know you're not safe. I don't know what I'd do if something ever happened to you."

Katsuki has mercy on him and quits his teasing---especially since he can tell that Izuku isn't just yanking him by the dick and is genuinely concerned. He's just not sure why he feels any reason to worry about someone as harmless as Hitoshi. Izuku would know, as he's known and spent more time with him than Katsuki has, but he doesn't seem willing to disclose such information.

"Is that who you were arguing on the phone with last night?"

He pauses. It's enough of an answer for Katsuki. He sighs, unfolding his arms from his chest.

"But why, Izuku? What did you even get into a fight about?"

"It wasn't even a fight---that asshole just sat there and laughed at me the entire time. He pisses me off so fucking bad but I've got no choice but to deal with him so---"

"Why don't you have a choice?"

"Listen, Katsuki. All I'm saying is that he's bad news for someone like you. You have a reputation. You have the potential to have a career in law enforcement like you wanted once you graduate. You have people who love and care about you. I love and care about you. Someone like Hitoshi has nothing to lose. So everyone becomes expendable to him. You follow?"

No. Not in the slightest.

"What do you mean someone like me, hah?"

Izuku throws his hands up in exasperation and kicks at the table.

"Seriously?! Out of all of the incredibly important shit I just said, that's what you want to go into depth about?"

Katsuki's brows knit together. He's still fairly confused about this entire ordeal---still confused about why Izuku is so upset and why he thinks Hitoshi is a bad person...

Or more like how he knows.

He's got a lot of questions. But he's not all too sure that Izuku will be willing to give him many answers---if any at all.

"You're a good person, Kacchan. And I know you like to play the big bad wolf all of the time but you're actually too fucking trusting for your own good and sometimes you're naive to people's faults. It's okay to see the good in people. But I refuse to allow you to try and save someone at your own expense."

Katsuki remembers something that Hitoshi had said to him a while back.

' All you need to know is that Izuku cares so much about his little Kacchan.'

And Katsuki often forgets that he does. He forgets that Izuku isn't just trying to annoy him most times and that he's genuinely worried---genuinely concerned for his kohai. He must have thought hard about this conversation before he'd even approached Katsuki.

"Izuku. Just tell me flat out what's going on, please. What did he do? Why are you so against me seeing him when the two of you are such great friends?"

Izuku is back to avoiding direct eye contact, so Katsuki knows that he's either about to bend the hell out of the truth or just lie to him altogether.

"Not so much friends as we are colleagues."

"Colleagues?"

Izuku got a job?

"It's complicated, Katsuki. And it's not really something I can have the gall to be proud of. I just want you to be safe." He looks Katsuki in the eyes again.

"Promise me you won't see him again."

"Izu, I can't do that. He comes to my job---you know I can't---"

Izuku curses under his breath.

"I know. I know."

Silence.

Katsuki begins to fidget in his seat, incredibly anxious and uncomfortable until, eventually, Izuku stands and extends his hand to him. Katsuki looks up at him, noticing that the prominent wrinkle in his brow has dissipated and he's somewhat resumed a more calm and rational demeanor.

"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk to you today. Forgive me?"

Katsuki fondly rolls his eyes.

"Not like I can really stay mad at you, loser."

Izuku beams at him.

"Aw, you love your nii-san~"

"I didn't say all that shit!"

"Your lips say fuck off, Deku but what they really mean is I love you, Deku."

He giggles and dodges Katsuki's punch, walking side by side as they make their way to the campus dorms.

It's good to have his Izuku back.

Chapter 8: Triggered

Summary:

Yuga groans, visibly annoyed.

"God, what am I doing with my life? I haven't been in college for twelve years; I have absolutely no business in some barely legal teenager's lap."

Katsuki rears back a bit in surprise at that.

"Jesus, Yu, how fuckin' old are you?"

"Rude."

Notes:

Slight non-con warning!

"I don't get paid enough for this shit." Katsuki says aloud as he plops down into his vanity chair, short of breath and so incredibly sweaty that his usually styled hair is nearly flattened out, stuck to his face and the back of his neck in a wet mess. He bristles at himself in the mirror, taking a dry towel and patting himself down before he begins to towel off his hair. He'd have to change outfits and, against his own wishes, use that stupid ass dry shampoo Camie is always using between sets. Thank the powers that be that his makeup is still in place---and thank God for extra strength deodorant.

"Is it just me or are the lights out there a lot more hot than usual?" Yuga says as he sits next to him at his own vanity, glaring at his reflection as he reaches for cold water bottle on his desk and chugs it in five seconds flat.

"Yeah they fuckin' are. And why the fuck are there so many fuckin' clients here on a Monday? It's packed like fuckin' sardines in here. Did we miss somethin'?"

"Not sure, darling, but I'd certainly rather be literally anywhere but here." The smaller blonde says venomously. Katsuki knows he's just being bratty because he hates being hot and sweaty, but he can't help but feel a sense of empathy for him. He gives him an encouraging pat on the back.

"Chin up, bitch, you got this. You're a fuckin' vet. Don't let some loose as college kids and some white collar fuck offs knock you off your game."

Yuga groans, visibly annoyed.

"God, what am I doing with my life? I haven't been in college for twelve years; I have absolutely no business in some barely legal teenager's lap."

Katsuki rears back a bit in surprise at that.

"Jesus, Yu, how fuckin' old are you?"

"Rude."

"I'm just sayin', you look damn good for thirty-two. You don't look a day over twenty-one; you age like a fuckin' god."

"Goddess, honey. And I'm thirty-four. Good genes and proper skin care will do that for you." He gives Katsuki a once over with an appreciative hum. "And you'll age much better than I. It's like you were born from the fountain of youth---sickening."

"Shut up, you're a grade A hottie. You know how many of these girls would kill to be as fuckin' hot as you?"

"Do you know how many people would kill to be as gorgeous as you? Honey, I'd sacrifice my grandmother to the dark order without a second thought if I could have a non-existent waistline and a butt like that."

"Get your ass up and do some fucking squats sometime, then."

"What sane person willingly suggests themselves to physical torture, Katsuki? I'll just continue my days being a slim little pretty boy with a flat ass, thanks."

Midnight practically comes kicking the boudoir door in, toeing a bra out of her way as she goes.

"Yuga. Katsuki. You've both been booked for a double dance." She says, so exhausted that she hasn't got any of her usual bite. The two blondes share a look with each other in confusion before they turn back to her.

"That's...never happened before. I didn't even know we did those."

She sighs. "We don't. But they asked for our best so tonight, we do." She counters, finality in her tone that warns them not to be argumentative. Katsuki folds his arms over his chest.

"But we don't have a routine together."

"Improvise."

"...how much they payin'?"

Midnight gives him an odd deadpan stare.

"Eight. Eight each."

Yuga narrows his eyes at her.

"So you want us both...to improvise...for a client who's only paying eight dollars a set? What is this, a brothel?"

"Eight hundred, you brain dead sluts!"

Oh.

Well, that's enough to shut them both right the hell up, eyes wide and jaws snapped shut in shock.

"You're fucking kidding me."

"I'm not. So get your shit together and go. They're in Katsuki's room. They've already paid for the next two hours; give them a good fuckin' time or it's your ass!" And then she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles. Katsuki snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Dramatic bitch."

"Like everyone else in this place." Yuga says under his breath as he stands. "I swear, you're really the only person I enjoy here. Even my husband is starting to make me gag---and not in the way he's supposed to."

"You're married?"

"Sadly. Seven years of absolute treachery and heartbreak. I've forgiven him so many times because by mother is always on about how marriage isn't always easy and he's actually started to change for the better but he's been so horrible to me for so long that I don't even want him anymore. You'd think the least he could do is give me some decent sex, but apparently that's asking for too much."

Katsuki is learning a lot about Yuga today. He's fairly interested in what he's sharing; Yuga's always been a happy picture of perfection to him. It's amazing how easy it is for him to hide how he really feels. How much he hates working there. About his marriage. The fact that the only one he sees as a friend is Katsuki even though he seemed to get along with the other dancers just fine.

"I'd have gotten a divorce the moment I lost those feelings." Katsuki said, following Yuga out into the hall.

"I honestly thought these things were things that we could get past but apparently my forgiveness means that it's alright to keep cheating on me. Don't get me wrong, he's been good for a while now. I just no longer have a desire to be with him. And I've tried to hand him the papers but he refuses to sign so now I have to get a lawyer."

That sounds like a really tough situation. Katsuki couldn't imagine what it would be like. He wonders if his parents have had similar woes.

"You guys have any kids?"

Yuga scoffs. "No, thank God. Imagine how career day would be if I did." He laughs, a sort of faraway look in his eyes. Katsuki guesses that it's a good thing that there aren't any kids involved---especially when it's obvious that this whole divorce thing is going to get fairly ugly, fairly quickly.

"I don't know much about it---never even had a boyfriend before. But if you need to vent or whatever shit, just call me, okay? You know it doesn't matter what time it is, I'll always come runnin' for you." Katsuki says. It's genuine---enough to pull an actual smile from Yuga as the shorter blonde intertwines their fingers together.

"I know, darling. You're always so good to us here. But don't you hesitate to do the same, alright?"

They pause outside of Katsuki's private room and Yuga takes a deep breath.

"What are we even going to do?"

Katsuki shrugs.

"Fuckin' improvise, I guess."

#

Katsuki's calves are on fire and Yuga doesn't look to be in any better shape, practically doubled over and dizzy with exhaustion. These guys want all of the big tricks---and they aren't shy about being hands either. It hasn't helped at all that they're drunk off of their asses---and Katsuki's sure one of them is high on something.

"Hey blondie---the one with the fat tits and juicy ass. I want a lap dance."

Katsuki cringes internally, stepping down from the platform with a tempting sway of his hips. He's got to stay in character. Sixteen hundred for a dance? On top of the tips and other cash he's made from dance that night? He's bound to go home with three thousand tonight if he plays his cards right.

The man is imposing in size, shaggy brown hair unkempt around an equally frightening face---and by frightening, he means that it looks like he wants to eat him.

Katsuki has to mentally prepare himself to sit in the man's lap but just before he does, a large hand halts him in his place.

"Panties off. Leave the shoes on though, those are fuckin' sexy."

One of the others in his group gives a sly chuckle as Katsuki complies---some drunken asshole with greasy ass black hair. Katsuki turns around to make a show out of sliding his already transparent underwear down his thighs and bending over to step out of them.

"You sure like 'em thick, Rappa." The greasy fucker laughs, fumbling the shot glass in his hand as Yuga slips out of his top in front of him. The guy, Rappa, hums appreciatively and reaches out to roughly grip Katsuki by the waist and force him down into his lap. The blonde yelps at the feeling of a hard cock wrapped in denim being sandwiched between his ass cheeks, baring his teeth and glaring back at him.

"Watch it, fucker! And keep your fuckin' hands to yourself!"

Rappa's grip tightened around his waist as a grin broke out over him, grinding up against Katsuki. The blonde reaches back to punch him but the blow barely moves him at all. It's like punching a cement wall. He grabs Katsuki arms in just one of his palms, halting his assault in its tracks.

The lurching, mortifying feeling Katsuki has in his gut when the man licks a broad stripe up the column of his throat is sickening.

"Fiery---I like that." Rappa grunts into his ear. "I usually got no problems beating down bold little brats like you but the only thing I wanna do to you is get you in my bed...or even right here on this couch."

"You're absolutely disgusting; let go of him!" Yuga demands, but is easily manhandled back onto the sofa by another one of those brutes---some big bald fucker.

"Don't handle him too rough, Hojo. You know the more you bruise him up, the less he sells for." Rappa says to him. Katsuki feels his blood run cold.

"W-What?"

Rappa grins at him.

"Not you, cutie. The boss made special orders for you. But this other cunt is gonna run us a pretty penny."

The reality of what he's saying sets in and Katsuki can see the exact moment fear settles into Yuga.

"You're not supposed to tell him the plan, you fucking moron." Some blonde asshole sitting in the corner says as he comes up from...

He's doing coke. He's doing coke right there on the table.

Rappa scoffs. "What difference does it make? That Midnight broad knows what's up---she's known every time. Not to mention she still owes us. The last one snorted coke until she croaked over in the bathroom and we lost a lot of money for that."

Yui...

So then it wasn't just an overdose...

And this wasn't just a strip club.

He should have listened to Izuku when he had the chance.

Katsuki manages to free a hand as Rappa's grip becomes lax, reaching out to grab the half full bottle of liquor on the side table and break it over his head. It stuns him long enough for Katsuki to lunge forward and away from him and catches Hojo by the ankle enough for Yuga to do the same, practically twisting his ankle as Katsuki drags him up from the floor and nearly takes the door off its hinges running away.

A gunshot rings out and a chorus of screams sounds as the entire club goes into a panic.

Katsuki is shoved into the bar and ultimately separated from Yuga, but he can still see his hand reaching out for him. He grabs him---probably more harshly than necessary and pulls him into his chest to grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes. He's going into a full blown panic, tears in his eyes.

"Katsuki---Katsuki, we're gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die, I promise. Listen to me, baby. You see that door?" He points to the exit facing directly to the street and Yuga nods, still bordering on hysterical. "You run and you keep running until you get to that police precinct on fifth and Main, okay?"

"Katsuki---"

"Just go!" Katsuki yells, shoving him towards the door as another gunshot sounds amidst the panic. The moment he sees Yuga slip out---shoes in hand---he's being yanked up from the floor by the back of his neck. Instead of struggling, he reaches down to yank off a stiletto and shove it into Rappa's eye. The large man screams bloody murder and drops him, curling in on himself once more as a bar stool is broken over his back.

"Get your hands off of him!"

It's Awase, the bartender. He's already armed himself up again with a broken bottle, watching as Rappa drops to the floor like lead. He kicks him for good measure---to make sure he's not getting back up again. He makes eye contact with Katsuki and smiles.

"Are you oka---"

Bang!

It happens faster than Katsuki could even register that the loud ringing in his ears was , in fact, a gunshot, blood splattering across his skin as Awase drops dead right at his feet. He lurches, clutching at his gut at the bits of brain and flesh at his feet.

"Get over here, you fuckin' bitch!" That greasy bastard from earlier threatens him with a drunken wave of his firearm, several others from the group he and Yuga had been entertaining resurfacing. Even Rappa begins to pull himself up from the tile.

Katsuki is afraid.

He does all he knows to do---turn tail and duck out of the side door as he just barely dodges a bullet.

#

It's hard to see where he's going with his vision blurred by tears, but Katsuki can clearly make out a dumpster at the end of the alley so he ducks behind it and stifles his sob with a hand clapped firmly over his mouth. He's shaking, praying that Yuga had made it to the police---that he was safe and that Katsuki hadn't just sent him running to his death. He's much too overwhelmed to make much sense of anything that's happened and all that he can think is that he needs Izuku. He has to call Izuku. For fuck's sake, he's literally ass naked and in the freezing rain hiding from someone who presumably wants him dead.

And Midnight...

God, this is so fucked up.

He pauses his thoughts when he hears booted footsteps in the distance, eyes wide as he figures that they must know where he's hiding---or at least they will. They're tipping over garbage cans and boxes, the sound of shattering glass nearly making Katsuki jump right out of his skin. His only options are to keep running and hope he doesn't get shot in the back or to fight---both of which are fucking horrible options.

Is this...is this how I die?

It becomes a very real reality when he hears the footsteps stop just beside the dumpster. He has to make a decision now. Fight or fucking flight, Katsuki?

He takes his chance with the latter.

The moment he lunges forward to take off in a sprint, a callous hand grabs him by the nape and pulls him back and all he can do is literally kick and scream.

"Let me go---fucking let go, you stupid fuck---!"

"Whoa, hey, calm down!"

The moment he hears that voice, his limbs go limp and he breaks down into tears. The hand releases him and he quickly turns to throw himself into his saviour's arms.

"Hitoshi! Fuck, thank God, I---"

"Jesus, Kats, what the fuck happened to you?! Is that blood?! And where the fuck are your clothes?!" The older man fusses, shrugging his coat off of his broad shoulders to wrap around Katsuki's shivering frame. Katsuki tries to form words, but all he can seem to get out is incoherent gibberish in his shell shocked state.

Just then, the alleyway door comes flying completely off of its hinges and Katsuki screams, hiding behind Hitoshi when the purple-haired man urgently pushes him out of sight.

Rappa looks pissed.

"What the hell are you doin', Kid?"

Hitoshi glares back at him.

"What the hell are you morons doing? Are you out of your fucking minds? Not only did you have direct orders not to fuck with the kid, but you're fucking covered in blood as well as he so I'm going to assume it's a complete fucking bloodbath in their." He reprimands them and Katsuki's legs tremble with the sudden urge to run. Hitoshi is talking like they know each other. Like he knew about this.

'I didn't come to be entertained; I was here on business.'

Oh fuck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Katsuki, so stay put if you want to live." Hitoshi says under his breath, almost as if he's read the blonde's mind. Rappa cocks his head to the side, nursing his injured eye with his massive hand.

"We don't take orders from you, Kid. The Shie Hassaikai has its own agenda."

"And so does the League, but a contract is still a fucking contract. Don't fucking test me. If you and your friends want to keep the privilege to breath this stale ass air, you won't fuck with me."

Rappa charges him and Hitoshi sighs, visibly exasperated.

Bang!

He draws on the massive man seemingly within a blink, emptying two more rounds into him to make sure he stays dead. The others back away just a bit---teeth drawn back in a snarl.

"Listen, Katsuki. My car keys are in my coat pocket. You go to the car, you get in and you go to the address written out in the glove box, okay? I'll catch up with you, I promise."

Katsuki shakes his heads, trying his damndest to keep his tears at bay.

"T-Toshi, I-I can't---"

"Yes you can, baby. Don't be scared. I'm coming right behind you, I swear."

So he leaves him to handle it on his own.

Chapter 9: On the Run

Summary:

"You gotta, cause we gotta move. We can't stay here long, baby, they'll find us. We have to leave. I won't hurt you. You know I won't hurt you."

He does know that---or, really, he doesn't know for sure but it doesn't feel like Hitoshi would hurt him. It could just be those mind games that he plays---luring him into a false sense of security but Hitoshi just killed someone for him.

Notes:

Transitional chapter ✨

The sun is rising.

Katsuki can't quite tell how long he's been sitting there, bone cold and soaked from the rain where he's tucked himself away in a corner that's easily blocked from view by living room furniture. He's got no clue of where he is---or more like who's house he's in---but he does know that it's been hours since he and Hitoshi separated.

What if he's dead?

What if those guys know where he is?

He'd call Izuku or...or Shouto---fuck, he'll even call Kaminari but his phone is dead and he's much too afraid to leave his hiding spot and look for an outlet.

Not a moment later does the door swing open, slamming against the wall behind it as muddy boots come into view. Katsuki puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his startled yelp, curling in on himself as some comes walking in. They don't bother taking off their shoes, just shutting the door behind them. Katsuki feels his trembling intensify and he mutely wonders if they could hear him at all.

"Katsuki?"

It's Hitoshi and he sounds like he's about to drop dead right on the living room carpet. The booted feet drag against the floor a bit, pausing just at the coffee table.

"You can come out. It's just me."

Katsuki squeezes his eyes closed with a shake of his head. He doesn't want to see. Doesn't want to have to look at what they did to Hitoshi. The older man is practically wheezing with every breath. There's no way in hell they went easy on him.

"You gotta, cause we gotta move. We can't stay here long, baby, they'll find us. We have to leave. I won't hurt you. You know I won't hurt you."

He does know that---or, really, he doesn't know for sure but it doesn't feel like Hitoshi would hurt him. It could just be those mind games that he plays---luring him into a false sense of security but Hitoshi just killed someone for him.

Hitoshi just nearly died for him.

The entirety of it all is so incredibly overwhelming that he feels his stomach lurching all over again, dry heaving behind blood stained fingers. He swallows it down with a sob.

"Toshi, I-I'm scared---"

"I know, Kats, I know. I'm sorry you got pulled into all of this."

Hitoshi let's out a wet cough and Katsuki sees blood splatter onto the carpet, only confirming the idea that Hitoshi is in seriously rough shape. He's feet drag forward a bit more and Katsuki can hear the sound of Hitoshi's hands slapping against the coffee table as he uses it to steady himself.

"You were never supposed to know or get involved. Midoriya  made sure of that and I was here to fuckin' enforce it but I got too comfortable."

Deku?

"W-What are you saying?! Are you trying to say that Deku is one of them?!"

"Not one of them, no. He's scarier than any of those fucks could ever be. Well, to the average guy, anyway. He doesn't do much for those of us who ain't got a damn thing to lose."

A lighter flickers. Katsuki can make out the distinctive noise of an inhale as the air permeates with cigarette smoke. He's seriously taking a smoke break at a time like this?

A loud crash sounds from outside---car doors slamming and someone yelling orders. Hitoshi curses underneath his breath.

"Katsuki, we have to leave now, baby. I'm not leaving you here so get up or we both die."

The purple-haired doesn't wait this time, just shuffles around the table and pulls Katsuki up from the floor with his good arm.

The other is limp and bruised at his side. One of those fucks got him good. 

He's bleeding from somewhere at the top of his head but it's much too hard to tell exactly where with all of that blood matting his hair down. Not to mention the ugly gash beneath his eye.

"Fucking hell, Hitoshi---"

"I'm okay, Katsuki, okay? Just stay close to me and we're gonna be just fine. You have my keys, baby? Yeah?"

Katsuki tries to steel himself, offering a shaky nod. Hitoshi holds out his hand and Katsuki scrambles to dig through the pockets of the coat still wrapped around his shaking frame. The keys jingle as he slaps them into the older man's palm and Hitoshi takes his free hand to lace his and Katsuki's fingers together.

"Stay behind me. Don't take your eyes off me for even a second. No matter what you hear---no matter what's happening around you---you keep your eyes on me, you hear me?"

Another nod. Katsuki's hand tightens around Hitoshi's.

The tattooed man steadies himself with a deep breath before he begins to navigate them through the apartment. He pauses in one of the bedrooms, very briefly digging through one of the several drawers before finding and throwing a black sweatshirt at Katsuki's head. The blonde doesn't need to to told to put it on---or to do it quickly. He follows suit with the pair of sweats thrown his way soon after. The clothes nearly swallow him but they're dry, warm, and won't get in the way while they're running.

"I don't have any shoes you could fit right now. Can you run without them, Kats?"

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

"Good, good boy. We're gonna go out the back way---through the fire escape. They don't know that I'm here yet so they're coming through the front but some of these dumb bastards are pretty cunning so I'm not taking any chances." He doesn't stop moving as he talks, digging further into the drawer. When he comes back up again, there's a knife in his hand. He takes Katsuki by the wrist and uncurls his fingers, forcing the knife in his palm. Katsuki looks confused---scared even.

"Any of those fuckers gets close enough to grab, fucking stab them. To kill. They don't need mercy and you can't afford it, you understand?"

Katsuki's trembling hand tightens around the knife.

"I understand."

"Stay close."

And he takes his hand again, quickly staggering out to the fire escape and making quick work of the steps. Katsuki is careful not to miss any; he can't afford to be a burden right now by slipping and breaking an ankle or leg. He's grateful that the rain had stopped or it would be much more difficult to navigate.

And his change of wardrobe would have ultimately been for not.

They're within eyeshot of where Hitoshi's car is parked haphazardly on the curb but Hitoshi still has them duck behind a dumpster, peering out and looking both ways to make sure the coast is clear.

The jarring noise of a bullet ricocheting off of the metal trashcan next to them nearly gives Katsuki a heart attack.

Hitoshi curses under his breath and pulls Katsuki in front of him as another comes down. It would seem that those thugs have made it into the apartment and figured out where they were.

"Don't make this difficult, Kid." Someone says to him in a bored tone but the moment Katsuki raises his head to look he's pushed back down again.

"You've got a lot fuckin' nerve, Kai. If you think the old man's gonna let you slide with the shit you and your fuckhead posse tried to pull tonight then you're outta goddamn head!" Hitoshi counters and Katsuki registers that Hitoshi still has a gun when he begins to fire back.

Within that split second, he's shoving Katsuki along and the blonde is so short of breath that he feels he might faint. He barrels into the backseat and Hitoshi is pulling away from the curb before his door even closes, tires screeching all the while.

#

They've been driving for almost an hour now, but Hitoshi can't help but note that Katsuki still hasn't said anything. Its a deafening silence, only interrupted by the light aound of raindrops hitting the windsheild and the wipers taking them off again. His first thought was that the blonde had fallen asleep but he knows better. He's in shock, unsure of how to process having his entire life uprooted in just the blink of an eye.

He adjusts the rear view mirror and sure enough, Katsuki's dull eyed expression is staring back at him.

"...you're not hurt are you?"

An empty shake of his head.

"Are you cold?"

Nothing. Not even a flicker of his eyes. Hitoshi sighs, gripping the steering wheel with the only hand he has that isn't broken.

"I know you're confused, Katsuki, and I'm sorry. I'll answer as many questions as I can but I need you to cooperate with me to keep you safe, alright?"

"...why?"

It's barely even a whisper. Hitoshi raises a brow.

"Why? As in why I need you to work with me to keep you safe?"

"Why are you even helping me at all? Is it for Deku? No...no, you said yourself you wouldn't do him any favors. So then are you gonna take me and s-sell me to the highest bidder? Keep the profit to yourself? Is this some sort of gang mutiny?"

"You're coming it hot, there, kitty and I need you to slow down a sec. You've got this whole thing all wrong---"

"Then tell me, Hitoshi, cause I'm about to lose my shit, here!" Katsuki's voice wavers and his breath catches in his throat as he realizes that he's getting himself worked up all over again. Hitoshi allows him a moment of silence.

"Alright. Okay. I guess I don't need to tell you by now that I'm into some shady business---"

"Yeah, no fuckin' shit! You're a human trafficker; you're a horrible fuckin' person and just looking at you makes me want to vomit! Because we're strippers, it's okay to kidnap and murder us?!"

His breathing is heavy and unsurprisingly enough, his insults do nothing to change Hitoshi's mood. Does nothing to pull a reaction.

"You're right about one thing. I am a horrible fuckin' person. But I'm not into the whole black market body selling trend. I have morals."

"Then what are you doing? What the hell have you been doing this entire time?!"

"Honestly? Moving drugs and contracted jobs."

"Contracted...?"

Hitoshi sighs.

"I get paid to murder people."

Katsuki's eyes bulge out of his head.

"You're a mercenary..."

"Well, when you say it that way you make it sound so much more glamorous than what it is. But I'm not one to move in groups and I don't care much for the 'Happy Tree Friends' back there."

Nothing is making sense...but at the same time, the more Katsuki thinks about it, it all adds up.

"They know you. Said something about a deal---"

"A deal made between the Shie Hassaikai and The League. The deal was that the Hassaikai could move weight on the League's territory and run a couple of tricks using the club as cover. Nothing in the deal was about organ and sex trafficking."

"...and you're...you're in this league?"

"Didn't you just hear me say I don't do groups?"

"Then why are you here?"

"Your boy Midoriya hired me to take out the Hassaikai's head. Shit was harder than I thought it would be since the fucker never shows his face but he came after us today because I specifically have something he wants...which, in this case, is you."

Him?!

Katsuki's never met these people a day in his life! What has he done to someone that they'd want to harm him? Sure, he's said some brash words to a good few people in his life but nothing worthy of this! And what's Izuku got to do with any of this?

"He's about to be even more pissed once I've finished completely fucking up his plans. He'll come find me for sure after that but I plan to have delivered you and the package to The League by then. For your own protection. I don't need---"

"Delivering me to who?! Hitoshi, you can't just abandon me with a bunch of criminals that I don't know!"

"You won't be with strangers. Izuku and Kaminari will be there to make sure you're safe."

Kaminari, too?

"What does Deku have to do with all this? And what package are you talking about?"

Hitoshi doesn't take his eyes off of the road, almost as if Katsuki isn't even talking to him. The blonde is extremely close to punching him in the back of the head by the time he finally decides to answer him.

"I can't disclose to you the details of this specific job. And I don't think I should be the one to tell you about Izuku. I may not be too fond of the guy, but I'll have that much respect for your relationship. I will say this. He loves you more than anything. And everything he's doing is to protect you."

And Katsuki, if nothing else, believes that for sure. He understands now why the freckled man wanted him to steer clear of Hitoshi in the first place.

"So that story about how you and Deku knew each other. Was that even real?"

"Not even close."

Figures.

"I guess protecting me was just a part of your job, huh? Is that why you're saving me?"

And Hitoshi snorts out a cynical laugh at that. The way he actually turns to look at Katsuki---such an incredulous expression on his face---would be comical if not for the extremely grim circumstances.

"You're fucking with me, right? There's no way in hell you honestly believe that any amount of money would be worth me getting jumped and stabbed up by a bunch of drunken crackheads? I don't do white horses and shining armor, kitten, so don't worry that pretty head."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Cause I wanted to. Because...ah, fuck, because I like you, alright? And I don't wanna hear any shit out of you about so just take it and shut up." Hitoshi says, more embarrassed that's he's had to admit it than he is upset about the question. Katsuki is unsure of how to respond to something like that, so he says nothing.

"...where are we going now?"

"Shikoku. But for tonight, we're headed to one of the League's safehouses. Chisaki's a shadow, and he knows that his little goonies won't be able to overpower the league now that I've taken out three of his strongest pillars...temporarily, at least."

"You do your research on these assholes, huh?"

"I'd be dead if I didn't. Every successful hitman knows to read up on their targets." Hitoshi says with a shake of his head. His gaze flickers over to Katsuki as the flaxen teen climbs over the middle console to seat himself in the passenger's seat. He doesn't say anything as he buckles the seat belt over him, not until he notices Hitoshi eyeing him with that odd expression.

"What?"

"Nothin, just...you came to sit up here."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Cause I wanna."

And Hitoshi actually chuckles at that.

"Alright, alright. Fair."

He winces as Katsuki playfully shoves his arm and dancer grimaces as he remembers that Hitoshi is, in fact, injured.

"Shouldn't we get you to a hospital?"

"Nah. They'll patch me up good as new when we get there, don't sweat it. Get you checked out too, just to make sure you're not hurt."

He's not, but he doesn't feel the need to make an argument so he just nods.

Before long, they're slowly making their way through a rock paved driveway.

Katsuki wouldn't have even known it was there if they hadn't turned onto it, covered and well-hidden behind thick brush and tree limbs.

When Hitoshi had said 'safehouse', Katsuki was expected some small, shack-like building or a warehouse like in the movies. But this?

"Who's fuckin' mansion is this?!"

Hitoshi grunts distastefully.

"They call him Stain. He's a real weird fucker, but not a bad guy. We'll be safe here for tonight." He says, nodding to security as he drives past them. He parks the car around back with a tired huff.

"Let's get some rules set out. When we go inside, you speak to no one. You stay by my side at all times and you don't go anywhere in this house alone---not even to take a piss. Clear?"

"Crystal, fucking slave-driver. Not like I had any intentions on wasting my time to talk to criminals anyway."

"Watch it, smartass." Hitoshi warns him as he unbuckles and steps outside. He waits for Katsuki, taking him by the hand as they approach security at the back entrance. They greet him with a nod and allow them inside.

Katsuki can't help but notice how big their guns are. What the hell are they preparing to fight?

"Master Shinsou. Master Stain was expecting you. Your rooming accommodations for the night have been set. Please feel free to use facilities as you please." Some graying man in a tailed tux says to Hitoshi as they walk past him.

"Thanks. Send some grub up in about thirty minutes if you don't mind."

"Of course."

And with that they make their way upstairs.

Chapter 10: A Thousand Words

Summary:

You're lucky they didn't hit any vital organs or arteries or you'd be dead, Hitoshi." His gruff voice says, laced with a discernable amount of annoyance as he finishes sewing up another one of Hitoshi's wounds. The mercenary hums around the cigarette poised between his lips.

"You hear that, Kitty? I made Lady Luck my bit---fucking ow!" He yells when Stain tugs the end of the thick thread just a tad bit harder than he should, glaring up at the pale man.

Notes:

I love Hitoshi

Katsuki flinches as Hitoshi chokes out a grunt of agony, another long shard of glass being pulled out from his pale skin---his shoulder this time, he notes. It makes a disgusting noise as it dislodges and the man who's taken charge of Hitoshi's wounds let's it drop into the tin bowl below them with a grimace. Stain, he said his name was.

He's an odd looking fellow, unkempt dark hair petaled around his head and bulging eyes glaring into Hitoshi's blood-soaked skin. He's been in some sort of accident, a scar covering most of his face and reducing his nose to damn near just a pair of nostrils on his face.

Shady as fuck, but it seems like he knows what he's doing.

"You're lucky they didn't hit any vital organs or arteries or you'd be dead, Hitoshi." His gruff voice says, laced with a discernable amount of annoyance as he finishes sewing up another one of Hitoshi's wounds. The mercenary hums around the cigarette poised between his lips.

"You hear that, Kitty? I made Lady Luck my bit---fucking ow!" He yells when Stain tugs the end of the thick thread just a tad bit harder than he should, glaring up at the pale man.

"I'm serious, you stupid fuck. Take some responsibility for once and quit using your body as a shield. Didn't they teach you how to take cover at that stupid fucking academy? Or are you trying to die and leave me with all of your unfinished business?"

"On any other given day, I'd say yes but I never leave a job unfinished. Especially not the ones with live cargo."

"Fuck you." Katsuki counters monotonously and Hitoshi just shrugs.

"You're making excuses. Dragging the fucking stripper along with you wasn't apart of the job. You're not only jeopardizing their life, but you're drawing it out and complicating it. You're going to get everyone in the league killed."

"I thought you didn't care about the league."

Stain scoffs.

"I don't. Those gross, grimy bastards are the embodiment of everything I hate about society. Even more than I hate cops. Personally, the world would be better if they all just drop dead. But now you've got kids involved."

"You say that like you've never killed children."

Christ, what the fuck kind of monster murders kids?!

Stain narrows his eyes at Hitoshi before they shut and he heaves a sigh that's meant to calm him.

"What? Was I supposed to let the little fuck stab me to death? The kids you brought are innocent and don't even know what the fuck is happening to them, not trained martyrs. And I get that the other one is necessary but why bring this kid?" Stain inquires again, jabbing a thumb in Katsuki's direction. The blonde would like to tell him to fuck off and mind his own, but unfortunately he's not allowed to speak and for the first time in like---ever? He's inclined to listen. He's got no intention of dying tonight.

Hitoshi takes a long drag that finishes off his cigarette.

"They broke protocol and the kid was in danger. They were gonna kill him."

"So?"

"So...fuck, so I saved him."

Stain gives him a long, impassive gaze.

"You're an idiot." He says simply, standing as he puts away all of his medical paraphernalia with a shake of his head. Hitoshi squints at him with a scrutinizing gaze, almost as if he's accidentally let put some horrible secret and wonders if he should let the man continue living. He watches until Stain is no longer in sight, door shutting behind him with a rude thud on the way out.

"Jeez, the hell is his problem?"

"What, you mean all broody and vengeful? He's just like that." Hitoshi says, as if it's any answer at all as he goes to check his wounds in the mirror. Now that all of that blood had been washed away by a steaming shower, he could see just how bad his injuries were.

They fucked him up pretty bad, split lip aside.

He turns back to Katsuki, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"You've eaten. Are you still hungry at all?"

Katsuki shakes his head and Hitoshi insists.

"Are you sure? I need you to have as much strength as you can get. You skip meals a lot during the day. Not at all healthy or acceptable."

"Who the fuck are you to lecture me on health, Mr. Pack-a-Day? I said I'm fine." Katsuki urges, flopping down onto the sinfully comfortable bed to glare at the ceiling. He can hear Hitoshi's footsteps meandering about the room, moving things about and, presumably, locking the door. Something heavy clanks against the nightstand and then the lamp goes off before Katsuki feels the bed dip next to him. His entire body stiffens, not daring to look over at the spot next to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to bed, Katsuki." Hitoshi responds, exasperated. "Please don't tell me you're gonna bitch about sharing the bed. I almost got stabbed in my fucking kidneys for you; least you could do is allow me to sleep comfortably. I don't understand how kissing you is okay but sleeping in the same bed isn't." He says, voice groggy as if he's already been asleep for eight hours. Katsuki's cheeks bloom and he realizes that asking Hitoshi to sleep on the floor would not only be completely childish and rude, but incredibly inconsiderate considering all that Hitoshi has done for him.

"I-I'm not."

"Good."

The silence stretches on and Katsuki closes his eyes, hoping that maybe if he kept them closed for long enough he'd just fall asleep but...

Well, shit. Every time he closes his eyes, he just sees Awase's brains splattered across the tile of the club's floor. It's not something he could forget about so easily, and he knows very well that it will probably haunt his subconscious for the rest of his life.

However long that may be.

He doesn't know what's going to happen to him after this. Doesn't know that he's going to survive or if those bastards will actually find and kill him...or whatever it is they plan to do to him.

And what if he does somehow survive? What happens then? It's not as if they'll just go back to letting him live a normal life. He can't just go back to his apartment, go back to school...

Go back to Somnambul.

He takes a deep breath and exhales, eyes opening to meet complete darkness. His limbs feel heavy and his heart rate picks up---fuck, he's gonna give himself a panic attack.

A hand at his waist startles him.

"Deep breaths in and out. 1...2...3 in. 3...2...1 out. C'mon, you can do it." Hitoshi's voice is soothing compared to what it was just moments ago, talking him down as his thumb rubs against Katsuki's side.

"You're doin' good, babe. Don't worry about anything tonight, alright? I know shits hitting the fan pretty hard right now but I've got you. And if you can't trust anyone else in this, you can trust me."

Katsuki's hands curl and clench against the sheets and he nods, unsure if Hitoshi can even see him as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Good boy. What do you need me to do? I can see if Stain has something to help you sleep but---"

"God, please, no. He's a fucking psychopath." Katsuki breathes out and Hitoshi laughs airily beside him. It's enough to calm him further---enough to draw another deep breath from him. "Yeah, he is. But he's medically trained so...I dunno. I just...don't really know how else to help you sleep. I mean, usually if I can't sleep I just rub one or two out and---"

"Hitoshi."

"What? It's a suggestion. And it's been scientifically proven to work. I'll even leave the room if you need me to."

"I'm not gonna jerk off with you in the next room just for you to come get back into the bed I jerked off in."

"I don't mind helpin'---"

"Hitoshi."

"Alright, alright, fine."

A beat passes and Katsuki turns on his side, thankful that Hitoshi can't see how red in the face he is.

"This---this is gonna sound weird but...would you...can you...put your arms around me? It's just---Shouto does it for me when I have nightmares and..." He asks, hoping he doesn't sound as ridiculously desperate as he feels. 

"...want me to hold you? Yeah, alright."

He sounds so breathless, like he's been running a marathon but his arms do wrap around Katsuki and pull him closer. They shift around a bit to find a comfortable position, which ends with Katsuki laying on top of him with his head on his chest. One of Hitoshi's arms wrap around his back and the other tight around his waist.

His heart runs a mile a minute as Katsuki puts his ear against his chest.

"Jesus, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm---I'm just not used to being affectionate with people."

"If you're uncomfortable you can let go, dipshit."

"Nah, this is nice. Just holding you, I mean. Feels good."

A hand shifts to grope Katsuki's backside playfully and the blonde rolls his eyes.

"Real good." Hitoshi reiterates. Katsuki can feel him smile against his hair.

"You're an idiot."

"Aw, c'mon. That didn't make you wanna smile? Even just a little? Man, I won't ever get over how soft your ass is for it to be so perfect and bouncy."

"You fantasize about my ass a lot?"

"I fantasize about you a lot."

As soon as Hitoshi says it, he tenses---like it was something he hadn't meant to say out loud.

"I mean...yeah. it's kind of hard not to when you look so fuckin' good, you know." He tries to explain himself and Katsuki can audibly hear him swallow.

Hitoshi sighs.

"God, I'm fuckin' soft. Never in my entire life have a ever let a job drag me so deep into shit. And I've done jobs for some real grade A babes, you know. I've put my dick in literal fucking movie stars and never once have I ever been fucking inclined to wanna be with them so what the fuck is wrong with me now? I'm breaking so many fuckin' rules for you right now---"

"Then just leave me behind, Hitoshi."

"Absolutely fuckin' not. I'm just venting, alright? Can I do that?"

Katsuki silences himself and Hitoshi's embrace tightens around him as he sighs, afraid that Katsuki might turn or roll away from him.

"I don't have a plan. I mean, yeah, sure, follow through with the job but then what? I just hand you over to Midoriya and pretend none of this ever happened? Like I never met you? Try to get over you? Guess I could but that's gonna fuckin' suck." He continues.

"...so when I asked you what your end game was. You didn't know for sure, did you?" Katsuki asks, curious. Hitoshi grunts.

"I did. I mean, at first, I was just fuckin' around. Messin' with you because it was funny to see your reactions but somewhere down the line it just felt right and I can't even tell when shit started getting that way. One day I realized I fuckin' wanted you and I knew I was in deep shit. Started to take Midoriya's advice and fuck off but somethin' told me to come to the club that night and...well, shit, here we are."

Katsuki isn't sure of what to do with that information. With the knowledge that Hitoshi really didn't have any ulterior motives. That him gaining any sort of feelings for Katsuki was completely unintentional and that he'd probably take it all back if he could. Katsuki can't say for sure that he doesn't feel the same urge to be with Hitoshi. He's never dwelled on any feelings he's had. Just knew that Hitoshi made him feel good and that he enjoyed the time they spent together. He's actually relieved to know that not all of it was a lie. That the fun they had was real. The conversation they shared was real. The kisses...they were real.

Katsuki squeezes Hitoshi tighter.

"I'm sorry I fucked things up for you." He says, barely a whisper. Hitoshi bristles at that. "You didn't fuck up anything for me, Kit. All of these feelings are my own doing. If anything, Midoriya and I should be apologizing for ruining your life. I know it must suck to just be uprooted like that. If you hate me, I'm cool with that. It may even be better that way."

"Shut up, I don't want to hate you."

"..."

"I just...need to sort this shit out. Which I can...once I fully process what the fuck is happening to me. But I don't want you to---fuck, I don't want you to regret me, okay? Cause...you know. Some of that shit isn't all that one-sided." He admits.

Hitoshi's breath catches in his throat but he doesn't grace Katsuki with another response. They just lay there, Katsuki drawing patterns into Hitoshi's bare chest with his fingertip as he tries to will his blushing cheeks away.

"Hey. Kitten."

"...yeah?"

"Can I...would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Hot. His skin is on fire, head raising as he props himself up to look at Hitoshi. He can't see him in the dark of the room but he knows he's there, staring at him.

Not a moment later the bedside lamp flickers on and Hitoshi is a lot closer than Katsuki had gauged, breath ghosting against his lips as he huffs out a gasp.

A scarred hand rests against Katsuki's cheek as he leans forward to press there lips together.

It's short and sweet, Hitoshi pulling away just enough for him to look Katsuki in the eyes. The blonde boy feels lightheaded, skin flushed as Hitoshi catches his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Your breath smells like cigarettes." Is all he can think to say.

But it doesn't stop him from kissing Hitoshi again.

Chapter 11: Baby

Summary:

"Fuck---yes, Hitoshi. I'm saying...I'm saying that last night meant something to me so we don't have to just be...whatever we were before. I don't have to just be...live cargo." He says, hating the way the phrase tastes on his tongue.

"...then what do you want to be?"

Katsuki expects to wake up the next morning tangled in Hitoshi's arms, but instead he's greeted by the butler. It startles him---especially since he's ass naked and barely covered as the man takes it upon himself to invade his personal space.

"The fuck are you doing?" He hisses, pulling the sheets up over his nude form. The man hardly bats an eye at him, standing dutifully with a robe draped across his arm.

"Master Shinsou asked that I retrieve you and have you meet him in the dining area. Apologies for the intrusion." He says with a slight bow, handing Katsuki the robe and promptly making an exit. Katsuki huffs in irritation and turns over to look at the clock on the bedside table.

10:45 AM.

He reaches over for his phone and taps the home button, groaning when he realizes that he's forgotten to put it on the charger so it's still just as dead as a doorknob. Several questions about what's going on back home in Musutafu start rattling off in his anxious little brain but he stops himself short with a shake of his head.

Calm, Katsuki. Just stay calm.

It's a mantra he knows he'll have to repeat to himself more often than not with all that's happened. He takes the robe and slips it over his body, tying it shut and rubbing at his sore neck as he makes his wait out of the bedroom.

He looks down both ends of the corridor, relieved to see the butler standing on the opposite end. The last thing he wants is to get lost in this place full of dangerous strangers and criminals.

He follows the butler's lead, sure to stay at least eight feet behind him. He can never be too cautious.

#

"Master Shinsou. Your guest."

Hitoshi looks up from the large oak table where there are several gun parts laid about. He's shirtless still, covered in stitches and bandages. "Katsuki. Sorry I didn't wake you earlier, wanted you to get a bit more rest. How are you feeling?" He asks and Katsuki can only offer him a shrug. "Not a lot different than I did yesterday. Naked, paranoid and a little scared." He admits and Hitoshi hums, motioning for Katsuki to come and have a seat in his lap.

It's almost mechanical, the way he sits right down onto his left leg and allows Hitoshi's arm to curl around his slim waist---hand gripping his thigh. How many times has it been like this now? It had to have been quite a lot, the way Katsuki's nerves quell themselves every single time. He feels safe there, he's come to realize. Safe inside Hitoshi's arms. Except this time, Hitoshi presses a kiss against Katsuki's jaw.

The blonde blooms bright red but he doesn't object, unable to resist the urge to hide his face in his hands. Their newfound intimacy is still something he's got to get used to, but he doesn't hate it. He thinks, maybe, he likes it a bit too much.

"Sorry. I should have asked if that was alright---"

"N-No, it's fine, I just...you make my heart all jumpy and shit. I...like being with you. Or whatever." Katsuki admits, grabbing Hitoshi's hand as it moves to leave his thigh and placing it there again. He won't look Hitoshi in the eyes---can't or he's afraid he might melt---but he hears him hum and feels him squeeze his thigh again.

"Okay, baby. Is that okay, too? For me to...call you baby?"

"Fuck---yes, Hitoshi. I'm saying...I'm saying that last night meant something to me so we don't have to just be...whatever we were before. I don't have to just be...live cargo." He says, hating the way the phrase tastes on his tongue.

"...then what do you want to be?"

Katsuki laces his fingers with Hitoshi's, cheeks ruddy as he keeps his eyes trained on the guns spread about the table.

"You said it already. I'm your baby." He says, feeling fucking shy for the first time in his entire fucking life.

Hitoshi's fingers tighten around his.

"Yeah. Yeah, you are." He says, breathless as he presses another kiss up to Katsuki's jaw. Katsuki smiles so hard that his cheeks hurt.

His first ever boyfriend and it only happened because he basically got kidnapped. Is there some sort of irony to this that he's missing?

"What are you doing?" He asks, trying to quell at least a bit of his nerves. Hitoshi takes his free hand and continues moving the parts around. "I was cleaning them. Gotta put 'em back together and reload 'em. Then I'm gonna get some food in you before we head to Kyoto. It's a five hour drive so we're gonna need to stop and stock up on some things." He explains. Katsuki's brows knit in confusion.

"Kyoto? I thought we were going to Shikoku?"

"Change of plans, baby. The target has been moved. They don't think I know. But...we're gonna stop in Nagoya before we get there."

"Why?"

"Well, not only is there information that I need there, but I'm going to drop you somewhere safe and---"

"What?! No, you can't just dump me---"

"Katsuki, this isn't a discussion. I want you safe and out of danger while I'm handling this mission, okay? Things are going to be dangerous and I'll be damned if I lose you to some half-pint thugs. I'll come back for you once I have the target and I'll take you to Izuku, okay?"

Katsuki isn't sure why, but he doesn't like the sound of any of this. He knows that Hitoshi is making sense---that he's being fucking reasonable---but he hates the idea of being left behind. And when he takes him to Izuku, then what? Are they done? Is this supposed to just be a fling?

Hitoshi seems to sense his distress. He heaves a heavy sigh, setting the gun pieces down and using his free hand to gently grip Katsuki's chin and coax him into making eye contact.

"Kitten. I know you don't wanna do that but you know I'm not tryna ditch you, right? That I just wanna protect you?" He tries to reason with him---hates seeing that dejected look on his face, but the only reason he was even doing this anymore was for Katsuki's sake.

And...well, to finish his contract.

Reluctantly, Katsuki nods.

"I know. Sorry, I don't wanna be a fuckin' pain in the ass. I just...don't wanna leave you." He says.

A smile curls at Hitoshi's lips.

"I know, baby."

He catches Katsuki's lips in a kiss, pleased to see that the blonde is, if even slightly, more at ease.

"We good?"

"Mhm."

"G'boy. Wanna help daddy clean his guns?"

Katsuki sputters out a laugh, almost slapping Hitoshi against the chest until he remembers that he's hurt.

"I'm not calling you daddy."

"It was worth a try."

"Just shut up and show me how to do it, moron."

Hitoshi chuckles with a shake of his head.

"Alright, let's start with that piece there."

Chapter 12: Way Back Home

Summary:

"You're with Hitoshi?" Shouto breathes out. Katsuki can already tell that the gears in his head are already turning to this of the worse case scenario. "I am, but he's keeping me safe so you don't have to worry, babe---"

"Are you being kidnapped?! Where are you, I'll call the police."

"Where the fuck are you?!"

Even though Katsuki's being screamed and cursed at, it feels good to hear the voices of his friends. He'd finally managed to get a decent charge on his phone via his car charger that Hitoshi had bought for him at a truck stop passing through Yokohama. He'd been bombarded by near hundreds of texts and voicemails, one in particularly that Yuga had been with Shouto since the night of the incident to help him look for Katsuki since he'd just vanished without a trace.

Upon calling them back, Katsuki could say he felt a weight lift from his chest. He hadn't known for sure what had happened to Yuga that night or if he'd even made it out alive but knowing that he's safe---that he's okay---fills him with a happiness he didn't think he'd ever get back.

"I'm sorry, I can't explain where I am right now but just know that I'm safe, okay? I'm gonna be fine. I'm in one piece, I'm not hurt at all and I'm being protected." He assures Shouto and Yuga both. They're crying---shit fucking breaks Katsuki's heart but if he tells them, who knows what kind of danger he'd be putting them in? He's unsure of whether or not Shouto is aware that Denki is somehow involved with this mess, so he should probably keep as much to himself as possible.

He changes the subject.

"Is everyone okay? The girls at the club?"

There's a long, lingering pause and Yuga let's out a sob.

"Camie and Nejire are missing. The cops think they were taken before they got there. There were signs of a struggle in their private rooms. Awase is dead. Shibara is dead."

Katsuki's breath catches in his throat.

"A-And Midnight?"

"... Midnight is dead."

Katsuki wants to laugh cynically and say that it's exactly what the fuck she deserves but the implications of what it means snatches the bitter comment away from him.

"Kats? C'mon, babe, gotta get on the road." Hitoshi startles Katsuki out of his dread, coffee in one hand and a plastic bag full of food in the other. Katsuki hadn't even heard him approach the car; hadn't seen him exit the gas station so he nearly drops his phone in the process of it fumbling about in his hands.

"Christ, Toshi, make a little more noise next time, would you?!"

"I called you twice before I even made it to the car; don't be dramatic. Chop, chop, baby, we've got a schedule to maintain." He reiterates, holding Katsuki's door open for him. Katsuki sighs, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Sorry, guys, I gotta---"

"You're with Hitoshi?" Shouto breathes out. Katsuki can already tell that the gears in his head are already turning to this of the worse case scenario. "I am, but he's keeping me safe so you don't have to worry, babe---"

"Are you being kidnapped?! Where are you, I'll call the police."

"Sweetheart, no, I'm not being kidnapped. Shouto, I need you to trust me. Hitoshi is keeping me safe right now. I won't be gone forever, baby, I promise. But Hitoshi isn't going to hurt me." He assures him and he hears a shaky breath on the other end.

"Hitoshi...is that young man who's been coming to book you every night." Yuga pieces together and Katsuki can already see where this is going.

"Yuga---"

"I'm just saying that it's really goddamn shady that he'd show up out of nowhere for months at a time right before this shit happened, Katsuki." His usually soft tone has been replaced by something else entirely and Katsuki hardly recognizes who he's talking to.

"Honey, we've already talked that out." He tries to placate him but there's a disbelieving laugh coming at him from the other end.

"Katsuki. Come home right this instant."

"I already told you that I can't, sweetie."

"Then you have to at least text or call or something to let us know you're okay, alright? I'm not messing around, Katsuki, I swear to God---"

"Yuga, Shouto. I'll keep in touch and I'll be home soon, I promise. You trust me?"

There's a pause, a series of sniffles coming from the other end.

" Y-Yeah ."

"Of course, d-darling."

Katsuki feels himself tearing up and realizes that he has to get off of the phone before he goes into a full blown meltdown.

"G-Good. I love you, okay? I gotta go, I promise I'll call again soon."

" O-Okay ..."

"You fuckin' better."

The line goes dead and Katsuki relaxes against the car, a long sigh coming from him as his breath catches on a sob and he quickly smacks himself against his cheek to regain some of his composure, but it doesn't work.

"Baby."

Katsuki looks up at Hitoshi, the older man having put there coffee and snack up onto the top roof of the car. He there's a guiltt look plastered onto his face and even a little bit of sympathy.

"C'mere, lemme hold you."

"N-No---"

"It's okay to cry, Katsuki. No one's here to judge you, baby boy, I promise. You can cry. Come here." And this time he extends both arms and Katsuki falls into him, tears soaking into the fabric of Hitoshi's shirt as he clings to him. Hitoshi wraps his arms around him tight, rough hands rubbing up and down Katsuki's shaking arms to comfort him.

"That's my good boy, baby, good boy. You cry as much as you need to, you hear me? I'll be right here for you when you need me."

What he really wants to say is, I know that this is all my fault and I feel like shit about it but he doesn't want to risk upsetting him further and holding him---reassuring him---seems to help him more than talking about it.

Hitoshi fully intends to bring Katsuki back home again, just as soon as he makes sure none of these fucks would ever try to hurt him again.

"Everything is gonna be alright, Kitten. You trust me?"

A nod. Hitoshi presses a kiss to his head.

"That's my boy. We good?"

Katsuki looks up, wiping the tears from his face with another nod. Hitoshi cups his cheeks with his hands and looks him in the eyes.

"For real. Are you good, Katsuki?"

"Y-Yeah, 'm good, babe..."

"Lemme see that smile then." Hitoshi prompts, brows wiggling into Katsuki eventually breaks out into a giggle. Hitoshi smiles down at him.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Gimme some love."

Katsuki stands on his toes to meet Hitoshi halfway for a kiss and the older man pulls away with a loud smack that makes Katsuki smile.

"You ready to ride, cutie?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. Let's get outta here."

The air is much lighter upon them getting into the car and Hitoshi actually considers letting the top down. Katsuki buckles his seatbelt and turns to Hitoshi with a smile.

"Alright, babe. Where to next?"

Chapter 13: Kyoto

Summary:

"You okay, darlin'?"

Katsuki offers Hitoshi a shaky nod, squeezing his hand ever so slightly in an attempt to quell his overworked nerves. He's well aware that Hitoshi is into some shady business but he's never been in a place this seedy before.

"You okay, darlin'?"

Katsuki offers Hitoshi a shaky nod, squeezing his hand ever so slightly in an attempt to quell his overworked nerves. He's well aware that Hitoshi is into some shady business but he's never been in a place this seedy before.

It's a little hole in the wall joint that seems to be at full capacity, but not overcrowded. The lighting is fairly dim, probably for multiple reasons that Katsuki didn't care to hear but we're undoubtedly linked to covering their identities should they be compromised. Katsuki's no expert by far, but these don't look like the kind of people to be fucked with.

One of those fuckers has a fuckin' knife for a hand, for fuck's sake.

Oddly enough, Hitoshi fits right in.

There are scantily clad women serving drinks and entertaining as well as they can when their audience is so grabby. Katsuki can barely hear the sound of his own heels clicking against the floor over their obviously forced and obnoxious giggling.

Poor girls. He hopes they're at least getting paid well.

"Eyes on me, sweet thing. You look these assholes in the eye for too long and they'll be on you before you can blink. I'm hoping to leave here tonight without any blood on my hands." Hitoshi urges, breaking the blonde out of his thoughts and snapping his gaze back ahead of him as he leans closer to Hitoshi when the older man's tattooed arm goes to loop around his waist. They make a beeline for the bar and Hitoshi politely helps Katsuki onto one of the high stools. He seems to notice how tense Katsuki is.

"Relax, baby doll, I didn't mean to scare ya. Nobody's gonna fuck with you with me around. Just stay by my side and take it easy, yeah?" He assures him, snapping his fingers to get the barkeeper's attention and nodding him over once the beefy man makes eye contact with him.

"Coke and rum---and make sure it's more rum than coke, yeah? Somethin' sweet for my baby here."

The man hums in affirmation, pausing to eye Katsuki a moment.

"How's a Shirley Temple, sweetheart?"

Katsuki opens his mouth to speak but instead stumbles over his words with a slight stutter.

"Shirley Temple's fine." Hitoshi replies for him and the man gets to work on them, returning a moment later with their drinks and a curious look about him. "Little shy to be around these parts." He says, though it's more a question. Hitoshi shrugs. "He's green."

The man grunts. "Call boy?"

Hitoshi bristles and shoots the man a warning glance. "I said he's mine." He reiterates and the man raises his hands in surrender with a fond chuckle. "Relax, son. Just curious is all, I'm not here to piss on your parade. Got a daughter his age. Pretty blonde thing, like him. I get a little worried when they bring em in this young, y'know? Keep the little ones safe." He says, wiping the counters down as he speaks. Hitoshi just eyed him a moment, glass poised at his lips but he doesn't drink from it.

A criminal with morals, huh?

"What's your name, old timer?" The mercenary asks, setting his glass down on the bar. The old man looks up with a smile. "Kugo. Kugo Sakamata. But they call me Orca." He introduces himself kindly, eyeing Hitoshi a little while longer. "I get a feelin' I know who you are. No introductory needed on your part."

"...You know who I am?" Hitoshi repeats skeptically, as if to call bullshit on the massive man. Orca chuckles at them. "I do. Your old man and I were acquaintances once. Good man. Not someone you wanted to piss off."

This catches Hitoshi's attention.

"You know my dad. You've seen him around lately?"

"Doubt anyone has. But word is that he's up in Nagoya these days.  I get the feeling you and your old man don't keep up much?"

Hitoshi rolls his eyes. "What gave you that impression?"

"That's too bad. He never stopped talkin' about his boy. Mostly that you were infuriatingly so much like him...but that he was proud of the kind of man you'd become."

Hitoshi can't help but crack a smile at that. "Proud that I kill people for money?"

"Moreso that you're a man with his own thoughts and convictions. You're capable and clever. A better fighter than he was. But you've carried a lot of his mannerisms. And that attitude. And also...those eye bags. Why is it that neither of you seem to know what proper sleep is?" Orca shakes his head like a disappointed father.

Hitoshi knows now without a doubt that this man definitely knows his father.

"You know the sayin'. Like father, like son."

Orca grunts at that and the conversation goes dead as he walks away. Hitoshi sighs and downs his drink in one go. Katsuki awkwardly shifts on the stool, catching Hitoshi's attention again. He reaches out to grip the blonde's thigh reassuringly, rubbing circles into the skin with his thumb.

"Sorry."

"No, it's fine, just---did we come here to find your dad?"

Hitoshi hums his affirmation. "Yeah. But it doesn't look like we're gonna find him around here. Still, wouldn't hurt to relax a little. Finish your drink, I'll order you somethin' to eat, alright?" He says and Katsuki doesn't argue. Hitoshi seems to need a few drinks and to let loose. This has been just as stressful on him as it has been for Katsuki---if not moreso. They're technically fugitives, after all. It's not like they can just walk into any bar.

Hitoshi's glass is refilled without him asking as Orca returns and sets a key down onto the counter. Hitoshi eyes it curiously but takes his drink in hand again.

"What's that?"

"Key to your father's locked box. Said if you'd ever come looking for him to hand it to you. You're always welcome here if you and your boy there need a place to lay low or just refuel. No one's gonna bother you here."

"Not if they wanna live."

"You really are Shota's son."

And with that, Orca is gone again.

Hitoshi eyes the key for a moment, tapping it against the counter before he stands upright.

"You wanna take that to go, baby? I'll get you somethin' to eat on the way to where we're stayin' tonight but there's somethin' I gotta check."

Katsuki takes his hand so that he can help him down from his stool. "Don't worry about the drink. Let's just get outta here. Besides, one of us has to be sober."

"I'm plenty sober, kitty cat, you don't worry your pretty head about that." He chuckles, arm around Katsuki's waist as he leads him towards the exit. One of the men wolf whistles and reaches out to grope at Katsuki's thigh but Hitoshi quickly draws his knife.

And stabs him right through his forearm.

It happens to fast that Katsuki can barely register what's happening, watching with eyes wide open as Hitoshi casually yanks his knife free and pockets it again, leaving the stranger to wail in agony and nurse his injured arm.

Orca simply laughs.

"No wonder you annoy each other to death. That boy is just like you, Shota."

#

When Katsuki exits the shower, Hitoshi is sitting at the edge of the motel bed with a cigarette pressed between his lips and a metal box at his feet. He's eyeing the key in his palm, but Katsuki can't quite tell what he's thinking. That's always been one of the most intimidating things about him. Unable to read him. And he's not always honest about his feelings when asked but it's the least Katsuki can do.

He crawls onto the bed behind him, still towel clad as he drapes himself over Hitoshi's back and presses a kiss against his shoulder.

"You good?"

"Mm. Yeah, Kit, I'm fine. Don't you start your worryin', alright?" He replies, reaching back with his free hand to caress Katsuki's cheek with a smile as the blonde begins to sway them ever slightly.

"What do you think is in the box?"

Hitoshi snorts. "Knowing my father? Guns. Maybe coffee. He likes the good shit." He says, though Katsuki gets the feeling that he's not joking. Hitoshi pats his thigh and Katsuki moves to let him lean forward and unlock it.

Sure enough, there are guns. Several of them, in fact. Boxes of ammo. Is that instant coffee? They consider that the good shit? Amazing how cultivated Hitoshi is in terms of alcohol compared to coffee.

There's a note as well. There's an address on it.

Hitoshi rifles through his findings and takes a particularly long look at the note, examining it between his fingers.

When you're ready, come find me.

Hitoshi finishes off his cigarette and tosses the note back into the box, flicking the filter somewhere onto the floor and leaning back onto the bed with a sigh.

"I'm sorry this is all taking so long. If you can just bear with me a little longer, I'll have you safe and sound and you'll be home in no time." Hitoshi assures Katsuki. The blonde folds his arms over his chest and avoids his gaze.

"...that means without you, right?"

"...Baby. We talked about this, didn't we? About what was best for you?"

"What if I don't wanna leave you?"

"Katsuki---"

"I can help! I can help you, just---don't throw me away. Please."

There's a long, drawn out silence among them, save for the chirping of crickets outside. After a while, Hitoshi sits up again and turns to hold Katsuki's face in his palms as delicately as he can to have him face him directly and look him in the eyes.

"Hey. Look at me." He tries when Katsuki tries to shrug him off. The blonde relents at the sound of his voice. He seems scared. Hurt, even.

"I'm not throwin' you away. I'd never throw you away. I just...don't want you to lost your life because of me. It's bad enough that things have gone this far but if something so horrible happens that you change completely---that you become some empty shell...well, shit, honey, I can't take that." He says gently, leaning in to rest his forehead against Katsuki's.

"I just want you safe. I'll come back to you. I promise you that. Maybe one day we can live a normal life. I'll give up the gun and we can have us a little house in the country with a picket fence. Maybe a dog. Cute little brat runnin' around."

"Why does it sound like you're proposing to me?"

"Someday. Maybe after we get you that degree, yeah?" He bargains and Katsuki can hardly sort out the barrage of emotions that he feels. Three months and he's already talking about a future with him. A future where they're together. A future where they're both happy.

"You don't think we're takin' this a little fast?" He breathes out and Hitoshi pulls away just a bit as if to assess Katsuki with a curious tilt of his head.

"Nah. If I learned anything from this job is that time is a hell of a bitch. You could spend ten years with someone and be miserable. Spend ten years feeling nothing at all. Or you could be with someone for five months and they've made you the happiest you could ever be. Quality before quantity. Don't measure your love or loyalty by how long you've known someone." His gaze flickers to Katsuki's lips and then back up to his eyes again.

"Do you?" He adds.

Katsuki chuckles a little, body shaking.

"I dunno." He replies honestly. "I just know that nothin' feels right unless I'm with you."

Hitoshi captures Katsuki's lips with his own---deep and passionate. He only pulls away to allow Katsuki a moment to breathe before he's crowding him, teeth and lips and tongue at his neck as his hands grip and massage at Katsuki's hips.

He manages to slowly maneuver Katsuki until he's laying on his back, hand running up his thigh and underneath the towel before he pulls it open and leans back to admire him.

"God damn, baby..." He says in a near breathless way that makes Katsuki burn at the mere tone of his voice. He feels shy---and being naked has never made him coy before.

"You've seen me naked before."

"Seen the moon and stars a thousand times, too. Don't mean I'm ever gonna stop thinkin' they're fucking gorgeous." Hitoshi counters, biting into his lip and palming himself.

It's not meant to be teasing in nature, but it sure as hell does an good job at it.

"S-So you gonna do somethin' about it or are you gonna just stare?"

And Hitoshi does contemplate it---covers Katsuki's body with his own as he leans down to kiss home again---but he does little more than that.

"Not tonight, baby. Don't gimme that look---c'mon. I'm not gonna make our first time on some filthy motel mattress, okay?"

"So he's a romantic, now. Got it."

"Are you sassin' me?"

"Just as sure as I'm a fuckin' stripper." Katsuki combats, rolling over onto his side only to be flipped around again with a yelp. Hitoshi leans down until their noses are almost touching, eyes narrowed as he looks into Katsuki's own.

"Don't get pissy with me, little boy." He warns, taking Katsuki's chin in his hand. "I can't admire how gorgeous my baby is without fuckin' him? Hm? I mean, sweetheart, I definitely wanna put it in you if that's what you're worried about. I just think you deserve better than...well, fuck, than this."

And Katsuki suddenly feels guilty about being dramatic about it.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't apologize. You're right to wanna be touched, you know. I mean, so much adrenaline and shit all built up---feels good to let it out sometimes."

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

"Or, and here's a crazy idea, maybe I just wanted to have sex with my boyfriend."

He puts a title on it without realizing but when Hitoshi breaks out into a full blown grin and it makes Katsuki's heart skip a beat, he realizes that he'd do anything to see that smile every day.

"Boyfriend?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Hitoshi's grin spreads and he lays down to pull Katsuki against his chest and kiss at his neck. Katsuki giggles at how it tickles, legs swinging over Hitoshi's waist to pull him flush against him. It's an intimate sort of thing, lying their skin to skin just to feel each other's hearts race. Hitoshi laces their fingers together, the other hand curling around Katsuki's side to hold him.

"Don't worry, darlin'. It won't be like this forever. Can you wait just a little while longer for me? Then I promise I'll appreciate that beautiful body in full."

Katsuki smiles. It's so ironic for Hitoshi to treat him so innocently.

"I'm not rushing it."

"You're a sweetheart."

Katsuki shrugs and Hitoshi raises  their conjoined hands to press a kiss against Katsuki's knuckles.

"We're heading to Nagoya tomorrow."

"Going to see your dad?"

"Mm. We were headed there already to get some much needed information but at this point it would be a waste to not see the old bastard."

"Should I be nervous?"

"Bout what? My old man? Nah, he hates everybody."

That's...not even a little bit comforting.

Hitoshi sighs, seemingly sensing Katsuki's discomfort.

"C'mere. Lemme hold you some more." He says as he moves them until Katsuki is laying on top of him. He sleeps better that way, Hitoshi had learned.

He falls asleep to the sounds of Hitoshi humming in his ear, callous fingers massaging at his scalp and playing in his hair.

It's odd, Katsuki thinks. Doesn't matter where they are. As long as Hitoshi is there, it feels like he belongs. 

Chapter 14: Ordinary

Summary:

"Enjoying the show, baby?"

Katsuki hums, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he keeps that lovestruck look in his eyes. "I might be. Do a little spin for me."

Notes:

Gettin' smutty in here. A chapter about how smitten these two dorks are✨

Katsuki could watch Hitoshi tinker with that car all day, watching his muscles bulge under every turn of a wrench and the sweat drip down those abs. The fact that he's covered in motor oil and grease does very little to take away from his attractiveness and the ponytail is doing sinful things to Katsuki's hypnotized little brain. It's almost enough to distract him from the heat.

Almost.

"Fuckin' piece of shit car; the American made shit is always more flashy than functional." He can hear the older man curse to himself, leaning back to slam the hood down with a sigh. He raises an arm to wipe the sweat from his brow, tossing the wrench up into the air and catching effortlessly in the opposite hand as he turns to see Katsuki watching him from a lawn chair on their room deck. He flashes the blonde a grin, pocketing the wrench to make slow strides in Katsuki's direction.

"Enjoying the show, baby?"

Katsuki hums, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he keeps that lovestruck look in his eyes. "I might be. Do a little spin for me."

Hitoshi obliges and Katsuki takes the opportunity to give him a playful clap to his jean clad backside, drinking in the sound of Hitoshi's laugh as he gropes him. Katsuki sinks his teeth into his lip when Hitoshi turns on him again, hovering over him and caging him in with those blessed arms by resting his hands on either side of Katsuki's chair.

"Nice ass."

"Please, there's not an ass on this planet nearly as beautiful as yours." Hitoshi counters, almost close enough for their lips to touch but he pulls away just as Katsuki leans in for a kiss.

"I'm sweaty, baby, I need a shower. Good news is that I fixed that leak so once I get cleaned up, we can go get some food in you and get on the road. Daddy wants some shiny new guns before we get to Nagoya. Wanna get my baby somethin' nice too, we'll go shopping. Take a break." He says as he goes into the room, knowing Katsuki will follow. He closes the door behind them.

"Are you sure? I thought we were on a deadline. And I'm not certain but I'm sure those guys that almost killed you are still trying to kill you...and kidnap me."

"Very true. But those dumbasses haven't the slightest clue of where we are right now. Probably checking several different safe houses there in Tokyo. They'll find my weapons and most likely take them so I'll need to re-up anyways.

And, uh, since we didn't exactly do this whole boyfriend thing under the best circumstances...I never got to take you out. Just want you to enjoy yourself. I don't want every thought and memory you have of me to be about guns and drugs and...you know. Me murdering people."

"You've been murdering people while we were together?"

Hitoshi pauses, mouth agape as he goes to respond only to scratch his head and hiss through clenched teeth.

"Well, that's neither here nor there. My point is---"

"That's actually both here and there, Hitoshi. Have you been out doing jobs while I'm sleeping?!"

"No, no, I wouldn't do that."

A pause.

Katsuki folds his arms over his chest, catlike eyes cutting through Hitoshi with a sharp and narrow gaze of skepticism.

He caves.

"Okay, so I might have---"

"Toshi---seriously? I told you I don't wanna be left behind, why would you do that?!"

"I just didn't want you to worry or be scared, babe, it's fine. Besides, I don't like the idea of bringing you on jobs and watching me do my dirty work, okay? That's now who you are, Katsuki, and I'm not gonna make it who you are---you're gonna stay my cute and innocent little kitten even if it kills me."

Katsuki turns his nose up at him in a pout. "I'm not innocent, I've done things, too!"

"Pushing the playground bully off of the swings in grade school isn't exactly the same as shooting rich bastards in the face for money, sweetheart."

"I---I stabbed one of those guys in the eye that night at the club!"

"Did he die?"

"W-Well, no---"

"Did you get paid?"

"What? No!"

Hitoshi crowds Katsuki's space, grabbing his face in both palms and looking down into his eyes.

"Then it's not the same." He reiterates. "I know you wanna help me. I know you don't like being separated. But some things, I just have to do on my own. But I wouldn't ever put you in a position to question your safety. Daddy needs you to trust him, okay? I've got you."

Katsuki huffs in mild annoyance but relents with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm not calling you daddy."

"Yeah, that's what you think. Then one day, when I'm balls deep in those guts of yours, you're gonna be screaming it at the top of those lungs and wishin' I could get you pregnant."

Katsuki nearly chokes on his own spit with a cackling laugh, swatting Hitoshi on the arm.

"What is wrong with you? Cocky bastard, you think you're honestly gonna dick me that good? You're so full of shit."

"You're gonna be full dick one of these days, you keep teasin' me. Don't think you're slick; I see what you've been doin'. Wearing those little ass shorts and tight ass tank tops when we're out---wearing that cute ass lacy underwear to sleep and pushing your ass up on me when I'm holding you."

Katsuki blooms red, mouth agape with a half guilty expression tacked onto his face as Hitoshi points an accusing finger at him as he turns to take off his boots and get undressed. Watching him slide out of his pants is a bit distracting for Katsuki.

"I dunno what you're talkin' about."

Hitoshi scoffs.

"Sure you don't, darlin'." He stands to stretch his limbs over his head, completely nude when he turns to face his boyfriend again. He beckons for him to follow him into the bathroom and Katsuki mindlessly follows, flirtatiously biting his thumb as he watches Hitoshi through the fringe of his lashes.

Katsuki can't seem to be bothered by the greasy hands that lift him up onto the sink counter and smudge against his skin. They tug at his thin clothing until they're off, tossed haphazardly across the room and uncaring where they land. Hitoshi leans forward to presses sweet kisses into the supple skin of Katsuki's chest and up his neck, purposely avoiding the sensitive pierced nubs.

"I wanna spoil you, precious little thing. You'll be a good boy for me today and let me? Hm?" He tells him between kisses, more of a heads up than an actual question. Katsuki's learned by now that when Hitoshi has his mind made up on something, any question he may ask is rhetorical.

"Mmmmkay, yeah~"

"G'boy, baby. Now, I'm gonna get get all this gunk and grime off--- get nice and clean---and then I'm gonna take care of you. Get you nice and relaxed, dress you. We'll get whatever you want for breakfast. Buy whatever you want from the shops. Does that sound good, honey?"

"M-Mhm~"

"Good kitty." He purrs, turning the shower on before he lifts Katsuki's petite frame off of the counter. The warm spray feels nice on Katsuki's skin compared to the chilliness of the motel room. Hitoshi puts him on his feet but still holds him close, allowing Katsuki to lay his head on his shoulder.

"How fuckin' lucky do I have to be to snag a babe like you, hm?"

"Kidnap them, apparently." Katsuki chuckles and Hitoshi bristles at him. "Shut up, I didn't kidnap you. Lean your head back for me, kit."

Katsuki obediently allows Hitoshi to wash him---and his hair---before tending to himself, left to bite and suck and nibbling hickies and bruises into Katsuki's otherwise flawless skin. He seems rather infatuated with the sensitive spot beneath Katsuki's jaw, hands groping at his bare backside to keep him held close every time he tries to wiggle away.

"Toshi, c-cut it out."

"Mm? 'm sorry, baby, did I bite too hard? 'm I hurting you?"

He does quit his love bites, but his hands stay firm on Katsuki's rear.

"Mmmph! N-No, it actually feels really g-good." He admits, hard and dripping cock grinding against Hitoshi's thigh. This seems to catch the older man's attention and he pulls away just slightly enough to look down between them with a curious hum. "Oh? You like when I kiss you there? Looks like your pretty tits aren't the only thing sensitive enough to get you off, huh baby?" He coos and croons, nosing at the bruises on the column of Katsuki's throat.

"You wanna cum for me?"

The question catches Katsuki completely by the ankle, stuttering hips accompanied by a loud gasps as Hitoshi bites down harshly on the same spot, suckling against it when Katsuki's nails start to dig into his arms.

"I-I thought you said---"

"We're not gonna fuck yet, baby, I just wanna make you cum. Mess around a little bit. There's so many ways to do that without fucking you." He reminds Katsuki, fingers rubbing against Katsuki's shower slick hole. Katsuki grinds down against his thigh again, shuddering at the feeling.

"Y-Yeah? Like what?"

Hitoshi chuckles, obviously amused. Katsuki's attempting to be seductive but he really looks incredibly wanton---like he'll cum all over them both at any moment.

"Oh, you know. I could suck on those pretty nipples---maybe go down on that cute little cock for a little while. I can even eat you out if you want, finger your sweet, tight little hole until your legs give out. Anything pretty little pussy boys could ever want that isn't a fat dick in 'em, yeah?" He teases, nipping at Katsuki's ear. The blonde shudders and clings to Hitoshi as his legs begin to wobble a bit.

"Ohhh, fuck, Toshi---"

"Mhmm." He's moaning in Katsuki's ear, his own cock rutting against Katsuki's toned middle to give himself some relief. A finger breaches Katsuki and forces a choked 'fuck---yes~' out of him, taking it's time to feel around his insides before it determines that he's ready for another. It spreads him apart, pushing deep inside to feel around the inside of him until they push against his sweet spot.

Katsuki mewls, forehead against Hitoshi's chest as his thighs tremble.

"Oooh, did daddy find Kitty's soft spot? Does that feel good, baby?"

A frantic nod. Hitoshi uses his free hand to spread him further apart and get his fingers in deeper, forcefully drilling the pads of his fingers against the little bundle of nerves that has Katsuki seeing stars and standing on his toes---an attempt to better cope with the intense onslaught of pleasure he's receiving that doesn't involve turning into a puddle on the shower floor.

"Shit---fuck, baby, yes! Yesyesyesyes, don't stop!"

"I know, baby, I know. And look at you, such a good boy, takin' it for me like that. You wanna cum for me, honey? Hm? Cum for me, baby~" He whispers, voice husky in Katsuki's ear to help bring him closer to climax.

Katsuki's heaving breaths crescendo into loud and high pitched moans and cries, louder and louder until he cums with a squeal. His legs give out on him but Hitoshi has absolutely no trouble holding him up, not letting up even the slightest bit on his assault even as Katsuki goes into full bodied tremors and pleading whines. Hitoshi takes him right into the territory of near painful overstimulation, using the smooth and slick expanse of Katsuki's middle to bring himself to completion with a shuddering breath.

"Shit, baby---" He breathes out, hand reaching out to catch the wall as he nearly falls forward, winded. It's been a while since he's had the chance to get his rocks off.

Katsuki's damn near completely boneless in his arms. He takes his fingers out of him with laugh, reaching down to turn off the water that's gone lukewarm.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that too much for you?"

"Mmmmmph." Is the only response he gets, as it would seem that Katsuki is having a difficult time catching his breath. Hitoshi carries him out of the tub, taking a fresh and fluffy towel to dry him down. He'll give him a moment before they get dressed again.

#

"Did you enjoy that, Kit?"

Katsuki scoffs, pulling his shorts up to his thighs before he has to jump a bit to get them the rest of the way up. "I think I saw a glimpse of the pearly gates today in that shower. You didn't have to  make me cum so hard that I'd gone comatose."

"Aw, come on now, darlin'. You're gonna make me blush." He feigns coyness, pulling his shoes on. "You keep being such a babe and I'll give some more of that when you're cravin'." He stands, hands around Katsuki's waist as he leans down to catch his lips with his own.

"Now let's get you fed, hm?"

"M'kay. Where we goin' after that?"

"Gun shop. And maybe to the range. I wanna teach you how to use them. Just in case, yeah? Want my baby to be able to protect himself."

Katsuki's eyes light up.

"I'm gonna get a gun? I get to shoot a gun!"

"You're worrying me with how excited you are."

He just hopes he never gives Katsuki a reason to put a bullet in him.

"Alright. Get your fine ass in the car and let's get movin'."

Chapter 15: For Once

Summary:

"Alright, be that way then."

"I just wanna---"

"You just wanna keep me safe. Yeah. I get it."

Notes:

A/N: the next few chapters are going to be backstories and world building! Hitoshi and Katsuki are gonna get a little more personal with each other. Trigger warning for explicit details about murder. 

Within the last few months, Katsuki has learned not to ask Hitoshi too many questions about what they're doing, where they're going, or the people that they go and see. He'd like to say that it's because it's best that he not know, but it's really just because Hitoshi is a cryptic bastard who's every response is usually a variation of the phrase "Don't worry, baby, I got you" and the fact of the matter is that it's as good as answer as he could come to expect of his lover. He seldom ever gets straight answers and bitching about it never seems to yield any results.

Hitoshi has an incredible amount of patience or else he'd have gagged Katsuki long ago, the blonde is sure.

Today seems to be one occasion where Katsuki feels it necessary to ask questions. They'd driven to some obscure, off-road location at least an hour away from the city where there's what seems to be a sort of warehouse in a large clearing surrounded by trees and a whole lot of nothing. They're just sitting in the car, presumably waiting for someone or something.

"This feels really shady."

Hitoshi hums, rolling the window down as he lights a cigarette and takes a long, sweet drag from it.

"Everything I do is shady." He points and while it's a valid argument, it's very obvious that he's tip-toeing around Katsuki's initial purpose in asking. The blonde side-eyes him.

"Why are we here, Toshi?"

"I told you already; daddy needs new guns, baby."

"Then shouldn't we be in a pawn shop or...I dunno, a store?"

"Katsuki. I murder people for a living, baby doll. Why in the ever-lovin' shit would I go register guns that I plan on killing people with? Hm?" He counters, a matter-of-fact-ish expression plastered to his face that leaves Katsuki blooming bright red from the neck up.

"O-Oh."

"Yeah. Use that big brain, baby. Trust that I know what I'm doin', yeah? This is an arms dealer of mine that I've been doing business with for years." Hitoshi discloses. It seems he's actually in the mood to answer questions today. Katsuki's going to milk it for all it is worth.

"So your dad was a mercenary, too?"

"Mmm. Kinda. Only difference really is that he worked for the government. Technically he was an assassin paid by the elites. I, on the other hand, work for crooks. Or... anybody who'll pay me, really."

"Why didn't you work for the government too? They paid him nice and it seems like he was able to retire without hassle too."

Hitoshi pauses, blowing smoke in Katsuki's direction with a narrowed gaze.

"Somebody's talkative today."

Damn. Did he milk it too hard?

Katsuki shrugs and Hitoshi considers him a moment before he turns back to look out of the window. He doesn't grace Katsuki with any other response then that and Katsuki sinks down in his seat with a sigh. Of course, that was Hitoshi's passive way of saying 'mind your business'. Katsuki wants to say that he should at least know the man that he's run off with more than this but Hitoshi has done him the courtesy of not asking any prying questions of his own. Probably to keep Katsuki from doing so. To keep the playing field fair.

From them to know each other as they are now and not who they used to be.

"Alright, be that way then."

"I just wanna---"

"You just wanna keep me safe. Yeah. I get it."

Hitoshi sighs, flicking his cigarette out of the window as he sits up from his leaning position. Katsuki is doing his best to avoid eye contact with him after a let down like that and Hitoshi is kind of annoyed. Today is supposed to be fun. He doesn't want Katsuki walking around sad all day.

"You wanna know that bad?"

"...just wanna know who I'm fallin' in love with. That's all. I mean you're talkin' about marryin' me someday and I don't even know who you really are. Just bits and pieces. Fragments. While there's nothing I can hide from you...you keep everything from me."

Hitoshi's brows pinch together and he leans closer to get a look at Katsuki's face.

"Fuck, you're really upset about this, aren't you? Damn, I didn't know you'd cry about it---"

"I'm not fuckin' cryin'!"

"Baby." Hitoshi counters---can see the way the corners of Katsuki's mouth turn down from his reflection in the window. The older man curses under his breath.

"I'm---ah, shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad; this was supposed to help us take a load off today. If I tell you, will you stop cryin'? I hate seeing you cry, it fucks with me."

Katsuki keeps his eyes glued to the window but he nods as visual affirmation. Hitoshi reaches out to grab Katsuki's hand and kiss his knuckles, attempting to coax him into looking at him.

"Hey. Hey, babe, look at me."

Katsuki huffs through his knows and reluctantly turns to face him. His eyes are just glazed over with tears but none of them have fallen---he simply just blinks him away. Hitoshi can tell by how difficult it is for him to swallow that he was fairly close to tears.

"I'm real sorry, okay? You can ask me anything you want and I'll answer. Promise. I won't be mean to you like that anymore. Okay, baby?"

Katsuki nods and Hitoshi brushes his thumb across his cheek.

"We good?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Mhm. Promise."

"Gimme some love."

Katsuki pouts his lips out and Hitoshi leans forward a bit more to kiss him, pulling back to kiss at his forehead. "That's my boy. Now. To answer your question, I did used to work for the CIA. Or, well, I was training to work for them. I had already been overseas to study and originally wanted to work with the police but my father had a reputation there and I was offered the opportunity to work for the military. Still a kid---barely even eighteen.

The American government, however, is completely fucked and the system isn't very good to those who serve it. The secrets they were asking me to keep were too big for what they paid me and, honestly, they still keep me up some nights."

Katsuki is at a loss for words.

"Must've killed...what, thirty people while I was there? My dad managed to get me out before he retired shortly after but I was blacklisted from working law enforcement and the only skill set I had at the time was...well, murder. My reputation carried over. I started working for some elites here under the table and before I knew it I was working dirty jobs for the underworld."

Katsuki is able to do little more than gape at him.

"T-Toshi...that's..."

"Badass? I know."

"I was gonna say fucked up but I mean, yeah, I guess it's badass too..."

The lilac-haired man offers Katsuki a chuckle and a hum. "Yeah? Sorry, I can't help but find humor in a lot of the shit that happens to me now. With the profession my dad was in, I never got to live a normal life like other kids. I guess I had already become desensitized to it by then."

Katsuki can only imagine how fucked someone's life would have to be in order for them to be numb to murdering people by the age of twenty-three.

"How did your mom feel about all of this...? How did you get involved with Deku...?"

Whatever it is that Izuku does. Katsuki is still in the dark about what's happening. Izuku's always been like a big brother to him. They had been attached at the hip since they were toddlers. Why doesn't he know who Izuku is? Why does it make his heart hurt so bad whenever he thinks about it?

Hitoshi pauses to think about the question---probably debating on whether or not he wanted to answer.

"I-If it's too much of a sensitive topic then you don't have to---"

"No, no. I said I'd answer. And it's not necessarily sensitive to talk about. Just been a long time since I've talked about it." He explains, scratching at his chin. "I can hardly remember my mom these days; she died when I was so young."

"O-Oh...she was sick?"

"If you call a bullet to the head an illness." Hitoshi scoffs and Katsuki can't help but feel so incredibly remorseful for even bringing up such a macabre subject.

"Holy shit, Hitoshi! I'm sorry, I---"

"No, it's okay. I was the one who shot her. She tried to kill me. Somethin' about long term postpartum---that's what the doctors and investigators determined. My dad said that was load of horse shit and I can't help but be inclined to agree with him." He explains casually, as if they were talking about the weather or what they were having for lunch that day. Not like he'd just admitted to Katsuki that he, as a child, murdered his mother.

Holy shit, he's still talking.

"I had to be maybe...what? Six? She tried to drown me in the bathtub and when I got free and managed to make it to their room, she tried to stab me. I got to my dad's gun and shot her twice. After that, he'd started teaching me how to use them. First shot hit her in the arm and the second in the head so---"

"Hitoshi, please. Holy shit, just---baby, slow down, please. I get it of you're trying to teach me a lesson about asking too many questions---"

"That's not it. I'm just...I guess I'm just comin' clean. Nobody else knows about all this weird, fucked up shit from my past. And you had a point. If we're gonna be together, you should know. You should know why I am who I am. Why I am the way that I am." Hitoshi objects, turning to look Katsuki in the eyes again. "Am I scaring you? Probably wouldn't wanna be with someone like that, huh? Maybe I should've just kept my mouth shut anyway, last thing I wanted to do was run you off." He sighs, reaching for another cigarette as his nerves get the best of him.

"Toshi. Whether you're killing people now or you've killed people in the past doesn't really make a difference. You're still a murderer."

"Gee, thanks, Kat."

"No, dipshit. What I'm sayin' is that I'm not gonna feel any different about you just because your past was incredibly and royally fucked from the very beginning. I actually feel really sad about it and I wanna hug you and say that I'm sorry that shit ever happened to you but I know it wouldn't help or change anything." Katsuki is overwhelmed by what Hitoshi has told him and now, for sure, feels like he's going to cry. But he doesn't want Hitoshi to feel bad for opening up and being honest with him. He just---

"Hurt so bad for you..."

Hitoshi gives him an odd sort of smile that's sweet, happy and sympathetic all at the same time.

"Oh, baby. I really didn't mean to make you even sadder. I'm okay, really. I hardly ever bat an eye thinking about it anymore. I'm not sad or depressed---I'm okay."

Katsuki sniffles, a tear finally falling even as he tries to blink it away.

"Promise?"

"I promise. You wanna gimme a hug? Would that make you feel better?"

Katsuki nods and Hitoshi reaches over to pull Katsuki over the middle console to hold him in his lap. He presses kisses into tear stained skin and whispers sweet words to him, assuring him that he's just fine and that Katsuki doesn't have to be sad for him.

"I won't ask questions again. I really am sorry..."

"You didn't do anything wrong, stop that. Don't get it twisted, I chose this life. But you didn't and that exactly why I wanna get you to safety before I finish this job. I'm gonna make it my last one."

"...you are?"

"I sure am. That way I can live a regular life like my old man, settle down with this pretty young blonde thing I met who I'm damn head over heels for."

Katsuki adjusts himself in Hitoshi's lap.

"You...you'd put this whole life down for me?"

"Mm? Well, it's not like we can raise a family like this, now can we?"

Katsuki falls more and more for this man every single day. He's either got a horrible standard for the men he chooses to date or he's losing his mind.

"Oh, shit, she's here."

"Who?"

A knock at the window startles Katsuki enough that he jumps and, in turn, sets of the car horn. Hitoshi tries and fails to hide his snorting laughter and a loud, whooping laugh from outside has him turning red from the neck up in utter embarrassment.

"That's not fucking funny!" Katsuki yells, punching Hitoshi in the shoulder as he opens their door and carries Katsuki out of the car to put him down on both feet once they're out. Hitoshi stifles his laughter once more, holding his arms up in surrender.

"Don't blame me, it was her." He says, pointing behind the blonde.

She's a pale woman with short, pink locs in her hair. There's an odd pair of goggles on her head and she's covered from head to toe in what could either be soot or grease.

She smells a lot like iron and gunpowder.

"I didn't mean to scare you but you're reaction was so worth it." She admits with a shrug, leaning against the hood of her car.

"Kit, this is Mei Hatsume. She's a friend of mine who makes and deals special weapons for military personnel. Mei, this babe here is Katsuki."

"And a babe he is. I didn't know you did live cargo."

"He ain't live cargo. Katsuki's my boyfriend."

Hatsume gives him a pleasantly surprised look, hand up to her chest.

"You've never had a boyfriend before. Hell, you've never had a girlfriend before."

"Yeah, well, this one's special. Wanna show him how to use a gun, show me what you got for me." He says, cutting the conversation about his sexuality short. Mei walks around to the trunk and pops it open, taking a large duffle bag out that presumably is full of guns.

Katsuki pretends that he doesn't see the dead body laying in her trunk.

What the hell is wrong with these people?

"Alright, here's some new stuff I got for ya. These are my babies, so you better take good care of them."

Chapter 16: Bait & Switch

Summary:

Twenty-eight people were murdered on the night that Katsuki Bakugou had gone missing. Twenty-eight people were mourned by an entire country. Twenty-eight families will never be the same again. Twenty-eight days have passed.

Not a single one of those people have received justice.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-eight people were murdered on the night that Katsuki Bakugou had gone missing. Twenty-eight people were mourned by an entire country. Twenty-eight families will never be the same again. Twenty-eight days have passed.

Not a single one of those people have received justice.

Not a single person knows where Katsuki Bakugou or Hitoshi Shinsou is.

Not even one Izuku Midoriya.

Denki hasn't seen his freckled friend this angry in several years, an inevitable path of destruction in his wake with every brooding thought that crosses his already clouded judgement. He's volatile and impulsive; Denki had figured that this would happen the very moment that their plans had gone tits up on the night of the massacre. He was quite prepared to deal with Izuku's moodiness---had even prepared for the very real possibility that Izuku would take out his frustrations on some unsuspecting underling and sentence them to an untimely execution.

He was not, however, prepared to deal with Izuku preparing to wage an all-out war against the entirety of the Shie Hassaikai. 

Denki can list at least a dozen reasons as to why that's a terrible idea right off of the top of his head.

The first being that no one will win that war. They'll all perish. And as loyal as Denki has been to the league---to Izuku?

His loyalty to his Shouto is much stronger.

He understands why Izuku is angry. The Hassaikai broke a very clear deal---a deal that was signed by both parties to be followed down to the fucking tee. It's reasonable to be angry with them.

However, Denki did warn him that it was a bad idea to have put so much trust into those muscle-bound morons to begin with and Izuku insisted that he could handle the affairs without Kaminari's advice.

It's only because of Izuku's arrogance that they failed.

Izuku's mostly pissed off because he doesn't have anyone to blame for this nightmare besides himself. He can't blame Hitoshi. Hitoshi had done his job and then some. Izuku would inevitably owe him for that.

His father must be rolling in his grave at how quickly Izuku has managed to turn his legacy into a shitshow. He'll fix it, he swears. That's what he's said to Denki. At this point, however, he isn't even sure anymore.

"They're calling it the 'Somnambul Massacre'. Can you believe that fucking nonsense?" The freckled man snorts, though his fingers still tap anxiously at the arm of his chair. He's been restless for quite a few days now and while Denki can understand why, it worries him that Izuku may actually snap and lose his shit at any given moment.

"They always have to give that sorta shit a name. People die every fuckin' day, this shit was nothing short of a normality. Besides, only one or two casualties were regular civilians. The others were either one of ours or one of...his." Denki doesn't want to say his name lest he serve to further agitate his friend. "It's annoying to think they're gonna make a bitch like Midnight out to be a fuckin' community leader. She sold prostitutes and drugs, for fuck's sake."

Izuku sighs sharply, hand carding through the mess of curls on his head. "Yeah but she made us a lot of fuckin' money. That one---the one that's held up with Sho right now---he was set to make us a pretty fuckin' penny."

"You know Katsuki cares about that one."

"Fuck, yeah, I know. I'm not planning on selling him anymore. We have to set up shop elsewhere, make new connections. I'm sure we can find better numbers."

Denki smiles at that. "You gonna quit messin' around and admit that you're totally in love with Katsuki?"

"You're out of your mind."

"Am I? Dude, you literally just passed on a quarter of a million dollars just so Katsuki would have a nice toy to play with."

"Katsuki's like my baby brother. He's the only family I've really got these days. I want to make sure he's being taken care of."

"Mm. So you don't mind that Hitoshi's probably boning him right now?"

Izuku pauses, head whipping around to give Denki a sharp and narrow gaze.

"No, I don't. If that's what Kacchan wants."

"...so you'd be totally cool with me getting a taste of that too?"

"You're trying to piss me off, aren't you?"

"If I say no, will you shoot me?"

"Without hesitation."

"Then absolutely."

There's a slight pause, Denki pulling an innocent smile that has Izuku's annoyance dwindling away as if it was never there to begin with. He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head fondly, resting his head in his palm. "You're such a fucking asshole." He chuckles and Denki shrugs, leaning onto Izuku's shoulder with a friendly familiarity. "I just wanted to see you smile, dude. Calm down and relax a little. So we lost a couple hundred thousand in merch, we've got plenty to make up for it. Don't worry about setting up shop somewhere else; I made a call."

"To?"

"Medusa, man, who else?"

That seems to quell Izuku's nerves a bit more and he relaxes into his seat. "Medusa. Shit, she's just as big as Midnight was—if not with a little more fuckin' class. Call Sato and Shoji, send a team out to secure it. If any of the Hassaikai show up, blow their fuckin' heads off on sight."

"Done and done, boss."

"Endeavor been snooping around you and Sho's place lately?"

"No more than usual. It's fine. We're at an understanding that if he tries to take Shouto, he will die."

Denki isn't going to negotiate that. If Shouto cares about his father even a little, he'll make sure that he stays away and keeps his threats to himself. He's allowed him to get away with his disrespectful actions for far too long. If it wasn't for Shouto begging for mercy on his father's behalf, Enji and the entirety of the Endeavor Syndicate would be dead.

"Good. By now, he's been completely backed into a corner. He doesn't want a war with the League; not when we have both of his sons. His only option is to give up his territory or we take it. We'll even do him the courtesy of calling it a partnership and not a coup. Set up a meeting with him; have Tomura handle it."

Denki wants to say that this idea is another horrible one but he assumes that Izuku has a reason for sending their most volatile guy to handle the job. Denki has never known for Tomura to be good at anything that wasn't leading his faction into a full on battle royale but there have been times where he has been rather persuasive with potential business partners. He managed to get the Hassaikai on board with only one casualty, after all.

Except that turned out to be a fucking bust.

"Roger, boss. Can't wait to get that shit over with so my baby and I can go ahead and get married already." Denki sighs, wanting nothing more than start his life together with Shouto. He's promised his love a ring for years now but certain things must be done and in order before that becomes possible. If they secure his father's territory and join both factions together then the League will become unstoppable which means that he and Shouto would be set for life.

Then he could finally give his baby the life that he deserves.

He plans to sit Shouto down some day and tell him what it is that he does---the kind of lifestyle that he really lives. He'll understand. Denki has no doubt about it that he'll still love him. That he'll still accept him and want to be with him. Shouto wouldn't ever betray him.

Speaking of.

"Hey, Izuku."

"Hm?"

"Something's been bothering me since that night. About the way that whole deal went sour, y'know?"

"Mm. I know."

"Alright. What are we gonna do about it?"

"...We'll handle it. Just not here."

Too many ears. It's exactly why neither of them have said it aloud. The last thing they want to do is alert whoever this traitor is to their plans and suspicions.

"Alright. I'm gonna go make those calls. Maybe stop and get some lunch. You want anything?"

"Pad thai."

"Say less."

He gets the feeling they're being watched right now, but Izuku is more than capable of his own protection.

Whoever has the balls to test that theory had better have one hell of a prayer.

#

Hitoshi smiles as he watches Katsuki do a bit of a twirl for him in the outfit that he's tried on. Those jeans fit like a second skin, riding high on his waist and accentuating those curves.

He's not mad at that at all.

He's wearing a cute little pink crop top that says 'Fuck You, Pay Me' on it in dainty white font. Katsuki seems to be waiting for Hitoshi's opinion but the older man is much too busy admiring just how absolutely gorgeous he looks.

But Hitoshi manages to feel that way about every outfit Katsuki has tried on today.

"Baby."

"Hm?"

"I asked you how it looks. Does it look stupid; is that why you're making that face like a stunned fish?"

Hitoshi snorts with a fond shake of his head. "No, Kitty. You look... absolutely fuckin' delicious—wow." He says, biting into his lip as he rakes his eyes over Katsuki's form once more. "I can't wait til this shit is over so I can love on you like I want to."

Katsuki blooms bright red, allowing Hitoshi to pull him close by his hips and look up into his eyes. "We don't have to wait." He says suggestively, a flirty smirk playing at his lips. Hitoshi rolls his eyes, patting Katsuki on his backside. "Yes, Katsuki, we do." He counters and Katsuki huffs out a pout. "Toshi---"

"I told you, I'm not gonna let our first time together be some quicky in the car or a hotel or a in fuckin' retail store fitting room. I'm gonna treat you better than that." He says firmly. "Now, if you're just that horny then Daddy will buy you some toys and we'll play. Trust me, baby, you're not gonna be disappointed at all. You want that?"

"...is that my only option?"

"That or abstinence. Up to you, baby boy."

"Fine, let's go buy the damn toys. And that gun is poking my thigh, it hurts." He relents, mumbling the last bit to where only Hitoshi could hear. The mercenary chuckles and tightly gropes at Katsuki's backside. "Oh, that's not my gun, babe." He says with a wink as he stands, leaving Katsuki gaping at him in a mixture of arousal and disbelief.

"Seriously?!"

"Take the tags off of those so I can pay for them, I want you to wear that outfit for me today."

"Don't ignore me, asshole!"

Katsuki does as he's told even as he chases after Hitoshi, jumping onto his back as the man continues to ignore him. Hitoshi simply hauls him over his shoulder and repositions Katsuki to hold him up at his waist, one arm underneath his bottom to keep him held up and the other carrying their bags as Katsuki fails to stifle a startled yelp and a giggle.

"You make me feel so big and strong just by being a cute little twink."

"Call me a twink again and I'll bite you."

"You know I'm into that, Kitty."

"Shut up, jerk." Katsuki laughs, hopping down from Hitoshi's arms as they approach the counter to allow his boyfriend to pay for his things.

From the corner of his eye, he notices an oddly intimidating older man eyeing them from across the room.

It sends a cold feeling right to his gut.

His fingers clutch into the fabric of Hitoshi's coat, eyes wide and frantic when he looks up at Hitoshi again.

"Toshi---"

"I see him, baby. Stay calm, follow my lead. Yeah?"

Katsuki swallows roughly and nods his affirmation, keeping close to Hitoshi's side as he counts out his cash to hand to the clerk without ever looking away. He smiles and thanks her as she hands him a receipt, arm around Katsuki's waist to guide him in the opposite direction.

And just like he assumed, the stranger follows.

"I recognize him. He's only dangerous if he gets close enough to touch you but we're faster than him and if he manages to get too close, I'm gonna blow his fuckin' head off. Keep walking, head for the car and walk in front of me."

"O-Okay..."

"We're okay, honey, don't be scared. He's just tryna intimidate us."

"Well, I gotta say that I'm really fuckin' intimidated."

Guy's got a massive scar across his face and he's wearing a fucking eye patch for fuck's sake. He's twice Hitoshi's size at most but the mercenary seems quite confident that he can drop him with no issues at all.

By the time they make it out to the lot, the guy's hot on their trail.

"You know you can't run from us forever, Kid." His gruff voice spits out and Hitoshi scoffs out a laugh.

"Baby. Down."

He doesn't have to tell Katsuki twice; the blonde hits the ground and rolls behind a nearby vehicle just in time to hear the tell-tale sound of what he assumes to be a solid blow to the man's shaved head with the butt of Hitoshi's gun. He grunts in pain, the sound of his solid body hitting the ground enough to make Katsuki flinch.

"Funny you think I'd be running from you or your little pussy posse. I ain't fuckin' afraid of Chisaki and I sure as fuck," He punctuates it with a harsh kick to the ribs. "Ain't afraid of you, bitch." He says, squatting down over him and feigning a sigh of disappointment. "I'm insulted that he'd send you to come after me, water boy. You're not even a real part of the team. A stand-in. An extra. Tell him he's gonna have to stack his cookies a little a higher than that if he wants to get me shakin' in my boots." He says, clapping him against his cheek with pity right before he stands.

"Kitten. Let's go, baby."

Katsuki quickly stands up from where he's crouched and obediently goes to follow behind Hitoshi---not before delivering a kick of his own to the assailant's side and reveling in the choked groan he let's out.

"And that's for being a fucking creep, asshole!"

This is gonna become a regular Monday afternoon for them, it would seem.

Chapter 17: Far From the Tree

Summary:

Talking to Katsuki was therapeutic, sure. Just the sound of his lover's voice telling him that things would be alright had always put him at ease. But Katsuki wouldn't understand like his father did.

Notes:

Sorry I'm late! I've been caught up with some personal things! Here's your Monday update and I'll be back Friday morning with a bright and early update, back on schedule! Hope you enjoy! I was severely sleep deprived while writing this. ✨

"...Toshi?" 

Katsuki isn't sure of what time it was, only that it had to be either incredibly late or annoyingly early by how dark it is outside as he stirs awake from where he'd been sleeping in the passenger seat of the car. Hitoshi's jacket is draped across him so he imagines he must have been asleep for quite some time; they're parked in some rather unfamiliar place. 

Unfamiliar to Katsuki, anyway. Hitoshi seems to know very well where they are. 

The older man has his gaze focused out of the window. He doesn't take his eyes away from the house they're parked in front of, simply reaching over to squeeze Katsuki's thigh to let him know that he's there. The blonde sighs as he goes to sit upright in his seat, pulling the jacket up to his shoulders. 

"Where're we at?" He asks groggily and Hitoshi grunts. "Go back to sleep, baby. I'll wake you when it's time." 

Katsuki sucks his teeth at him, wiping a hand over his face. "Time for what, babe? What are you even doing? How long have we been sitting out here?" 

"Hm? It's…" Hitoshi pauses to check the time. "A little past five thirty in the morning so maybe an hour. You worry too much, baby, it's still too early for you to even be up. Just go back to bed—" 

"Why, so you can leave me in the car to go and kill whoever's in the house that we're outside of?" Katsuki counters, stretching as best he can in his seat. "This is mad creepy, by the way. Are we stalking somebody?" 

" You're not doing anything except sittin' your pretty ass down where I tell you. Don't even think about tryna get involved with my jobs, Kat, I'm serious—" 

" Okay, damn." 

"Good. Now, since you're so curious: I'm not on a job. This is my dad's place. The address he left for us." 

Oh. 

"Then...why are we sitting outside, baby?" 

Hitoshi sighs. Finally looking away from the window to look Katsuki in the eyes. "Cause I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing here. I haven't seen my dad in years; didn't even know where the hell he's been for the last...I dunno. Five or six years? He just disappeared. What am I supposed to say to him?" Hitoshi is, admittedly, not prepared to face his father again. "I basically raised myself after that. Not that I blame my dad at all—I know he had his reasons...but…"

Katsuki's expression softens, hands reaching out to caress Hitoshi's jaw with his thumb. "You're not sure how you'd go about carrying on with him. I understand." He says, leaning forward to kiss him and hopefully help calm his jittery nerves. "I don't know your father but I don't think he's expecting anything from you. You're not going to lose anything just by reconnecting with your father. And if you don't feel good about it, baby, then we can just turn around and leave right this moment. You don't have to force yourself to do this. It all depends on whether or not you want your dad in your life again. Either way...I'm with you."

Katsuki doesn't expect his opinion to mean much. He doesn't have the slightest clue of what Hitoshi's relationship with his father is like. He's not sure of what their last words to each other were. Of what Hitoshi's last memory of him consists of. All that Katsuki knows is that if he had the chance to go back and make amends with his own parents, he'd do it in a heartbeat. 

Granted, his parents didn't introduce him to a life of traumatizing murders and ties to corrupt government agencies but...Katsuki likes to think it relates all the same. 

Kinda. 

Maybe. 

Whatever. The important thing is that it seems like he's managed to get through to his incredibly nervous boyfriend despite not actually knowing what the hell is going on. 

"Alright...yeah, that makes sense. Thank you, baby. You always seem to know how to get me outta my head." 

Katsuki's smile widens at the praise he receives, blushing as Hitoshi reaches up to hold Katsuki's hand to his cheek. He turns to press a kiss into his palm. 

"I love you." 

"Y-Yeah?" 

"Yeah." Hitoshi chuckles as he leans forward, his lips ghosting against Katsuki's own. "Gimme some love." 

Katsuki responds by leaning into the kiss, fingers carding through Hitoshi's wild and hellacious head of hair as the older man hums his satisfaction. "God damn, I love those lips." He groans as he pulls away and Katsuki bubbles into a soft laugh. "You're too much." He accuses him and Hitoshi snickers, offering him that cocksure grin that Katsuki has come to love.

"Let's get this shit over with. You wanna stay in the car or—" 

"People are trying to kidnap me, Hitoshi." 

"Ooo, I forgot about that." 

"What?!" 

"Nevermind. C'mon, get your little fine ass outta the car so I can introduce you to my old man." He insists, reaching over to open  Katsuki's door for him before opening his own and stepping out. "This could go one of two ways." 

"Yeah? What's that?" Katsuki asks, pausing to stretch his legs to relieve them of the stiffness they felt. They must've been driving for hours. 

Hitoshi sighs. "Well, this could either be a heartfelt reunion with a whole lot of banter and shit talking or this could be an incredibly awful and awkward meeting that ends in utter disappointment for everyone involved." 

"Which one are you hoping for?" 

"I'm probably going to be embarrassed either way." 

"You're not very much of an optimist, are you?" 

"Fuck optimism; daddy's a realist, Kitty Kat. C'mere. You know the rules; stay close." 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." 

Katsuki quickly rounds the car, tucking tightly at Hitoshi's side as the chilly morning wind makes him shiver. Hitoshi is more than happy to share the heat from his body, arm looping around Katsuki's slim waist as he approaches the door. "You could've kept my coat on if you were cold, baby. You're not dressed for this kind of weather." He says, giving Katsuki a once over. Katsuki mumbles an apology under his breath but Hitoshi disregards it with a kiss to his temple, rubbing up and down Katsuki's bare arms to warm him up a bit more. 

Hitoshi raises a hand to open the door when it cracks open on its own. He pauses a moment and takes a step back, expecting for the door to open completely but it never does. 

"Are you gonna stand there all morning? Hurry up, you're letting all of the heat out." Comes distant and slightly muffled through the door. 

Hitoshi and Katsuki share a look with one another but Hitoshi complies to the gruff and exasperated voice by lightly pushing the door open with his foot. He's greeted by the sight of a dimly lit living room. He doesn't see anyone as he walks in and feels himself become a bit nervous; had he imagined that voice before? Surely not. Katsuki had heard it too, didn't he? 

He closes the door behind them but he doesn't lock it—a habit he's picked up when entering new places. He needs to be able to exit without the obstacle of a locked door should something happen—be able to get Katsuki to safety. 

He's hoping—for all involved—that he doesn't have to do that. 

"You two hungry? Thirsty? I'm making coffee, if you want some." The voice comes again but this time from their side. Hitoshi whips around, subtly pulling Katsuki behind him. Is he really so tired that he hadn't noticed someone to their right? Hadn't noticed that someone was quite literally making morning coffee at their side? 

He's staring at the back of who he assumes to be his father, scarred and marred by years of experience and the misfortunes of war. The dark hair on his head is tied back, sweatpants riding low on his hips. If Hitoshi didn't know any better, he'd think he'd just crawled out of bed but it's more likely that he'd been waiting for Hitoshi—expecting him. Or, perhaps he'd heard them when they arrived and had known that they'd been sitting outside all of this time. 

Upon seeing the man's face, he relaxes a bit. No matter how many years go by, he'd recognize that face anywhere. 

Not even the poor lighting of the kitchen could hide just how exhausted his father seemed, eyes red rimmed and webbed. He looks as if he's not had a proper night's sleep in days, dark circles underneath his eyes quite reminiscent of the ones that Hitoshi carries on his own. 

Even down to the scar beneath their right eye, Hitoshi favors his father so much. Katsuki would think that they were brothers if he hadn't known any better. Hitoshi couldn't deny this man even if he wanted to. 

"What are you so jumpy for? You don't recognize your old man?" 

"N-No. I mean, yeah, of course. Sorry. Been on my toes for the last few weeks." Hitoshi breathes out, shifting nervously on his feet. "Coffee's good, thank you." 

"For your friend, too?" 

"Ah...yeah. Yeah, he likes coffee." 

"Have a seat, it'll be done in a bit." He gestures to the kitchen table and Hitoshi escorts Katsuki in, pulling out a chair for him. He opts to stand instead, leaning against the counter to take in his surroundings. It's a nice place, not on the main road but close enough to the city that it wouldn't be inconvenient for him to come and go when needed. Quiet. Tranquil, even. 

"You don't want to sit down?" 

"Not really. Pretty wired, it's best if I stand." 

The older man doesn't make any comment about Hitoshi's odd behavior, busying himself with distributing hot coffee into three mugs. He offers one to Katsuki and then to Hitoshi, setting a few packets of sugar and creamer onto the table for them. Katsuki goes about making his coffee acceptable for his tastes but he knows that Hitoshi likes to drink it as is, as it would seem his father does as well. 

He hasn't stopped eyeing Katsuki since he handed him the mug. 

"Didn't think you were the type to work with partners." He says, eyes finally flickering up at his son. Hitoshi scoffs at such a notion. 

"I don't. Sorry, it's rude of me to not introduce you. Katsuki, this is Shota Aizawa. My father. Dad, this is my baby, Katsuki." He points and Katsuki manages a nervous smile, raising a hand to wave at him. 

"H-Hi." 

"Hello young...man, I'm assuming. Apologies if I assumed incorrectly, it's just that my son addressed you as 'he' so I figured I should do the same." 

Katsuki can't help but giggle at that. 

"Yes sir, I'm a guy." 

"You're very beautiful." 

"Ah, t-thank you." 

"When did you become such a damn flirt?" Hitoshi grumbles, setting the half empty mug down to narrow his eyes in his father's direction. It's the first time that he sees Shota crack a smile, smirking over the rim of his mug. "Since when did you start dating cute little twinks? Hell, when did you start dating at all?" 

"Mind your own business, you damn lecher." 

"You're one to call someone a lecher." Katsuki snorts and Hitoshi feel, admittedly, a little betrayed. "You're taking his side?" 

"Toshi, what are you even talking about?" 

"Oh, Toshi? That's a cute nickname. So you guys on honeymoon and just decide to drop by and see me or…?"

Hitoshi sighs, wiping a hand over his face. 

"I knew you were going to be embarrassing." 

Shota chuckles, reaching over to ruffle Hitoshi's hair. "It's been too long. Besides, you were standing there acting like you were about to piss yourself; I had to lighten the mood somehow." He says, sitting down at the table. "What? Did you think you were gonna come here and that I'd attack you? Try to shoot you? I'm not like your mother. I thought you knew that." 

"I do. I mean...fuck. Like I said, it's been a rough couple of weeks." 

"Had to be if you made it out to Orca's place. He's a good man. Knew he'd send you my way if you ever made it there. And I knew you'd come if you ever needed my help." 

"...I do. But I don't know if I can really bring myself to ask that of you." Hitoshi admits with a sigh, finally sitting down across from his father. He tells him about his most recent job and the current situation he's gotten himself into. He isn't exactly sure why he feels like telling his father will change anything but it certainly feels better to talk about. 

Talking to Katsuki was therapeutic, sure. Just the sound of his lover's voice telling him that things would be alright had always put him at ease. But Katsuki wouldn't understand like his father did.

"I see. What are you worried about the most, kiddo? That you can't finish the job?" 

"God, no. The job is an easy job; Chisaki's a fucking moron. I just... I'm scared of...losing my baby. I can't focus on the job if I don't know he's safe for sure. And then what happens afterwards? I'm supposed to just hand him over to Midoriya? I'm supposed to trust that the League won't screw me like the Hassaikai did? I dunno." 

There's a moment of silence. Katsuki keeps quiet mostly because he feels it isn't his place to hand out his opinion on the matter. He doesn't know  what he's dealing with—not like these two.

Shota downs the rest of his coffee, looking as if he's debating on whether or not he'd like to refill it. 

"You kids go to the spare bedroom. Sleep in a proper bed for a while. Have some breakfast in a few hours." 

Hitoshi bristles. Hadn't he heard anything he just said? 

"Dad—" 

"Calm down, brat. You're not helping you or him when you're sleep deprived, hungry, and on edge. Rest. I'll help you take care of the rest." 

As much as Hitoshi wants to question his father, he doesn't. Hitoshi understands that in most ways, he's still a novice while his father has molded his experience into expertise. The best thing he can do for them both is to accept his father's help and advice. 

Besides, a nap sounded absolutely heavenly right about then.

"Alright." 

"You trust me?" 

"I shouldn't. Number one rule is to trust no one at all. But you're my father. I've always trusted you." 

Shota's smile returns. 

"Attaboy." 

"We'll see you in a few hours." 

"Sure. Put a sock on the door if you're gonna—" 

" Dad ." 

"Fine, fine." 

This is a better outcome than he could have ever hoped for. 

Still, he had never been so embarrassed. 

Chapter 18: Nostalgia

Summary:

Katsuki scoffs and half-heartedly turns away with a roll of his eyes.

"Shut up."

"Don't be mad; I love that you're all sweet like that." The older man hums, gently gripping Katsuki's jaw and turning his head to face him once again. "You mad at me, baby?"

Notes:

Life has been kicking my butt but I'm finally able to get back on track! Took a while for things to get back to normal after the storm but now updates will definitely resume on Mondays and Fridays! Thanks for your patience! 💗✨

Katsuki can't remember the last time he's had a home-cooked meal. Even before current events had taken place, he'd simply just been too busy or too broke to be bothered with going grocery shopping and cooking for himself. Sure, Izuku kept him fed but with his hectic schedule, it wasn't as if he'd had time to sit down and enjoy his Auntie Inko's cooking. If he wasn't working then he was in classes or working on some stupid fucking essay that took up a majority of their grade but had been overall pointless in typing because the professors usually only ever skimmed through them instead of actually reading them. Honestly, why assign all of this fucking work if you're not even gonna use the same amount of effort to grade it as the students did in writing it?! 

But Katsuki digresses. 

He's been living on gas station coffee and cheap, greasy take-out and fast food for the last two years or so. Admittedly, it's a hell of a step up from surviving on ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches but the last time he'd even see a home-cooked meal was…

The dinner Auntie had made for them in celebration of Katsuki graduating high school. 

It seems like such a distant memory even though it was only two years ago—he can't even remember what she'd made. All he remembers is feeling like he'd taken it for granted when he finally got on his own and realized that those meals back home were a privilege. 

Today, for the first time in years, Katsuki is eating a breakfast meal that was handmade from scratch just for him. 

He hadn't expected for Hitoshi's father to be such a good cook but he supposed that killing people didn't make you less likely to be skilled in something like preparing food. It sounds like such a horrible stereotype but he just figured they'd be much too busy learning how to hide bodies or make murders look like accidents to be concerned about making the perfect flapjack. 

Go figure. 

"Thanks for the meal, Aizawa-san." 

"You can call me Shouta, sweetheart. Or dad. Whichever you prefer." 

Hitoshi half-heartedly whacks his father in the back of the head with the towel that he's drying the counters with, an annoyed grumble slipping past his lips. "Are you going to be this embarrassing the entire time that I'm here?" 

Shouta shrugs. "Maybe. I don't get to do this often, kid. Let me have nice things." 

"Bullying your son when he comes to visit is considering having nice things?" 

"Letting me be a father for once is considered giving me nice things." 

Katsuki can't see his face, but he can practically hear Hitoshi roll his eyes from here. 

"Fine. Sure. Whatever." He relents, sitting next to Katsuki at the table after setting a glass of orange juice in front of him. "You don't have to wait on me to start eating, baby. We don't say grace in this family. Eat up; it's been awhile since you've been fed properly." He suggests, digging right into his meal without much fanfare. Katsuki almost doesn't want to eat his own—it looks so perfect that ruining it seems like such a waste but his desperate stomach growls angrily so he, too, relents and finally begins to eat the meal gifted to him. 

If you'd told Katsuki before today that heaven was a flapjack breakfast on a Tuesday morning, he'd call you a liar and tell you to fuck right off but now? 

Shouta might as well have been an angel. 

The dark-haired man leans against the counter, freshly made mug of hot coffee poised at his mouth as he watches the two of them in silence. It isn't an awkward one—not until Katsuki makes eye contact with him. He averts his gaze, cheeks darkening as he notes the peculiar look in his eyes. 

"Tell me about yourself, Katsuki. I mean, I've never seen nor heard of my son being so attached to someone. And believe me—I'd know. I've got friends in high places. I'm a little curious about what makes him so addicted to you." 

Katsuki shrugs, eyes flickering up at Shouta as he continues his meal. "There isn't much to tell." He says flatly, "I'm a college freshman at Yuuei and a stripper who works at exclusive clubs. The only real notable trait that I can think of is that I'm mean as all hell." 

"You don't seem mean to me." 

"I'm trying to make a good impression on my boyfriend's father right now. The knowledge that you could make my life even more of a living hell without ever lifting your finger is a damn good motivator." 

Shouta snorts out a laugh—genuine, if Katsuki is reading him correctly.

"You're honest. I like that." 

"It's not as charming as it looks."

"Don't sell yourself short, darlin'. That bratty little attitude is what made me fall right in love with you." Hitoshi chuckles lightly as he takes a sip from his own coffee. Katsuki snorts into his glass. "Sure it wasn't the fact that I would get naked for you?" 

"No offense, baby boy, but you'd get naked for anybody that paid you." 

"I'm not offended at all; I was a damn good stripper." 

"About that. We could use that to our advantage." Shouta chimes, catching both of their curious gazes as he finally takes a seat at the table. "I did a lot of thinking about your situation. Called a couple of friends up to do some footwork for you. Hate to tell you but going to Shikoku is a lost cause. They expected you, cleared base before you even started your journey." 

Hitoshi curses under his breath. So much for an easy job. 

"They could have taken her any-fuckin'-where by now; who knows how many safe houses they have in that area alone. Knowing Chisaki, he's probably put her on a plane by now—" 

"Not quite. He knows you have this little sweetheart here and he's not gonna leave without him—he's valuable. Most likely, he's gonna try and zero in on you since he knows you're beeline-ing it straight for the Hassaikai base." 

"Makes sense. He'd try to catch me slipping and snatch Katsuki while I'm busy trying to yank the wool from over my eyes. It's a damn good strategy." 

"Well, Chisaki isn't an idiot." 

A pause. 

"He's kind of an idiot." 

"An absolute moron but he's a damn good strategist." 

Katsuki listens on, attempting to keep up but all of these names and places have all begun to muddle together as they speak. He tugs a hand through his hair, attempting to shake away his incoming migraine. "Ah, wait, wait, sorry. Just—I'm confused here. We're going after a person ? What the hell is the Hassaikai? And what does any of this have to do with me? What does he need me for?" 

Shouta and his son share a look with one another to which Hitoshi shrugs and avoids his father's narrowed gaze. 

"My son hasn't disclosed any of this to you?" 

"Are you kidding me? It was like pulling teeth just to get him to tell me his favorite color." 

It's expected, Shouta thinks to himself. Hitoshi has been trained to be as secretive as possible and it's nearly impossible to simply drop habits like that from memory. Katsuki must really be special to have gotten any info out of him at all. Shouta himself doesn't even know what Hitoshi's favorite color is. 

"Well...I guess I kind of have to tell you now." The mercenary sighs, reaching down for his pockets for a cigarette when he remembers that he's still in his underwear. "Alright, well. The girl we're after is, uh, what people in Chisaki's business like to call exotic merchandise. It's sick, yeah, but there are a bunch of sick fuckers willing to pay top dollar for her. She's fifteen years old so if we don't get to her now, we won't be able to save her." He begins,"Same with you. You fall right into that category. So does your friend Shouto but he's, ah...protected. You were supposed to be protected, too, but Midoriya fell short on his end."

"This about that disgusting, sex-trafficking bullshit? What do you mean exotic ? I was born and raised right in the next few towns over—" 

"Your parents weren't. More specifically, your mother. Same with Shouto's mum. And our target's mother as well. You don't know much about your family history, baby, but you're born from rare blood." 

And just like that, Hitoshi drops a bomb on him and continues on without even giving him a moment to absorb and consider what he's being told. 

What the fuck does he mean by rare blood ?

"I've been hired to save the girl by eliminating the Hassaikai but that in itself is a job unable to be done—not by one man. But I can kill Chisaki and that's just as good. Without a leader, they're useless and they'll fall apart on their own. I just have to make sure the girl is rescued first. As long as he has her, he has the upper hand. Leverage." 

"Didn't take you as an altruist." Shouta comments and Hitoshi huffs out a cynical laugh. "Altruist? I've sacrificed enough for this job and it's gotten way too outta control for me to stop now and walk away empty handed. I want my check." 

"Hitoshi, are you fucking serious? You want your check ? This is a human being; she's more than a fucking meal ticket." Katsuki points and Hitoshi groans in annoyance. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Kat. The fuck you want me to do, put on a cape and save every poor damsel that needs saving? It's not my fuckin' job and even when it was, I knew that I couldn't save everyone. I know you have this complex about doing the right thing or fuckin' whatever but you're gonna learn really quickly that shit just doesn't work that way, alright?" 

Katsuki's jaw snaps shut, tense as Katsuki tries his best to stop his trembling. He's breathing heavily through his nose, unshed tears stinging at his eyes as he glares angrily in Hitoshi's direction. 

"Really fuckin' convenient for me then, huh? I'd be in her shoes right now if you hadn't decided you wanted to keep me as a fucking pet."

Hitoshi sighs, resting his palm in his hand as Katsuki hastily stands from the table. 

"Kitty Kat..." 

"Whatever. I'm gonna leave you two to discuss whatever plans you came up with to secure your fucking check. "

Hitoshi reaches out to grab Katsuki's arm, sure not to grip his wrist too tightly lest he unintentionally bruise him. 

"I'm just one guy, Katsuki. One. As much as I'd like to, I can't just solve all of the world's problems. I'm not strong enough. I don't have the resources. The list could go on, really. You know? Detaching myself from it all helps. Treating jobs like tasks instead of people? It helps. I'm sorry if what I said hurt you. But baby, you gotta trust me. You don't wanna get too attached to your humanity with a job like this." 

Katsuki doesn't respond verbally but he doesn't try to tear himself away. Hitoshi takes it as a win. 

"C'mere. Don't leave." He gently coaxes Katsuki back towards the table, seating him on his lap instead. The blonde folds his arms over his chest and averts his gaze, mouth turned down in a frown. 

He's pouting. 

Hitoshi can't help the fond smile that crosses him, hand reaching up to take Katsuki's face in his palm. 

"God, you're such a baby sometimes." 

Katsuki scoffs and half-heartedly turns away with a roll of his eyes. 

"Shut up." 

"Don't be mad; I love that you're all sweet like that." The older man hums, gently gripping Katsuki's jaw and turning his head to face him once again. "You mad at me, baby?" 

A pause and another eye-roll. 

"No. I can't be mad at you for that." 

"Mmm, that's my boy. Gimme some love." 

Katsuki leans forward to kiss Hitoshi, cheeks burning with the realization that his father had been sitting there watching them the entire time. 

"I-I love you, okay? Please...promise me that you're not going to throw me away like that. Can you promise me that I'm not just collateral? That you don't just want me because of my rare blood ? Cause if that's true then—"

"Baby, baby, hold on. That's what you're worried about? Holy shit, I wasn't tryna paint a picture like that in your head—" 

"And my son is too damn lazy to go so far as to bring you home to meet me if you were just an object to him. If he just wanted you for the value on your head, he'd have turned you in for the bounty already and he wouldn't even need to be bothered with going through with this job. He doesn't give a shit about his track record. He's not one to commit." 

"But I'm committed to you, baby. You don't have to worry about that; I'd never intentionally do anything to hurt you." Hitoshi assures him, gently squeezing at Katsuki's hip. The blonde relaxes at this, tense posture slowly melting away as he leans into Hitoshi's chest. "You mean that?" 

"I do. I love you, Kit. More than I've loved any other person for a really long time. And for the first time in a long time, I've been able to feel things again because of you. I've been walking around empty for what feels like an eternity. I told you that you were different from the others. I wish you'd believe me when I tell you how much you mean to me." 

Shouta actually bubbles into a cackle at that. "Jesus, fuck, when did you become such a fucking sap ?" 

"I was having a fuckin' moment, old man!" 

"Seriously. I wasn't even that touchy with your mother." 

"Well, my mother was a psychotic, paranoid bitch. Don't compare what I have with Katsuki to the biggest mistake of your life." 

"Not the biggest mistake." Shouta clarifies as he stands to take the dishes to the sink. "I got you out of the deal. Best thing that ever happened to me." 

Hitoshi blushes, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck and Katsuki can't help but wonder how two of the scariest motherfuckers he's ever met managed to be so goddamn cute. 

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me." 

Shouta shrugs. "I don't have any reason to keep my affections to a minimum anymore. We never did physical affections or affirmations when I raised you because we couldn't afford it. I don't work for anyone. I'm a free man. I can afford to be a father." 

Hitoshi manages a smile. 

"After this, I'm hoping I can afford to be a son. Maybe come move back here in the city so we can be closer. Get married to this sweet little blonde thing I fell head over heels for. Sounds like the life, don't it?" 

Shouta hums a non-committal response. "For us, maybe. You should keep in mind to ask Katsuki what he wants. He had a life there in Tokyo. Friends. School. You don't wanna uproot him from that, do you?" 

"Little late for that now. I'm considered a missing person right now. My friends turned out not to be who they said they were and by now I'm sure as shit going to fail the semester and lose my scholarship. That life for me is just as good as over." Katsuki explains, a bit downtrodden. He's learn to come to terms with things quite some time ago but there are so many days where he wishes that he could go back to the way that things used to be. 

He could have gone his entire life without this. 

But he supposes he should be grateful. Because of this, people in his life have been exposed for who they really were. 

Fucking frauds.

But God, does he miss Shouto and Yuga.

"Hitoshi is willing to put his gun down just to have a normal life with me. Moving away from the shadow of a miserable life that I used to live so that he can be close to you is the least I can do to compromise." 

Shouta seems impressed—though for what, Katsuki is unsure. 

"I really like this one." 

Hitoshi kisses Katsuki's crown with a loud smack. "Yeah, me too. So tell us about your plan. The quicker we can get this shit over with, the better." 

Shouta snaps his fingers as if he'd forgotten and had just been reminded of something important. 

"Oh, yeah. Katsuki. You said you were a stripper, right?" 

Chapter 19: Finesse

Summary:

His choice of wording opens the opportunity for Katsuki to go for the kill.

"They aren't?"

"That's what I said, is it not?"

Katsuki leans into him, nosing against Kurono's jaw.

"Mm. What's that mean for me, then, baby? Does that mean I get a chance with you?"

Notes:

Happy New Year! I know I've been MIA with updates for this story but I honestly didn't think anyone was reading it 😅

Part of my New Year's Resolution is to be more consistent with updates, so I'll only have one scheduled update a week from now on and that will strictly be Tuesdays. To those of you still reading, thanks so much for your patience and kindness! It feels good to be back.

There's an odd sense of nostalgia in the air—loud, thumping music and body glitter everywhere. It reminds Katsuki of when he'd first started working at Somnambul but this place wasn't even halfway as upscale as Midnight's was. 

It's a little hole-in-the wall joint by the name of Sugar Daddy's Exotic Dance Bar, covered wall to wall in erotic posters and sketchy patrons. There are thick layers of dust covering the rickity ceiling fans, giving Katsuki the impression that the place doesn't get cleaned properly all that often. The florescent lights flicker overhead—a warning that they'll be rather useless soon.

The stage doesn't at all look safe enough to be standing on, yet alone dancing. 

He thinks to himself that perhaps most regular joints are like this and he's just spoiled himself by working at Midnight's for so long. It was the first and only club he'd worked at since he'd turned sixteen, so he's inclined to believe that his opinions are rather biased.

Though, what catches his attention the most are the dancers. 

They're female. 

All of them. 

This place doesn't seem to cater to a very wide audience. He's curious as to how Shota's plan would work considering this—if it would even work at all. 

That is...until he witnesses the number one reason as to why this place actually has such shitty clientele. Putting it plainly? 

These girls are bottom tier dancers.

And it would seem that the club owner—Gary—knows it very well, as he'd been left speechless by Katsuki's audition and incredibly eager to hire him without much coaxing on Shota's behalf. They'd given him some half-assed story about Katsuki being a runaway and needing a job to help pay his way through school that Gary, admittedly, didn't seem to give a single shit about. All that he cared about was how much money Katsuki would be able to make him tonight.  

Fat, greedy fucker. 

"Not bad, kid. Not fuckin' bad at all." He breathes, eyes raking Katsuki's half naked body as a giddy grin spreads across his greasy, ruddy face. 

Katsuki can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. 

"You put a little, ah, extra effort in and we're gonna turn you into a star...if you catch my drift." 

Gross. 

"I'm not here to be a star. I'm here to get paid." Katsuki clarifies, his stomach curling uncomfortably as Gary bites into his lip and grunts at him. "And paid you will be, darlin'. What's your name?" 

"Kat." 

"Cute fuckin' name. Hella easy on the eyes. Absolutely bangin' body. Feisty—I like it. Fuck it, you're hired." 

"As if you had a better option. In comparison to the rest of these butter-faced bitches, I'm the best chance you've got of makin' a fuckin' profit in this shithole." 

Gary doesn't have a response for that. Katsuki is glad that he's finally decided to shut the fuck up. 

"I'll pay the kid's house fee for the night if you're actually gonna take him. Go easy on him; he's a good kid." Shota chimes for the first time since they arrived. Gary seems to have forgotten the scruffy man had even been present among them, jumping a bit upon hearing him speak once more. He aggressively clears his throat, checking the time for no apparent reason at all. 

"A-Ah, right. Yeah, sure." He agrees, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I got some folks to entertain. Make sure these girls ain't costing me more money than they're making me, yeah? Show the kid back to his dressing room, would ya? Best to keep him separated from the others. Wouldn't want a cat fight breakin' out over clientele." 

Shota nods but Gary lingers a bit longer, blatantly eyeing Katsuki with the beady little orbs in his head. Katsuki is beginning to get annoyed. 

"What?" 

"You're not going to say thank you?" 

His eyes narrow dangerously. 

"...for fucking what ?" 

Gary snickers. "For taking you in, little Kat. I mean, honestly, I'm savin' your life here. Show a little gratitude." 

Is this fucker serious ? If anyone should be showing gratitude, it should be him. He's gonna get to see this place thrive for the first time in it's miserable existence all because Katsuki is offering his services. A fucker like Gary would be lucky for someone like Katsuki to even breathe in his direction. 

He's got half a mind to go upside his shiny ass head, but a knowing look from Shota keeps him in check. 

He can't wait for Hitoshi to inevitably break this asshole's kneecaps. 

Instead, he swallows his bruised pride and thanks him through gritted teeth. 

At least, with that, Gary finally fucks off. 

Katsuki waits until his back is turned to flip him off with a roll of his eyes, Shota quite literally patting him on the back for a job well done. "I know that was difficult for you, but you've done well. Keep it up and you'll make our job here tonight fairly easy." He says, leading him out into the busy corridor to escort him to what Katsuki assumes will be his dressing room tonight. He keeps his voice low in case there are prying ears, but for the most part the hall is only occupied by a few plain looking gals who can barely walk in those raggedy ass shoes that they're wearing. 

They seem rather intimidated to see him there, dressed in strappy lace and body glitter. 

"Right. What's my job here, again?" 

Shota remains silent as they pass through a group of girls on their way to the front, making sure they're out of ear shot before he continues. 

"Your target is a guy named Kurono. You'll know him when you see him; he's always wearing that stupid fucking white trench coat. He likes to think he's hard to impress but you're just his type so you won't have to try hard. Get his attention." 

"And then?" 

"Stall. We're in enemy territory right now and he's the one calling shots without Chisaki around. Give Hitoshi and I time to discreetly diminish their numbers and block communications. We'll come in to handle the rest once that's done. Think you can handle that?" 

"I think you know I can." 

Shota chuckles, lifting a hand to fondly ruffle at Katsuki's unruly hair. 

"Never change, Katsuki." 

He sounds so much like a proud father. Katsuki tries and fails to hide the smile he's wearing. 

"I won't." 

#

Damn did it feel good to dance again. 

Katsuki's never felt more at home than he did on a pole, dancing for a bunch of drunk and sweaty strangers for their hard earned cash. He could tell that Shota was having a good laugh watching him finesse those poor losers out of their mortgage, watching him from the bar. 

The raven vaguely motions to a man ahead of him that's wearing a white trench coat—their target. 

Hari Kurono. 

He's a lot younger than what Katsuki expected him to be—a suggestively handsome man. He seems fairly disinterested in the dancers and they seem to know very well that he's got no intention of paying them any mind; they're avoiding him altogether. One would argue but it's simply because he doesn't fancy this sort of setting—that clubs aren't his scene—but Katsuki knows better. Shouto's told him about guys like these before. 

Those infamous straight guys who just so happen to love fucking the everloving shit out of cute little bottom boys. 

He's closeted—definitely on the down-low. 

Every now and again, Katsuki finds him stealing glances in his direction. Very subtle, but the unbridled heat is definitely there. This is gonna make his job much easier. 

He's just gotta play this shit up as far as he can take it. 

The walk over to the booth that he's sitting in is as slow and as sensual as Katsuki can make it, hips swaying from side to side in with every tastefully exaggerated twist of his hips. It's hard for Kurono to pretend to ignore him now. 

Especially when Katsuki bravely sits his bare ass down in his lap. 

There's a moment of deja vu that almost makes Katsuki laugh.

Kurono seems rather cowed by Katsuki's brazen arrogance but he doesn't shove him off the way that Katsuki half expects him to. He does, however, give him a rather sharp look. Katsuki gives him a devious little smirk in return. "What're you sippin' on, baby? Doesn't seem like it's doin' much to help you relax." He says, plucking the half empty flute of champagne from Kurono's hand and sliding it onto the table. As displeased as he seems, he doesn't complain—not even as Katsuki slides his hand into the opening of the pristine coat, acrylic nails dragging over the fabric of the dress shirt that Kurono is wearing. 

"...I'm not here to relax." Is the only thing he says after a while of allowing Katsuki to sit there on his thigh. The other dancers are giving them odd stares. 

The blonde plays up his cutesy, fake giggle.

"You're at a strip club full of babes and you're not here to relax?" He parrots as if he's in disbelief. 

"Babes? You consider these gravel-faced gutter girls babes ?" 

"We're not your type then?" 

"They absolutely are not. "

His choice of wording opens the opportunity for Katsuki to go for the kill. 

"They aren't?" 

"That's what I said, is it not?" 

Katsuki leans into him, nosing against Kurono's jaw. 

"Mm. What's that mean for me, then, baby? Does that mean I get a chance with you?" 

A hand tightly grips at Katsuki's bare ass so abruptly that he has to mask his startled jump with a giggle. 

"Damn, babe, your hands are cold!" He forces out as best he can to keep himself from screaming fuck off the way that he wants to. He has to remember that he's doing this for Hitoshi—doing this so that they can finish this shit once and for all and finally start living a normal life together. 

Kurono uses that hand to pull Katsuki impossibly close, lips brushing against the dancer's double pierced ears. 

"Take me back to your room and help me warm them between your thighs." 

Well. 

It would seem that they're getting right to it then. Katsuki knew it would be easy but fuck. 

"That's gonna cost you a little more." 

"Is it, now?" 

"Of course. Take a look at who you're talkin' to, baby. I'm not like these other cookie-faced bitches; I'm worth a pretty fuckin' penny. Now if you're not willing to pay the fee, I don't mind doin' you a favor and fuckin' off but the way your dick is jabbing me in the thigh tells me you want me that badly. Am I wrong?" 

Kurono's gaze flickers from Katsuki's lips down to his golden-glittered thighs. 

"No, I suppose you aren't. How much?" 

Katsuki walks his fingers up Kurono's chest until they reach his jaw. He can feel the bit of stubble growing there beneath the pads of his fingertips. 

"Mm. For you, sugar? Five hundred to get me down to my stilettos and shake this ass for you." 

He suspects a place like this has fairly cheap rates since their entertainment selection is rather sparse in terms of options so his expectations for Kurono's reactions are set rather low. He's mildly surprised when the man seems to pause and consider him. 

"Mm. And how much to have you sit on my face when you're done?" 

Have any of these fuckers ever heard of subtlety? Of having a little more tact or finesse? Don't any of these bastards have any fucking shame ?

"That's a pretty expensive request, honey." 

"Money is not an important factor to me. I want to see what you look like when you're about to cum—gorgeous as you are in a place like this. We don't see very many angels of your caliber around these parts." 

Angels? 

"Oh, baby. You're gonna find out rather quickly that I'm not as much of an angel as you think I am." It comes flirtatiously and teasingly. Kurono hasn't the slightest idea that Katsuki is hinting at his inevitable death before the night is over. 

Poor, unsuspecting fucking moron.

"Alright. An extra six hundred for every ten minutes it takes for you to make me cum. Five hundred for every hour of my time." He plays along, biting into his lip. They're outrages rates. Surely Kurono would try to bargain with him—or even more so just tell him to fuck off—right? 

"That's more than reasonable enough for a beauty like yourself." 

Is he for real? 

"I want it up front." 

"Alright. One thousand and one hundred dollars up front." 

This has to be a joke. He's obviously fucking with him. 

"You think you're gonna make me cum in ten minutes?" Katsuki snorts and Kurono seems to take that personally. "I could show you better than I could tell you. Quit your stalling and take me to your room. You'll be begging for me soon enough." 

As if he's going to make it that far. 

Katsuki silently stands from Kurono's lap, taking the man's sweaty hand in his own to lead the stuffy man towards the private rooms. He feels as though he's been stalling for quite a while but there still hadn't been any sign of Hitoshi so he'll have to drag out his dance a bit longer than anticipated.

He can't wait to see the look on Kurono's face when he ends up nose deep into the barrel of Hitoshi's gun and not Katsuki's ass. 

Katsuki thinks he deserved an Oscar, at least.

Notes:

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It was a bit all over the place ❤️

Chapter 20: Gutter Trash

Summary:

"Gary wasn't even on our kill list."

"Really? You know, I really could've sworn that he was. How unfortunate."

"You're full of shit. I told you twice that he wasn't, you brat."

Hitoshi turns on his father with a heavy sigh of annoyance. "Oh fuckin' well. What am I supposed to do? Un-dead the fat, greedy fucker?"

"Don't you think that you maybe went a little overboard? Just a bit?" 

Hitoshi barely even offers his father a pause as he hauls the rather heavy body up from the dirty, filthy alleyway to toss it into the nearby dumpster. It already smells like a fucking septic tank; what's one more sack of shit to the pile? 

"As opposed to what? Splattering his fucking brains everywhere with my gun? I thought that we were supposed to be all inconspicuous and shit about this." He counters, face scrunching in disgust as the dumpster lid slams shut and blows a gust of smelly wind their way. Shota is, more or less, amused with his son's lax and casual tone. 

"Gary wasn't even on our kill list." 

"Really? You know, I really could've sworn that he was. How unfortunate." 

"You're full of shit. I told you twice that he wasn't, you brat." 

Hitoshi turns on his father with a heavy sigh of annoyance. "Oh fuckin' well. What am I supposed to do? Un-dead the fat, greedy fucker?" 

"All I'm saying is that you didn't have to un-alive him in the first place. That's gonna be really suspicious when the rest of the Hassaikai come back here looking to do business with him." Shota points and Hitoshi, like an unruly teenager, just shrugs at him again. "Not my problem. This greasy fucker had beef with more than just me or the league—no telling how many of these girl's he's trickin' out on somebody else's block. He won't be missed." He says, grimacing at the tuft of hair attached to his crowbar by bits of flesh and blood. He tosses it, too, into the dumpster and plucks his gloves from his hands to burn once they've finished with the task at hand. "Besides, crackin' his head like a Wonderball was way more satisfying than just shooting him between those beady ass eyes. Maybe, while he's burning in hell, he'll have time to reflect on why he ever thought it was a good idea to even insinuate that he'd put his craggy cock anywhere near my Kitten." 

"Oh, so that's why he's dead." 

"I like the term 'un-alive' so much better. Sounds way more badass." 

"What are you, twelve?" 

"No, apparently I'm just cooler than your lame ass. Who's next? I'm running outta places to put these bodies." 

He's ended seven lives so far, a feeling of unbridled satisfaction blooming within himself as he's managed to do so without ever being seen. He does take pride in his work, after all, no matter how unethical it may be. 

One murder weapon. 

No prints. 

Just a normal Thursday night for him.

"All that's left is Kurono, now that his backup has all been disposed of and the landlines have been cut."

A devious grin curls at Hitoshi's lips. 

"Bout time we got to the main event. I've been itching to make this fucker deep throat the barrel of my pistol all night long." It's only a partial lie. He hadn't actually become so enthusiastic about murdering Kurono until he'd made the grave mistake of propositioning Katsuki with the exchange of sex for money. For fuck's sake—he's a stripper , not a goddamn prostitute. 

And to think an ugly bastard like him was even in the same league as an absolute babe like Katsuki? 

Laughable. 

Nobody's sticking their dick, tongue or fingers in his boyfriend but him. 

Maybe Hitoshi just has to cut them all off to show him.

The smile on Shota's face mirrors Hitoshi's own. 

"You've lost it."

"Lost what?" 

"Your mind." 

A sardonic huff. 

"Not like I ever had it to begin with. C'mon, let's get a move on. Tryna be done with this shit by Sunday; I need some fuckin' sleep." 

#

Things are taking Hitoshi a bit longer than Katsuki anticipated. He's already down to his stilettos, completely naked and sweating off his body glitter as the next song begins to play. Kurono seemed to have been sated with Katsuki's dancing and parading around but it's obvious that he's quickly becoming impatient, drinking down the last of whatever is in his glass before he tosses it onto the table nearby where it slowly rolls toward the edge. It falls without shattering, but Katsuki can still sense the aggression behind the action itself. 

He's absolutely wasted. 

"C'mere…" he slurs and Katsuki feels his skin begin to crawl. It takes an immense amount of effort not to pull a face at him as he steps down from the dancing platform and away from the pole. He doesn't bother keeping up his sultry act, rolling his eyes as he approaches Kurono with his arms folded across his chest. 

"What?" 

He takes a moment to drag his eyes over Katsuki's nude and sweat slicked form. 

"Sit in daddy's lap, baby." 

"Uh, no. Your dick's stiff as a fucking board. And you're not my fuckin' daddy—" 

A wide hand abruptly grabs him by the hips and he's manhandled into Kurono's lap by force, body going stiff when he feels the man's hard, clothed cock pressed between his ass cheeks. 

"See how easy that was?" He whispers in Katsuki's ear, teeth nipping at the nape of his neck as he grinds up against him. Katsuki feels his stomach turn and tries to break away, swinging at him only for Kurono to overpower him quite easily.

And smack the everloving fuck out of him. 

"Sit fucking still, you pretty little slut. I'm not in the mood to chase you." 

It hurts, the taste of iron flooding Katsuki's mouth. He realizes that Kurono has split his lip. 

He snarls at him, cutting through him with a glare. 

"You're gonna pay for that, fucker. " 

"I've already told you that money is not an issue for me." 

The feeling of cold metal against Kurono's temple silences him rather effectively.

"Oh, no, buddy. You've thrown your money around enough. I think I'll take the payment for this particular transgression right out of your ass. Or...you know. Blow it out of the back of your skull with a shit ton of lead." It's Hitoshi, Katsuki realizes upon hearing his voice. 

He's never felt so relieved. 

"Shooting you doesn't sound nearly as fun as shoving a crowbar up your ass. But since you seem to enjoy taking little cuties against their will, sodomy is probably right up your alley, huh? How far do you think I could shove it up there before it skewers you and you die? Or would shooting you in the dick be better? What do you think...huh? Kurono?" 

Kurono is petrified, anxiously swallowing around a lump in his throat. He doesn't dare to move.

Hitoshi bristles at him, already bored.

"Kat. You can get up, baby. This fuckin' bitch isn't gonna try anything else." He assures and Katsuki is, in fact, able to snatch his wrists out of Kurono's grasp and remove himself from his lap. 

He smiles when he sees Shota standing nearby with a robe for him. 

"Thank you." He mumbles and Shota hums, helping him put it on before he offers him a pat to the back. "You did a damn good job, kiddo. Nice work." 

"But we're never doing this again. If I wouldn't have gotten here in time, there's no telling what these sleazy fucker would have done. We're not using you as bait anymore." 

Katsuki slumps over in a bit of a pout. 

"Jeez, not even a 'thank you' ?" 

"No. I didn't agree to this plan in the first place; I'm not gonna thank you for putting yourself in danger." 

"But it worked, didn't it?" 

Hitoshi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. 

"Kitten, can we talk about this later? Daddy's tryna work here, baby." 

"Fucking fine, whatever." 

"Good boy. C'mere, gimme some love." 

Kurono seems utterly confused about what's happening, even more so when Katsuki does strut his way over and stands on the tips of his stilettos to press a kiss up against Hitoshi's lips. The mercenary pulls away with a chuckle, lightly clapping the blonde on the backside as he turns him in the opposite direction. 

"That's my boy. He pay you?" 

"Mhm." 

"Good. Grab your clothes and your cash; I need you to wait out in the car with dad." 

"Okay. You're gonna be okay?" 

"Don't worry about me, baby, I'll be right behind you. Go on, I'll be quick." 

Katsuki does as he's told, not even bothering to glance back in Kurono's direction. Shota follows behind him—assurance that Katsuki will be safe in Hitoshi's short absence. 

"Ten minutes, kid. Don't drag this out or I'm coming back in here for you." 

It's then that Kurono realizes what fate has decided for him. 

His eyes dart around the room for his gun—his phone, at the very least—but his coat is draped across a chair on the far side of the room. 

He's doomed himself.

He's about to try and dive for it when the gun that Hitoshi is holding harshly collides with the side of his head. 

It takes a moment to register that he's been struck, ear ringing and barely able to continue sitting upright due to the immense amount of pain blooming out from the back of his skull. 

"That was for bruising my baby's pretty face. He worked really hard to give you a quality performance, you know." The lilac-haired man says with a casual air about him, rounding the sofa to sit down on the table in front of where Kurono is slumped. 

Kurono just stares at him, dazed. 

Hitoshi snorts, pressing the gun against Kurono's forehead and using it to push him back into a sitting position. 

"Your cash. Where do you keep it? My baby deserves a bonus after taking a hit like that, don't you think?" 

Is that what this is about? Money? 

Kurono nods, though he regrets it the moment his headache hits him full force. He groans in pain but doesn't dare lift a hand to nurse himself. 

Any sudden movements could get him killed. 

"...coat." 

"Mhm. And your gun? Phone?" 

"...coat." 

"Your phone have a lock code on it?"

Kurono huffs out a cynical laugh. 

"No." 

Hitoshi clicks his tongue, mocking. 

"Good for me. Pretty damn bad for you, buddy." He chuckles and Kurono can visibly see him taking his weapon off of safety. 

"We need to have a little talk about your pal Chisaki. Suppose I should disclose that you're gonna die regardless of what transpires here between us tonight. Just don't make this any harder than it has to be." 

Hitoshi still has eight minutes to make this as painful as possible.

Chapter 21: A Little Birdie Once Told Me

Summary:

"Ten minutes wasn't enough time to distribute proper atonement and retribution. Shoving the length of this crowbar up his ass took a considerable amount of time."

"That's disgusting." Katsuki grimaces.

"You're telling me. Whoever has to clean up that mess come morning is gonna be incredibly pissed."

Notes:

Hi.

It's been like, what? 50 years?

Anyway, here's an update for you guys. I hope you enjoy!

"I told you ten minutes, you fucking brat." 

Hitoshi offers his father little more than a grunt and an exhausted shrug of his shoulders as he comes meandering out of the club's back door, a dripping crowbar in one blood-soaked hand. He doesn't seem any worse for wear, at least—though he could probably stand to get a few hours of decent sleep. 

"Ten minutes wasn't enough time to distribute proper atonement and retribution. Shoving the length of this crowbar up his ass took a considerable amount of time." 

"That's disgusting." Katsuki grimaces. 

"You're telling me. Whoever has to clean up that mess come morning is gonna be incredibly pissed." The mercenary snickers to himself, haphazardly tossing the soiled crowbar into the nearby dumpster. "I think we can call it quits for the night. I don't like that we used Katsuki as bait to get it done but the objective has been completed." 

Katsuki sighs, still wrapped in the robe that Shota had gifted him but otherwise still very naked and beginning to get very cold.

"You're really not gonna admit that I did an amazing job tonight? Not even a high five?" 

"Nope." 

"Tch. Fucking why not? I did literally everything right, why are you being so pissy?" 

"Because, my innocent little kitten," the older man begins matter-of-factly. "I have told you once before that I didn't want you getting involved in all of this from the jump. If I let you believe that what you did tonight was okay at all, then you'll wanna tag your little ass along for all of my other jobs. The goal is to be able to quit, not to drag you into it." He pokes Katsuki's forehead with his clean hand, fully expecting the annoyed huff that he receives in response. "I'm thankful that things worked out because you helped. It means that we can get this over with a lot faster—which I'm looking forward to. But I don't like the idea of you getting corrupted by all of this. And I sure as shit don't want you in any position to be badly injured or killed." 

"I'm a stripper, Hitoshi. I get naked and dance on horny men's laps for a living. Why do you insist on treating me like a baby?" 

"Because you are a baby. My baby. And bouncing your little tatas around is nowhere near the equivalent of murdering people for sometimes no reason at all." 

"But—" 

"I said no. I'm not gonna repeat myself again and this isn't up for discussion. You understand?" Hitoshi snaps tightly, eyes narrowed down at Katsuki in a way that one might reprimand a pouting child. It's obvious the conversation is starting to piss him off but Katsuki can't help but feel a little bit…

...tingly…

When his lover speaks to him that way. He gazes up into those irate eyes, though Hitoshi's lips do a grand job at catching his interest instead. He just stands there, jaw slightly agape as Hitoshi stares down at him. 

Katsuki doesn't answer right away and it only seems to fuel Hitoshi's mild irritation. Much to Katsuki's surprise, however, he doesn't yell or scream or grab and shake him like Izuku might do when he's angry. Instead, he gently reaches out to take Katsuki's jaw in the calloused tips of his fingers to redirect Katsuki's gaze. He's not glaring or scowling when their eyes meet, but it's fairly easy to tell that he's exasperated with him. 

"I asked you a question, baby. Do you understand?" 

Katsuki nods dumbly and Hitoshi's grip tightens to a light squeeze. 

"Words, honey. Daddy needs to understand that you're not gonna bring this up again."

Katsuki's pout comes back in full effect. 

"Fine. Yes. I understand. I won't bring it up again."

"Okay. Good. You know that I'm only doing this because I love you and I want to protect you?" 

"Yes, I know. I'll be good—promise." 

Hitoshi smiles. 

"That's my Kitty Kat. Gimme them lips." 

Katsuki stands on his toes, pouty lips attempting to meet Hitoshi's halfway. The older man is generous enough to lean down and give him what he wants, whispering soft praises against his lips. 

"Cute. But we kinda just killed a bunch of guys so maybe we shouldn't stand here while you two make out in this alleyway?" Shota interrupts in a flat, bored tone. 

"Alright, alright. Keep your fuckin' pants on." Hitoshi relents, leading the way back to the car that they'd parked in the back of the alleyway. The lack of lighting had made it a rather convenient hiding place—completely shrouded in shadows. Hitoshi mutely thinks to himself that everything had been conveniently easy for them this time around. He'd usually feel some sort of trepidation or skepticism about it, as he'd been doing this job long enough to know that the act of dissembling an empire should be a lot more difficult than this. 

And it probably would be if Chisaki didn't have a bunch of fucking morons in his ranks. 

He opens the car door for Katsuki and waits for him to climb into the backseat before tossing his father the keys. 

"I did all of the work tonight; you drive." 

Shota scoffs. "I'm sorry, you say that like this is my job to be doing in the first place. I'm just here for backup. I'm not even getting paid for this." 

"Is that your way of telling me that you want a cut? I mean, that's fine but you don't have to whine about it." 

"Keep that up and you're walking." 

"I've been kicked out of better places." 

"This is your car." 

"I've been kicked out of better places." 

"Hi, still naked and it's kinda chilly out here. Can we get a fuckin' move on?" Katsuki chimes in, which seems to be a lot more effective than allowing both father and son to argue over who was driving and who wasn't. 

Katsuki feels as though he should be concerned by the fact that he's starting to become desensitized by this sort of thing. If Hitoshi's goal was to keep Katsuki unaffected by the lifestyle of a mercenary, then he may already be too late. 

# 

"Those are pretty bad for you, you know." 

Izuku doesn't bother offering his unwanted guest even a flicker of his eyes in greeting, mildly annoyed at having his late night smoke interrupted without an appointment. He's even more annoyed by the fact that he was fully expecting his visitor, as he tends to show up when Izuku wants to be left alone the most. He exhales a lung into the cool night air from where he's sitting, sprawled out in the chair on his balcony.

Is a moment's peace really too much to ask?

"Yes. And oddly enough, it's still not nearly as bad for my health as you are. If you care so much, do me the courtesy of fucking right off. Please and thanks." 

A laugh. Of course, it's never that easy. 

"Somebody's grumpy. And here I was hoping you'd be happy to see me after all this time." 

Izuku sighs heavily and flicks his unfinished cigarette over the edge of the balcony. 

"What do you want, Keigo? Hurry it the fuck up; I'm in a bad mood and I don't have time for any of your bullshit." 

The blonde grins at him and Izuku has a sinking suspicion that he gets more enjoyment out of irritating him that he lets on, plopping down into the seat across from Izuku and propping his booted feet up on the nearby coffee table which does a rather effective job at pissing Izuku off even more. Doesn't he know how expensive that fucking furniture is? How the fuck did he even get up here?!

"You're always in a bad mood these days." 

"I wonder why that is." The freckled man days sardonically, that dry expression plastered to his face. "Listen. If you don't have any reason to be here then leave. I meant it when I said that I wasn't going to entertain any of your fuckery. Don't make me have to be the one to clip your wings, little bird." 

Keigo doesn't even flinch. 

"Spoken like a true mob boss. I guarantee you that I've come with nothing but good intentions, though. I've got some information for you that you might wanna hear—" 

"Then get on with it. I'd like for you to fuck off as soon as humanly possible so I can enjoy the rest of my evening in peace." 

This time, it's Keigo that sighs at Izuku's crabby mood as he realizes that Izuku really isn't going to play along and give him any of those delicious reactions that he wants. And here he thought that he'd be able to have a bit of fun at Izuku's expense. 

Oh well. He's sure that the handsome payment that he'll receive for all of his hard work will keep his boredom in check just fine.  

"Whatever you say, guy. Where should I start first?" 

Izuku sits upright in his seat now that he's sure they'll be getting down to business. 

"Let's start with that information I asked you to find about Kacchan." He points and Keigo quirks a brow at him in amusement. "Katsuki Bakugou, right? You call him Kacchan ? I mean, that's incredibly fitting, actually, and it's a pretty cute nickna—" 

"My patience is wearing thin, Keigo."

"Right, right, I forgot about that! Well, you were only able to tell me his parents' names so getting the info that you needed was really fuckin' hard. I wasn't able to find out where his mother was born, but I was able to find out that she's as close to perfection within that bloodline as it gets. Her parents are no longer living and she married outside of her clan so what's left of the bloodline is pretty diluted. Still, it's pure enough for him to be worth more than my ass and your ass put together. I mean serious payout." 

"And Chisaki probably knows that." Izuku hums to himself thoughtfully. "If you were to put a number on the estimated price of what he's worth?" 

"Raw? I'd say 900,000." 

Izuku raises a skeptical brow. 

"900,000 yen? That's small change—" 

"No. 900,000 U.S dollars." 

The greenette's mouth snaps shut, leaning back in his chair as his brows shoot right up into his hairline. 

"$900,000?!" 

"$900,000." 

"Holy shit. And I just let that fucking idiot Shinsou run off with him like that!" 

"Well, we both know how skilled and experienced Shinsou actually is so I don't doubt for a second that he knows just how much money he's hauling around." 

"But if he was actually planning on selling him to Chisaki then why would he still be keeping Kacchan around for so long? If it was a double cross, he could have done it already." 

Anyone with half a brain would have collected that check up front, actually. 

Keigo seems to take this into consideration. "That's a good question. At first I theorized that he was just playing the long game here. Collect the bounty for Chisaki's head and for taking out the Shie Hassaikai before turning Katsuki in for three huge lump sums. He'll never have to work again." 

"If that's the case then I have bigger problems than what I initially assumed I did." Izuku sighs. This was possibly more pressing than digging a traitor out of his flock and disposing of them. 

He can't let that happen. 

"You said theorized. Any reason you think your theory is wrong?" 

Keigo smiles, sheepishly scratching at his jaw. 

"Only one small reason. It's just...that they seem like they're really in love. I dunno if this Shinsou is just a really good actor or—"

"You found them, then?" 

"I did. He's currently in Nagoya from what I can tell. Not sure of what he's planning but whatever it is, he's doin' it with some hustle about 'em. Tryna get this over with." 

"For once, that's something that I can agree with him on. This has been dragging on for far too long." Izuku muses aloud. "I'm curious to see what it is that he does to get rid of Chisaki and his crackhouse circus of fuckheads." If anything, Izuku thinks that his best option is to stay out of the way and allow Hitoshi to carry on. Best case scenario, the bastard actually manages to kill them all and takes care of one of the biggest thorns Izuku's ever had in his side. The Hassaikai have been causing trouble for them since before Izuku was even born—a rivalry that surpassed his father's death and eventually passed on to him. He imagined that it was the same for Chisaki, fighting a war that was started by their founders without ever knowing what they were fighting for. It's one of the most relevant reasons for Izuku to have gone into business with them to begin with—extending an olive branch of sorts. And what did Chisaki do? 

Shit on his kindness. 

Izuku will only be made a fool of once. 

"Oi, Midoriya-kun." 

"Hm?" 

"Katsuki Bakugou's parents are still alive but...while I was doing some light research with public records I couldn't help but notice that it was your family that raised him. I mean, your parents legally adopted him, right?" Keigo prompts, a rather condescending tone of accusation hidden underneath the blonde's friendly exterior. Izuku nods in response, though he doesn't really understand what Keigo is getting at. What's this got to do with anything? 

"Yeah. See, the circumstances of his adoption were all a little bit too coincidental and a lot of pieces to the little puzzle in my head kinda started to click, you know? I just couldn't really help but wonder if...maybe Yagi-san purchased Katsuki from his biological parents all those years ago." The blonde presses and like a switch, Izuku's irritation spikes ten fold. His gaze narrows in warning but Keigo, like always, tends to ignore every single boundary that he comes across. 

"What?" 

Keigo shrugs. "I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? Katsuki's parents gave him up seemingly out of the blue and then dropped from the face of the planet. Maybe like they were paid to? And he probably didn't pay anything near what the boy is actually worth. You understood the resale value, though. It's a little suspicious on your part as well but it's a smart move. You literally own this kid and you've actually allowed him to believe that he's been making decisions of his own free will! Like you haven't been the one controlling every aspect of his life up until now. Must be weird for you to not have your pet aro—" 

"I advise that you choose your next words wisely. You step out of line even once and I'll be painting the walls with you." 

Keigo holds up his hands in surrender with a sheepish laugh. He's bold. But he's not dumb enough to think he could dodge a bullet from where he's sitting and he surely understands that he's little more than a fish in a lion's den. 

He withdraws. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Jeez, lighten up a little bit." 

"I can always hire another informant." 

"Let's not get too hasty here, big guy. I still got one more juicy lil tidbit for you and then I'll be outta your hair." The older man continues, carrying the conversation along with a wink. He leans forward, cupping a hand over his mouth as he looks both ways. It's a show of coyness, as if he's got a secret to tell that he really shouldn't be.

Izuku mutely thinks of just shooting him anyway but what Keigo says next makes Izuku's blood run cold. 

"That traitor of yours? I don't wanna cause too much trouble but you should probably be keeping better tabs on your girlfriend~" 

Chapter 22: Fire Meet Gasoline

Summary:

Too bad the CIA doesn't train you for that.

Seriously, who gives a fuck about being able to hold your breath underwater for three minutes? Teaching him how to get rid of a boner with sheer willpower alone would have been much more useful.

He'd be invincible.

Notes:

Smut warning.

Hitoshi has always been a tad bit…

Different. 

Not quirky or special or even a little eccentric.

Just...different.

Or, at least, that's the sort of nonsense that his father used to feed him in his younger years—a rather piss-poor attempt at making Hitoshi feel less shitty about being made a social leper by the neighbors and their equally condescending children. He remembers how jarring it was to have them scream and run the other way whenever they saw him coming. He remembers how their parents would quickly grab their hands and shuffle back to the safety of their cars and homes. 

He remembers the distinct sound of people locking their car doors whenever he'd walk past them. 

He remembers—vividly—how he'd come limping home from grade school with a black eye and a busted lip, having to explain to his father that he'd been jumped on the way home by a group of junior high students and that he never wanted to leave his room again. 

He remembers that Shota had allowed him to cry that time—and crying was almost never allowed. 

He didn't understand it back then—the fleeting moment of compassion that his father had granted by listening to him bawl his broken heart out as he'd checked his frail and scrawny body for any injuries that may have caused him any serious damage. He didn't fuss or lecture him about being a pushover like he usually did. He didn't ignore him to tend to his stupid fucking guns. 

He listened. 

And then—for the first time—he reached out to embrace his son. 

Hitoshi will never forget the look of unbridled guilt plastered to his father's face. 

"Listen," he'd said. "You and I are different from other people, Hitoshi. We carry certain burdens that others may never understand. And because we are different, we can never be a part of their world. It's our responsibility to make sure that they can never become a part of ours. Not only to protect them, but to protect ourselves. Do you understand?" 

Hitoshi remembers nodding his head as if he did but in reality, he was devastated. Confused. Why did things have to be that way? And did they really have to be this way forever? 

It was probably the absolute most pitiful that Hitoshi had been in his entire life, though he's almost certain that it was also the strongest. He survived. And even though it landed him in the absolute shitshow that he's in right now, he's grateful that his father had the strength to tell him such wisdom while he was still young. 

Without it, he'd have given up years ago. 

Shota had only been trying to protect him in the best way that he knew how. Help him grow a tougher skin. Teach him skills that would get him into places that having friends wouldn't. He survived because his father was there. 

He's grateful. 

And, in hindsight, he could understand why all of the neighbors were so wary of him. Nobody wants their kid to be friends with the brat that killed his own mom. 

But he digresses.

The point is that he's held on to the idea that he was simply just different for as long as he could remember. 

His quick-witted and cunning nature. 

His ability to adjust and adapt to almost any situation. 

His seemingly innate talent for murder. 

The CIA had declared him a prodigy by the age of seventeen and Hitoshi was more than willing to simply go along for the ride. 

As he's gotten older, however, he's begun to accept that the term 'different' may just be his father's roundabout way of saying that Hiroshi is, in fact, a fucking psychopath. 

And maybe a little bit of a narcissist to boot. 

[Alright, fine. He's a massive narc. Quit typing, you snarky little fucks.]

The only thing that he's still unsure of is whether or not he has always been this way or if he's simply grown to be this way after the several years he's spent being an indiscriminate executioner for hire. His motivation for taking jobs became less and less about the money and more about how much he could make his targets beg for mercy before he granted them release in the form of glorious bloodshed. 

It got his heart racing just thinking about it. 

He's not an inherently evil bastard—he swears. In fact, he's learned that he cannot bring himself to knowingly harm an innocent person, no matter how hard he tries. He supposes that the policy of anonymity he's given to his clients has helped with relinquishing any sort of guilt he could have possibly managed to muster up about doing his job. No details. Just a name and a face to put it to. Typically corrupt politicians and government officials or—on occasion—their cheating wives or mistresses. He's found some solace in that, at the very least. 

No, this feeling was derived from something else entirely—drunk on the feeling of power. 

The act of playing God. 

He's willing to admit that his arrogance is unattractively grotesque. He chooses who lives and who dies by his hand—and as far as he knows, he's never allowed any of them to live. The adrenaline rush that he receives whenever he nails a target is even better than snorting a line of coke from a hooker's ass cheeks—take his word for it. 

A sparking and tingling type of euphoric rush. 

The feeling of being invincible. 

…

Yup. 

Complete fucking psychopath. 

That being said, it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him that after pulling off a job like the one he'd just done tonight, he'd be rolling around on the pillowy tits of cloud nine.

And, as a result of such, he's got the most inconvenient boner in the entirety of his already unfortunate life.

Inconvenient, mostly, because his cute boyfriend was already fast asleep. 

And unfortunate, ironically, because that exact same cutie is pressed flush against Hitoshi's raging erection. 

His initial plan was simply to ignore it. He's no stranger to enduring discomfort, having been trained by the CIA in his earlier years of contracting to be able to withstand most common forms of torture. If he could endure having his fingernails ripped off for the sake of keeping the government's dirty secrets, then surely he could endure a persistent erection for the sake of letting Katsuki get a decent night's rest before they're on the road again. 

Ideally. 

It's a bit more difficult when Katsuki keeps squirming, inadvertently grinding and brushing against him as he shifts with a groggy groan. Hitoshi is sweating by now, more annoyed than anything else that he's been staring at the ceiling for the latter half of two hours instead of simply just going to fucking sleep. 

Too bad the CIA doesn't train you for that. 

Seriously, who gives a fuck about being able to hold your breath underwater for three minutes? Teaching him how to get rid of a boner with sheer willpower alone would have been much more useful. 

He'd be invincible. 

He sighs, cursing under his breath with a hiss as Katsuki's thigh rubs against his aching manhood once more. 

"Fuuuuuck—" 

His hands grip at Katsuki's slim waist in an attempt to get him to hold still, deciding midway through that he'd just have to take his chances with sliding Katsuki onto the bed and making a run for the bathroom to try and rub one out but the leg thrown around his waist doesn't seem to want to be removed. 

Katsuki stirs from his rest with a groggy groan. 

"Mmmf. What're ya doin', babe?" He rubs at his eyes, trailing off into a tired yawn. "Hell you tryna run off to?"

"Nowhere, baby. Go back to bed; I'm just going to the bathroom." He reassured him, hoping that Katsuki would relax enough for him to gently slide free but the blonde doesn't budge even a little as he tries again. He hears Katsuki click his tongue at him and a short moment passes before he raises up just enough to look down at him with squinted eyes of sleepy skepticism. 

"Seriously? You're not 'bout to just leave me in bed to go run off and do another job?" 

"No, baby. I promised that I wouldn't keep secrets like that anymore, remember? Besides, there's nothing more I'd rather be doin' than layin' up and cuddling with you." 

Katsuki's head drops back down against Hitoshi's chest.

"Then why are you leaving me?" 

He's going in circles with his questions— confused and disoriented after having been woken up from his sleep—but it's fairly obvious that he's still incredibly insecure about the idea that Hitoshi is potentially planning on leaving him behind soon. Hitoshi hadn't realized that he'd damaged his trust so much by leaving him to sleep while he does extra jobs at night but in hindsight (like everything else in his life) he definitely should have seen it coming. 

"Wouldn't dream of it, honey." 

"Then quit tryna push me away and let's go back to bed." He whines and grapples around Hitoshi's larger body as if he fears the older man will try and roll him off again. 

Hitoshi finally sighs in defeat. 

"I can't go back to bed like this." 

"Huh?" 

Hitoshi reaches down to take a hold of Katsuki's hand and gently guides it down to his bulging manhood. He hears a small gasp. 

"Oh…" 

"Mhm. So can I get up and go to the bathroom now? I promise I'll be right back to cuddle you back to sleep." He reasons, going to slide him off again now that he knows that Katsuki has a clear understanding of what he's doing but yet and still, he refuses to move. 

"No." 

Hitoshi raises a curious brow. 

"No?" 

"Nope." 

And, oddly enough, Katsuki seems to be significantly more alert now. 

His hand gropes at the bulge beneath his palm. 

Hitoshi's teeth sink into his bottom lip as Katsuki squeezes him—fuck, that feels good. 

"Katsuki. C'mon, baby, quit teasin' me." He says, though it's quite lukewarm and also quite obvious that he doesn't have any real intentions of making him stop. After all, getting a sleepy hand job from his boyfriend sounded a lot better than giving one to himself over the toilet while trying to ignore how fucking cold the bathroom tile is against his feet. 

" 'm not teasing." Katsuki says, feigning innocence. He slides his hand up to feel beneath the waistband of Hitoshi's boxers and the older man shudders as those pink-painted fingers wrap playfully around his pulsing member. 

"Yeah? What're you doin' then?" He presses, short of breath. Katsuki's hand begins to stroke the length of his cock—experimentally at first and then with purpose as he feels warm beads of Hitoshi's pre-cum dribble down his knuckles. 

"Helping." 

"Helping?" 

"Mhm~" 

Katsuki thumbs at the slit of his dick and Hitoshi offers him a breathless moan that absolutely has sparks dancing across Katsuki's skin, goosebumps rising in their wake. He's ruddy from his chest up to his ears, lips parted and panting as he watches Hitoshi through the fringe of his lashes with glassy, half-lidded eyes. He's so fucking sexy—hair a wild, unkempt mess and sweat rolling down the expanse of inked and tatted abs as he grinds up into Katsuki's sticky fist. He hasn't broken eye contact even once and although Katsuki had ultimately planned to have Hitoshi at his mercy (and potentially make him beg) he knows that he's already far too deep under Hitoshi's spell to even stand a chance. 

If anyone's gonna be begging tonight, Katsuki is willing to bet his savings that it will most likely be himself. 

Hitoshi chuckles as Katsuki finally averts his gaze. It would seem as though he's successfully re-asserted his dominance through a single gaze.

"Don't get all shy on me now, baby. Look at daddy while you play with that dick." He says in that low rumbling voice that chases down Katsuki's ears like whiskey—dangerous and intoxicating. He reaches down to pull his waistband down beneath his full and heavy balls; Katsuki's dazed and lovestruck gaze follows eagerly instead. The blonde mutely thinks to himself about how fucking pretty Hitoshi's dick looks in his fingers—so fuckin' big. 

He's abruptly yanked from his dim thoughts as Hitoshi firmly takes his lover's jaw between his fingers and forces Katsuki's attention back on him. 

"You hear me talkin' to you?" He murmurs and Katsuki nods dumbly, the hand on Hitoshi's cock falling into a painfully slow rhythm as he becomes entranced by his lover's handsome face. The thumb caressing his jaw swipes across Katsuki's lips and Hitoshi hums. "Eyes on me. I wanna see that pretty face when you're pleasin' me, baby. Keep stroking that dick for me." He hisses when Katsuki complies, using his free hand to wrap his arm around Katsuki's slim waist and pull him closer—so close that he could feel Katsuki's breath ghosting against him. 

"Mmmhm, look at these pretty fuckin' lips." 

Katsuki's tongue obscenely flickers out to graze against Hitoshi with an airy laugh. 

 "Be a lot prettier with your dick in-between them, yeah?" 

Hitoshi's hips jerk up against Katsuki's fist, calloused hand tangling in messy flaxen locks with a bit of a growl. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah~" 

"Fuck—get down there, baby. And take your fuckin' clothes off; lemme see those pretty tits." 

God, he loves it when Hitoshi gets all bossy like that—bossy and aggressive and a little bit mean. He can feel his nerves unraveling into a an overexcited mess, elated that Hitoshi was willing to allow himself to be the one being pleasured this time but also rather anxious that maybe he wouldn't be capable of performing to Hitoshi's standards. He's not a virgin by far, but this is the first time he's ever wanted to exceed the expectations of his bedmate. 

To keep Hitoshi wanting more. 

He takes his time dragging his tank top up and over his head, giving Hitoshi full access to the shiny little barbells adorning Katsuki's hard and perky nipples—tugging and pulling and twisting even as Katsuki haphazardly tosses his shirt across the room and abandons it to make even quicker work of his lacy, pink underwear. Broad hands grope and squeeze at milky flesh as the mercenary caresses the artful contours of Katsuki's slim and supple body, lips trailing wet kisses down to his hips until Katsuki eventually moves to settle between Hitoshi's wide-parted legs. He grabs at the waist of Hitoshi's boxers and tugs, looking up at him expectantly.

"You want those off, babe?" Hitoshi asks and Katsuki hums in affirmation, tugging them down Hitoshi's tight and toned thighs all the way to his knees as his lover lifts his hips to assist him.

Hitoshi is such a fucking masterpiece. Katsuki loves to see him naked. 

"Just look at you—daddy's slutty little princess practically drooling at the thought of just being able to taste it like the needy little fuck you are." He breathes out, dragging Katsuki forward by his hair until the swollen head of his cock is prodding against Katsuki's lips. The blonde chokes out a stifled moan, a tingle thrilling right up his spine when Hitoshi pulls his hair again so tightly that it stings. A low, humming laugh rumbles in Hitoshi's chest. "I know, baby, I know. You love it when I bully you, don't you? So fuckin' eager to be my own personal little cock-swallowing cum-slut." 

That had been a new discovery for Katsuki. 

He's never thought himself a masochist but the gut-clenching burn of the degradation-laced praise lit an arousal within him that he'd never felt before, wanting to feel those calloused hands squeeze and choke and slap him like he'd heard Hitoshi describe to him so many different times before. His words laid promise of pleasurable pain. 

Of fulfillment. 

And of spine-curling orgasms. 

He nods before Hitoshi is even halfway through, much to Hitoshi's delight. Knowing that Katsuki was so desperate for him was half of the charm of making him wait. "Such a good boy for me, baby. But I need you to use your words tonight, okay? If I'm gonna be man-handling you and your sweet little mouth then I need to know how you're feeling." 

Katsuki snorts out a little laugh. 

"I'm not made of paper, you know. But if it makes you feel better, we can use a safe word or something—ow." 

Katsuki flinches at the harsh sting in his scalp, pouting at Hitoshi as he releases him and allows Katsuki's head to drop against his thigh. 

"Hey—"

"I'm being serious, Katsuki, and I need to know that you're taking me seriously. I can be a little heavy handed and I never want to push you too far. I need you to be verbal with me. The fucking safe word is stop. All you have to do is say the word." 

Not wanting to kill the mood, the smaller man responds in a mirthful tone. 

"Does get the fuck off of me, you stupid fuck work? I think I like that one better." 

And he manages to get Hitoshi to smile. 

"Fuckin' brat. You're not really gonna be able to say much of anything with your mouth full, are you?" He jabs and Katsuki's tongue rolls out to drag along the underside of Hitoshi's cock. It twitches in anticipation, Hitoshi biting down on his lip in an attempt to hold in the pleasured sigh that tries to escape him in the process. Mutely, he wonders what's gotten into Katsuki to make him so mischievous tonight. 

Doesn't matter. In the next few minutes, Hitoshi intends to be the only thing getting into him. 

"I know, baby, I'm fuckin' salivating just thinkin' about it. I'll tap your leg if it's too much, okay? But you're not gonna damage me by smacking me around a little and choking me on your dick." 

"You do understand that choking usually implies the possibility of asphyxiating to death, don't you?"

"Now that just feels like you're threatening me with a good time." 

"Katsuki." 

"I'm kidding. I'm a good boy, I swear." He kisses the slit of Hitoshi's throbbing dick, feigning coy as he bats his eyes at him in an attempt to persuade his overprotective boyfriend even further. Hitoshi responds with a fond roll of his eyes and a huff of laughter, unable to hide the way that his lips curl into that deviously charming smirk. 

Katsuki can't quite understand whether or not Hitoshi is trying to seduce him, but he could assure him that it isn't necessary. He's not the one that needs to be convinced here. 

And, frankly, he's tired of being stalled.

At the very least, he's grateful that this little detour of theirs doesn't seem to have stifled Hitoshi's arousal in the slightest. 

"Can I put this pretty dick in my mouth now?" He presses, though Hitoshi is more than certain that it's a rhetorical question when he sees that Katsuki has absolutely no intention of waiting for an answer. He's sure to hold his boyfriend's gaze, unwavering and unbridled as he lowers himself down onto his lover's aching manhood.

Hitoshi welcomes him with a guttural moan, hand tightening against the short strands of hair at the nape of Katsuki's neck as those sweet lips just barely kiss the base of his cock. He looks so fucking gorgeous, mouth stretched taught around his girthy shaft and tears prickling at the corners of the glimmering eyes as the fat head of his cock prods and presses against the opening of Katsuki's throat with every slide of his sinful tongue. 

"Ouuu shit, baby—fuck. You look so fuckin' pretty when you eat that dick for me like that, you know? So fuckin' pretty when you're eager to please." He purrs, Katsuki becoming much more ambitious in his service—much more aggressive. The blonde is becoming acutely aware of the fact that he's taking on far more than he can handle, gagging every time his throat seizes around his lover's girth. He has to make a considerable effort not to pull away or break into a coughing fit, pausing to adjust himself but never stopping—not when Hiroshi's toes have begun to curl like that. 

"And my baby's always such a fucking try-hard, tryna take my dick down to the balls even though his tender little throat can hardly take the stretch of me. You want me deeper, baby? Want me to fuck your sweet, gorgeous fuckin' face until I'm creaming right down your throat?" Another rhetorical question, it would seem. Hitoshi keeps his grip firm at the back of Katsuki's head, his free hand joining the other as he abruptly forces the remainder of his erection down Katsuki's clenching throat. 

Katsuki chokes, coughing violently around Hitoshi's dick and reaching up to grab at his wrists with both hands when it becomes increasingly difficult to breathe. His stinging eyes have begun to water, tears falling unbidden as his face begins to burn bright red. "C'mon, honey, you can hold it for me." It comes sharp and ragged like the jagged edge of a kitchen knife, breathless and shaky as Katsuki breaks away and inhales a gasping lung-full of air. 

Hitoshi releases him, allowing him to finish his coughing fit. 

And then Katsuki feels a sharp CLAP! across the soft skin of his cheek. 

It doesn't really hurt—a pleasantly warm sting left behind in it's wake that leaves Katsuki lustfully dizzy, a tattooed hand lightly squeezing the delicate skin around Katsuki's long, elegant neck. 

"I fucking tell you when you can breathe, you understand me? How the hell are you gonna be my own personal cock-sleeve and you can't even hold your breath for a few seconds, huh?" 

Katsuki's doesn't respond, his glazed and lidded eyes locking with Hitoshi's own as the older man gently pats his cheek with an amused chuckle. 

"Jesus, you're really into this. You like it when I smack you around like that, baby? Make you feel good?" 

God, yes. 

He's finally giving Katsuki a taste of what he's been yearning for. 

"I like it." Katsuki parrots with a dumb nod. 

Hitoshi cards a gentle hand through Katsuki's mussy hair. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah~" 

"Good. You're doing really well for me, honey. Just remember that if you need me to stop—" 

"T-Tap your leg and tell you to stop." 

"That's right, sweet thing." 

And he leans forward to praise Katsuki with a kiss at his temple. Katsuki can practically feel his bones turning into jelly. 

"Wanna go again." 

"You sure, baby?" 

"Mhm. I can do it this time." 

Hitoshi wants to tell him that he doesn't have to treat this like a competition but he's also painfully aware that literally everything is a competition to Katsuki so he keeps his futile commentary to himself. 

He watches as Katsuki goes down on him once more with renewed enthusiasm, holding the base of Hitoshi's fat dick in his hand and taking him until he feels him tug at his hair again. 

"No hands. Don't be a fuckin' cheater." 

And Katsuki moves to fist the sheets instead, eyes squeezed shut as he forces himself down to the hilt. Hitoshi's legs begin to shake as Katsuki swallows around him in his struggle to breathe and he groans louder than intended, quickly followed up by a callous string of curse words and obscenities as he claps a hand over his own mouth.

"Fuuuuuck yeah, baby!" 

It comes muffled from behind his sweaty palm as his eyes roll back and his hips jerk forward to push even further into the tight, wet cavern of Katsuki's squeezing and pulsating throat. Katsuki's warm tears of effort begin to splash down against Hitoshi's thighs but he hasn't tried to pull away this time, clenching the sheets so tightly that his knuckles go white. 

The mercenary roughly grabs at the back of his boyfriend's head as his twitching hips begin to start a rhythm, holding him in place as he chases that rolling release trapped at his core that has gone from a simmer into a rolling boil.

And Katsuki is making an absolute mess of Hitoshi's lap, thick and sloppy spit sloshing around his mouth before it comes frothing, bubbling and dripping down his lover's pelvis and onto the sheets. 

Hm. 

Maybe they should have put a towel down first. 

"O-Oh—shit, I'm gonna cum! Stay just like that for me, Kitty, I'm so fuckin' close baby." He grunts, gently gripping Katsuki beneath his jaw to angle his head in an attempt to go even deeper. Katsuki inwardly thinks to himself that this feels like getting high. 

He's not exactly sure of which aspect of this he's enjoying the most. Is it the feeling of being completely powerless that gets him off? Is it the delicious way that Hitoshi treats Katsuki like a dumb slut while simultaneously treating him like a fucking prince? Maybe he simply enjoys flirting with death. Hitoshi could suffocate him like this and he'd die happily. Who knows? All that Katsuki really understands is that he wants more. 

"Where do you want it, baby? You want it deep in your throat or on that cute fuckin' face? You'd be so fuckin' pretty, baby—my cum smeared over those soft, sweet lips." Hitoshi mumbles breathlessly as the thrusts of his hips become erratic. Katsuki can hardly see him through his tear-blurred vision but what a sight he must be—body glistening from exertion in the pale moonlight peeking through the windows. 

His dick pops out of Katsuki's mouth with a wet squelch and the next Katsuki knows, he's being pulled up onto his knees by a tight fist in his hair. He blinks the tears out of his eyes to meet Hitoshi's unbridled gaze—his free hand is stroking his sticky, wet, and twitching cock right over his mouth."Open wide for me, sweetheart." He grunts and Katsuki mindlessly obeys, sticking his tongue out to catch everything that Hitoshi had to offer him. His eyes flutter shut as warm, thick ropes of cum begin to splash against his cheeks. Some of it misses and lands on his chest, a guttural moan escaping his lover as he milks himself for whatever is left and rubs the weeping head of his cock against Katsuki's tongue. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath but when he does, he flashes Katsuki a devilish smile. 

"Damn, baby. You throated that dick like you were starving. You look so pretty though—all nice and sloppy. Go ahead and swallow for me." He purrs, gently caressing Katsuki's inevitably sore jaw as he gazes upon him with half-lidded eyes. Katsuki rolls his tongue back into his mouth and audibly swallows, a smile of his own curling at his lips when he sees how satisfied Hitoshi is. He's so proud of his work. 

"Filthy—I fuckin' love it. Sit still and lemme get your pretty face cleaned up, sweet thing." He says, hurriedly stepping away and running off to where Katsuki assumes is the bathroom. He comes back with a warm, wet towel and gently cleans his mess from Katsuki's still ruddy cheeks. "I was gonna return the favor but it seems like you were enjoying that even more than I was." He teases with an amused chuckle. Katsuki's head tilts curiously, clarity returning to the far-away look in his eyes as he follows Hitoshi's pointed gaze at his lap. 

Oh. 

"I didn't even have to touch you and you creamed all over yourself—that's adorable." 

Katsuki is admittedly also surprised (and kind of embarrassed, honestly) as he hadn't even noticed. He bristles halfheartedly, offering his boyfriend a lukewarm glare as he reaches over and takes the rag from his hand to clean himself. "Shut up, asshole." He mumbles and Hitoshi just laughs, leaning over to kiss the crown of Katsuki's head. He turns away to retrieve his pants somewhere from the floor and he doesn't have to see Katsuki in order to know that he's still glaring. 

"And where in the fuck are you going? I swear to God, Hitoshi, if I wake up tomorrow morning and you're not in this bed then I'm gonna shoot you in both your fuckin' knees with your own gun." 

"Jesus, baby—fuckin' relax, okay? I'm not going anywhere but outside for a smoke. I'd light one right here in bed but outta respect for my old man—" 

"Whatever, just hurry your ass up and come back to bed. I wanna be held." 

Hitoshi snorts out a soft laugh. He never thought he'd be the guy that cuddles after sex. 

"Okay, Kats, I hear you. Get comfortable; I promise that I'll be back soon." 

Katsuki responds with a grunt and Hitoshi continues to dress, quietly making his way out the front door as he fishes a half empty pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. The air is a tad nippy against his skin but it's crisp and refreshing, prompting Hitoshi to take in a nice lung-full and a deep exhale just before he puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it. 

It's fairly quiet around the neighborhood at night—or, in this case, the earliest hours of the morning—save for the faint song of crickets in the nearby distance and the very few cars that pass by every once in a while. He wouldn't mind moving out here and away from the city once this was all over. He could finally enjoy his smokes in peace and give Katsuki a simple, easy life. He owes him that much, at least.

"Assuming I don't totally shit the bed with this and get us both killed." He whispers aloud to himself, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the darkness. He's always been confident in his abilities but this is so much different with Katsuki around. He doesn't only have himself to worry and look out for but if he makes the mistake of not watching Katsuki's back even once, it could all be over for them. For Katsuki. He laments that he had gotten the younger man dragged into this in the first place. None of this was his fault.

"He's here because you fucked up." The voice in his head taunts him. He's aware of this already, however, so he shrugs away any doubt that he may have. Dwelling on his mistakes won't do him any good. He's learned. He's adapted. 

A vibrating sensation in his coat pocket pulls him away from his thoughts mid drag and he pauses, hesitant and suspicious. Who would be calling him at this time of night on a burner cell? Whatever it's about, it can't be anything good.

It's an unknown number—as he'd already expected. Most likely another burner. He taps the button to answer and holds it to his ear without saying a word. 

"You'd better have a damn good explanation as to why Kacchan isn't here yet." 

And boy, does Midoriya sound pissed. 

He'd honestly almost forgotten about him with everything that's going on, to which the freckled man seemed to have caught on to himself. Hitoshi is well aware of how big a tantrum that the other is capable of throwing and how big of a problem they could cause to those that cross him, but he's also smart enough to know that Izuku doesn't actually want to tussle with him. After all, his specialty is cold-blooded murder and Izuku's is…drugs? Human trafficking? All that Hitoshi knows is that he pays other people to do his killing for him and none of them are capable of taking the mercenary down. 

Should've put more money into training his men than into hookers and cocaine. 

He snorts out a cynical laugh. 

"My explanation is that he doesn't want to go with you and I'm not gonna force him." 

There's a brief spell of silence but Hitoshi can tell by Izuku's heavy breathing through the receiver that he's close to blowing a fuse. Still, he tries to maintain a facade of calm. 

"I don't give a shit if he doesn't wanna be here; I paid you to bring him back." 

"You're paying me to kill Chisaki." 

"Don't try to fucking bullshit me, Shinsou, it won't be pretty for you. Bring Kacchan to me or you'll have way bigger problems than Chisaki and his circus idiots." 

"Is that a threat?" 

Another pause. He'll take that as a yes.

Izuku takes a deep breath and Hitoshi can tell that he's getting on what could only be his last good nerve. It's rather amusing but Hitoshi knows that Izuku isn't bluffing about making more problems for him. 

Oh well.

"Bring back what belongs to me, Shinsou. I won't ask you again." 

"I'm gonna have to piss on your parade here and remind you that Katsuki isn't your fucking property, you slimy little slithering shitbag—he's fuckin' mine and my sweet thing says he wants to stay right here with me." He reiterates gruffly, becoming nettled by all of Midoriya's bravado. Where the fuck does he get off staking claim to his boyfriend—his future? Where the fuck does he get off making choices for Katsuki like he hasn't been under Midoriya's thumb for his entire life already? Katsuki gets to choose. And Katsuki chose him. 

For Hitoshi, that's the end of the discussion. 

"Understand this, Midoriya. Chisaki Kai will die regardless of whether or not you decide to honor our contract. I could turn that bastard's head in for a massive bounty anywhere; I don't need your fuckin' money for the kill. I will destroy anyone that gets in the way of Katsuki and I having a happy life together and if you're not careful, that's gonna include you. You want him back that bad? Come get him back in blood, fucker." He snarls, flicking the butt of his cigarette onto the pavement. "And if I find out that you had anything to do with the price on my baby's head, you're fuckin' dead." 

The tension is so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Midoriya is the first to break through it, bristling at him from the other end of the phone. 

"That's your final answer?" 

"Did I hesitate?" 

"Then consider yourself fucked." 

And the phone line goes dead. 

Hitoshi curses under his breath and snaps the phone in half. He's gonna have to ditch it and get another but first he has to wake his father and get Katsuki back out of bed. They can't risk sleeping here. The last thing he wants is to wake up to the barrel of a gun. 

"Sorry, old man." 

He shouldn't have come here. Now he's uprooted his father's quiet life. He seems to be doing a lot of that these days. 

"Learn and adapt, Toshi." He sighs to himself. "Learn and adapt." 

#

"Smug little motherfucker!" Izuku screams as he slams his cellphone down against the floor and stomps it into tiny, broken pieces. He is filled with unbridled rage, blood boiling so hot that he begins to sweat. His chest heaves with the effort it takes to attempt to keep a handle on his temper, hands trembling with the urge to reach out and strike someone. He rears back and swings blindly, nailing one of his rather unfortunate subordinates right in the jaw—most likely breaking it, if the noise it makes when the poor lad's body hits the ground is of any indication at all. The rest of them straighten up, startling nervously under fear of being the next victim of Izuku's wrath.

"That arrogant little son-of-a-bitch thinks that he can just disobey direct orders from me?! I'm gonna take that fucker's head off with my own bare fucking hands and I'm gonna savor every goddamn moment of it!" He's so red in the face that it looks like a bad sunburn, the heat of his anger pulsating through his skin. "He's dead! Deaddeaddeaddead—fucking DEAD! DENKI!" 

The blonde sighs, mutely thinking to himself that Izuku doesn't need to yell—they're standing in the same room after all. In favor of not pissing him off more, however, he chooses to ignore his friend's unnecessarily sour attitude. 

"Yeah, boss?" 

And in an instant Izuku is crowding him, invading Denki's personal space with a wild and manic look in his eyes as he grabs him by the shoulders hard enough to make him stumble. 

"I want that fucker at my feet YESTERDAY. I don't give a shit who goes and gets him but I want him and I want him alive. Nobody kills that bitch but me, you understand?!" 

"I hear you, dude. I'll get right on it."

Izuku releases him and turns on the rest of their comrades with equal enthusiasm.

"And if Kacchan is brought back to me with so much as a hair missing from his pretty little head, you're ALL fucking dead! Got it?!" 

They fumble over themselves to affirm. He's irrational and violent when he gets angry and being punched is the least they'd have to worry about if any of them happen to hurt his precious Kacchan. If Izuku had been armed, that poor guy would have been getting a trip to the morgue instead of the emergency room.  

Denki knows that this is much less about Hitoshi's blatant defiance and more about being denied access to his favorite pet. He struggles to remember when he'd become this possessive—this unhinged. 

"Get the fuck out of my sight and don't come back without them." 

And they disperse like the vermin they are. Denki follows suit, understanding that Izuku has put him in charge of this little errand. Izuku watches as the room empties, eyes catching a glimpse of Ochako walking in as his men leave him with his own thoughts—best for all of them, honestly. 

She remains silent until the last of them have filed out, closing the door behind them as she turns to Izuku with a visibly irate expression. He returns it with a glare of his own. 

"What?" 

"I just don't understand why you're throwing a tantrum because Katsuki doesn't want to come home. If he wants to stay with his boyfriend then we should let him. You can't just expect Hitoshi to drag him back here kicking and screaming." 

"And why can't I?" Izuku retaliates pointedly, turning his back to her. "Kacchan is just being stubborn because he's upset with me about all of this. He doesn't know what's best for him; that's why he needs to be here with me. So I can protect him." 

"Are you serious, Izuku? You can't just wage full-on war with every faction in Japan because your friend fell in love with a bottom-feeder; you're putting this entire family in jeopardy." 

She goes to follow him as he turns to walk away but something triggers him and he turns on her like a wild animal. 

"And what would you know about love, Ochako? You took my love and shit on it the moment you sold me out to the Hassaikai." 

The expression on her face is priceless; he can see the exact moment that realization begins to morph into fear and he breaks into a Cheshire grin. 

"Oh—you look so surprised. Imagine how I felt when I realized that I gave everything to a fucking traitor. All of the money and cars and jewelry. I never cheated, never once even thought about being unfaithful and it was never enough for a greedy, thieving whore like you." 

He can't tell whether or not she's preparing to run or preparing for a fight, body tight and unyielding as she shifts her weight in anticipation. 

"I didn't sell you out to anyone." 

"Cut the shit. I know that you tipped off Chisaki about Katsuki and told him that he could find him at the club. I know that you're the reason that our entire operation went tits up at Somnambul. If that's not betrayal then I don't know what is." 

"I'd never hurt you." Comes her frantic reply. "It wasn't ever about you, Izuku." 

"You sabotaged everything that I worked my ass off for—that my father worked his ass off for! How could you sit there and tell me that it isn't about me?" 

"Because I knew you wouldn't understand! Don't you see? This obsession with Katsuki isn't healthy and he's holding you back because you keep doing shit like this—sending all of our manpower on a witch hunt because he fell in love with Hitoshi instead of you!"

Realization hits Izuku like a ton of bricks. 

"You mean to tell me…that you started this entire mess between Chisaki and I because you were conspiring to get rid of Katsuki behind my back?" He gathers but he wants to hear her admit it out loud. His expectant gaze pins her where she stands but she says nothing. 

Still, her silence tells him all that he needs to know. 

"You almost got Kacchan killed." He continues, advancing on her like a beast stalking its prey—slow and deliberate. He could forgive her for stepping out of line but to intentionally put Katsuki in harm's way is unforgivable. She takes a step back as he begins to crowd her, panicked as she searches for the exit with her darting eyes but Izuku grabs her by the wrist to keep her still. 

"Izuku…please. I'm sorry—" 

"You're only sorry that you were caught. But don't worry; I'll relay your sincerest apologies to Kacchan once he's safe—back here with me."

She's not going anywhere. She has to pay for what she's done.

Notes:

Hi.

This took me about a year to write and it is still 6k of garbage. Sorry to have left you hanging for so long and thank you so much to all that have reached out about my well-being. I appreciate you endlessly for your encouragement. As always, I am a mediocre writer and I'm not very good, but thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed.

Chapter 23: Hourglass

Summary:

Sticky, bloody hands reach out to cup Katsuki's face and bring him around to meet Hitoshi's gaze. That's when Katsuki realizes that they're upside down.

And the massive shard of glass sticking out of Hitoshi's skull.

Katsuki feels the urge to vomit, bile bubbling within his gut as he begins to panic all over again.

"Oh God—Oh God—"

"It's okay! It's okay, honey, I'm okay! But we don't have a lot of time, okay, so I need to know if you're injured anywhere—can you walk?"

Notes:

been a while :)

I doubt that anyone's still reading this but if you see this...thank you. <3

huge trigger warnings for this chapter btw so if you get triggered easily then read with caution.

"You're leaving…" 

It's more of an observation than it is a question but Hitoshi is more than aware that his father is expecting some sort of an explanation—something that he had yet to offer even to Katsuki upon startling him from his sleep and telling him to pack their miniscule belongings as quickly as he can. He hadn't expected Shota to be waiting for them on their way out, sitting at the kitchen table in the dark as if he'd already known that Hitoshi would run off in the dead of night. The mercenary mutely thinks to himself that he should have expected as much but standing there under his father's scrutiny still gives him an uneasy sense of discomfort—like a teenager that's just been caught sneaking out past their curfew. 

"We are. Just think that maybe we've been in one spot for too long. Don't want to get too comfortable when there's so much at stake here." Hitoshi finally breaks the stifling silence between them with a stiff shrug. 

"You weren't going to say goodbye." 

Because he knew that if he'd told his father that he was leaving without a plan, he'd try to convince him to stay. He'd get himself involved in this much bigger mess that Hitoshi has gotten himself into. It's bad enough that he's being faced with potentially losing the love of his life. He doesn't want to lose his father as well—however estranged they may be. 

He has to get Katsuki somewhere safe and get rid of Chisaki as soon as possible. He can't face an army as big as Midoriya's with Kai and his circus of idiots in the way. 

"Didn't want you to be worried." 

"I'd be less concerned if you weren't running out of here like there was hellfire on your ass instead of like someone who was trying to play it safe." The older man says with a pointed look. Frankly, Hitoshi is unsure of what to tell him. Should he admit that he'd gone and kicked the hornet's nest when he was already in an impossibly sticky situation? Regardless of what excuse he may offer, it's fairly clear that Shota can sense that something is wrong. He won't be able to comfort him with vague simplifications.  

"You came here for help, son." 

He does need help. For the first time in his life, he's in way over his head. He thought that he could handle this. He thought that it would be easy. But he can't just shoot his way out of this one. He doesn't have the guns, the ammo, or the manpower. 

For the first time in his entire life, Hitoshi isn't confident that he'll make it out of this contract alive. 

If Shota tries to help him, then he'll die too. 

But he has to live. Katsuki has to live. 

At the very least, the two of them will have each other once he's gone. It'll be a much better world for them without monsters like Chisaki and Midoriya around. Monsters like him. 

They can finally be happy. 

They can finally be free. 

And he refuses to allow Shota to jeopardize that by finally being a father for once. 

"I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have come here at all. I should've just handled this myself instead of dragging you into this when all you wanted to do was leave this life behind."

This seems to catch Shota by the ankle, bolting up from his chair as Hitoshi grabs Katsuki by the hand and tries to make his way to the door but Shota blocks him. 

"Don't be stupid. I'm not letting you go out there without a single fucking clue just to get you and Katsuki both killed." 

"And I'm not staying here to risk losing you too, so get the fuck out of my way."

He vehemently tries to shove Shota out of the way but he's not strong enough to overpower him, Shota grabbing his wrist in an impenetrable hold and trying his best to use restraint as not to hurt him. He wants to de-escalate the situation before it becomes much too physical but Hitoshi is becoming manic rather quickly. 

The sun will be coming up soon. He doesn't know how much time he has before Midoriya is able to sniff out his trail. The last thing he wants is for it to lead him here. 

Hitoshi releases Katsuki's hand in order to free his own but Shota dodges him with an irritating amount of grace, easily able to incapacitate his son by slamming him flush against the front door with both hands pinned behind his back. The sound of the door rattling under his weight pulls a gasp from Katsuki's lips as he stands there trapped within the frigid grasp of fight or flight. The tight feeling in his gut warns him that meddling would only make things worse but the pained grunting that Hitoshi makes as he struggles against Shota's grip overwhelms him. 

He's never seen him so helpless before. 

Suddenly the impenetrable, bulletproof shadow that was Hitoshi Shinsou was no longer invincible—a frightened animal of prey.

Human. Just like the rest of them. 

"Fucking stop, you're hurting him!" He screams at Shota but the older man doesn't even flinch. "He's fine, honey, I'm just gonna hold him until he calms down." He assures Katsuki without missing a beat, though it feels reminiscent of how one would placate a fussy child. He presses his knee into Hitoshi's back as the younger mercenary bucks against the solid oak in a futile attempt to free himself. "I don't want to fight you, son, I just want to talk." 

"Fucking—get off of me!" He snarls like a feral dog but again, Shota doesn't budge. "It's okay to be scared when the walls are closing in on you and you don't know what to do. I've been there more times than I can count—" 

"Shut up! I'm not fucking like you, okay?! I could never fucking be like you!" 

"No, you couldn't be." 

"You don't fucking think that I tried?! I spent my whole life tryna pony up to the expectations that you had for me and it was never fucking enough—I was never good enough for you! You just fucking left me behind like I was nothing! You never even came to look for me—not even once—and like an idiot, I never stopped loving you!" It comes strained and ragged, his voice like gravel as it becomes more and more difficult for Hitoshi to hold himself together. Katsuki can't tell if it's from exertion or the overwhelming amount of emotion that he's feeling, but he can tell that he's in pain. He's vulnerable…and he's probably never felt like this before. It must've been terrifying for him. "So I fucked up, okay? I couldn't just leave behind any and everything I care about to finish the fucking job like you! I don't wanna fucking hear about how you think I fucking feel—you have no idea!" 

Shota looks as if a rug has just been yanked out from beneath him. Just like Katsuki, he'd always seen his son as someone that was immovable—never one to be a victim of his woes. He'd always talked about his less than ideal childhood like it was a cakewalk. About the horrific experience of his mother's death as if they were discussing the weather. He'd never imagined that all of the trauma that Hitoshi held on to was created by him. 

"Son. You haven't done anything wrong. " 

"You don't understand! I was just supposed to fucking kill the bastard and get on with my life—that's always been the job! We'd never be in this shitshow if I hadn't gotten involved with Katsuki! We'd never be in this mess if I had never fallen in love with you! And now there's a war coming…and it's all my fault because I failed to do my fucking job!"

Katsuki is hit with an overabundance of emotions upon hearing this. Is he saying that he should have just left Katsuki behind? Is he saying that he regrets saving him? In hindsight, maybe that would have been for the best. He never wanted to make Hitoshi miserable. It seems that misery is the only gift that Hitoshi has received from choosing to love him. 

He should have gone back to Izuku when he had the chance. 

Shota attempts to comfort his son once more by making light of the situation with an amused chuckle. 

"A war? Come now, you can't be that terrified of the Hassaikai. We can handle them, Hitoshi. You don't have to worry about—"

"I told you that I fucked up, didn't I?! It's not just the Hassaikai that I have to worry about anymore."

"...What did you do?" 

Hitoshi hardly manages the bitter laugh that he wheezes out, still pressed against the doorframe. 

"I was supposed to bring Katsuki back to him weeks ago. But I couldn't just let him take my baby away from me—I couldn't just leave behind the only person who's ever loved me and I can't stand the idea of them locking him away to be looked at like some sort of fucking trophy—he deserves freedom! He deserves to make his own choices and live a life that he can be proud of…" 

His voice is cracking. He's having a difficult time keeping his voice from failing him. 

"He'll cut down anyone in his way to get him back. Even you. And especially me. But I'm willing to die to keep Katsuki safe and I can't live with myself knowing that you'll die with me just for the sin of sharing the same blood so please…please just let me fucking do this for you, okay? Please…"

"You can't fight the League and the Hassaikai on your own." 

"I don't have a choice!" 

"Which is why you should just let me help you." Shota reiterates. Frustrated, Hitoshi bucks against the door again. "It's like you haven't listened to a single fucking word I've said!" 

"All I've heard was you tell me how much of a shitty father I am and why you think that's a good enough reason for me to let you march out there to your death." 

He releases Hitoshi and watches him fall to his knees, no longer struggling against him as he has lost the strength to fight. He falls forward to rest his head against the door, hiding his defeated and tear-stained face from their gaze. His father kneels down beside him, resting a callous hand on the crown of Hitoshi's unkempt head. 

"You have every right to be pissed at me for not being there. I didn't understand back then how terribly I had failed you by making the choice to let you raise yourself. I thought that I was doing what was best for you, not having you live in my bloodstained shadow…but I was wrong. And I know that an apology isn't what you want to hear but I am sorry, Hitoshi. I've regretted it every single day of my life.

"I looked for you. I actually did find you once—the day that you'd graduated from the academy. You looked so happy…and I didn't want to ruin that by coming back into the picture again like the trainwreck that I was. I wanted you to have the choice because I love you. I have never stopped loving you, Hitoshi. And I never will." 

Hitoshi sniffles, visibly trembling from the amount of effort that it takes to keep himself from sobbing and Katsuki can feel his heart shattering. He can't do anything to ease his pain. He can't do anything to help him. 

Then again, maybe he needed this closure.

"I've missed every opportunity there was to protect you, kid. The very least that I can do now is to be there when you need me the most. It's a lot to ask but…don't leave me behind. Don't try to do this alone. Let me be there for you. Can you do that?" 

Hitoshi shrugs, audibly swallowing the lump in his throat before he responds. 

"Not like you're giving me a choice." 

"I'm not. But it's always easier if you agree to see things my way." He pats Hitoshi on the back before picking himself up from the floor, encouraging Hitoshi to do the same. "Come on, get up. Sun'll be up soon. I'll put on some coffee and we can figure out a game plan before your friends decide to pay us a visit." 

Even though this seems to put Hitoshi's mind a bit more at ease, Katsuki doesn't feel as if this has solved anything. 

Especially now that he knows that the problem is him. 

#

"Katsuki?" 

"Hm?" 

"Are you alright, baby?" 

Katsuki finally tears his gaze away from the blurred treeline on the outside of the passenger seat window, his internal drowning interrupted by the concerned tone of his lover's voice. They're driving up some rural back road and the only two things he's seen for miles are trees and thick brush. Like always, he hasn't a clue of where they're going but it seems like they're headed even farther away from the city. He supposes that this makes sense. A gunfight in the middle of the shopping district doesn't exactly sound ideal. 

They ended up leaving Shota behind as he'd said that he needed to make a few phone calls to some very old friends. He assured them that he'd be right behind them, but Katsuki hadn't seen another car on the road for hours. 

"Where are we going?" He asks Hitoshi, deflecting the mercenary's initial question with one of his own in an attempt to change the subject. 

"To see Mei. She's the only other person that we can trust right now and she's holding on to some incredibly useful merchandise for me." 

"Oh." 

"Mhm." 

He wants to ask if he's sure that they can trust her. Isn't there a bounty on them both? How does he know that she isn't going to want the money for herself? Trusting her could be dangerous for them. Trusting anyone could be dangerous. 

"Is there something you want to talk about? Been awfully quiet this morning. Spacing out on me." Hitoshi doubles back to his original line of questioning, briefly glancing away from the road in an attempt to read Katsuki's body language. The blonde is unsure if he should say what he's been thinking. He doesn't want to cause any more trouble than he already has but Hitoshi isn't exactly the type to let things be. He'll just push and prod and wear Katsuki down until he tells him what he wants to hear. 

He's really honed in on those interrogation techniques. 

"I…I guess I'm just anxious, is all. This is all some pretty scary stuff." He says, feigning a lighthearted laugh as he fidgets with the zipper on his coat. Hitoshi nods in understanding. "It is. I'm sorry that this is something that you've had to go through. This isn't exactly how I hoped our love story would go." He replies, mirroring Katsuki's nervous laugh. 

"There wouldn't be a love story at all if we hadn't gone through this." 

"That's true." 

"Maybe you'd have been happier."

This prompts a brief silence between them. Hitoshi seems to need a moment to unpack this statement—to determine its underlying meaning—but just in case he's got the wrong idea, he asks Katsuki for clarity. 

"What are you saying, sweetheart? Whatever you want to say, just come out and say it. I won't be angry. You can talk to me." 

Katsuki heaves out a heavy sigh as the ugly feeling of doubt begins to sink deep into the pit of his gut. Is there even any point in telling Hitoshi how he feels? They're far past the point of no return. They've already made their choices. Even if Katsuki decides to surrender and go back home to Izuku, there's no guarantee that Midoriya would ever give up on hunting Hitoshi down. He's slighted him. Izuku won't take that lightly. 

Talking won't fix anything now. 

But just maybe it'll be worth it to get rid of the heavy, overwhelming feeling in Katsuki's heart. 

"Do you…regret loving me?" 

"What?" 

It's as if Hitoshi can't believe what he's hearing—or moreso that he can't believe he's being confronted about this. There's another short silence between them as Katsuki's anxiety grows exponentially worse. He's beginning to wish that he hadn't asked, mostly because he can sense that he doesn't actually want to know the answer. 

"Earlier you said…that you'd fucked up by falling in love with me. You're risking your life because you feel like you have to right a mistake that you made. And I just wanted to know if you regretted loving me. I-If you regret knowing me…" 

He already knows the answer. He just wants to hear him say it. 

Maybe that will give him all the courage he needs to try and save Hitoshi for once. To put all of this to an end. 

Hitoshi's lips close and open once more like a fish out of water, unsure of how to address the topic of conversation so his lips snap shut altogether. A moment passes and then another before they're back to riding in silence. Katsuki is smart enough to get the gist. No answer is sometimes an answer in itself. 

"It's okay. I understand." 

Hitoshi sighs.

"I don't think that you do, honey." 

"Then why can't you give me a straight answer right now?" 

"Because isn't that simple. It's not something that I can just say yes or no to. It's a complicated situation." 

Katsuki feels tears welling up in his eyes, frustrated and tugging at his hair. 

"You've always been straight with me before but now everything's complicated." 

"Baby…I just don't want to say something to unintentionally hurt you." 

"Well you did that already when you offhandedly mentioned that saving me was the worst decision of your life but I get it. I'd resent me too, if I were you."

"I didn't say that—"

"Maybe not in so many words but you definitely got the point across." 

"That's not what I fucking meant, okay? Saving you was my decision and I just dragged you along for the ride. I could never resent you for something that was my fault. And maybe…maybe I do regret making some of the decisions that I made when it came to you but these few months we've spent together have been the happiest days of my life so no, I will never regret loving you. I just regret that I had to love you in these circumstances. That you had to love me in these circumstances. You're worth it to me." 

Katsuki blinks away his tears with a roll of his eyes. 

"That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. I'm just some person and you're risking everything for me—" 

"I could say the same thing to you. You fell for the guy that basically kidnapped you and you never resented me—not even a little. Probably developed Stockholm syndrome somewhere along the way." 

"If that's true then why am I willing to surrender myself in order to save your life?" 

Hitoshi fully takes his attention from the road in order to shoot Katsuki a dangerous glare. 

"Because you're a fucking idiot, that's why." 

"Don't talk to me like that!" 

"How the fuck else am I supposed to respond to absolute most chicken-brained shit that I've ever heard you say?" 

"So I'm an idiot for wanting to save the man that I love but you're risking everything for me and that makes you what? A hero? Don't fucking kid yourself!" 

"Here we fuckin' go—" 

"You said it yourself, Izuku loves me more than anything! He wouldn't kill me; I'd go home and he'd try to make a life for me there! That sounds a lot better than having to force myself to watch you die—even if I spend the rest of my life chained to a bed!" 

"For fuck's sake—I went through all of the hard work of fucking keeping you safe and keeping us together and you're just ready to throw it all the fuck away because you don't have any faith in me. If that's the case then maybe I should've just left you cold and naked in the alley that night for Chisaki and his idiots to do whatever the fuck they wanted with you. Is that what you wanted?! Or would you rather it be Midoriya shoving your face down into a pillow every night?! Huh?! Use your fucking head for once!" 

Katsuki's mouth snaps shut and curls into a frown as he sinks back into his seat, arms folded tightly over his chest. A tear finally escapes him despite his efforts to conceal them. He wants to tell Hitoshi that just moments ago, he didn't even have faith in himself but at this point it's a pretty moot argument. 

"You said you wouldn't get mad." 

"I don't wanna be mad." 

"Then why are you yelling and cursing at me?" 

"Because sometimes you drive me fucking crazy with that selfless bullshit." 

"You're mad at me because I don't want you to die?" 

"I'm pissed that you'd think I'd ever want you to give up on your happiness for a fucked up bastard like me."

"Because I love you?" 

"Then love me enough to let me fight for this. Please don't make this any harder than it already is. Please." 

Katsuki untucks a hand to wipe his face as the tears drying onto his skin begin to feel uncomfortable. 

"Can you say that without yelling next time? I don't like it when you yell at me like that." 

Hitoshi curses under his breath, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Katsuki's thigh and give it a squeeze. 

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings; I'm just under a lot of pressure right now. I don't like fighting with you, either. We should be lovin' on each other now more than ever. Think you can forgive me?" 

Katsuki shrugs but reaches down to lace their fingers together in spite of himself. 

"I'm sorry, too. I'm just scared. We don't know how this is going to turn out…" 

He pauses as a thought crosses his mind. 

It never occurred to him until now that Hitoshi may have to end Izuku's life in order to save their own. He understands that Izuku is the enemy right now but…he still loves him. They've spent their entire lives together. He doesn't want to see it come to such a terrible end. Izuku was his first friend—his only friend for quite some time. He was Katsuki's family. 

Why did it have to come to this? 

Hitoshi brings their entangled hands up to his lips to press his lips against Katsuki's knuckles. 

"However it ends, I'm glad to have been here with you." 

A loud POP! suddenly rattles the car and Hitoshi yells a string of obscenities as he begins to lose control of the vehicle, pedal to the floor as he slams down onto the brakes. 

Both of their front tires are shot. 

Katsuki feels the air vacate his lungs as he holds on for dear life, every muscle and tendon in his body painfully clenched as the car spins out of control. 

Just before they go careening down the steep incline of trees and shrubs, the blonde catches a glimpse of the perpetrator. 

A dark colored SUV with tinted windows ducked amidst a pocket of trees. 

And Hitoshi didn't see them because they were arguing. 

Once again, Katsuki has gotten them into deep shit. 

"Shit! Hold on, Katsuki, just hold on!" Hitoshi yells as they pummel through the thick and forested area, flattening and crashing into trees as they go. Katsuki cries out in fear as the car flips over, unable to suppress his panic as Hitoshi's head slams against the steering wheel and his entire body goes limp. 

The last thing he hears before everything goes dark is the sound of shattering glass. 

#

"ₖₐₜₛᵤₖᵢ…"

What is that noise? 

The ringing in his ears…

The voice sounds like it's so far away. 

"ₖₐₜₛᵤₖᵢ…!" 

But someone is calling for him, he's sure. 

He smells…gasoline…

"KATSUKI!" 

The flaxen blonde's eyes snap open as the ringing in his ears subsides, but his vision is obscured by the viscous red liquid dripping down into his eyes as he frantically swivels his head around. He's disoriented and nauseous, dry heaving as the breath returns to his lungs. 

"Hitoshi?! Hitoshi—" 

"I'm here, baby, I'm right here!" 

Sticky, bloody hands reach out to cup Katsuki's face and bring him around to meet Hitoshi's gaze. That's when Katsuki realizes that they're upside down. 

And the massive shard of glass sticking out of Hitoshi's skull. 

Katsuki feels the urge to vomit, bile bubbling within his gut as he begins to panic all over again. 

"Oh God—Oh God—"

"It's okay! It's okay, honey, I'm okay! But we don't have a lot of time, okay, so I need to know if you're injured anywhere—can you walk?" 

Katsuki tries and fails to steady his breathing, squeezing his eyes shut so as not to focus on Hitoshi's grotesque injury, but he sees it even when he closes his eyes. 

"I-I-I think I hit my head—ribs are broken; i-it's hard to breathe—but I think I can move. I need to get help! We have to get you to a hospital—" 

"Katsuki. Listen to me, baby." Hitoshi cuts him off, hands trembling against Katsuki's skin. "I need you to get out of the car and run. Run as fast as you can but don't go back towards the road, okay? I need you to run down that hill." He keeps going even though Katsuki is visibly shaking his head. 

"P-Please…don't make me leave you."

"I'll be right behind you, baby, I promise." 

"Toshi, please, I'm scared!" 

"I know! I know, sweetheart, but I need you to be brave and trust me right now. Can you do that for me? Can you be brave?" 

Reluctantly, Katsuki nods his head. He can hear voices coming from up the hill—cat calls and loud whooping. Laughter. 

They're being hunted. 

Yet Hitoshi still pulls himself together enough to smile for him. 

"Okay. Okay, good boy. I'm coming right behind you, okay? Gimme some love." 

Katsuki doesn't turn away when Hitoshi leans in to kiss him. 

He prays that this kiss doesn't mean goodbye. 

"Go. Go, now. Do not stop running, do you hear me?" He reiterates as Katsuki struggles to free him from his seatbelt. He manages to cut himself free with a shard of glass, crawling out from beneath the car through the opening of the broken windshield. 

With his last glance, he sees Hitoshi checking his firearm to make sure that it's loaded. 

"Katsuki~! Where ya goin', gorgeous?" 

His legs buckle as he hears the familiar voice calling out to him. 

Denki. 

He sees him. 

Katsuki gathers all of his strength and uses it to run, stumbling further down the hill. 

"Aw, c'mon, sweet thing! We just wanna talk to you! Shouto's worried sick; I'm just here to bring ya home!" Denki yells after him, his voice bouncing off of the trees in an echo. He thinks he hears "Don't just stand there, go fuckin' get him!" but he doesn't dare turn around, ignoring the excruciating pain of his injuries and forcing his legs to go as fast as they can carry him. 

Even as the sound of rapid gunfire rings out he simply ducks down and keeps running—running and running—until the gunfire suddenly stops. 

"No! No, no, please—" 

He turns to confirm his fears but he's too far down the hill to see the crash anymore. All that he sees is a group of men cackling at him, guns and machetes at the ready. 

"Heeeeeere, Kitty Kitty!" 

"We won't hurt'cha baby doll!" 

"We just wanna have a lil fun! Hell, I'm willin' to bet you'd like it!" 

He nearly trips over a tree root as he takes off down the hill again, lungs heaving and burning from exertion. No matter how fast he runs, however, it seems that the men on his tail are much faster. 

His foot tangles itself in a bed of weeds and he hits the ground so hard that he bounces, throwing him headfirst down the hill. 

He claws at the dirt as he tries and fails to pull himself back up again, screaming out in pain as his body contests him. 

"The pretty ones always struggle." A smug voice says from behind him and Katsuki feels his entire body tremor in sheer terror as he's flipped onto his back. 

The sight of his captors towering over him leaves him wallowing in an impending sense of doom. He loses control of his bladder and they all have a laugh at his expense. 

"Whaddya say? Should we have a go at him before we take him back?" 

"Didn't Boss say not to touch him?" 

"Seriously? He's already fucked up; who's gonna notice if we go a few rounds with him?" 

Katsuki opens his mouth to beg but he can't seem to fathom anything more than whiny gibberish—begging for his life. They didn't do anything wrong. Why is this happening? 

One of the hunters drops his gun, freeing up his hands as he reaches down and rips Katsuki's tights right off of his body. The injured boy shakes his head in denial but his weak struggling gets him nowhere. 

They're going to rape him. 

He'd rather they just kill him instead. 

Bang! 

The sound of a gun firing sends Katsuki's heart racing, eyes snapped shut as he waits for the searing pain of a bullet to hit him but it never does. Instead, he feels warm blood splatter against his face and bare legs. A loud thunk! forces him to open his eyes. 

At his feet lies the man that had just been undressing him only moments before. 

The other hunters are just as confused as he is, fumbling for their weapons but it's much too late. The next shot drops two of them at once and they never even saw it coming. 

The last hunter decides against sticking around, making a mad dash for the top of the hill. 

He only makes it about twenty feet before another shot fires as he drops dead right there on the forest floor. 

The woods become dead silent—not a gust of wind or a bird overhead. Katsuki waits for something to happen—for him to suddenly drop dead too—but nothing happens. He's uncertain of how long he sits there before he attempts to stand again. 

If Denki and the rest of those bastards heard any of those shots, then he doesn't have much time before they're on him again. He has to force himself to get up and run. 

It's the last thing that Hitoshi asked him to do. 

He can't believe that Denki would just gun him down like that. He thought that he knew him. He thought that they were friends. Was he in on this the entire time? Did he know that Izuku was going to do this? Why didn't he do something to stop him? Why would he—

"Hey." 

Katsuki's inner turmoil comes to a screeching halt as he comes face to face with an unfamiliar woman—dark skin and brightly bleached hair that's lighter than even his own. He hadn't even heard her approaching him. Was she tracking him, too? 

"I understand that you're in a pretty fucked up mental state right now, but you don't have time for an existential crisis. Can you stand?" 

She tosses something—a blanket—over Katsuki's legs and he shakes his head. She's helping him? Who is this woman? 

"Figures. This is gonna be uncomfortable but I'm gonna have to carry you. We have to move fast; you'll bleed out from those wounds if you don't get treated soon." 

He grimaces in pain when she lifts him but he'll endure the agony of it all if it means getting far the fuck away from here. 

Notes:

I am mediocre writer but I hope that you were able to enjoy my work even just a little bit. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this!