Chapter Text
Part 1
Click, clack. Again, with that noise, just like yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Click, then clack.
He didn't have to look up to know when Mrs. Robinson was walking down the hall. Red bottom heels clicking and clacking on the tiles. 8:00 am on the dot. Everyday.
"Mr. Katsuki," she said, placing a pile of papers on his desk. "I have the materials for you to look over. How would you like to...," She went on. And on. And on. Continuing on a rant that lasted an eternity. He could only note the red smug of lipstick on her teeth and the way her perfume devoured his office as he nodded to words he didn't hear. Words he didn't care for. Just like the day before.
People passed him in a blur. Faces, smells, comments. Work. More fucking work, all at once. Just like the day before, as if the weeks and the month and years had glued themselves into one long film. So bonded he couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. It was all the same.
His eyes never left his work when he heard the door creak open. 3:28pm, it was about time Mrs. Robinson came with his coffee. But she was later than usual, it usually came at 3pm. On the dot. Just like the other days.
Mr. Katsuki didn't spare the figure a look, even as the mug was placed on his desk. He gripped the cup and brought it to his lips as he eyed the paper in his other hand. "Thanks, you can go now, Mrs.-"
Disgusting.
He spat out the hot liquid, the mess splattered on his desk. Bitter, sickeningly Bitter. What the hell? She knew he hated black coffee, despised it. Three cubes of sugar and two spoons of milk. Exactly. Just like the other days, but today was different. Not...like the other days?
"Ah, did I get it wrong?" The voice was softer. Not that endless squawk that Mrs. Robinson had. Nor the scent of that stomach turning perfume. Different. Weird.
He looked up from his desk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes burnt with rage... and then surprise. There was no squawk because it wasn't Mrs. Robinson. It was a man. Midoriya He wasn't very appealing to the eyes, but he wasn't ugly. Average. Green hair and eyes, a neat white button-up with red tie that complemented the olive undertone of his skin. Mr. Katsuki's eyes lingered on the smirk that played on his lips. Infuriating little prick.
"She wasn't really clear on how I should do it," he hurried to grab a hand towel "I just assumed you'd like your coffee black. Y'know, considering you always look so grumpy. Bitter." His eyes lingered on Mr. Katsuki's as he said the last word, his smile spreading ever so slightly as he moved to wipe up the mess.
His brows furrowed at the comment, "What? What's that supposed to m--"
"It means exactly what it sounds like." He stated swiftly. Mr. Katsuki was cut off. Interrupted then blatantly insulted in the same breath. What's worse is that he did it was a sweet smile on his face.
Mr. Katsuki couldn't help but be annoyed at the fast pace of his voice and how he jumped across the office like he'd been there thousands of times. Like it was his. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, he promptly grabbed the man's wrist, stopping him from cleaning the table. "Why are you here? Where's Mrs.--"
"Mrs. Robinson?" his smile widened, "she said she was late for some appointment or something." His gaze wandered about the room as he spoke, mapping every crevice of the office, before he leaned back down to wipe the mess off the table. "I was just in the right place at the right time. She pushed coffee-making duty onto me." Midoriya's eyes flicked back to the desk, smirking at the spilled coffee all over the table and let out a small laugh. "But it seems I'm not cut out for it." He paused for a moment and they're eyes meeting again, "You have a sweet tooth, sir?" He spoke fast, but clearly. It wasn't annoying in a Mrs. Robinson way, but it still got on his nerves. A lot.
Mr. Katsuki's gaze lingered on the hands that swept about the table with barely contained rage. He used a handkerchief to wipe the remaining coffee off his lips. Twice. He was spoken over twice. He disregarded the question. "Don't touch my table. I'll handle it.
For moment his face changed. It was quick, gone as soon as it appeared, and swiftly replaced with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. Midoriya continued wiping the desk clean, ignoring the request.
A muscle ticked in Mr. Katsuki’s jaw. The nerve. He shot up from his seat, the chair nearly falling back because of the force. The distance between them was closed in a moment, but Izuku didn't waver. In fact there was a smile on his face. A small smirk that seemed to hide grand intent. His scowl deepened as he towered over Midoriya. "Look," His voice was low and threatening, a growl that vibrated between them. "I don't know what makes you think you can walk in here and speak to me like I'm your friend. I own this place. I'm your boss so–"
"Has no one ever been friendly to you–"
He took a step forward they're faces were inches apart as fury sullied his features, "Do not cut me off!" He slammed his fist on the desk, the items on top shuddered with the force. Midoriya's eyes widened at the outburst, but his expression quickly shifted to amusement. He was smiling. Why the fuck was he smiling?
"I'm sorry, sir," he took a step back, his eyes filled with mirth, "Maybe I lost myself for a moment. It's just that it's nice to finally see you in person." He stretched his hand out for a handshake. A second time. "How about we start over, hm?"
Mr. Katsuki eyed the hand, the long pale fingers. Musician hands. He scoffed and moved to turn away, raking a hand through his hair. Then, he was hauled back. By his tie. A mixture of disbelief and rage bubbled up in his stomach when he saw those same fingers wrapped around his tie, dragging him down to Midoriya's height.
"You–!"
"Shake my hand."
What? The silence between them was deafening. All Bakugou could do was gape, his eyes blown wide at the sudden change in atmosphere. The shift in Midoriya's expression. No smile, no amused eyes. Nothing. This was it, the fleeting expression that passed by his features when he ignored his question. Something accompanied the rage swarming his mind. Something that tingled, rang alarms all throughout his body.
Mr. Katsuki gripped his wrist, halting for a moment realizing how slender it was, "Let go of me!"
"Bakugou," he purred, his brown eyes fixed on Mr. Katsuki. Katsuki clamped his mouth shut. Why did his name sound so...unfamiliar? And why did he say it like that. Midoriya coiled the tie around his fist and tugged him closer. The warmth of his breath brushed over Bakugou’s lips as their gazes met. "I can tolerate you being a little bitch once, but not twice. I let it slide when you ignored me. Don't test my patience." His hand held firm on the tie and the other came up again, "Shake my hand."
Little... bitch? Bakugou trembled with rage, but also something else. Something else he dared not name.
For a long moment they stood in silence, only the sounds of their heavy breaths echoed through the room. He was suddenly aware of how close they were. Aware of the fact that if he even twitched, their lips would meet. Touch.
"Well?" His grip on the tie tightened as he arched a brow expectantly. Izuku's head tilted ever so slightly and Bakugou went rigid. A groan rumbled in his throat as he furrowed his brows. Reluctantly, Bakugou grabbed Midoriya's hand, giving it a firm shake and tore his eyes away as a pleased smile spread across his face. For a second, only a second, he reconsidered calling .idoriya 'average.'
"Now, was that so bad?" his grip loosened on the tie and Mr. Katsuki quickly straightened himself. Though he was taller, something about that condescending smirk made him feel so... small. But that's not right. He's never felt small, that wasn't him. It wasn't right. He could have him fired with a single word, ruin his future with phone call. Yet he felt inferior to someone whose face looked like he still had breastmilk on his breath. It was wrong.
"You'll burn a hole through my face if you stare like that." his voice broke Backugou out of a trance. Distantly, he watched as Midoriya moved to take up the discarded mug.
"Leave it and get out." His voice was stern as he snatched the cup before Midoriya could. The intensity of his glare was enough to melt metal. "I've had enough of you, Mr. Izuku."
His head tilted up and flicked between the mug and my gaze, "You really are a piece of work, aren't you, Mr. Katsuki?" His touch was gentle as he held Bakugou's wrist, bringing the cup down slowly. "It was my mistake. Let me take care of it. Take care of you"
Something flipped in his chest. How long had it been since someone had, taken care of something for him? Taken care of him? His grip faltered for a moment, then tightened again and he pushed Midoriya away, the man's back hit against the table.
"I said, get out!" his voice echoed through the office. Why wouldn't he just listen like everyone else? Be scared of him, withdraw. Why wasn't he intimidated? Uncertainty ran through him in waves but he schooled his expression into a scowl.
"And I said, let me take care of it." He mumbled as though he was talking through clenched teeth as he slowly advanced on Mr. Katsuki. Bakugou took a step back, despite himself. Then two, then three. "I knew it from the start, I bet you didn't notice it, huh?" He mused.
What the hell is he talking abou–? He tripped. With a grunt he fell backwards, back pressing against the wall as he looked up at Izuku’s amused grin. He gasped as a boot planted in his chest when he moved to get up.
"Why did you feel the need to back up?" He tilted his head, his foot twisted in unison. It wasn't painful, but the pressure in his chest made him feel... strange.
"Get off of me!"
"Shut the fuck up." The retort was instant, chilling. Mr. Katsuki held his ankle with a grunt as his boot pressed harder. "I asked you a question, did I not?" he folded his arms over his chest as he looked down on Bakugou with a gaze that ran down his spine. Why did you back away?" His voice was filled with venom... and then he smiled. "A while ago, you pushed me hard enough for me to land on the desk. Your bigger, broader. Stronger." His boot twisted and Mr. Katsuki let out a groan as he squeezed his eyes shut. "So tell me... why?"
"I don't... I don't know what your talking about." the tremour in his own voice disgusted him.
"Yes, you do, Bakugou." Fuck, why did he have to say his name like that. "When I held you by your tie, you could have pushed me away. Even now..."His gazed flicked to his boot, lodged in Bakugou’s chest, as he slid his foot lower to press against his stomach, "you could tear me away right now. But your sitting there. Obedient."
His breath caught in his throat. Shit.
Bakugou gripped Midoriya's ankle tighter, but he didn't take his foot off. He couldn't. Tremors broke out throughout his body as Midoriya looked down on him with a knowing smirk.
A scoff echoed through the office, "You like this, don't you?"
His gaze shot up, lightning fast, "Are you crazy!? Of course n– a...ah!" He clasped a hand over his mouth. What the fuck what that sound? That... came out of him? He didn't notice when his boot had glided so low. Nor had he noticed when he got...
"So why is this hard?" his voice fell into a whisper, almost soothing. It contradicted the wolfish smile that dominated his features.
His eyes went impossibly wide when he looked down. A tent. In between his legs. He was hard, and Midoriya’s boot pressing against it wasn't making it any better. Bakugou gripped the man's ankle, but didn't pull, or push. Why?
"This...This is...," He trembled with a combination of rage and humiliation... and something else that lingered beyond the surface of comprehension.
"Its what? A boner?"
"NO! F-fuck, get your foot– Mm" his mouth clamped shut when Midoriya twisted his foot subtly,
"If not, then what is it?" He cocked a brow, he didn't smile, but Bakugou could hear the amusement in his tone. "I asked you a question. Do you like this? Being stepped on?" He pressed his foot a bit harder with the last word. It was terrifying. Terrifying that the pain didn't feel like pain... it felt...
His gaze dropped low as he clamped his thighs shut around Midoriya's leg, "I didn't like..."
"Look at me when I'm talking to you." he grinded his foot in a mild rhythm that made Bakugou spiral. Before he registered the command, he was looking up, eyes glazed over as he bit his lip. "Try again."
"I didn't... I swear. I didn't like it,"
Midoriya lifted his foot and Bakugou immediately clamped his legs shut, cupping his tenting crotch as if to shield it. He flinched when the man crouched in front of him, their lips moments from touching. The world stopped when those musician hands gently grasped his knees.
"Show me."
"I cant--"
“Bakugou, show me."
A moment of silence passed, the longest moment of his life. His head sank low as he parted his thighs slightly, a reluctant whimper escaping his lips. Izuku's hand quickly dove into the opening, groping the bulge between Bakugou's thighs. Shit. God, how can his fingers feel like that? Why does it feel so... fuck.
Midoriya's other hand reached up to card his fingers though Mr. Katsuki's hair. It was gentle. Praise. "Tell me what got you so turned on. Was it when I held you by your tie?"
"No...that...that's not tr-" he rolled his hips in the exploring hand, unconsciously seeking more friction. More of him.
"No? then...When I cursed at you? Called you a bitch?" He leaned in, breath ghosting over Bakugou’s ear as his hands worked simultaneously, one massaging his scalp and the other prodding his clothed heat.
"I'm n...not.."
Their lips brushed, it was a second. But they touched. "Ah, it must have been when I said i'd take care of you. You liked that, didn't you?"
Something cracked.
Tears welled in his eyes, then they erupted, "I DON’T KNOW!" Mr. Katsuki’s vision blurred with the volume of his tears. Before he could stop himself he had grasped Midoriya's shoulders and buried his face into the crook of his neck. "I... don't know...," his voice was small and muffled as he spoke against Midoriya's neck, shivers running down his spine as fingers continued to run through his hair.
"Everything...everything you do just... feels good"
"Yeah?"
He nodded weakly as he nuzzled into Izuku's neck, tears falling freely.