Chapter Text
Katsuki
Katsuki's stomach growls violently, so loud that he wonders if his neighbors can hear it.
When had he eaten last? It seems like such a simple question, yet one he cannot answer. Glancing at the small digital clock at the corner of the screen, he winces. Midnight.
The only thing that's been on his mind is the manuscript of his new novel. He's been working day and night for fuck's sake, but to say he has writer's block would be the understatement of the century. How he got to be a best-selling author when words don't seem to exist in his head is beyond him, yet his name and previous novels are plastered all over BookTok, with full displays at every fucking bookstore, and requests for signing events coming in left and right.
Worse yet, he has unfortunately become recognizable when he's out and about.
His stomach, however, doesn't give a fuck. The good news is that his favorite ramen shop around the corner is open late and just happens to deliver.
Setting his cell phone down, order placed, he returns to his very important task of…staring at his laptop.
It's in the blink of an eye that there's a knock at the door. When he opens it, standing on the other side is a man, a red-headed himbo by Katsuki's assumption, holding a paper bag.
"Who the fuck are you?" he snaps. This is not his normal delivery person, the one with purple hair and too many face piercings to count that always has earbuds in her ears.
The guy blinks, eyes widening a bit. "Uh, ramen delivery?"
"That's a stupid fucking name. Where's Ears?"
The look of surprise morphs into one of confusion. "Who?"
The breath Katsuki exhales is forced and audibly annoyed. He doesn't have the time or patience for this; he just wants to fucking eat so his brain can start working again.
Admittedly, the guy is easy on the eyes but Katsuki has other shit to worry about than a hot himbo, so he pulls his wallet from his back pocket and grabs a few bills, enough for the food and a more-than-generous tip.
"Never mind," he growls, snatching the bag and the receipt along with it, then slapping the cash into the man's hand immediately after. Before the delivery idiot can get a word out, the door is slammed in his face.
Funny thing about eating is you really do need to do it every day. And Katsuki loves ramen. It only takes a three deliveries in the next week for the redhead to start making conversation, albeit short, when Katsuki opens the door, cash in hand.
It's never anything personal, just little one-liner jokes or off-the-wall comments about eating the same thing every time or suggesting he try different cuisines. For the most part, Katsuki ignores them, continuing to shut the door in his face so he can get back to his laptop.
However, their little meet-ups continue for weeks, each time the redhead stands outside of his apartment door, they exchange basic pleasantries... well, the redhead does, while Katsuki answers primarily in grunts and huffs.
The stress is building within him, rising to unholy levels and, with his deadline looming, Katsuki is subsisting primarily on coffee and…his favorite spicy pork ramen. He's close, so fucking close that he can taste it the end.
Granted, it's no one's deadline but his own and he has nobody to blame but himself. His Type A is showing, that's for sure. His novel is drafted out in a very detailed schedule—in a paper planner, of course—with check-ins pinned along the way. If he gets behind now, the ripple effect will be detrimental and, by that point, his agent will be on his ass.
He just needs to finish this chapter. That's all.
Two more weeks go by, full of little sleep and even less food, but the important thing is that he does it. He finishes the chapter. Barely by the skin of his teeth, but it's done and he can finally fucking breathe for a goddamn minute. So how does he celebrate?
He orders ramen.
Despite the short walk around the corner, the delivery man's red locks—the ones that used to be in some godawful spikes by the looks of it—are dripping with rain. His uniformed black shirt looks even darker, sticking to his skin in every unfair way possible.
Katsuki is temporarily rendered speechless. He just wanted a celebratory meal, not a goddamn walking wet dream. Yet, there are no complaints to be found when the rain droplets that roll down the man's sculpted biceps make his mouth water like a goddamn geyser.
"Hey, I'm starting to think you have a ramen addiction," the redhead says, chuckling.
"You're wet."
Not only is his mouth working faster than his brain, but it's clearly on a warpath to make a fucking fool out of him.
"That's usually what happens when people order delivery in the rain," comes the reply. The delivery guy extends the wet paper bag outward, holding the bottom so it doesn't fall through.
Katsuki takes the bag, but doesn't move, not even to pull the cash from his pocket as is very obviously expected. The silence is growing in awkward intensity, to the point that the redhead's eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"I, uh…I mean, do you want to come in? Get dried off or something? I can dry your clothes…"
He invites the delivery man in? Does 'read the room' mean nothing to his fucking brain? It makes no logical sense to offer to dry his clothes, since inevitably he'll have to go back to work in the rain, but any pre-existing logic has left the goddamn building.
"Oh, um, no thank you, I really need to get back." It's probably not just in Katsuki's head, but the man seems…nervous. Or maybe uncomfortable. Great, now he's a goddamn creeper. "It's always busy when it rains," the man adds.
"Sure," Katsuki says, finally pulling the few bills from his pocket and slapping it into the man's hand. Of course, he adds another hefty tip, and in order to save face and stop any further embarrassment, he all but shoves the man back out into the hallway.
After a barely audible "Thanks" the door is slammed in the delivery guy's face and the redhead presumably returns to work for the remainder of his shift.
Eijirou
After the wet clothes incident, the blond man does not order ramen again.
Eijirou has tried diligently to shove away the thoughts that whatever flirting—it was flirting, right?—had happened between the two men over the course of weeks was in his head.
He'd only turned down the kind offer that night because they were down a person at the restaurant and he was pulling double duty between dishwashing and deliveries. He really thought there was some kind of connection between him and the customer.
Eijirou loves his life, even while working two jobs purely for the sake of being self-sufficient. But that didn't leave a lot of time or energy for things he'd once considered fun. Movies, sports, reading, hanging out with his friends—all things he enjoys doing but just can't anymore.
It takes a long time, but he finally moves on and puts the thoughts of 'what if' aside. He doesn't normally get this hung up on guys but…well, maybe he does. It's fine, though, because for once, being overly busy helped instead of not. However, the downside to that is that over the next several months, he barely remembers to text his friends weekly or scroll through his socials on occasion. Five hours of sleep at night was his max and fuck, he was feeling it.
One Saturday, the stars align and Eijirou has an actual day off. A whole day! Plans were quickly made with Mina to hit up the mall. His favorite workout clothes—he always managed to fit a few sessions in throughout the week even if they were short—had seen better days.
First stop, though? Food.
After a meal of greasy pizza that tastes positively divine, they leave the food court and start to walk around.
"Oh Ei! Come in here! I need a fix!"
Mina, with her never-ending addiction to gossip magazines, pulls him into the bookstore so she can stock up. They split up, with Mina heading to the magazine racks and Eijirou checking out the new releases.
He isn't a huge reader, usually going with Mina to check out the fitness magazines, but he occasionally enjoys a mystery or horror novel. While he doesn't have a lot of time for, well, anything, lately he's been craving the unmatchable thrill that comes from a great book. Dragging his finger along the spines, half looking, half daydreaming about the smoothie shop that will definitely be their next stop, his finger paused on a book, pulling his full attention back to the present.
"Bakugou Katsuki," he mutters aloud, the pad of his finger tracing over the author's name. He doesn't recognize it but something needles in the back of his mind, something he can't quite remember. On a whim he picks the book up, tucking it under his arm. If nothing else, the cover art would make a sick addition to his bookshelf.
Through the rest of their much-needed shopping day—mostly of the window variety because adulting is expensive—he can't stop thinking about the book. It's been a while since he's been this excited about reading a book, but he has no idea what the pull toward it is. If anyone thinks cover art doesn't sell books, he is a shining example of how incorrect they are.
As much as he wants to go right home and start reading, he doesn't. He doesn't want to rush the day with Mina, because he's been looking forward to it for two full weeks. When they finally leave the mall to go for dinner, then drinks, he feels properly relaxed. The bar is hopping, and he and Mina go shot for shot, exchanging loud, boisterous laughs at jokes that probably aren't even funny.
Before he knows it, they're half drunk and stumbling back to his apartment to crash. The book is tossed on the coffee table, forgotten until another time.
His busy life once again consumes him. Work, gym, sleep...eat a little in between there, and the book is still not touched. Hell, it's still on his coffee table with the lightest covering of dust on that amazing dust jacket. Listen, sometimes his intentions are good but his follow through? Not so much.
A couple of weeks later, though, he's down for the count. A cold that nears man-flu levels has taken him out and he was forced to call off from his scheduled restaurant shift. His current situation: bundled up in blankets on his hand-me-down couch.
The TV was playing late night talk shows in the background and he was scrolling through his socials, commenting on Mina's post detailing an awful blind date she'd suffered through that night. He's not even paying attention to the show, honestly. It's just background noise to keep him company when he feels like shit.
However, when he hears the show's host introduce her next guest, Bakugou Katsuki, his ears perk up and his eyes flick to the bright screen. Isn't that the author of the book he'd just bought? Curiously, he turns onto his side to better see the screen.
Pure shock sparks within him when the familiar—and incredibly hot—blond customer walks across the stage and takes a seat on the posh burgundy armchair. "Holy shit," he mutters to himself, pushing himself up to a sitting position despite the wave of dizziness that comes over him.
It was THE blond... the one that ordered from the ramen restaurant almost every single day for weeks and weeks. The one who left him hefty tips. The one who asked him to come in when he was soaking wet from the rain.
The one who occupied Eijirou's mind during more than one of his jack-off sessions in the shower.
Okay, he isn't going to let his thoughts go down that road right now.
He KNEW that name sounded familiar when he'd first seen the book on the shelf. Holy shit, he had been delivering food to a celebrity the whole time? It's a good thing he didn't know that then, or he would've had panic attacks during every shift!
Once the applause dies down and the interview begins, Eijirou devotes his entire attention to the show, not wanting to miss a thing.
It doesn't hurt that he's incredibly attracted to the other man. He is unfairly gorgeous, but somehow makes it seem so easy, like he doesn't even have to try to be that hot.
Dressed in charcoal gray slacks—the kind that hug his hips and ass perfectly—and a button down black shirt which revealed just the perfect amount of bare chest and... is that a peek of his collarbone? Either way, he looks sharp as hell. Plus, with the cuffs of his sleeves rolled to mid-forearm, he's pretty sure he sees the edge of some ink on that pale skin.
Eijirou is gay when he's sober and wildly bisexual when he's not, but the fact remains: he has little time for any of that, drunk or not.
Outside of his limited interactions with the blond, he knows nothing about Bakugou prior to the interview. Even in the brief time allotted to the author, he doesn't learn much of anything, but it's definitely enough to pique his interest.
Fuck, he really should be sleeping right now. He feels like a steaming pile of shit and cannot afford to miss another shift.
But…he can't pull himself away. After the short appearance ends and Bakugou leaves the stage, his mind reels, still seeing those gorgeous eyes in his mind and all but kicking himself for turning down the man's invitation to come in all those months ago.
And still, he doesn't sleep. Instead, he dives into searching for information on the author on his phone. Hours tick by and he honestly wonders how he'd managed to go this long without hearing about the famous Bakugou Katsuki. He's on the bestsellers list! Eijirou really needs to get out more.
It's past 2am when Eijirou finally passes out, finger mid-swipe on his phone, partway through a spoiler-free article about his most recent book, the same one laying precariously on his coffee table.
On his dinner break the next day, he texts Mina to ask if she's ever heard of Bakugou Katsuki.
Mina: Ofc I have Kiri he's famous! Wait.. u haven't heard of him??
Eijirou: No? U think I have time to read rn? Saw him on a talk show last night
Mina: U actually watched a talk show? Who are u
Eijirou: I couldn't sleep! and uh … he was interesting?
Mina: GASP!!! u think he's hot don't you! u slut
Well, so much for sleuthing some info out of his best friend.
No matter how hard he tries to be sly, it never works on her. She sees right through it—not that he's very good at hiding anything. The two text back and forth for the rest of his break, and his pink-haired friend lets on that she's about halfway through his new book. He didn't even know she'd also bought it the same day. Unsurprisingly, she chastises him for not starting it yet, making him promise to do so that week.
He has to admit, his interest in the man is growing by the day. His constant internal reminders that he and the author might have innocently flirted don't help, but…that's where it ended.
Bakugou is famous, and Eijirou is... well, not. He barely makes ends meet, had no education past high school, no time for hobbies or social activities. He thinks he's decent looking, sure, and he thanks his amazing metabolism and semi-consistent workouts for the muscular build of his body.
But by all rights, that's where he feels his appeal ended. His longest relationship was just a couple of months, and it ended two years ago... or was it three? Long story short, he's in his mid-twenties, single, and has no path. No direction. Nothing to offer.
Mina always tells him he's too hard on himself, that he should feel proud of what he's able to do on his own without help. It's only Eijirou's pride that keeps him from having to ask family or friends for help, though if he's being honest, there were several times he was within a hair's breadth of begging.
Sometimes his best friend has to remind him that he has so much love to give that anyone would be lucky to have him. Right. Sure. That's why he can't even get a second date once the person finds out more about him.
One guy even told him he 'lacks passion and is going nowhere in life' before walking out on his dinner date. He also saddled Eijirou with the entire bill. Dick.
Luckily, he's snapped out of that downward spiral when his manager tells him it was time to get back to work, and he heads back to the counter to take the next person's order.
The next day, he doesn't work at his day shift job—the grocery store down the block from his apartment—so he takes the golden opportunity to sleep in.
He's still feeling a bit run down from his cold so when he doesn't wake up until ten that morning, it's the first time in months he actually feels refreshed. Protein smoothie in hand, he hits the gym, which is busier at this time of day than he prefers.
But, it's the cheapest in his neighborhood, and if you overlook the code violations and the occasional mouse, it isn't all that bad. He's made a few friends there since he started going, and never leaves without a smile on his face and sweat soaking his body.
When he's back home, he affords himself the luxury of a long, hot shower, doing all the things he never makes time to do...like trimming the downstairs. Not that he has any plans to get laid, but one can always hope.
Once dressed in a pair of low-riding sweats and nothing else, he makes himself some lunch and sits on the couch with the book... THE book... written by THE Bakugou Katsuki.
He's not sure why he's so nervous to read it. It's not like he actually knows the guy or anything. He delivered food to him. A lot. And was invited into his apartment to dry off...which would require taking his clothes off...
Okay, again, not going down that path.
So he dives in, eating his lunch and reading page by page. Sci-fi and fantasy isn't really his favorite genre, but surprisingly this book sucks him in from the very beginning.
While he already knows the basic premise of the book after scanning the inside cover at the bookstore, it's the world-building detail that grabs his attention and holds it in a vice.
The main character is a man who makes a deal with the devil in order to save his ailing wife, selling his soul to the evil demon king himself in exchange for her healing. The cancer that had invaded her body miraculously disappears and all is well...until just six months later, when she was killed in a car accident, leaving the man angry and bitter, seeking revenge for his lost love. He tries desperately to make another deal to bring her back, but it's too late.
He curses the devil, accusing him of going back on his deal, daring him to come fight him. He thinks so little of what life he has remaining, a life without his love, that he doesn't care what ending comes to him.
In a shocking turn of events in one hell of a chapter-ending cliffhanger, the devil answers him by way of a portal key and a note with specific instructions. Time, date, location... and a warning that, should he decide to use it, there would be no coming back.
At midnight, just four days later, the man uses the key and enters the netherworld, on a mission to meet the devil himself.
Eijirou's phone dings, and it's a good thing, because it's nearly 4:30 already. How has he been reading that long? He has to be to work at the restaurant in a half hour!
Over four hours of flipping pages and immersing himself in the world Bakugou Katsuki so painstakingly crafted. A world that makes Eijirou strongly consider calling off, if only so he can jump right back in. Grabbing a piece of paper as a bookmark, he tosses the book back onto the coffee table and hurries to his shift.
Later, when he drags himself home, stinking of grease and sweat, his only thought is another quick shower and bed. He ignores the multiple texts that come through one after another, presumably from Mina, who is the only other night owl that would be texting him. Phone forgotten on the counter, he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.
Not a morning person, he again ignores the texts until he finally makes it to his lunch break at the grocery store the following day.
Mina: KIRI - Um, did you start reading that book yet?
The question is followed by several key smashes and 'thinking' emojis. He takes a bit of his food and types out a reply.
Eijirou: Yeah started it yesterday Y?
Mina: Did you get to where he meets the devil yet??
Eijirou: Nah I had to go to work
Mina: I'm assuming you didn't read the deadication at the beginning?
Eijirou snorts, making himself nearly choke on the chicken teriyaki he's inhaling before his break is over. Deadication? Seems to fit too perfectly to be a typo, so he has to give credit to the clever author.
Eijirou: Heck no who actually reads those things?
Aren't the dedications usually like "To my mom who always supported me" or "To my teachers who challenged me to do better"?
With a sigh, he scrapes the last bite onto his plastic fork and then quickly shoots another text that he'd talk to her later. Tossing his garbage in the bin, he clocks back in for the rest of his shift.
Like many other nights, he's working both jobs, so when his shift at the store is done, he goes immediately to the restaurant. It's pretty busy, between deliveries and cleaning, the shift is going by quickly. Until he gets another delivery for Bakugou Katsuki—why isn't the man using a fake name if he was so famous, anyway?—and can't stop the nerves from instantly creeping through his body.
It's been months since he was there, and the last time didn't exactly go well since Bakugou had dropped off the face of the earth after that. In all reality, he's sure it's because he was such an idiot and turned down kindness from a celebrity.
Ugh, he still feels like such an fool even though it seems like forever ago. But, still, rent is due and the man tips well, so who is he to turn it down?
Eijirou jogs up the stairs to the man's apartment and knocks on the door. When the door is whipped open only seconds later, Eijirou takes a step back in surprise. And if the look on Bakugou's face is any indication, he is just as surprised as Kirishima.
"You're not Tadashi," Bakugou says, eyes narrowing as he wipes the brief look of shock from his features. Now he almost looks... annoyed?
"Uh, nope, he had a family emergency," Eijirou replies. Maybe he shouldn't have told him that, personal info and all, but he's slightly taken aback at Bakugou's odd reaction. Is he still this angry over a refused act of kindness? If so, it takes grudge holding to a whole new level.
The weird encounter doesn't stop there, as Bakugou all but rips the bag from his hand, shoving some cash into his other palm. But instead of slamming the door, which Eijirou braces himself for, Bakugou just stares at him for several long, awkward seconds.
Angrily.
Fuck, he is so hot.
However, when Kirishima opens his mouth to say, well, anything to break the silence, it's then that Bakugou chooses to grunt and slam the door, cutting him off.
"Uhh.. you're welcome?" he says to no one, shaking his head and heading back to the restaurant.
He hopes the rest of his shift is more normal than this.