[Of course Shouto doesn't think it's weird that Katsuki would be hovering only inches away from him like it's no big deal. Fuck, how does he manage to be so oblivious yet still such formidable competition? It pisses him off. Not because he's concerned or anything.
There aren't words for the surge in his chest when he sees his dust on Shouto's face. The warmth goes well on his fair complexion, almost like he's blushing. But Katsuki doesn't give a shit about that. He can't quite articulate what it is he feels, but it certainly takes care of his stupor. He should say something. But he doesn't want to.]
I'm fine. I'm not fucking sick. [He doesn't want a blanket. He wants the warmth of another person, but only one he trusts.] What kinda tea you got?
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[Of course Shouto doesn't think it's weird that Katsuki would be hovering only inches away from him like it's no big deal. Fuck, how does he manage to be so oblivious yet still such formidable competition? It pisses him off. Not because he's concerned or anything.
There aren't words for the surge in his chest when he sees his dust on Shouto's face. The warmth goes well on his fair complexion, almost like he's blushing. But Katsuki doesn't give a shit about that. He can't quite articulate what it is he feels, but it certainly takes care of his stupor. He should say something. But he doesn't want to.]
I'm fine. I'm not fucking sick. [He doesn't want a blanket. He wants the warmth of another person, but only one he trusts.] What kinda tea you got?