Kuraudia Chan

I sigh. No, I don’t think we should do it. 

“How about we just get wasted instead?” I smile at him, placing my hand over his in an attempt to placate him. “I feel like drinking a lot today.”

“Sure!” He says, getting up to order us some more drinks.

He comes back with shots of tequila, which we quickly chug, and before I know it, he’s going to the counter to order some more.

My head’s already feeling a little fuzzy, but I feel much better, honestly. I can’t stop the smile from spreading on my face as I wait for him to come back.

Denki’s back with more drinks but honestly I feel like I need to move.

Should we dance or should we hit the road?

Go to chapter 47 if you decide to dance (coming soon)

I close my eyes, and I suddenly feel like Denki’s right – what’s the worst that can happen? The worst is rejection, and it’s not like I’ve never been rejected before. Granted, it’s never been by someone quite so handsome, but… It can’t be worse than never knowing because I was too scared to try.

“Alright.” I whisper.

“Yeah!” Denki cheers, raising his arms above his head. “You can do it! Ask him out on a date!”

“Don’t push your luck.” I chuckle. I get up, looking towards the counter and spotting him again. Still there, and still very much alone. Or at least that’s what it looks like.

I walk towards him and take a seat next to him, asking the bartender for a drink. I don’t look his way just in case, but that also means that I don’t know if he was checking me out.

After a sip of my beverage I turn my body towards him, shooting him a smile when he finally glances my way.

“The music’s great!” I remark, watching how his eyebrow twitches slightly as he looks me over. “Wanna go dance?”

“The music’s shit.” He snorts back, shaking his head before looking back at the counter.

“Alright.” I hum, forcing myself to not feel discouraged by his reaction. “What kinda music do you like?”

He turns to me yet again, an amused smile on his face. Maybe he wasn’t expecting me to be so persistent. I think he likes that I am, or at least that’s what it looks like by the interested smirk he’s sporting.

“Definitely not this crap.” He replies, his gruff voice sending shivers down my spine for some unknown reason. He leans back in his chair, showing me a confident attitude.

“Then why are you here?” I ask, more to get to know him than to keep the conversation going.

“Isn’t it obvious, Shitty Hair?” He tilts his head when his eyes land on the little frown I make at his words. “Cause I’m looking for a good night out.”

“Just a good night out… you’re not looking for anything serious?”

“None of your business.” He mutters solemnly. His eyes shine as he says it, but there’s no bite in his tone.

“Well, I guess you’re right.” I whisper, looking away.

“And it’s not like you can find a life partner here.” he surprises me by saying. I thought he’d lost interest already and didn't want to continue talking to me.

“Why not?” I reply, more than eager to keep him speaking as much as possible.

“Because, Shitty Hair,” he whispers as he leans in, a predatory smirk on his face, “no one here is looking for that. They just want sex.”

“Maybe I’m looking for that, a life partner, a boyfriend or whatever.” I remark, seemingly nonchalant as I pull back, avoiding his gaze at first and then glancing at him flirtily. 

“Well you’d be the only one.” He keeps his eyes on me, the amused look on his face still there as he tries to figure out if I’m lying to him or not.

I shrug, as if I don’t care. He hums in response, turning towards his drink and taking a big sip before he locks eyes with me again.

“Is that really why you’re here?” He asks, and it gets my hopes up that he’s finally taken an interest in me and is asking me questions.

“Maybe,” I shrug my shoulders, playing at being mysterious. I think it works because he shoots me another smirk. 

“Is that why you’re talking to me?” He asks, his eyes narrowing as he tilts his head, a cocky smile spreading on his face.

“Well, that would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?” I tease playfully, crossing my legs in an attempt to capture his interest further. “Since you said you’re not interested. I wouldn’t bother.”

“I mean, I’m not against it.” He shrugs. “But you’d probably back down before me.”

“Why would I?”

He shrugs again, his hand going to the counter to pick his drink up, but he doesn’t glance away from my face the whole time. He takes a sip, as if he were considering what he’s about to say. He ends up not saying anything else though.

“Dude, I’m manly.” I proudly almost shout.

“I never said you weren’t.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“That you’d get tired of me, of my brass attitude. They always do. That’s why I stopped caring and stopped trying to go on dates. I just go for the easy way out, the sex.”

“Well, I’m different.”

“Suuuure you are.” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s why you tried picking me up.”

“I can prove that I am.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want you to prove anything.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean I don’t care, Shitty Hair. I’m not interested in dating.”

"I can prove you wrong. I want to. Let me."

"And what would you do?" He scoffs. "Take me out on a date?”

“Yeah, if you’ll let me.”

He leans back, considering my offer.

“Where would you take me?” He asks, cheekily. His eyes seem to sparkle as he talks, and it makes my heart beat faster. I love the little smirk on his face, it’s making me feel things. He’s special alright. “Hypothetically speaking. If you were to take me on a date.”

“Wait, is this a trick question?” I ask him, trying to gain time. I don’t want to fuck it up. “Like, do I get to ask you things to get to know you before inviting you someplace?”

“Nah, that’s cheating. Try picking me up. I wanna see what you’ve got.”

“That’s so hard, dude!” I laugh, but it pumps me up. “But I like it. It’s like a challenge.”

“So, where’d you take me?”

“Okay, so, based on what you seem to like… which is… not this music. And you didn’t reply to my invitation to dance, so you’re probably not into that either. Hmmm. I’m going to go with my gut on this one. You probably don’t like crowds, so maybe… we could have a few drinks, somewhere more private?”

“Is that an invitation to your house?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling cutely as he lets out a guffaw. “I thought you said you didn’t want to take me to bed.”

“I mean, that’s not off the table.” I whisper sheepishly, to which he replies with an eye roll, but he has an amused smirk spread on his face, so I know it’s alright.

“So you proved me right. Everyone here just wants to fuck.”

“Hey, wanna go out for drinks? Someplace else. No music, or at least not this music. You can pick the place.” I go for it, drinking in his surprised reaction.

“I can, eh?” He whispers, smirking at me. His eyes shine as he pretends to think over my invitation.

Before I can nod in response, he gets up from his chair.

“Alright, Shitty Hair. Prove to me that you’re more than just a quick fuck. I know a place.”

“Sure.” I nod my head vigorously as I get up, but I pout as I notice something. He stops when he sees my face, and he frowns, seemingly worried. “But, hey… could you stop calling me Shitty Hair, please?”

“You never gave me your name, dumbass.” He snorts. “What was I supposed to call you?”

“It’s Kirishima. I’m Kirishima Eijirou.”

“Hmm, nice name. I’m Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.”

“That’s a manly name.” I whisper, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the little beat my heart skipped when I heard it.

He scoffs at my reaction, rolling his eyes yet again. 

“C’mon, get your arse moving.” He mutters, trying to sound like he’s tough or something. I find it adorable.

I nod and follow him as he leads the way. As we exit the bar I grab my phone and text Denki that I’ve got a sort of date.

Bakugou looks at me when I lag behind him and he tells me to hurry up, a small scowl on his face as he urges me to speed it up.

Putting my phone back in my pocket I skip along to where he is and I grab his hand, confident.

He stares at me, and then down at our intertwined hands, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

The bar he takes me to is fancier than I imagined it would be. I’m heavily underdressed for it, but he isn’t. He looks so good in his casual clothes; and unlike me, he doesn’t stand out here.

I let go of his hand before we enter and he turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snarls at me.

“I’m… well, I don’t know if it’s okay for us to hold hands in this place.”

“And why the fuck not? Look at that couple over there.” He points at a man and a woman, heavily flirting in the table by the window. 

“Yeah, but we’re both men.” I whisper, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“So fucking what?”

“Not everyone thinks it’s okay to be gay.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what other people think of me.” He sneers, pulling away from me. When I look into his eyes there’s a burning passion in them, like there’s more he wants to say. “And you shouldn’t either.”

“I know, but, like, it’s hard-”

“I don’t care. Life’s hard.” He cuts me off. “Deal with it. Don’t stop being yourself just because other people frown on it. Do you think that’s stopped me from being who I am?”

“I… don’t know. I don’t know you.”

“Fuck if it has. Of course it fucking hasn’t. And if you want a shot at being with me, it better not stop you from being you.”

The way he says it makes me look him in the eyes with a scowl. I clench my teeth as I pick his hand up and give it a squeeze. I’m going to show him exactly who I am and I’m not going to back down until he’s fallen in love with me, and even after that I’ll keep proving to him who I am every single day.

He smiles proudly at me, firmly gripping my hand as he turns and opens the glass door to the bar, walking us in.

An elegant woman welcomes us in. She’s extremely tall, with beautiful long black hair, tied away from her face in a pretty ponytail. She glances at our entwined hands before shooting us a reassuring smile. It’s more of a compassionate look, like she understands what we’re going through.

“We want a private room.” Bakugou says, tugging at my arm so I stand right beside him. I stand straight so he knows I’m proud of being next to him. “Do you have any available right now?”

“We do.” She replies politely. She outstretches her hands – which had previously been lying flat against her legs – in the direction of the private rooms. “Right this way.”

I walk briskly beside Bakugou, hoping to prove to him that he doesn’t have to pull me along. He shoots me another proud smirk.

She opens the door for us to see the room.

“Does this one please you?”

“Yeah. We’ll have a bottle of whisky with two glasses, with ice.”

“Of course.” She excuses herself with a low bow and we make our way to the table in the room. It’s spacious – far too big for only two people – but it’s still a nice place.

“Hey, gimme your things, I’ll hang them up.” He says, grabbing my jacket when I hand it to him.

“Thanks.” I whisper, as if I’m in a trance. I seat myself in the comfortable chair and wait for him to sit in front of me. “I didn’t know you like all these fancy things.”

“I don’t. But it’s the only place I know that has private rooms. Plus, I know the owner.”

“The pretty woman?” I ask, incredulous. It hadn’t seemed as if they knew each other. Maybe she was just being professional.

“No, not Momo. I mean, she’s an acquaintance, but I wasn’t speaking about her. Todoroki owns this place. Well, his father does. Rick fucker that has everything he wants, so he owns a lot of fancy places like this. This one’s the only one the son’s in charge of.”

“How’d you know Todoroki?”

“Mmm. He’s a friend of a childhood… of someone I know. Well, it’s more like he has a crush on him.”

“Todoroki?”

“Nah, he’s different. I don’t think he’s capable of crushes. And he’s oblivious as fuck. That stupid nerd’s obviously been in love with him for years and he has no idea.”

“Who is… your childhood friend?”

“Not a friend.” Bakugou snorts, avoiding my gaze. “Well, he’s not that bad I guess.”

“I’m kinda confused.” I say, shaking my head. 

Just at that moment, there’s a knock on the door, and Momo’s voice rings from the other side.

“May I come in?”

“Sure.” Bakugou calls out, turning his head towards her.

She opens the door and enters with a tray, a bottle and two glasses on it. She drops them off at our table and looks at the blond man in front of me.

“I told Shouto you were here. He’ll come and greet you properly in a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Ugh,” Bakugou sighs, sounding exasperated. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, “fine.”

“Then I’ll let you enjoy your private room.” She bows again before closing the door behind her.

“Don’t let her demeanour fool you. She’s smart, but pretends to be ‘nice’ and instead just causes chaos.”

“Wouldn’t it be the correct thing to do, though? Telling your friend that you’re here.”

“We’re not friends.” He remarks, his tone of voice giving no option for rebuttal.

I give him a look and he throws his head back, letting out an exasperated whine. “Okay, fine. She’s decent. But Todoroki fucking ain’t. You’ll see when he comes over, which will probably be soon, knowing him.”

The door opens and a man steps in, an indifferent look on his otherwise pretty face.

“Riiiight on time.” Bakugou mutters, turning his head away from him.

“Katsuki, nice to see you.” The man greets him, walking towards us. He looks at me, and I can see his eyes are different colours, like his hair. “And who is your companion today?”

“I’m Eijirou Kirishima!” I smile at him, to which he nods his head in acknowledgement.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Shouto Todoroki, a friend of Katsuki’s.”

“What do you want?” Bakugou almost growls, turning to glare at him.

“I just wanted to welcome you. It’s been a while since you’ve last been here.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I do. I’m a very busy man. But it’s common etiquette. Is this your partner? Izuku will be very happy to hear. He’s worried about you.”

“Fuck!” Bakugou snarls. “Don’t fucking tell him anything. He’s not worried, he’s just nosey.”

Todoroki sighs, rolling his eyes before turning to look at me. “I don’t know what you see in him.”

I laugh, which only makes Bakugou growl even louder.

“Just fuck off already. What I do isn’t your business – or his.”

“Alright, I’ll leave. I hope you have a pleasant evening. Drink as much as you want, it’s on me.” He says, giving a courteous wave before leaving the room.

“That fucker!” Bakugou growls, going for the unopened bottle and filling both our glasses. He thrusts mine towards me and chugs quite a lot of his down. “Just because he’s rich doesn’t mean he has to flounce his money around. It’s all his father’s anyway. And that Momo woman is the same. Well, used to be. She got disowned when her family found out she ran off with a girl. That’s why she’s working here. They’re childhood friends – because of the money thing, obviously – and he’s just doing her a favour.”

“I see.” I whisper. “I thought those two might have been… a thing. They look good together.”

“Todoroki doesn’t have a heart, so no, they don’t.”

“Are you just saying that because you’re hurt? Because that Izuku guy loves him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Bakugou stops what he’s doing and stares at me, his eyes narrowing.

“No.” He bites back, but doesn’t say much else.

“You don’t hate them.” I remark, smiling at him. 

He pauses, but he sighs and avoids my gaze. “No, I don’t. They’re bearable.”

“So tell me more about them, or about you.”

He scrutinises me with a glare, but sighs. “I guess it’s fair. But only if you tell me about yourself, too.”

“We have all night.” I smile at him, and he scowls back.

“So Izuku and I grew up together, basically. We were neighbours, and our mothers were friends. We went to the same school and all that. But he used to stick around me. At first I kinda liked it, y’know? I had a few boys following me around, and it got to my head. I was an arsehole.” He pauses, his eyes darting away from my gaze. He stares at the drink in his hands, and he gives it a swirl. The room is so silent I can hear the ice clanking against the glass. “I… I want you to know I’m not proud of this, and that I’m a different person now. I bullied him. For years as well. It made me feel so powerful when I took advantage of him. He trusted me and I betrayed not only his trust, but whatever. I know I fucked up. I realised later, when I was older, and I apologised to him. I have since made amends with Izuku – although I still call him Deku. He kinda embraced that nickname thanks to Ochako.”

“Why Deku? What?”

“I used to call him Deku, when I mocked him. But it’s okay, he’s over it, so I can use it without offending him.”

“Who’s Ochako? An old girlfriend?”

Bakugou snorts, shaking his head. “She wishes! Nah, just another one of Deku’s friends. He surprisingly knows a lot of people.”

There’s a silence in which I just sip my drink. I honestly don’t know what to say or think.

“Thanks for not judging me.” He whispers, his eyes on his hands.

“Well, we’ve all got pasts we’re ashamed of.” I mutter, turning my gaze away.

“So, what’s yours?” He asks, his voice low. “What are you ashamed of?”

I don’t say anything. Instead, I duck my head slightly.

“It can’t be worse than what I did, Kirishima. Just spit it out.”

“It’s… some dark stuff. I was a pretty insecure kid.” I raise my head and our eyes connect.

“You seem pretty confident now.” Bakugou whispers, his hand finally releasing the glass and going over to hold mine. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. Some stuff is just difficult to talk about. I just want you to know that I’m glad you’re much more confident now.”

“I… I used to have depression. I used to cut myself, and did other stuff I'm not proud of. Got stupidly drunk as a kid and did stupid things just because I felt like shit.” I bite my lip and avoid his gaze. “I’m better now. I’m a different person.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re over it and I hope you learnt from it and grew as a person.”

“Thanks, Bakugou.” I smile back at him. “Sometimes I feel insecure, but I try to remember my purpose in life.”

“Your purpose in life? What’s your purpose in life?”

“To be happy! And to make others happy too!” I grin at him. His eyebrows raise slightly, but he eventually returns my smirk.

“I’m so glad I got to know you today.” He says softly. “You were right. You really are different.”

“I told ya!”

“I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” He whispers and our eyes connect once more.

He gives my hand a squeeze and I lean in. Our faces are close together, but there’s a table in the way.

I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my voice low.

“Oh, c’mon! After I just said you weren’t like the others?” He jokes, laughing. He quickly goes back to looking serious. “I’d love to kiss you, honestly.”

He gets up and walks over to my side of the table, his pretty red eyes on me all the time. He leans in and I raise my head up, and slowly, our mouths connect. His lips are soft as they brush against mine, and I feel my heart beating fast.

We part and he looks at me, something in his gaze that I can’t recognise. I get up, my hands raising to cup his face before going in for another kiss. He meets me halfway, his lips parted and eager, and my tongue slips in effortlessly.

This kiss is longer but slower, more passionate. There’s an urgency behind it, but I don’t let him move any faster – I want us to savour the moment.

He pulls away from me, and he looks at the table with the almost full bottle of whiskey.

“I should go home. It’s getting late and I’m kinda tired. Had a bad day at work.”

“Oh! I still don’t know what you do.” I say.

“Well, that’s a question for next time.” He chuckles, leaning into me and burying his head into my neck, giving my earlobe a small nibble. 

“Yeah… sure…” I whisper, breathless.

“I… I think we should head to our respective homes. If not, we’re gonna end up fucking right in this room, and I don’t wanna give that half and half bastard the satisfaction of knowing what we did. Although the idea of destroying this place makes me want to do it… maybe someday.”

“Bakugou…” I whisper, my breath hitching in my throat as he traces a finger over my neck.

“Yeah, I know.” He pulls back, panting. “Let’s… another day. I think you’re special and I don’t want to make this day about just sex.”

“I understand.” I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. I feel all fuzzy and warm all over, and I don’t think it’s just the alcohol’s fault.

I pause. Should I ask for his number or should we just meet up another day?

Go to chapter 72 if you ask for his number

The almost lazy strums of the bass reach Katsuki’s ears just as he turns the key and opens the door to his house. Well, their house. Although he’s still getting used to living with her.

He hesitates at the entrance for a few seconds before finally taking his shoes off and walking into their living room.

She’s there, bass in hand, standing right next to a pile of music sheets, most of them thrown haphazardly all over the floor. Her brow is furrowed, just like how it gets when she’s deep in thought.

“The charity event?” He simply asks, letting the keys fall onto the little bowl that resides in the hall. The slight jingle they produce when they hit the ceramic surface pleases him.

“Uh-huh,” she replies, not looking at him.

“You could just use one of the other fifteen hundred songs you’ve already composed, you know? You don’t have to write another just for this.”

“I want to.” Kyouka finally seems to snap out of it as she tilts her head and directs her intense gaze towards him. “It’s not the same if I don’t.”

Of course it isn’t, and he kind of understands it.

Katsuki approaches her, but even when he’s standing in front of her, she doesn’t glance at him. He almost doesn’t reach his hand out to gently cup her face, but he’s glad he did when she lets out a soft sigh.

“You should relax.”

“The event’s in a week,” she replies, clicking her tongue. She frowns slightly when she hits a note wrong, unhappy with her work, “so please stop, you’re distracting me.”

He’s not good with words, especially not the ones he knows should be loving or nice. He doesn’t know how to tell her he’s worried about her, so instead, he lets his hands do the talking.

His fingers brush her neck lightly, and she shivers, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She seems angry, but she doesn’t shy away from his touch.

He tries to lean in and take her lips into a deep kiss but Kyouka moves away from him and he’s met with air instead.

“I said stop,” she whispers, glancing at him warningly.

Sighing, he drops to his knees, still looking into her eyes deeply. Her gaze is fixed on his, too. She seems mildly intrigued, like he’s letting him get on with it just out of curiosity; like she wants to know what he’ll do next.

His hands ghost over her thighs, but she doesn’t react at all. He fights the smile that’s dying to form and gropes the back of her legs instead.

That’s when he hears her breath hitch in her throat, and he finally lets the smirk spread on his face.

When he digs his nails into her tender flesh and drags them down, she plays a note on the bass guitar; but it sounds wrong, telling him he’s successful in his mission to distract her.

He uncurls his fingers and softly touches her skin, lovingly going over the red marks he’s left over her calves.

She shivers, and that only encourages him to grope further up. He digs his thumbs into the inside of her soft skin, dragging them slowly upwards, hoping to elicit more sweet-sounding noises from her.

Kyouka almost complies, but instead, she takes a step forward, and he has to throw himself back so as to not get hit by her bass.

“Stop messing around. I’m busy,” she remarks, turning slightly to the left and giving him a different view from his new position on the floor.

But Katsuki knows it’s just an act. He can tell by the small smile she sent his way just before forcing him back. She just wants him to play along, make it fun.

He repositions himself, dragging his body on hands and knees until he’s behind her. He doesn’t waste his time and bites her right calf a bit harder than he normally would, which makes her click her tongue and hastily swat at him.

“Playing hard to get won’t get you anywhere,” he whispers, grabbing her waist and steadying her. “But I do kinda like it, though.”

“I know you do.”

His hands go back to her leg, a thumb wiping off the saliva he left on the newly formed red patch on her skin. He doesn’t take long to let his hands touch higher up, and he almost gasps when his fingers ghost over her private parts—only to notice she’s not wearing underwear.

He’s not surprised—she’s not locked in her room. She wants to practice playing, but she wants him more. If it were the other way around, if she were actually worried about this charity event more than she’s horny, he wouldn’t have seen her in the living room, and they both know that.

And the best thing is, she’s wet.

He feels extremely excited. How sweet the sound of his fingers playing with her lips is, and only because she’s so absolutely drenched in that delicious nectar. He wants to suck on it until she screams, and hopefully he will.

Katsuki doesn’t know when she put the bass aside, but suddenly she’s turning around—now sans her instrument—and grabbing his hair, hard.

“Fucking do me,” she growls, her voice low and animalistic, much like his, “now.”

There’s an urgency in her tone that makes his jaw drop, and his trousers tighten. What has she been doing to be so worked up just because he played with her legs a little? Was this just a ploy to have him ravish her until tomorrow?

Not like he cares, though; so he discards all thoughts and stands up in search of her mouth. Luckily for him, Kyouka meets him halfway.

He sticks two fingers inside her, mainly to test the waters, and just with that, she’s almost quivering already, her legs shaking.

She practically howls when he digs them deeper into her, and he’s mesmerised by her sweet face contorting in pleasure.

Katsuki has Kyouka pushed against the table, and lifted on top of it seconds later. The surface is cold and hard, but his hands on her hips, and his crotch against hers makes her forget where she is. All she can do is concentrate on him, on his wet kisses and his low, needy growls.

She throws her head back to allow him access to her neck, not caring how hard she hits the table.

“You okay?” He mutters, barely lifting his face from her skin to look at her.

She answers with a noncommittal grunt, her hands going up to tug him down again, to which he responds by gently nipping at the flesh right under her ears. He darts his tongue out and tries to use it to fish her ear jack into his mouth.

“Stoooop!” She whispers, her pitch high as she moves her head away, embarrassed.

He scoffs at her response, but lets her go, straightening himself up. He purposely shoves their crotches together one last time, making Kyouka gasp. Her reaction makes his eyes sparkle, a thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

“I wanna fuck you. Right here, right now.” Katsuki says, his voice gruff.

“You could’ve started five minutes ago,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders in a bad attempt at trying to play it cool. Her flushed cheeks and erratic breathing give her away.

He’s dying to be inside of her, so when she lifts her legs up and places one on each shoulder, all he does is unzip his trousers while his other hand grabs the condom he snuck into his pocket just before getting home. Protection is important after all.

In just a few seconds, the wrapper is off and tossed away—landing on the floor somewhere—and he slides the rubber on effortlessly. Katsuki lowers himself until he’s hovering over her, but he pauses to stare at her, to admire how beautiful she is.

He knows just how insecure Kyouka is, how she’s always felt. But she’s the most precious thing in his life, and he’s not shy to show her every day. So, he reaches down and starts kissing her, slowly at first. He doesn’t dip his tongue in, he just lets their lips mesh together, melting his problems away.

He feels her toe brush against his ear, as she tries to nudge his body forward so it slides in perfectly. A short chuckle is caught in his throat, and he indulges her, thrusting into her deeply.

Grinding his hips, he grabs her by the waist, lifting her body up from the tabletop slightly. He thrusts hard into her while they stare lovingly at each other. She brushes her fingers over his cheeks, biting her lip and moaning every time he aims his dick just right, and when he does, Kyouka whispers his name incessantly, throwing her head back.

He loves it, loves her. Biting his lip and dragging his nails against her skin, he lets his passion consume him. The table bangs over and over against the wall with every one of his thrusts, but it doesn’t break neither of their spells.

Until a sudden knock on the door does.

“Kyou? Kat?” Eijirou’s loud voice booms from outside. “Did you forget I was supposed to go with you to the restaurant?”

They both pause, glancing at each other for a second before turning their heads towards the door.

“Fuck!” Katsuki mutters under his breath. He clenches his teeth and his eyes fall on Kyouka’s, seeing panic flash in them for a second.

“I forgot that was today,” she breathes, her voice merely a whisper.

“Should we ignore it? Maybe he’ll get bored and go away?”

She hesitates, her eyes roaming his face. She finally sighs, pushing him away to get up. “No, we should go.”

He lets a small groan escape him. “You sure?”

She nods, hopping off the table and adjusting her clothing. “Eijirou! We’ll be right out! Give us a minute!”

“I really wanted to continue,” he mutters, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her close, and hugging her, her back pressed against his stomach.

“I know, me too. We can do more when we come back.”

With a sigh, he removes the condom and zips his trousers back up. “Let’s go, then. You ready?” When she nods, Katsuki walks to the door, opening it and greeting his friend with a quick nod.

“Sorry, Ei, we were making music!” Kyouka chirps happily as she skips out of their house, hoping to distract the man with chit-chat so he doesn’t notice anything’s amiss.

“For the charity event, right?”

“Yeah! I’m excited!”

The walk to the car is weird. Katsuki’s trousers are tight, warm and slightly damp, and he’s sure Kyouka can feel how wet she is—it’s probably drenching her legs. The idea of it makes it harder for him to maintain his composure.

The drive to the restaurant is barely bearable. She’s doing the talking just because she knows he’s grumpier than normal—because they were interrupted while fucking. At least Eijirou is easy to distract, and on their way there, he does manage to calm down a lot.

Izuku, Ochako, Denki and Sero are already at the restaurant, waiting for them to arrive before ordering. Katsuki’s grown to like them over the years, so he does his best to exchange pleasantries with them as they wait for their meals. He asks them how they’re doing—after all, it’s been a while.

 ____________

The food is nice, and he guesses the company isn’t that bad, but Katsuki isn’t really paying attention to what his friends are talking about. Mainly because there’s a hand discreetly running up and down his leg seductively.

He turns his head and catches her staring back at him, a faint smirk on her face as she looks away. She accompanies this gesture by squeezing his groin slightly, but just hard enough that it leaves him breathless, forcing a small gasp out of him.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Izuku asks, worry painted on his face.

“Yeah, are you okay?” Kyouka grins wildly, as she starts to rub the sole of her left boot against his calf.

He clicks his tongue. “‘Course I’m alright,” he mutters, his right hand going under the table to quickly adjust his dick, already at half-mast. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her watching him do it.

“I need to go to the toilet,” she says, her chair scraping against the ground when she pushes herself away from the table.

Kyouka purposely doesn’t look at him as she makes her way towards the restaurant’s bathroom, but when she turns the corner and finally disappears, he gulps. Is this a test from her, or does she really want him to follow her? Either way, he decides quickly.

“Fuck, I think I forgot my wallet in my car,” he grumbles, pretending to check his pockets as he gets up, “I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay!” Eijirou chirps happily. “I can pay for you, bro! I don’t mind.”

Katsuki stares at him with almost hatred in his gaze, and his friend’s smile slowly diminishes.

“Or not,” the redhead finally whispers, tilting his head to the side.

“Be right back.” He hurries off towards the exit, but turns the corner and heads towards the bathroom instead. He opens the door and storms in, only to find Kyouka sitting on the sink, kicking her legs like she’s bored.

“This is the girl’s bathroom. What are you doing here?” She asks, a cheeky grin spreading on her face. She unfolds her arms and beckons him over. “Mmm, am I going to have to teach you manners?”

“If someone’s getting punished, it’s you. For torturing me all throughout dinner,” he whispers, leaning in as he grabs her face. He kisses her with passion, maybe being rougher than normal because he’s so wound up.

“You deserve it,” she mutters when she pulls away from his lips. She smiles again, pushing him away from her. Katsuki humours her and steps away, giving her space to jump off. “Now fuck me senseless until I can’t walk.”

“My pleasure.” He grunts, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into the nearest stall he walks—backwards—into.

Her fingers are already unzipping his trousers as he kisses her neck, and his dick is already out and hard before he’s reached her mouth.

“Wait,” he whispers, pulling his wallet out and grabbing the condom that’s been in there for at least a month. “We need this.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, snatching it from his hands just before falling to her knees on the cold floor. She pulls his cock into her mouth, her dainty fingers working the packet open as she starts bobbing her head up and down over his member.

“I’ll repay the favour later,” he whispers, a gasp escaping his lips. She pulls away and proceeds to put the condom on, his small whimpers dying out as the pleasure subdues.

“Do it now,” she replies, smirking as she gets up from the floor and turns around, lifting her skirt up just slightly. He doesn’t get much of a peek, but he slaps her behind quickly before entering her.

He groans into her neck as her warmth engulfs him. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he mutters, starting to move slowly. His hands grasp her hips tightly, pulling them towards him.

She moans and moves with him, whimpering every once in a while. He loves every little sound she emits; it makes him all the more excited.

“I wonder if they’ll come looking for us,” he groans huskily into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin.

“If they do, we’ll put on a show,” she mutters back, throwing her head back so he nuzzles his face into her neck. He nibbles at her flesh as he slowly increases the rhythm.

He knows it won’t take him long to come, not with how amazing it feels to fuck her senseless in a public bathroom, but he tries to please her as much as he can before he explodes. He starts rubbing her clit with two fingers—just like he knows she likes it—and she gasps, increasing the frantic rhythm of her own thrusts.

“I’m close!” she whispers, her hands flying back to grab onto him, pressing him against her body.

He can feel her insides tightening up, and that’s enough to send him overboard. Closing his eyes, Katsuki leans into her neck more, biting her shoulder hard to stop himself from crying out in bliss.

Nearly banging the wall, Kyouka stops herself from screaming by biting into her hand, but it doesn’t silence her moans completely. When they’ve both finally been spent, he pulls out and leans against the door, letting her go. She slides down and onto the floor, looking extremely happy.

“That was amazing,” she whispers, gazing into his eyes passionately. “I love you.

It isn’t worth it. 

“No, dude, c’mon… I thought we were gonna have a nice night out.” I say, trying to change the subject and change his mind. “It should just be us two. I’m super stressed out with my homework and my studies and I don’t want to think about anything.”

His face falls as he believes my fib and his brows knit together cutely.

“I’m sorry dude, I don’t wanna stress you out more. Do you want another drink?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh, wait, I know what’ll cheer you up!” Denki cries, excited.

“What?”

He smiles at me before pulling a grinder from his pocket and showing it to me. He quickly puts it away – aware of the illegality of what he’s holding, or seemingly at least – when he notices the recognition on my face.

“Why do you have that?” I hiss at him and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Do you want to try it?” 

I know he’s done it before. I remember being in high school with him, when he used to wishfully say that he wanted to try pot because he heard it felt good, and how excited he was when he told me he'd tried it.

Even if he sometimes smokes… should I?

Go to chapter 14 if you want to persuade him not to smoke

A sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes. All my fears… There’s no way such an attractive man would even talk to me, let alone look at me.

I’m not good enough for him.

“No. I can’t do it.” I whisper, dejected. I intertwine my fingers on my lap and look at them instead of at Denki, who I know is staring at me accusatively; I can feel his gaze on me.

“Okay, then.” He replies, leaning back against his own chair. “Don’t do it. It’s okay.”

“You’re angry. Please don’t be angry.”

“Nah, I’m not angry. I can’t say I’m not disappointed though. I am a little bit. But it’s your choice after all, I just never knew you were such a chicken…”

“Denks…”

“It’s okay, bro, as I said, your choice. But… out of curiosity, which one is he? Is he that blond dude over there?”

“Yeah…”

“He’s totally your type.”

“Shut up, I don’t have a type!”

“Look, you have a type, I have a type, we all have types.”

I’m not prepared to argue with him any more so I just let it go.

Denki sighs quietly. “I’ll go get us some more drinks.”

He gets up and squeezes my shoulder lightly as he walks past me.

A few minutes go by and he’s still not back so I decide to turn around. My eyes fall on the two blonds and I watch in horror as they kiss, Denki's arms wrapped around his neck and tiny waist, his fingers intertwining in short, spiky hair. 

I can only imagine what it feels like, silky to the touch despite its gruff appearance, much like the look of the man it belongs to. 

I bite my lower lip, feeling my tummy turn uncomfortably. I feel so hurt and betrayed. I only want to go home. 

Or maybe I should confront Denki? 

Go to chapter 64 if you go home