[Katsuki's fucked up. He's run too many times but now, now that he knows how good this feels, now that he knows the pang in his chest he gets whenever he looks or thinks of Shouto- he can't run again. He can't make excuses or pretend anymore. The only thing he's running to is wherever this ends up.
Katsuki smiles against Shouto's skin, hissing at the pain but enjoying it at the same time. Hell, he'd probably enjoy it if Shouto punched him during training. No, he wasn't that far gone. Was he?
It doesn't matter. He wants more. Greedily, his hands untangle from Shouto's hair and slide down his back, scaping up his shirt to feel the strong back muscles he knows he worked hard for, his chest practically glued to him.]
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Katsuki smiles against Shouto's skin, hissing at the pain but enjoying it at the same time. Hell, he'd probably enjoy it if Shouto punched him during training. No, he wasn't that far gone. Was he?
It doesn't matter. He wants more. Greedily, his hands untangle from Shouto's hair and slide down his back, scaping up his shirt to feel the strong back muscles he knows he worked hard for, his chest practically glued to him.]