numbertwohero | Prismatica Inbox

[Honestly, that just makes him want to yell more. Shouto probably can't win.]

Don't tell me what to do! I'm cold because it's cold out.

[He takes his shoes off, padding after Shouto unsure of what else to do in the meantime. And then he looks down. Shouto has a nice ass. He'd never paid much attention before and he's not as muscular as some of their upperclassmen but he's lithe and compact and he could probably kill his skull with those glutes and thighs by skill alone and why the hell is he thinking about this now?!?! At least butterfly biology means he's not prone to blushing.]

Stupid tail...

Edited 2020-01-16 03:22 (UTC)

Probably because of Cordis, too. Are the wings new?

[Is there truly ever any winning with Bakugou? It's questionable at best. Doesn't mean he's not going to try, though. He's too stubborn to let anyone push him around, especially Katsuki, and honestly he's pretty sure that Katsuki actually appreciates that. Not that he's gonna say anything of the sort. Just like Katsuki isn't gonna say anything about what he's thinking.]

They do get pretty annoying, right? I have a few pairs of pants with the tail hole if you need to borrow a pair.

[Of course he assumed Katsuki was talking about the fluffy blonde tail he'd caught a glimpse of behind the other boy's legs. Why would he be talking about Shouto's, after all?]

No shit it's Cordis. Yeah...

[He blinks blearily. It is warmer in Shouto's kitchen, which is helpful, even if it takes time for his body to adjust. Come to think of it, Shouto's pretty war--

What the fuck is wrong with him, and why is he hovering behind Shouto, his wings raining their annoying shitty fairyfucking dust??? Katsuki jumps back, snarling. It takes him a moment to realize what he said. That's not what he meant at all, but he'll take it.]

I'm surprised you're prepared.

[He hadn't even really noticed how close Katsuki was standing. During Cordis, he's much more willing to let people into his personal space, overthinking less and really just wanting that casual, affectionate contact. Sure, he'd felt the slight breeze of those wings idly flapping, but it wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, he doesn't notice until Katsuki jumps back, snarling in that way he's slowly starting to learn doesn't mean he's angry, just caught unawares.]

Why's it surprising? I've been getting the ears and tail for the last five months now, it's be prepared or be naked and starving.

[Lifting a hand to scratch at his shoulder, then to rub at his cheek, he accidentally transfers some of the shimmering, orange-pink dust from Katsuki's wings to his face, then looks back over his shoulder at the other boy, unaware.]

Food'll be done in a minute. You want tea or anything? Or another blanket?

What do clothes have to do with starving?

[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?

It's Cordis, I'm always starving during Cordis. And sleepy.

[Ignoring the fact that that's basically his natural state of being...what do you want, he's a growing boy. But yes, a very oblivious one, too. He has no idea why Katsuki's looking at him like that, just like he's got no idea that half the girls in their class moon over him, and maybe some of the guys wouldn't mind either. Physical attractiveness has never been a thing he worried much about. Strength, proficiency, determination, focus. Those are what matter. And they're things Katsuki prioritizes, too. Maybe that's why they're almost getting along now. Maybe that's one reason why he feels...well, comfortable with the other boy. More than he feels with a lot of people.]

Oolong in the fridge, matcha, jasmine, and black in the cabinet. Electric kettle on the counter over there, if you want to take care of it.

[Maybe that's why he's snapping? He needs something to do? It can't be for any other reason, right?]

You're always sleepy! It's a fucking miracle you get anything done. I don't understand how you can nap like that...

[It's true that Katsuki prioritizes qualities like strength and proficiency. Looks only matter when they're for intimidation. But he's aware enough that he looks good. It's not something he constantly thinks about, and in some ways it just gets in the way with shit, but he looks good because of how hard he works. That Shouto would be so dense to not realize he was like a shitty prince among their soy-sauce faced peers...

Whatever. In the past Katsuki would have suspected Shouto was playing dumb, but now he's realizing no, there's nothing fake about it. Shouto really is that dumb. And intelligent. And strong. And infuriating.]

Don't tell me what to do.

[He growls, too sluggish to scream, even if he is flustered.]

You and your fucking tea.

[Well, he isn't going to just sit around and do nothing. He rummages through the cabinets and finds the matcha, then fills the kettle with water and sets the heat.]

I don't sleep well.

[He's not sure why he's saying this to Katsuki of all people. Not like he's going to care, or ask why. He's just gonna make some shitty offhanded comment about it and then let it go. But then, maybe that's why he says it.]

I did say, if you want. What's wrong with tea?

[He's traditional in a lot of ways. And despite the incident when he was younger, he still associates tea with his mother in a positive light. He never blamed her for what happened. And maybe the result of that incident is another reason he's unaware of how his looks affect other people, sometimes. Sure, his body's fine, probably, but most of their classmates are just as fit, and they don't have a huge burn scar on their face. They don't look like his shitty dad. It's whatever.

Finishing up the buns, he puts everything on a large dish and waits for Katsuki to finish, heading into the living room after and taking a seat on the couch, putting the plate on the table and grabbing a bun for himself.]

Stop makin' excuses and sleep harder!

[He scoffs, his face twisting in annoyance. What did Shouto want, for him to tuck him in? He doesn't say it, but he thinks he might have an idea as to why... but he's never been good at sympathy. And irritating as he is, Shouto doesn't strike him as the kind of person who wants it.]

Nothing's wrong with it, you're just fucking predictable.

[Sometimes. It's not bad. Katsuki strictly adheres to going to bed at 8 pm, for crying out loud. It's just another thing about Shouto he can yell about. If Shouto wasn't such an asshole, Katsuki might find the scar cool, even if it means something painful to Shouto. Scars are a sign of survival, as far as he's concerned.

Once he's done, he grabs a tray to bring the tea, pouring Shouto his cup and shoving it at him aggressively once he's sat down.]

DRINK!!!

How am I supposed to sleep harder??

[It's more a rhetorical question, really. Sleep is elusive at best. Insomnia is a bitch, and at night his thoughts are often too loud unless he's worn himself out, and sometimes he'll wake up with nightmares too strung out to sleep again. It's easier to nap during the day, at lunch and between classes, with the comforting hum of his classmates' conversation around him.

Maybe it'd be easier to sleep with someone else. The couple of times he's done that here, it's been really nice. Like that night with Katsuki in Amegahara.]

Liking tea doesn't make me predictable. I just like traditional food and drink, but I'll try new things, too. I've been trying a lot of new things, here.

[At least he's too busy arguing that point to argue with Katsuki over taking the cup, reaching out and fingers brushing the other boy's with a pleasant tingle before taking it in his own, sipping carefully as he swallows the remainder of the bun.]

If you wanted something else, you could have said, anyway.

[Katsuki just scowls in response. It made sense to him. Amegahara had been nice. And then he realized what had happened and they never talked about it again. He blamed this place and its shitty moons. He didn't want to blow them up just because it was fun, but because of that shit.]

What do you want? A pat on the back? I don't give a shit what you eat, Icy Hot.

[That contact shuts him up briefly, his tail swaying lethargically on the couch where he's resting it. The wings are harder to maneuver, made of a strong but stiff material. He's trying to stay off to the side to give Shouto enough room and to not accidentally poke his eye with the edges, but he aggressively swipes a bun, digging his canines in.]

Shut up. I said it was fine!

[It's hard to miss the way Katsuki stops griping when their fingers touch, the way his tail sways and his eyes close. Shouto feels it a little, too; the warmth, the rightness that comes with the tiny trickle of Chroma. Maybe it's not just that he's cold. Maybe he's like Shouto, feeling the drain of Cordis, craving the contact of moonlacing and not knowing how to ask for it. But how to say that without Katsuki flipping again? He's thinking as he devours a second bun, drinking some of his tea in between.]

Fine, it's fine. It's fine, you're fine, besides being freezing.

[What should he say? Should he ask?]

...You can move closer if you want. I'm not contagious.

[...Nailed it??]

Stop repeatin' what I say, you fucking...toothpaste looking bastard.

[Fuck, he really wants to. Even his words don't have their usual threat of exploding the whole block if the wrong thing is said. He wants to be close with someone, but not just some shitty rando he's just met. He wants to be close to someone he trusts. Even if he can't stand him. It's the only way he can relax.

The suggestion cuts through his daze like ice, and he literally snaps up, embarrassed and scowling.]

You're not. I was being a good guest, you should be grateful I took your space in to consideration!!!

Edited 2020-02-05 05:04 (UTC)

Should I argue with you instead?

[His eyes narrow just a little as he looks at Katsuki a little closer. That's not just anger on his face, is it? In fact, he's pretty sure it's not anger at all.

Honestly, it makes him feel better about all of this. At least he's not the only one who doesn't know what the hell he's doing when it comes to this stuff.]

Fine.

[Sitting his tea down on the table, Shouto lifts his left arm and jerks his head towards the other teen.]

I'd like it more if you didn't. Now stop being stubborn and come here.

[Great. Now Shouto's staring at him. It leaves his face flushing and he glares back, red eyes boring into warm aquamarine juxtaposed by glacial silver. But that... That request shuts him up. For about a second.]

Don't tell me what to do!

[He growls his usual retort, yet he relents and turns and scoots closer, and closer, until he can practically feel the warmth from his body. His wings vibrate briefly, turned away from Shouto. He's not about to let Shouto take all the initiative. He can go after what he wants. He doesn't need someone else to ease him into it. He leans all of his body weight against him, ears twitching and picking up multiple sounds. These ears are obnoxiously large, and he's pretty sure he can hear everything from the other teen's breathing to the thrum of his heart. Without really thinking, he's rested his head on Shouto's shoulder, eyes shut as he takes in his scent, sounds, everything. He smells good and holy shit, he's like a fucking furnace. What the fuck.]

Edited 2020-02-05 18:05 (UTC)

[Well, at least that flush confirms it. He's just embarrassed. And despite his words, he's moving closer, all but burrowing into Shouto's side. And weirdly enough? It's comfortable. It shouldn't be, but it is, and Shouto slips his arm around Katsuki's shoulders above those wings, drawing him in closer and breathing in the smell of him, too.

He has to admit a little of it is curiosity. He's heard about his own pheromones during Cordis, the way he smells like burning maple bonfires and roasting marshmallows, the edge of winter ice mingled with sweet smoke. What would Katsuki smell like? Something peppery, maybe. Spicy and smoky. It's as good a chance as any to find out.]

...You really are freezing. I guess butterflies are cold-blooded...

[They're not mammals, after all, even if foxes are. It's still weird to feel the difference. But it's fine, even when he's not using his fire quirk he's warm enough to help.]

[Shouto smells sweet, calm and sleepy, but with just enough of the danger of winter's bite to be exhilarating when provoked. It reminds Katsuki of the aloof snowflake, and as much as he insults him, as much as he gives him a hard time, he couldn't think of anything more fitting. In fact, he just cuddles up to him more, close enough to where Shouto could easily smell the sweet scent of his sweat and shampoo mixed in with the spices he cooks with. He smells like a contradiction, clean but with the added kick of gunpowder and ashes.]

If you're going to complain, don't invite me in the first place.

[He scoffs. And yet he doesn't move. It feels good to just surrender to the warmth. It should be more complicated than this. It goes against everything he's working for, but if it's with someone who sees him as an equal, he can cooperate this once. The arm around him is a comfort he knows he could swat away or even fight if he wanted. He's starting to understand Shouto better, and while he's still an asshole, he's realizing he's just really, fucking dumb in a smart way.

But Katsuki is smarter.]

If you mention this to anyone, I seriously will kill you.

Edited 2020-02-05 22:32 (UTC)

I'm not complaining. Just saying.

[Any other time, maybe it'd come off as argumentative. Even when they'd been helping each other in the past, there had been that back and forth arguing, insults and words about whose fault which thing was. Geistnacht, that holiday party where Katsuki had gotten Shouto's ice power--and yet now, the words are almost absent, possibly comfortable as Shouto all but nuzzles into that spiky mass of hair pressed to the join of his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Katsuki smells like contradiction. Smoke and soap and sweet sharp edges. It seems strange, but right. Fitting. The huff of a laugh is barely a laugh at all, more like a voiced exhalation against Katsuki's temple, but maybe he can feel a little of the smile on Shouto's face.]

Who'd believe me? Really.

Mn. I almost forgot, you probably like being cold. Fuckin' weird.

[He's content to stay there, to leave it at that because he always has to have the last word. But then he hears that and he temporarily forgets how to breathe.

...

Holy fucking shit, did he just get the Ice Prince to laugh? It's a soft smile, a secret shaped in the soft curve of his lips that's his to remember now. His head is spinning with pride and confusion and annoyance. He did that. No one else. It doesn't soften the edges of bitterness of the sports festival, but it's such a contrast that he can't help feel some sort of smug satisfaction, a victory that he did this. He didn't even think Shouto was capable of being all affectionate and crap. He's warm and he smells good and his voice is oddly pleasant to listen to and it shouldn't be, but he craves more, burying his face in the dip of Shouto's neck and inhaling. He's more like a moth to a flame than a butterfly, but he nuzzles in, hands rough and clumsy when he moves to take Shouto's hand. It's not the first time they've held hands, but he's more aware than ever of Shouto's palm in his, blunt nails tracing the lines that scar the surface.

But he has a point. Who would believe him? Even he had trouble believing it. Maybe he just hadn't been willing to see this side of Shouto before. Maybe it was easier to keep him two-dimensional. It's not like Icy Hot Bastard probably didn't do the same with him all this time.]

It ain't about belief. I don't give a shit if they believe you or not. I don't want any extras to have their asses in business that isn't theirs. Don't do it.

[He's warmer, now. But he doesn't want to move.]

Edited 2020-02-11 03:38 (UTC)

[Shouto doesn't seem to notice when Katsuki forgets how to breathe, instead just sleepily murmuring an answer as Katsuki nuzzles further into his neck, shifting slightly to accommodate him better. He should be close.]

Being warm's better. Like this.

[He might be more than a little oblivious, and far too literal, but it's Shouto's turn to hold his breath as Katsuki takes his hand. It's not the first time, sure, but it's the first time he's done it willingly, and it's....weirdly nice. All of this is weirdly nice. He'd think with all the explosions Katsuki's hands would be rough, but they're not. They're surprisingly soft. Soft, and cool to the touch. Maybe it's the glycerin in the nitroglycerin. He's not really thinking hard about that, though. It's really just...this is nice. The feeling of Katsuki's breath against the side of his neck, the feeling of a hand in his as he laces their fingers together, the feeling of another heartbeat close to his. It isn't even just the moonlacing. It's just... it's comfortable. He's comfortable.]

Fine. I won't. As long as we can stay like this a while.

[He doesn't want to move, either.]

No shit...

[He murmurs snarkily, as if he hadn't been the one to bring up the topic in the first place. It doesn't stop him from being a smartass, but some of the edge has been softened by the lazy, pleasant, fuck- safe feeling he's experiencing right now. He feels safe around Shouto. He likes being around him. What the fuck.

His ears perk up briefly, red eyes snapping open, but then they flutter shut again. The smooth pads of his fingers trace Shouto's palm absentmindedly, only half noting the callouses and scars, contrasted by soft skin here and there. Strong. But somehow...not fragile. Vulnerable. Like a fire in a snowstorm, so alive and vibrant and capable of destruction, but one wrong move... It suits him.

Fucking weird.]

Yeah, yeah... Too much work to move now. And don't tell me what to do.

[He adds sleepily as an afterthought. He could probably fall asleep here. And he wouldn't even have the combat exhaustion excuse to fall back on. This place sucks. He doesn't get it at all.]

[Safe. Yeah, safe is the word. Honestly maybe he should feel weirder about it, but it's true. Katsuki is a dangerous person. He's got an incredibly strong quirk, he could do some serious damage without even trying, and yet Shouto is certain that he wouldn't hurt him. It's a strangely exhilarating feeling, and the way that Katsuki is stroking fingertips over his palm is strangely soothing, feeling equally strangely intimate. It's hypnotizing, even. He could easily sleep like this.

In fact, sleep is pretty much inevitable at this point. He's warm, and he's comfortable, and the weight of Katsuki against him is steadying. He doesn't even want to argue, so all he does is make a quiet grumbling noise in his throat, sighing as he pulls Katsuki just a little closer, burying his face in the other boy's neck in turn.]

Mmff. Whatever...

[The word is sleepy, hazy, and his eyes are already closed, lashes brushing against Katsuki's skin as he sighs and relaxes. He's happy to sit there in silence and drift, and after a few moments, if Katsuki is also quiet, he might be able to feel the faint rumbling of a purr coming from Shouto's chest.]

[Katsuki isn't one to go along with things unless he wants to. He doesn't do compromises, and he certainly doesn't waste his or anyone else's time with bullshit. So it vaguely, distantly surprises even himself when he lets Shouto pull him closer. He does it because he wants to. Here, he's suddenly very aware of just how strong Shouto is. Of the mesmerizing rise and fall of his breathing, and every lean muscle in his chest. He's warm. Comfortable. And they could both kill eachother if they felt like it.

He prefers that. And he feels some grudging respect for Shouto's fitness regime. Not that his own is lacking.

Trust is a rare, precious thing he doesn't give out generously, but he trusts Shouto not to use this against him. He trusts him not to pull any shit. As much as he infuriates him, his intentions are surprisingly sincere. Even kind, in a way that confuses the hell out of Katsuki. But he trusts him, and he's about to drift off--

When something familiar but different has his eyes shoot back open. He's glad Shouto's too busy burying his face in his neck now.

Holy shit. He's definitely awake now. Did the Ice Prince...

Did he just fucking purr?

He's silent, if only not to startle him. He has to make sure he isn't hallucinating, but nope. No. He is definitely purring. It's comforting. But it also stirs something feral inside his chest. Once the initial shock wears off, he snuggles up to him stubbornly, inhaling the scent of his soft hair, and scoffs silently allowing the purring to ease him into sleep.]

[Shouto doesn't remember falling asleep. He remembers sitting down with Katsuki, remembers eating, remembers...

Remembers Katsuki cuddling close. Remembers Katsuki holding his hand, fingers stroking his palm in a way that was astonishingly gentle and not at all what he expected. Remembers liking it, more than a little.

The thoughts aren't as shocking as they might be, if he weren't still so comfortable and warm, his mind hazy and lazy as he drifts. He's on the couch, he knows; somewhere in the course of napping he's gone from sitting up to stretched out full length, his entire body feeling heavy.

Of course, maybe it's not just his body. There's a weight on his chest and hips, pressing him into the soft cushions, a weight that seems to move slightly as he does, breathing with him. And then there's the feeling of something soft and spiky tickling his cheek, and something else warm and soft and strangely firm under his hand. Skin, he thinks. Skin, and not his.

It's curiousity that finally gets him to crack an eye, glancing down to see a familiar blond head aggressively burrowed into his shoulder, and down a little more to see his hand flat against the small of Katsuki's back.

Huh.

Maybe he should move. Katsuki's bound to freak out about this when he wakes up. But he's so comfortable...maybe if he just leaves his eyes closed, it'll be fine?? It'll be fine. Probably.

He still doesn't move his hand.]

[At some point Katsuki shifted. He's curled up, his knees toward the back of the couch, and has possessively clung onto the arm that isn't over his back as if daring him to move a muscle. It's been a while since he got this close to anyone. He doesn't actually think he's ever let himself get this close to anyone. Maybe subconsciously, he picks up in the subtle change of the predictable rise and fall of Shouto's breathing while asleep to wakefulness. Maybe he just sucks at napping. Either way, he finds himself waking soon after his classmate.

He keeps his eyes shut. He might be slow to wake up and groggy, but he remembers everything that happened. He half expected Shouto to move by now, and discovering that he hasn't--and there's something weighing down on his back, but it isn't trapping him or fighting him, but it's almost supporting him--it sets something off, something that's warm and comforting but also painful in his chest. Why? Why is Shouto this way? He's accepted that this isn't some fucked up way for Shouto to feel superior to him, he's too fucking simple for that, so why is he still here?

Before he can stop himself, he finds himself scoffing softly, only to yawn at a much louder volume. He still hasn't moved, he wants to stay where it's warm. And for some fucking esoteric reason, so does Icy Hot. His voice growls, thick with sleep when he speaks up.]

Don't you fucking move.

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