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Eijirou Kirishima, Katsuki would never admit, was his best friend.
But by god, Katsuki wanted to strangle him to death.
Katsuki didn’t really remember whose idea it was to throw a party in the dorms the night Aizawa and Present Mic left campus for a date. He’d bet his money that it was Denki who scrounged up the booze, and Sero was definitely the one who’d turned the guest bathroom into a hotbox, but it was fucking Eijirou Kirishima who pushed the couches to the walls and danced with Izuku to the beat of the Billboard Top 100 blaring from Tooru’s speaker.
He watched them from the kitchen counter, scowling over his beer, as Eijirou grabbed Izuku by the hand and gave him a spin. Izuku laughed, twirling with a stupid smile on his face. His cheeks were round and flecked with freckles and that stupid, fat ass wouldn’t stop swaying to the beat.
Eijirou pulled Izuku in and grabbed him by the hips, directing their sway.
Katsuki bit the rim of the cup.
From the couches, Ochako whistled. Then she and the rest of the girls broke out into cheers as Izuku dropped his ass to the ground with Eijirou’s hands keeping him steady.
Fuck them.
Who was Izuku to wave that fucking body in front of him like a forbidden fruit Katsuki couldn’t goddamn take a bite out of? It wasn’t fair—not fair of Izuku, and not fair of Eijirou, who should well know Katsuki’s feelings.
Another spin and Eijirou yanked Izuku back into his chest. Crotch to ass, they swayed. Katsuki could see his crush’s face turning magenta and—you know what? No.
That was it.
Katsuki jumped from his stool. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hanta chatting with Momo at the table. His fingers were in her hair, stroking a long lock of black. There was a blush on both their faces, but that wasn’t really important.
Katsuki stomped over, slammed his hand on the table and leaned into their space. Momo flinched, and Hanta leaned away. “We need to talk.”
Eyes bloodshot from however much weed he wasted away in the bathroom, Hanta crossed his arms and smiled apologetically at the girl. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She blushed, bit her lips and rose from her seat to go join Mina and Kyouka at the snack bar. Katsuki stole her chair, slammed his cup on the table so that stale beer sloshed out onto the hardwood. Hanta sighed. “What do you want? I was busy with my girl.”
“Shitty hair is dancing with Izuku.” His voice came out in a snarl. It’s like the thought of Izuku turned him savage. Then again, what else was new?
Hanta shifted in his seat and nodded at the couple dancing to their left. “So?”
“He’s mine.”
Hanta blinked back at him, eyes widening after a second. A grimace reached his lips, and he leaned forward to clap Katsuki on the shoulder. “Bakubro… he’s not yours.”
Katsuki clenched his teeth. “Not yet.”
“Right, well-” Hanta took a sip from his own cup, “Hate to break it to you, but Izuku’s ass is phat. Not fat, but p h a t with a big ol’ PH. He’s in everyone’s spank bank, so you can’t get pissed at Eiji for taking a shot when all you do is scowl at him from the corner like a pubescent boy at a middle school dance.”
Katsuki kicked his shin. In most cases, that would’ve brought him at least a second of amusement; it would have made him feel better watching Hanta lean down to grab his ankle and hiss.
But he’d never been that pissed.
He twisted in his seat, joints cracking from the swift movement. Who the fuck thought it was a wonderful idea to play Ed Sheeran? First, his music sucked. Second, it was the perfect opportunity for Izuku to wrap his arms around Eiji’s neck and sway to the beat. “Bet he just loves having his limp dick all pressed up against my future husband.”
“Bro, I think you need to take a hit.” Hanta wrapped a clammy hand around Katsuki’s wrist and tugged. “C’mon, I left my bong in the bathroom with Denki and Aoya-”
The distant sound of shattering glass echoed above the music.
Hanta pursed his lips and leaned back into his chair. “All right, nevermind. Last time I leave my shit with a twink… Anyway, go make your mark or get the fuck out. I wanna get back to vibing with Momo.” Hanta shoved him from his seat, sending Katsuki stumbling. “Yo, Momo!”
And like that, he abandoned Katsuki, forcing him to stand at the edge of the party with little idea of where to go from here. Ochako and Tsuyu had gotten up to dance, too. Tenya and Shouto followed behind to sway awkwardly at the side. They all had their hands on Izuku, laughing with him.
Touching him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? Approach him? Make his goals known? No. No, he couldn’t let Izuku see him like a fool. And asking the freckled fuck out? It would make him look like the biggest fool in the whole dorm. In the entire school.
Fuck it, he was leaving.
Katsuki tossed his cup in the trash and swayed towards the stairs, tipsy. Crushes were stupid anyway, but sleep was the wisest thing in his books. One foot on the carpeted stairs, he grabbed the railing, and-
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Katsuki’s stomach lurched. No fucking way. He pivoted, changing his destination from his room to between Izuku and everyone else. He wished his stomps sounded harder on the carpet as he stepped onto the makeshift dance floor, shoved Eijirou away with a firecracker palm. Katsuki turned to Izuku, whose lips were parted and brows drawn like he didn’t have an algorithm to predict this behavior.
Katsuki’s eyes darted over his face in swift fashion, the flecks of skin peeling off his lip—Izuku’d bite it off soon, and the skin would be red and tender—the thin, white scar on his chin from when he face-planted on the park pavement when they were six, and the one freckle directly beneath his eye that was only slightly larger and was fun to poke at when they were four and curled up under Katsuki’s All Might comforter.
No one knew Izuku like he did.
No one else deserved those lips.
Katsuki grabbed Izuku by the collar of his shirt, the fabric smoking in his grip, and jerked him forward. Their lips connected in a fury, teeth clashing. He tasted of orange juice and sake, and his lips were so goddamn tender. He kneaded his mouth against them, slipped his tongue in and slid it against the surface of Izuku’s, savoring the vibration that rung through his body when he moaned.
Katsuki pulled away, red in the face and heart pounding too damn fast. He blinked down at Izuku, who stumbled back into Ochako. Katsuki addressed the class. “LISTEN UP, FUCKERS!” He barked, jabbing a finger at Izuku. “That’s gonna be mine one damn day, so I don’t wanna see you grinding on him, touching him, or fucking flirting! I swear to god, if you do, I’ll see you in Tartarus.”
Silence.
Something loud and tinny blared over the speakers, but it was the only sound in the entire dorm. Its occupants were too busy gaping, ogling Katsuki like he was insane. Denki stumbled out of the bathroom, looked around. “The hell did I miss?”
It was dead quiet. Katsuki glanced back at Izuku, who was trying his damndest to keep a slight smile hidden. It sent a flutter to Katsuki’s heart as Eijirou shouted back, “Denki, you owe me twenty bucks!”
And Katsuki shoved Eijirou for that, sent him running up the stairs and to his room before Katsuki could give him a proper beat-down. But was Katsuki pissed?
Nah, not really.
Because now he staked his claim; Now, everyone said Izuku was with him, even if Katsuki had yet to make it official. Now, when Izuku walked past him in the hall, the nerd couldn’t stop blushing.
Katsuki called it success.