#perhaps??

There are only two of them, but fuck if they aren’t enough to rile up a crowd of horny queers. The tall one, Shouto, with his long red and white hair falling beautifully down his back, sometimes in a ponytail when they’re in their cheerleading getup. His high cheekbones and stunning heterochromatic eyes draw in customers of all kinds. He might be the less bold of the two, but he’s nonetheless magnetic to watch

Really, Katsuki is no better than the rows of single, sweating bodies foaming at the mouth for them in the pit. 

He watches as a woman bodyslams another for the chance to tuck a bill into Shouto’s skirt, shrieking when the guy drags his hand over hers and trails it down his abs before curling their fingers together under the waistband. 

Rinse and repeat. It’s enough to get several hundred in tips for just one night, which they gracefully split with him at their insistence. 

The other man is something straight out of Katsuki’s most sinful nightmares. 

Deku is what he goes by at the club, and fuck if he isn’t the most beautiful, clever little thing Katsuki has ever seen. His fluffy forest green hair curls just right under his ears and around the back of his neck. His tan skin and constellations of freckles stand out against the cherry red of the cheer uniform he’s donning tonight. 

He flicks his hips to the side, and the skirt pops up, revealing the slice of tantalizing skin between his white thigh-high tights and his matching jockstrap. 

Katsuki finds the jog wheel entirely by memory and slides his fingers along the curve, imagining it’s the smooth expanse of the man’s ass. 

The next song trickles in, warping smoothly with his transition, and the crowd screams at the familiar tune. Some popular remix from a new TV show almost entirely compromised of raunchy gay sex. He’s not entirely sure if it even has a plot; he hasn’t seen it. 

Normally, he refuses to play mixes that aren’t his… but Deku requested this one specifically, and who is he to refuse when it gets the man to squat down and roam his hands up his torso and to his neck- tilting his head to the side and-

His dick twitches in his pants. 

Glaring down at the traitorous thing, he scoffs and flicks off the reverb from the transition, pumping up the bass and letting the beat drop. He watches Deku bounce in time with the beat, hands spreading to his knees. 

Fuck. 

He groans, hips thrusting forward slightly without his permission. What he wouldn’t give to be in the audience right now, looking straight up at Deku’s thick fucking thighs. Maybe a peek at the bulge in his strap, maybe a sliver of forbidden skin if he gets lucky. 

After a brief break to look back at his set and take some deep, shameful breaths, he glances up again. Shouto’s gaze catches his, and the man smirks, tilting his head as he reaches out to the crowd without looking, letting their arms graze across his. 

Katsuki furrows his brow quizzically and busies himself with the board again. 

Dumb dancers, always fuckin’ up to something. 

He does a few flips with the track before the next drop, and takes a moment to look back up at the men now that his body has calmed down and he has a few seconds before-

They’re both looking at him. 

Red, gray, and green eyes, all turned toward his booth. Their bodies are pressed together, and they explore each other’s torsos with their busy hands for the audience.

Including me. 

He blinks a few times, almost missing his next cue. The lights flicker in time with the track, and between one flash and the next, Deku is smirking at him mischievously. 

He turns back to Shouto, licking up his chin to his mouth and allowing the other man to suck his tongue as they finally pull apart. 

So much for my body taking a fucking chill pill. Katsuki thinks as his dick is suddenly flooded with blood, his face paling as he realizes the green-haired man is slowly walking toward him. 

Shouto replaces him at center stage, and the crowd goes feral as he teases them with an upward tug of his slutty little cheer top. 

Katsuki doesn’t let himself keep watching, but soon he can see Deku out of his peripheral even as he works the set, he knows he’s fucked. 

He gives in when lithe fingers graze the edge of his booth. 

Handsome man, Deku signs at him when he looks up. 

Katsuki flushes, hoping the flashing club lights drown it out completely. 

Go dance, He replies. 

Deku pouts at him, eyes sparkling while he clearly prepares to spew some bullshit, You look lonely, sweetheart. Thought I’d join you. Heard you were looking at me, he nods back to the other dancer, still driving the crowd wild with whatever sexy shit he’s up to. The snitch.  

Katsuki rolls his eyes. Not your job to stand with me.

Deku shakes his head, smirking, No, not standing with you, but I know how I can still entertain from here. 

He slinks closer, walking his fingers up Katsuki’s forearm and it should be so cliche and dumb but he still shivers in anticipation. 

Nodding at his own hand, he glances up at Katsuki for approval, finding the man staring at him like a deer in headlights. 

He chuckles soundlessly, the pounding bass sucking the air out between them like a vaccuum. 

Deku leans forward until his lips touch Katsuki’s ear. He feels the vibration of the words more than hears them, but the message comes the cross all the same when the sentence ends in a higher pitch, and a soft tongue grazes his earlobe. 

He’s done watching. 

By memory, he flips the switch to halve the BPM, and turn up the rhythmic pounding of the base. The lights turn a deep blue along with it, and he allows himself a moment to slide his right hand back and around Deku’s waist. 

Their lips meet in a sloppy, perfect rhythm. Deku’s mouth still wet from Shouto, which is way hotter than it has any right to be. 

The lights flash again when the song drops, and Katsuki can tell the crowd has caught sight of them when the volume in the building somehow doubles. 

The lips on his morph into a smile, and Deku’s fingers trail up his arm to rest on his elbow. 

There’s no way a kiss like this is HR compliant. 

Deku’s abdomen brushes agains him, and he can feel the fabric of the cheer skirt brush over his pants, along with something else. 

Tongues brushing almost lazily, Katsuki flips the switch back down, doubling the BPM and speeding the bass up. It flows through his veins along with the pounding of his heart, out of his mouth and into Deku’s. 

Katsuki pulls back, sending Deku a heated stare. He leans in again and gives him a last sloppy kiss, before turning back to his kit. 

Deku squeezes his forearm and drags his fingertips down as he walks away, raising his arms and swaying his hips to the beat. 

Katsuki tucks his neck to his chest and grins. 

Next time he looks up to watch Deku, he finds green eyes already watching him back.