Chapter Text
He once heard that children are destined —cursed— to repeat the same mistakes their parents made. Sipping the last remnants of his champagne flute, surrounded by strangers who don’t care about him, Shouto is inclined to believe the statement must hold some truth.
The booming laughter coming from the other end of the room only worsens the ache in his chest. It feels like a vicious knife, getting twisted and twisted all over his poor, bruised heart.
His parents’ unhappy marriage tainted his childhood irremediably, and now, he’s trapped in the same situation. His only consolation is that his husband doesn’t beat or yell at him. He’s lucky like that, or maybe, since he’s already been kicked, punched, and belittled in all shapes and manners back when he was a kid, someone has decided to give him some room to breathe, a little peace. It doesn’t really matter because he’s so messed up, so fucked up in the roof… he kind of misses it. At least the bruises meant he was real, that he was worthy enough to receive some attention, even if it was that kind of fucked up attention.
Now he feels invisible. Worthless.
Feeling some eyes on him, he smiles politely and keeps drinking. He has no idea why his father has decided to throw a party in one of his hotels. It’s not as if it matters. His father told them to come, so they did. If Enji sends you an invitation with a time and place, it’s your duty to adjust your schedule to fit it. No one says no to Enji. No one. It’s a harsh lesson Shouto learned early on in his life.
Roaming around the room, Shouto smiles politely at the guests and makes small talk here and there. No matter where he goes, his eyes always move to the same corner of the room, the same one he’s been avoiding all night long.
Inasa is easy to spot. He’s always been a large man with a loud personality, and tonight, it’s no different.
Flagging one of the many waiters who pollute around, Shouto exchanges his empty glass for a full one. He drowns it in a couple of sips.
His husband’s eyes meet his, and for a second, Shouto lets the spark of hope reignite inside of him. He freezes, lips parted and grazing the edge of the flute, as people keep moving around, alien to them.
Please.
Inasa looks away, focusing on the group of guests he’s entertaining, his hands moving as he tries to illustrate something, whatever it might be he’s talking about.
He doesn’t deflate. Really, he doesn’t.
He should have known better. Theirs has never been a marriage based on love. The only reason Inasa agreed to marry him was the same as Shouto’s: to benefit their families’ business. However, there was a time when Inasa tried. In the beginning, he tried to befriend him, and for a split second, Shouto thought they could do it; he thought they could overcome the curse of his parents’ arranged marriage and be happy. That was until Enji stepped in and somehow, Insasa decided Shouto was the same kind of trash Enji is and thus, deserved the same treatment: absolute disdain and a cold shoulder.
Yet, here he is. Still trying to reach a husband who hates his guts and looks through him as if he were a ghost at best, as if he was shit stuck to the bottom of his shoes at worst. Still asking for help, a help he doesn’t even know why he needs. It’s been months, and Shouto is still trying.
Like last week, when he woke up in the middle of the night, body paralyzed in fear and cold sweat, it had taken him minutes that dragged on like hours until he was able to move. When he finally did, he tiptoed to his husband’s room at the other end of the house. He didn’t know why, didn’t understand why he was seeking the man, he just knew he needed to. He needed someone, someone to hold him, someone to hear him. Inasa’s room had been empty, and as Shouto stood in the middle of it, shivering, he realized he had no idea where his husband was or even if he had recently been in the room at all.
Someone approaches him, and Shouto blinks. His perfected blank expression remains, showing no cracks in the mask, just like he’s been trained. He hums every once in a while, to play and pretend that he knows what this guy is talking about, that he’s paying attention. His empty glass gets another refill and he keeps taking sips, nodding every few seconds to keep his façade up. More people join their small group, and he realizes he doesn’t need to keep pretending: no one is paying him any attention.
The whole room starts to spin, and he knows it’s not the alcohol; he’s not even that tipsy. It’s his anxiety, this asphyxiating sense that everything is coming to an end, that nothing matters anymore.
He’s nothing. He could stop moving at all, and no one would care. The guests at his father’s party don’t care about him. His husband doesn’t. He knows his father has never cared about him beyond being one of his multiple belongings: to use and discard whenever he feels like, and sometimes, not even that.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he whispers.
No one stops or glances at him for more than a few seconds, only reaffirming what he already knew.
Feeling a couple of eyes on him, he quickly scans the crowd, and for a second, his heart soars as he sees his husband looking in his direction, frowning. For an instant, Inasa seems on the edge of making his way to Shouto, almost as if he knew something was wrong. Black eyes silently asking if he’s okay. It makes the tiny flame of hope reignite in Shouto, but eventually, Inasa’s attention is snapped back to the crowd of guests that demand his attention, deeming Shouto lesser.
He wonders if it has all been in his head, if Inasa has even noticed that something was amiss.
Shoulders sagging in defeat, he slides away from the room and moves through the corridors aimlessly, staring at the floor and sticking close to the walls, moving hastily so no one will even glance at or bother him. It always works, and today, it’s no different.
He sees a half-empty bottle of champagne, forgotten on a staircase that leads to the rooftop. He takes it and decides destiny has talked enough.
He drowns the bottle as he takes the steps, swaying a little as finally, the liquor is hitting him. He only stops when he reaches the metallic door. A warning sign tells him to turn around, as only employees and authorized personnel are allowed. He tries his luck.
The door opens, and no alarm blasts, betraying his position. He’s still invisible, like he has felt his entire life.
The chill night breeze hits him as he walks straight to the edge of the roof, still taking big swings from the bottle until it feels light, empty. Just like him.
His fingers start to get numb, and the champagne slides from his grip, falling. He grimaces as he hears the glass shattering as it hits the dark pavement below him. He waits for someone to scream at him, warning him to be more careful or how stupid and useless he is… but no one does.
Gripping the railing tightly, he stares at the horizon, taking deep breaths. His heart is pounding in his chest, and once more, he feels that he’s drowning.
Closing his eyes, he takes one deep breath and—
“Wow, hey, hey, hey! Okay, stay right there. Look, whatever it might be, it’s not worth jumping, okay?”
Shouto startles, breath hitching. Slowly, he turns his head with his brows pitched. He sees one of the waiters, a young man with spiky blond hair, slowly approaching him. His hands are stretched out before him and his eyes won’t move away from Shouto. He seems ready to dash towards him. That idea makes him tingle.
“I’m not going to jump,” he tells him, perplexed.
The waiter nods. “Sure. Okay. Then could you please step down from the fucking railing?”
He glances down, and oh, he notices the man is right. His feet have moved by themselves, and he’s on the first of the three bars that compose the green metallic railing. As if it were magic, his stomach drops, and he realizes he’s precariously balancing himself over there. One hit from the wind and he could… He could have…
“I didn’t.” He cuts himself. Maybe he didn’t do it consciously, but… He glances down at the shattered pieces of the bottle and wonders, would it be that bad? His arms stretch a little bit, as if he were ready to glide even if he’s torn, shaking a little.
He can’t wonder about it for too long, as the man yanks him down, making him fall over his body, onto the safety of the rooftop’s floor. The air gets knocked out of their lungs from the impact, but it’s the blond who has it worse, as he has cushioned his fall. He’s groaning softly under him.
Shouto quickly moves away and apologizes frenetically. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay.” The man crawls closer to him and starts to pat him on the back in an awkward manner. It’s only then that Shouto realizes he’s crying.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry.” He keeps blahbing on.
He gasps as he feels the unknown man holding him tightly. It’s the first time in years that someone has held him like that. No. It’s the first time in his entire life that someone has.
This comfort is unfamiliar to him. He’s always been told not to cry or show weaknesses, that feelings are nothing but that—something he must suppress. The only comfort Shouto has ever found is the darkness and solitude of his room. Only then does he allow the dam to open, spilling out all his feelings, frustrations, and unrealized hopes.
His arms move by themselves and he hugs the blond back, tightly, pouring all the ache that his heart has stored. If he makes the man uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it as he keeps awkwardly soothing him.
“Sir, it’s, uh, okay. C’mon, just let it out, I guess. If not, just punch the shit out of someone. Whoever it is that has made you suffer like this. It works marvelously well. Better them than you. Scout’s honor.”
His words make him chuckle dryly. “I’m afraid, I’d have to hit myself then.”
The man’s eyes narrow as he clicks his tongue. “Bullshit. No one gets hurt that much by their own hands, Sir—”
“Shouto. Just call me Shouto, please. Sir makes me feel old.” He pleads softly.
“You are old, Shouto. That suit is awful. It makes you look like you're in your nineties. Aren’t you loaded or something? One would think that with such money, you could afford something stylish," he teases him.
He snorts. “I agree. You should see my father’s or my husband’s. Both are even more obnoxious.”
He has been blessed with the sight of his father’s tie. Flames? He wonders how his father has ever dared to question his style. Has he looked at himself in the mirror? Or his closet. Shouto knows it’s full of gaudy suits.
The man tilts his head and glances at him, studying his face. He does it for a couple of beats before his eyes widen in recognition. “Oh, fuck me. You’re Todoroki Shouto.”
“No. Please,” his voice quivers. “Please don’t… Just Shouto.”
The only sounds on the rooftop are the wind and the little metal swing from the chains hanging from one of the walls. His mouth feels dry as he waits. He can sense himself spiralling; the hollow inside his chest swallowing him as he realizes he has lost this, whatever this might have been, this recognition of himself as a human being, even if only for a few minutes. For once, someone has seen him.
“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki, Shouto.”
He feels happy, a foreign emotion he thought he had lost the ability to feel. Even if it’s something silly and stupid, the fact that someone recognizes his identity and calls him by his name makes him jubilant. He cries again, and that makes Katsuki panic.
“Oi, oi, oi! Why the fuck are you crying now?”
“You said my name…” He sobs, “People only see my surname. I’m nothing.” He confesses in a breath. He stiffens as he realizes he has said it aloud. He didn’t mean to do that.
“Bullshit,” Katsuki spits. He grabs his face and forces him to look him right in the eyes. They are ruby red and catlike. Truly stunning. “You are not nothing. Fuck whoever says otherwise. Do you remember what I just told you? Punch whatever motherfucker ever dares to hurt you. Beat them up and stand proud of yourself.”
“Is that what you do?”
“Fuck yeah, and no one has ever dared to step on me. Give them hell, and nobody would ever dare to cross paths with you. Never again.”
He closes his eyes and imagines it. He pictures himself punching his father and telling him to beat it. It sounds nice. Impossible, too, but it’s an enjoyable scene. One he hasn’t dared to think about in years…
“Thank you, Katsuki.”
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles awkwardly. “If I let you go, will you be okay? Promise me you won’t get close to the roof’s edge or some other shitty, dangerous place, alright?”
He swallows and nods. The moment the man lets him go, he already misses the comforting touch of his arms around him. He hasn’t felt this peaceful in a long, long time. He’s starting to wonder if he ever has.
Only then, he notices Katsuki’s waiter uniform seems to be ripped a little bit from the impact against the floor, as well as wet on the shoulder he has cried against. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Please, let me repay you.”
“Tsk. It’s fine. Uh, don’t worry ‘bout it. Night’s almost over, anyway. I’ll just lie and be done with it. Probably will be sent to the kitchen or to take out the trash. Hey, do you have someone I should put in the dumpster? I mean, since I’m already on it…”
He can’t help it, a bubble of laughter escapes through his lips. Ashamed, he quickly tries to hold it back.
“Don’t,” Katsuki says. “If you are mad, you should scream. If you are sad, cry. If you are happy, laugh. Otherwise, you.” He glances at the railing.
“Would end up drinking on the edge of a building and almost jumping off?” he finishes dryly. Shaking his head, he smiles. “Thank you, it’s the first time I’ve laughed in months.”
“Hubby doesn’t make you laugh? Not even with his clothing sense?”
The tease is like a slap in the face. All the good vibes and amazing feelings he had gathered disappear into thin air. He snaps out of it and heads toward the staircase. Gripping the doorknob tightly, he then turns around and thanks the man once more.
“Katsuki? Thank you. I hope you don’t get in trouble because of me.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer before he leaves him there, still on the concrete ground where he had fallen when he had saved him.
Rushing down the stairs, he reaches the lower main floor and quickly heads to the nearest bathroom. It’s empty, a small miracle, he guesses—another breathing margin for him.
The mirror shows him what he already knows: he looks terrible. His eyes are dull, and his pale cheeks are sunken. He hasn't felt like eating lately. He touches his reflection in the glass and sighs. He recalls Katsuki’s words: stand proud of yourself… But how? How can he feel proud of himself when he’s nothing but a puppet for his father? When was the last time he made a decision on his own and for his own sake?
His eyes slide from his face, falling on his suit, and he realizes he didn’t even choose it. It was the tailor who did. He simply said, ‘I don’t care,’ and even if he doesn’t, shouldn’t he at least give it a try?
Exiting the bathroom, he takes a deep breath and heads back to the lounge when he hears some commotion coming from the kitchen area. He recognizes one of the voices.
Katsuki.
As he makes his way there, he quickly gets a grasp on what is going on.
“That’s enough!” He says. The double doors of the kitchen swing behind him. Everybody freezes at his authoritative tone. He has just imitated his father’s voice, something that he never thought he would do. But then his true personality comes through as he gently adds, “Please?”
The man who was fighting with Katsuki glares at him and narrows his eyes. “Sir, this isn’t your business. Please, step away from the kitchen. This area is not permitted for guests. Go back to the party. Todoroki-san doesn’t want—”
He sees the anger ignite in Katsuki’s eyes. He knows nothing good is going to come out of this. Still, he doesn’t do anything.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Katsuki roars before he laughs, pointing at Shouto as he reveals, “he’s a Todoroki, you knucklehead. He’s your fucking boss, asshole! This is his kitchen. He can do whatever the fuck he wants.”
The manager pales a little and quickly looks at him. Shouto knows his hair is a clear giveaway, as well as his turquoise eye. He’s half his father’s vivid image after all. Even if he’s shorter and smaller, they look alike, not to say identical. He has always despised that.
“Oh,” the man feebly says. “I didn’t recognize you, sir. Please, forgive me.”
“It’s okay.” He dismisses. Seeing that the man won’t let it go, he decides to be honest. “I actually wanted to apologize to Mr… Uh, Katsuki.” Damn, he doesn’t know his full name. Won’t it look weird that he’s so casually addressing him? “I, uh, I tore his clothes earlier. He helped me, and in the process, I tore them. Isn’t this why he was being scolded? Well, it was my fault.” He bows. “Please accept my deepest apologies for any inconvenience that might have been caused due to my actions.”
The silence takes over the kitchen. Even the cooks stop their movements. The hubbub from the party reaches them.
"Uh, so, he wasn’t lying?”
Shouto looks at the gathered crowd. They all seem dubious, eyes shifting from him to Katsuki.
“No. He was telling the truth.” He glances at Katsuki, then at the manager. An idea pops into his mind. “Please, could you make sure he’s paid for the whole night? I’d like to request his assistance for myself. He won’t go back to the kitchen. Instead, he’ll be working under my direct orders. Is that okay?”
“Yes, yes, of course. The boy is all yours, but Todoroki-san, maybe someone else would be more suited. This one is a little rebellious and foul-mouthed—”
“He’s perfect and has helped me already.” He interrupts curtly.
Katsuki seizes it and quickly moves toward him, pulling him toward the back door.
The second it closes behind them, Shouto starts to apologize again.
“Jeez, would you drop it already?!” The blond snaps.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles.
Katsuki huffs and kicks a pebble. “Yeah, you said so already. You know, call me crazy, but I’ve got the feeling you spend the whole time apologizing.” Clicking his tongue, Katsuki looks mad for a second before he turns his back on him. “That husband of yours, he seems like a dick. Say, does he make you apologize for existing or what?”
He blinks, caught by surprise. Katsuki knows Inasa?
“Uh, no? I mean, he’s not a dick. He’s just… loud. He treats me well, he—” Shouto stops.
Inasa treats him well, right? He doesn’t hit him or force him or something. He could, but he doesn’t. That must count for something.
He even tried to befriend him.
It’s no one’s fault. Theirs is an arranged marriage. Nothing else, there’s no love, not even friendship. It has never been a requisite in this whole deal that they had to get along or be there for the other. After all, they are too different. Inasa tried to close the gap between them, but it’s quite impossible with his father mingling, and it’s not as if Shouto has tried to reach him either, now, has he? Perhaps he has tried a little, but he could have tried more.
“Does he hurt you?” Katsuki grunts, cutting his thoughts.
Shouto’s head snaps up, and he’s shocked to see that Katsuki seems beyond furious.
“NO! He and I, we just. Mmh…”
Katsuki clenches his fists, shaking in rage. “You don’t have to cover for him. You want me to kick his ass? I don’t give a fuck if he’s stronger than me. I ain’t a loser, I’m not afraid. I’ll still win and—”
His angry rambling makes him chuckle. “Thank you, but there’s no need. He has never hurt me. Well, maybe a little, but not in the physical sense. I just.” He glances at the door and quickly moves away. He doesn’t want anyone to accidentally hear them.
Katsuki silently follows him through the streets until they are a few blocks away from the hotel, into a nearby small park.
“We can sit on that little stone wall if you want," Katsuki points. “Mind if I smoke?”
Shouto shakes his head. “I don’t. Mind if I take a drag?”
Katsuki snorts. “Why? Rich boy can’t afford his own smokes? Tsk. Shame on you, taking advantage of a lowly student like me.”
“Are you a college student?” He asks him with mild curiosity. He knew he was younger than he, but he didn’t know by how much. So he must be in his early twenties, interesting.
“Yeah.” Katsuki lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag before he offers it to him.
They smoke in silence before he takes a deep breath and lets it all out.
“We’re not in love. We’ve never been. It was just a marriage of convenience that my father orchestrated. I’m just tired of being trapped in there. I feel that there’s no exit, no way out. Nothing. Tonight, I just exploded.” He faces him. “I swear I never wanted to jump. That wasn’t my intention.” I think. He doesn’t voice his slight hint of doubt. He’s no longer sure of his actions, not anymore.
Katsuki takes another drag and seems to be mulling over what he has just thrown at him.
“Maybe you didn’t, Shouto, but the facts are there. Your body moved, and you could have done it. If I hadn’t been there, you could be dead by now. You get that, right?”
A shiver runs through him. Even if he has done it in a really curt and blunt way, Katsuki is right. He could be dead right now if Katsuki hadn’t been there. Swallowing, he nods.
“Why don’t you just divorce and move away?” The blond asks him. Snorting, he shakes his head. “Must be the money and the ‘what would they say’, right?”
“I don’t care about that,” he mumbles.
Katsuki snorts. “Sure you don’t.” He tugs the sleeve of his suit. “How much did this cost, huh? I’m sure it must have been at least half of my year’s rent. Trust me, rich boy, if you had to live in my hood, you’d be running up the hills… But that doesn’t change the fact that you should still do it.” His voice changes from teasing to seriousness in the span of a second. He stares into his eyes as he utters, “better live than not live at all, you got me?”
Shouto considers it. “I highly doubt I could do that. No way my father would allow it. Inasa’s family has a business company that works with my father’s, and—”
“Pfft. You got married to your daddy, or what? A divorce is between you and the asshole you married. Daddy has nothing to say. What’s he gonna do? Not talk to you ever again? Good riddance.” He finishes his smoke and stomps it out.
Shouto stares at him, gaping.
“I can’t do that. You’ve no idea of what he’s capable of doing. My mother—” He snaps his mouth shut and hastily stands up. “Thank you for your assistance. Have a good night.”
He tries to move away, but Katsuki grabs him. “Hey, hey, hey, wait. Hold on a second. I, uh… Fuck. This ain’t my business, but not every day I almost witness something like tonight.” He mumbles quietly. Even if he’s younger than Shouto, they are roughly the same height, yet his presence makes Shouto feel smaller. He feels like a little kid. “I can’t just let you go like that. Tell me, why are you so afraid? Don’t deny it. You are shaking.”
He realizes he is. He’s trembling like a leaf.
His mouth opens, but he closes it. He can’t. Even if he has spilled his secrets about his marriage and his insecurities, he can’t snitch on his father.
He’s pathetic. Lowering his eyes, he tries to take a step back, but Katsuki doesn’t let him.
“Want to come home with me?”
The invitation is so sudden that it takes him by surprise. His eyes widen, and he can feel his face warming.
“Not like that!” Katsuki quickly rushes. “Not like that. I just doubt I’d be able to sleep. I won’t stop thinking about you and if you are, you know, taking a swan dive from another rooftop or something.”
Oh. For a second, he imagined what it would be like if someone touched him like that. It’s been too long since someone did. It’s quite hard once you are married to someone who doesn’t like you one bit. And the key difference between his parents and himself is that there’s no need for them to, since no kid is ever going to come out of it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He considers it. He guesses he doesn’t have anything to lose, does he? And Katsuki is an extremely attractive man.
“Why not?” He mumbles. He takes a step closer to Katsuki and tries to think about what he should do to seduce him. He thinks about all the women who flirt with Inasa, his father, or him; they’re always touching.
He pats Katsuki’s chest, but it comes awkwardly.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He stops and glances up. Katsuki’s eyes are narrowed. He’s studying him intently, trying to understand what’s going on, what Shouto is so clumsily trying to do. Comprehension slowly appears in his widening eyes.
“Sleep with me,” blurts Shouto.
“What? Fuck no!” Katsuki takes a step back and shakes his head. “No, no. You’re married.”
“It doesn’t count,” he points.
“You almost killed yourself, and I know you’ve been drinking. Fuck… you were holding a bottle up there. No. No. Sorry, but no. I don’t have money or time to fight against a legal demand just because tomorrow you decide to sue me or some shit like that.”
“I won’t,” he pleads. “Please, just.”
Katsuki frowns and stares at him. “Why me? Why not your husband? Pretty sure he won’t say no. Fuck, wait, forget that. Shit. Oh, fuck,” he looks up at the sky and growls, cursing under his breath. Shouto only understands half of what he’s saying. Something akin to ‘why him’ and about a peaceful night.
He’s done it again. He’s just a bothersome annoyance.
“I’m sorry. Please forget it. I’ll leave you be. Have a good night.”
He starts to turn around when Katsuki grabs him once more, and this time, he turns him around and kisses him. It’s over before he can even reciprocate, and Katsuki is smugly looking at him.
“Knew it.” He snorts. “You don’t want that, Shouto. You are just emotionally unstable right now. Sex ain’t gonna fix jack shit. You can still come with me, alright?”
He’s kind of offended by his words. What does he know? But once more, he just lets others decide for him. Shrugging, he follows Katsuki back to the hotel, but rather than enter there or access the main parking, they keep walking until they reach an old car parked on a side street.
“Get in, princess. Your carriage awaits.”
Frowning, he does as Katsuki has told him. “Princess?”
“Yeah, you’re a spoiled little princess. You should have seen the look on your face when I said no. Not used to people saying no, huh?”
“Quite the opposite,” he mumbles as his fingers toy with the dashboard. He’s not used to getting what he wants.
The silence in the car gets heavy. He’s not a social butterfly, so he has no idea what to do.
“Your car is old.” He points.
Katsuki snorts. “Not up to your standards?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Katsuki hums as he speeds through the streets. “I’m afraid you might not like my flat either. It’s nothing too fancy, quite small, but it’s clean and tidy.”
“I don’t mind. Thank you.”
He doesn’t see him, but he knows he’s rolling his eyes. “Stop doing that. Just don’t pull more bullshit on me and we’ll be alright, got it?”
He nods and then says it aloud as he realizes Katsuki can’t see him.
When they reach the apartment, he sees it’s indeed a small building, in a part of the city he has never been to before. He only knows this is where the blue-collar workers live. There’s not even an elevator, and Katsuki lives on the third floor.
Panting, he reaches the floor with Katsuki scoffing and teasing him about it.
The interior of the apartment is homey. He sees piles of books and notebooks, tidy and ordered, and as he approaches them, he’s marveled to see the complex mathematics they contain.
“What do you study?”
“Engineering. I bet you did something boring like law or business.”
“Both,” he mumbles. “My father told me to get both degrees. I spent my days studying, attending morning and night classes.”
“When the fuck did you live?”
Shouto blinks, perplexed, and cocks his head, considering the question. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Partying, going out with friends, boyfriends. Does any of that ring a bell?”
“Oh.” He fidgets in his spot and bites his lip. “I didn’t. I never. I wasn’t allowed any of that. I never had friends, the boys from my boarding school and I…” He grimaces as he recalls those years. “Let’s just say, we didn’t get along. I only attended parties I was invited to, and those were on weekends and—”
Katsuki stops him. “Not those kinds of parties. College ones. You know, drink till the sun rises, lousy music that makes you want to kill—” He snaps his mouth close and coughs. “Uh, never mind that.” His terrible attempt to be kind touches Shouto. It’s quite obvious Katsuki doesn’t usually censor himself. “How old are you?”
“29.” He answers.
“Mmh, that means you are like a decade older than me, a little less. I’m gonna be 20 in a month or so. Okay, I guess that if we fix you, you won’t look that old.”
Shouto frowns. Why would he want to look younger?
Katsuki grins and pushes him down the hall. “This is my bedroom, tonight you take it. I’ll sleep on the couch. Don’t even try it, princess. And tomorrow, what the fuck are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t work?”
“It’s Saturday, Katsuki,” he replies, amused. “Even us, the so-called grown-ups, have this thing called weekends.”
He gets smacked for his comment. “Alright, wiseass, then tomorrow you and I are going to a party.”
“What?” He gasps.
Katsuki dodges him and goes straight to his closet. He pulls some clothes and tosses half of them towards his bed, and the others he keeps on his forearm. “Those are for you. I’ll go to the bathroom first, then you can go. It’s that door we’ve just passed by.”
Shouto tries to protest, but Katsuki ignores him, closing the door in his face.
Staring at the white painted wood, he scratches his head and wonders how he has ended up here. How can someone go from feeling so depressed to the point he almost did what he did, to end up invited to a college party? It’s absurd!
His phone beeps. It’s his father demanding to know where he is.
I was feeling sick. Food poisoning. I’m still throwing up.
His father reads the message but adds nothing else. He knew he wouldn’t. He almost waits for Inasa to text him, but nothing happens. Sighing, he locks the phone and waits, leaning on the wall next to the bathroom for Katsuki to come out.
The boy does, shirtless, with droplets of water falling down his chest from his wet hair. “What the fuck are you doing?” He snaps at him.
Shouto can’t stop staring at his defined muscles. He’s always liked them, and it was one of the reasons why he agreed to marry Inasa. He’s easy on the eyes, he has to give him that, but Katsuki… he’s even more stunning.
“Uh, hum, mmh.” His brain only comes up with that.
Katsuki snorts amusedly and folds his arms over his chest, cheekily smiling as he leans against the doorjamb. “Cat got your tongue, princess? Tsk. I won’t break my promise, though. I think it’ll be more of a hassle than anything. Let’s see how shit goes down tomorrow, and we’ll see,” he mumbles, leaving Shouto confused. What does that mean?
Katsuki doesn’t clarify it; he makes his way down the hall, towards the couch, waving his hand with a dismissive, “g’night.”
As Shouto lies on the bed, surrounded by Katsuki’s scent, he wonders once again how he ended up here. He grabs his phone and unlocks it, only to find no messages from his husband.
He goes to sleep.
The party is nothing like he expected or imagined it to be. He guesses he should have. He might have never attended one, but he has seen the movies that depicted them.
This morning, when he woke up, Katsuki was already up and gone. Breakfast was served on the table, along with a brief note telling him that Katsuki had gone out for a run and that Shouto was expected to still be there once he returned. When Katsuki had done so, Shouto was sitting on the same chair he had ordered him to stay in.
“What the fuck?!”
“You told me to stay put. Those were your exact words. Stay put, don’t fucking move.”
Katsuki had blinked and tilted his head. “You. You… Holy fuck. Do you always obey everything you are told?”
“Yes?”
Katsuki then had blushed a little and uttered something under his breath before he had hastily left him right there.
The rest of the day had been weird. Katsuki had given him a book and told him to read it while he studied for his courses. Then, from time to time, he would ask Shouto to do things like bring him a glass of water or fetch him a book from his bedroom. Whenever Shouto did, Katsuki stared at him with narrowed eyes, studying him like a bug under a microscope before he mumbled a quiet thanks.
He’s sure it was some kind of test, but he’s unsure what it exactly involved or whether he passed it. He also doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer or prefers to stay in the dark.
In the end, Katsuki kept his promise and dragged him to the infamous college party. And here he is, wearing Katsuki’s clothes. Even his hair has been brushed in a more ‘modern-looking style’, according to Katsuki. Whatever that might mean.
He feels overwhelmed by the loud music and how its beat reverberates through his body, the permanent stink of alcohol in the air, and the drunk college students who are everywhere with zero respect for personal boundaries whatsoever.
Katsuki laughs at him but seems to pity him a little as he takes a couple of beer cups and ushers them upstairs, where there are fewer people. Shouto gasps when he sees Katsuki opening a window and stepping outside, onto the rooftop.
The blond freezes and eyes him. “Don’t jump.” He orders him. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I wasn’t. It’s just, isn’t it, like dangerous?”
Katsuki snorts. Shouto follows him. Katsuki gently helps him, grabbing his hand, and once he almost slips, grabs him by the waist.
Once they reach a flatter area, Katsuki releases him and gives him an amused smirk. “So this is dangerous, but last night wasn’t? Mmh, you were really drunk last night, or what?” He sits down and pats the spot next to him. “You can choose not to answer, but I’d like you to do. Be honest, have you even done something like that? Or thought about it? Or about hurting yourself?”
Shouto shakes the cup slightly, watching as the yellow liquid moves and splashes a bit.
“I feel empty.” He says at last. “But no, never. I just. I needed to get out of there, out of the room, and then I just—” He sighs and stares ahead. “I have never done anything like that, no.”
Katsuki hums and leans back on his elbows as he takes a lazy sip. “Think you might do it again?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to die?”
“No.”
They stare at each other, and Katsuki seems to accept his answer as he nods and looks away. Shouto drinks and then frowns. “Wait. You aren’t supposed to drink. You are not—”
“This is a party, princess. Most of these guys have been drinking since high school.”
His nonchalant answer takes aback Shouto. Is this something regular teens do? What exactly has he missed?
He takes a long gulp of his beer and grimaces. He has never liked its flavor, but this one is even more sour than the ones he has taken before. Katsuki snorts, amused by his reaction.
Shouto’s phone beeps. He glances at it and sees it’s just an email from a newsletter he should unsubscribe from, but never does.
“Hubby?”
“No. He hasn’t contacted me.”
“What?”
Shouto glances back over his shoulder and is surprised to see that Katsuki looks angry.
“What’s wrong?”
Clenching his teeth, Katsuki asks him, “You only told your father that you were sick, right? Last night? That’s what you said.”
“Yes.”
“And no one has called or texted you today, no contact whatsoever to check on you.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Katsuki blinks at him before he bellows, “Why ain’t you mad!?” Shouto startles, but the blond is far from done. “You could be dead. Like, I don’t know, a car could have hit you or something. You’re filthy rich, someone could have kidnapped you or… Whatever. You told’em you were sick, and you’re telling me no one cares enough to fucking call you and annoy the fuck out of you? Even to check if you are fucking drinking water? And your husband! Like, you haven’t been home since yesterday. Isn’t he wondering where the fuck you are?”
Shouto feels a knot in his throat. He has always known that he’s invisible, nothing, just a pawn for his father’s business… but when someone says it aloud, it hurts. And he doesn’t even want to begin with Inasa.
The hollow in his chest doubles. He feels drained.
Katsuki snaps his fingers, demanding his attention. “Fuck, don’t look like I’ve just kicked your puppy. Get drunk, princess. Let loose. I’ll take care of you. I ain’t going anywhere, I promise. You ain’t invisible to me.”
His words shock him to the core. Has he said that aloud? Too afraid to ask Katsuki, he drowns the awful-tasting drink and takes the one Katsuki offers him, his own. He drinks it too and lies back down on the tiles, next to Katsuki, who lights a cigarette.
They wordlessly share it as the beer starts to take effect. At one point, Katsuki leaves and quickly returns with a couple more cups. Shouto drinks them under the attentive eye of Katsuki, who looks beyond amused as he encourages him to drink, drink, drink!
Tipsy, he makes his way downstairs with his assistance. The crowded room no longer looks so intimidating. When some people notice them, they silently invite them to join the dance floor. It looks like fun. Shouto wants in. Wirling around, he asks Katsuki to join him.
“Nah, not my thing. You do. Get wild,” is the answer he receives.
Biting his lip, Shouto does. At first, he feels stiff and inadequate. He knows he doesn’t move or look as fluid as the others, but as he closes his eyes, he can hear Katsuki’s words: who cares. He lets loose. Somehow, the rhythm finally clicks with him and he starts to move, truly move. People flock toward him. He loses count of how many girls and young men he dances with. Still, his eyes always seek Katsuki’s, and true to his word, the blond is always there. Intense red eyes never drift away from him. Shouto always feels more energized whenever their eyes meet; his hips always sway easily whenever it happens.
He meets all kinds of people. Their faces are blurry, and he has to keep dodging the question of what major he’s doing since, well, he’s not a student.
In all, he has fun, and when they leave, he kisses Katsuki’s cheek sloppily as one of the girls in the party has done to thank him for helping her.
“Thank you,” he slurs. “That was fun! Wish you’d joined me, tho.”
Katsuki snorts and mumbles a ‘whatever, princess’ while he keeps dragging him back to the car.
“Well, that was your first party, a real one. Guess you enjoyed it, huh? You surely looked like you did… We’ll see if tomorrow, when you wake up, you are, oh, so grateful.”
He’s not. When he wakes up, his head is pounding. The sun irritates him to an extreme he never thought possible. Groaning, he sees a glass of water with a post-it that has an arrow pointing down to a couple of pills. He takes them and drinks the water before he huffs and falls back into the siren’s call of a bed Katsuki owns.
Throwing an arm over his face, he grunts in annoyance. His body aches. Everything hurts. Even his eyelashes! How is that even possible? If this is the aftermath of parties, how do people actively seek to repeat the experience over and over?
“Good morning, princess!” A booming voice startles him. “I see you’re feeling like shit, huh? Well, well, well, I told you so, still, it was fun. C’mon, you’ve got to admit it.”
Shouto throws him a pillow and hides a little smile. Yes, from the bits he remembers, it was rather enjoyable. He has never talked with so many different people and laughed so much. It was bizarre. His cheeks hurt, and it took him a while to find out it was because he was smiling.
Katsuki bounces on his bed, making Shouto gasp as he slides towards him. He finds his face next to a clad black thigh. Glancing up, he sees Katsuki’s eyes boring into his and the hint of a smirk on his lips.
“Sit.”
Shouto moves away from him and does. Katsuki chuckles and licks his lips. “Interesting, really interesting… I bet you don’t even realize it, huh?”
His cryptic words make him wonder what he is talking about.
Clicking his tongue, Katsuki stands up and hurries him to join him outside. Shouto stays right where he is for three seconds, wondering about what Katsuki meant. Shaking his head, he pads right behind the other man.
Another breakfast is waiting for him. His mouth waters, but he waits for Katsuki to give him the go, he’s not sure if it’s for him or—
“Go on, eat. We need to talk, but we can do it while eating.”
Shouto nods and sits down on the chair while Katsuki kicks one in front of him and plops down, with his elbows on the table, staring at him. Shouto doesn’t mind. He’s used to Katsuki studying him by now.
The food is delicious and miraculous, as his headache is going away, just as Katsuki promised.
“Have you ever heard of BDSM?”
He chokes and stares at the blond with wide eyes. What? Why is he asking him that?
Coughing, he sees Katsuki is waiting for his answer. “That’s a sex thing, right?”
“Yes… and no. It can be a sex thing, yeah, but it can also be something else. Inside of BDSM, there’s the whole dom/sub part. Okay, it’s mostly a sex thing, but it can also be something non-sexual, or used in non-sexual scenarios.”
Shouto nods slowly as he keeps eating. He tries to understand where Katsuki is going with that.
“I’ve noticed something,” Katsuki says. He glances up and waits for Katsuki to keep talking. The blond does. “You follow orders and commands without even thinking about it. Is it something you enjoy?”
He frowns and stops eating as he recalls all the times his father hit him whenever he tried to step out of line. “No. I can’t say I particularly do.”
Katsuki hums. “What if I were the one who gave you the orders? Would you mind it then?”
Once more, he feels lost. “I don’t understand.”
Leaning back, Katsuki studies him. “You see, I like to boss around, and you seem to enjoy following me down to a T. And you propositioned me two nights ago, and last night, you tried it once more.” Shouto’s breath falters as he doesn’t recall that. Before he can apologize, Katsuki stops him. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. It’s quite flattering. Okay, since you don’t know anything, why don’t you look it up? Think about it, if it’s something you would like to try.”
Shouto nods but bites his lip as he recalls Katsuki’s words when he first tried to seduce him. “Didn’t you say it was not worth it?”
“I didn’t say that. I just said that the cons outweighed the pros, but now that I know more about you, I’ve reconsidered it. Your phone is still on?”
His hands move automatically to his pockets, but he finds it’s useless. He’s wearing Katsuki’s sweatpants, not his. Standing up, he quickly moves back to the bedroom and seeks his phone. It’s on the night table, right beside the empty glass of water. He picks the two items and returns to the kitchen.
Katsuki takes the glass as Shouto checks that his phone is indeed still on. He has no messages or new calls. The knot in his throat constrains him more.
“By your face, I’m going to assume no one has contacted you,” Katsuki mumbles darkly. “Well, that sets it. Do you still want to fool around?”
Shouto is shocked by the question. It comes out of nowhere, but he knows the answer. It’s no brainer.
“Yes.”
“You sure you don’t mind cheating on your hubby with me, a poor college student?”
Shouto smiles and leans into the table. “Do you mind being with someone who is 10 years your senior? Or someone who is… emotionally unstable?”
Snorting, Katsuki approaches him. “Everybody’s got troubles. You’re fucked up, yeah, but it’s whatever. Does my curtness bother you? I’ve been told that sometimes I’m too blunt.”
Shouto shakes his head. “I appreciate honesty.”
The blond stops once he reaches him. Shouto stills as he sees his right hand raise, approaching his face until he sets it right under his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. He instantly relaxes. “Mmh, I never thought that I would be doing this. You have a pretty face, princess.” Katsuki’s whispered words make him shiver as his hot breath reaches his face, but it’s the words that truly make his stomach feel funny. “Tell me something, when was the last time that idiot touched you?”
“Never. He has never done it. There’s never been a need to and my father made sure he hates my guts so…”
Katsuki’s brows scrunch. “What?”
The spell is broken.
Shouto glances away as Katsuki takes a step back.
“He tried,” he explains in a shaky whisper. “At first, he tried to befriend me and I guess we kind of got along. We both knew what we were getting into and everything was rushed. Two days after our first meeting, we were signing the papers. Then, my father took him to his office and when he left it, he just.” He embraces himself as he recalls the look of hatred Inasa addressed to him. It’s obvious he has realized that whatever lie his father fed him is not true, but still, he’s wary and distant. At least, Shouto hopes Inasa has done so. “No. I, uh, I only got a couple of dates with some guys some years ago. That’s it.”
“Holy fuck! How are you still alive?”
That makes him laugh. “Well, when I was younger, I was kind of horny, but I got over it and anyway, I never got a moment to actually do anything to solve it, so…”
“You just gave up.” Summarizes Katsuki.
He supposes that’s a good way of putting it, so he shrugs. “Sex is not a necessity. I got over it.”
“Oh yeah, you got super over it,” Katsuki snorts. “You’re so over it, you tried to seduce me after your traumatic experience. Super-duper over it. Okay, let’s forget about the BDSM thing for now. Let’s do that in the future. We should establish some rules, I don’t want to step on a mine and you,” he eyes him from head to toe, “you princess, are a walking bomb. Your husband. Tell me more about him. Is he going to be a problem?”
“No?” Shouto hops on the table and swings his legs as he thinks about it. “I don’t think he will. I’m pretty sure he has someone. I’ve seen a woman around. They seem close. He’s Inasa Yoarashi. His father mainly owns the biggest company of-”
“Airplanes. Yeah, he manufactures them. I know. I’m an engineer, or well, one in training. I know who he is… so that’s the heir, huh? Alright. You sure he won’t try to kill me if he ever finds out?”
Shouto huffs. “Yes, I’m pretty sure he won’t mind. He might even try to warn you against me.”
“Yeah, sure. So, why not divorce then? If you say he won’t mind and he has someone else.”
“Our fathers,” Shouto interrupts him. “My father won’t allow it, and his won’t be too pleased either. It’s fine. My father, too, has had many lovers. There was a point where I was tired of seeing them all over the house.”
Katsuki scowls. “Bet your mother was happy.”
Shouto’s shoulders fall. “She wasn’t there to say anything. He locked her up. She’s still in a hospital.”
“So… your father. He’s the problem then.”
He can only nod. How could he define his father? “He’s.” Words elude him. He makes a gesture with his hands trying to convey it, but it’s useless. Sighing, he tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Maybe this is a bad idea. You’ve already saved my life, I shouldn’t ruin yours. You are hot, true. And kind. Gentle… maybe sometimes a little too harsh but-”
Katsuki yanks his head down and hushes him with a kiss. This time, Shouto only needs a second to recover from the shock to kiss him back. Spreading his legs, he pulls Katsuki closer. Then wraps his legs around his waist, locking them impossibly close.
He’s on fire. He has never felt like this before. He’s not sure where up is, where down is, or which is right or left. His lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen, but he doesn’t want to break away. When he senses that Katsuki is trying to, he chases his mouth, panting harshly, but still kissing him, nipping his bottom lip between his teeth.
The blond pushes him away until his back hits the table. Something falls onto the floor and breaks. Neither cares, as Katsuki jumps onto the table with a grunt and gets on his knees, caging him before he keeps devouring him. More stuff falls as Katsuki starts to nip the sensitive skin on the crook of his neck, making him thrash a little around. The table creaks, complaining under their combined weight, shaking slightly.
Moans and pants soon fill the room as well as the wet sound of their open-mouthed kisses. He tangles his hands in Katsuki’s spiky hair and tugs him closer. He wants more. He needs more.
“Let’s move this somewhere else,” Katsuki grunts.
Shouto whines at the lack of kisses but obediently follows him. Seeing the bed makes him realize how real this is. Katsuki turns around, lips swollen, eyes dark, messy hair, and asks him once more if he’s sure.
“There’s no turning back, Shouto. Once we do this, you’ll officially be cheating. You get that, right? Happy marriage or not, it’s a fact. You sure that won’t make you feel guilty or depress you or—”
Seeing Katsuki, who has only known him for a little bit more than a day and a half, so worried about him, when no one else has shown such concern for him, makes him be sure of his decision. Swallowing the knot that has appeared on his throat, he nods with decision.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been surer of something as I am right now.” He starts to pull his shirt up over his head. “What about you? Are you still sure you want to be the other man?”
Katsuki growls and takes him from his waist. “What other man? From what I can see, I’m the only one. You are married only in paper. In the old times, your marriage would have been nulled. If there’s no fucking, there’s nothing, princess.” His teeth drag over his neck. Shouto tilts his head to give him more access.
Well, that settles it then.
