Chapter Text

The Coffee Man

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:1886:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Total Power Exchange (TPE)

The act giving over of total control to another person in a given or agreed situation.

“And if you want these kind of dreams….. It's Cali…fornication” Slightly off key the spiky blonde hair man in his early twenties was singing along to some random piece blasting in a single earbud.

Vivid crimson eyes danced over the shiny white topping that was being placed into a rather large piping bag with a star tip. Cute fluffy dollops created a visually appealing delicate flower around the edges of a tangy lemon tart. 

Of his two jobs, this is the one he actually almost enjoyed. If the pay wasn’t shit he would quit the coffee shop by the university. He needed both jobs however. Especially if he planned to do normal things…like eat. 

Sugar & Spice Bakery had been around for decades located on the other side of the bougie area of town. Not too far from bars and some random clubs. It wasn’t exactly the safest area, then again neither was his shit hole of an apartment 2 miles south. They had a decent morning clientele who would come in around six for their coffee and danishes. Something he would prep and have ready for the owner when the old man took over for him so he could get to school. 

Today was no different than any other morning, except for the fact he was staying later than usual. Usually he was out the door by quarter til five to make his seven am class. Today's lecture was canceled so he was able to stay longer. 

Delicately he was creating a masterpiece on every single tart so each one was identical to the next. It had to be perfect…no other option was available or valid. He would rather throw a full fruit tart out of the window than serve something half-assed.

He was on to the last one when someone walked in triggering the bell over the door. He didn’t need to look up to know someone was approaching the counter…the clicking of dress shoes on the tile told him everything he needed to know. Focus still on the task at hand he called over his shoulder.  “Yeah yeah  welcome to Sugar & Spice and all that, be right with you.” 

A long day turned into a long night for the insomniac. All he wanted was some peace and quiet and a strong cup of coffee. 

The sound of someone singing, badly at that, caught his attention as the man entered the bakery he has visited so often. The owner, Ichiro, was a kind old man that he has known for quite some time. 

Half bent over the counter was an angel with platinum blonde hair sticking up in every direction. The side profile gave one of immense symmetry and pure porcelain skin. Dark sapphire eyes trailed over the poorly clothed beauty doing some sort of decorations with extreme focus. So much so that he got a glimpse of just the tip of a pink tongue sneaking its way out to aid the user in total concentration. 

Clasping his hands at the small of his back he waited just staring at the boy who truly looked like a fallen angel….oh the sinful things he would do with that tiny bit of….shaking his head he came to two conclusions. One: He needed coffee and a nap. Two: The blonde looked like a tasty bit of sin and he was hungry. 

“Ok, sorry about that, what can I get for you?” Wiping his hands on the towel at his waist the blonde boy turned to the patron and suddenly his mouth went dry. Vivid rubies took inventory of the patron that interrupted his morning in a slow sweeping manner. Easily close to a foot on him in height decked out in expensive looking black slacks with matching ebony button down. Shifting his gave to the smirk on the man’s ruggedly handsome face tried to ignore the fact that several buttons were undone revealing sun-kissed skin and strong collar bones.

The man had the image of a giant glass of water and Katsuki was suddenly very thirsty. 

“Coffee, black, biggest size you have and I'll take whatever it was you were so intently focused on.” The amusement in those dark eyes followed by a rich deep purr had him force a swallow with a nod of his head. 

“Sure. That will be $7.50. Take a seat, I'll bring it over.” Punching some buttons into the digital register he spun the tablet around admiring the way the consumer pulled out his wallet and tapped his card, never breaking eye contact with him. 

Fuck, he could get lost in those deep dark almond shaped eyes. Always a sucker for a good looking older man, and he was drawn to power and danger like a moth to a flame. This man oozed power and confidence, both of which intrigued the blonde dressed in baggy jeans and a long sleeve ribbed shirt. 

Two different worlds colliding by chance. 

Picking up the plate and coffee up he stepped out behind the counter to an intense gaze watching his every movement. Setting his shoulder he strolled over with a gusto he didn’t feel. 

“So what’s with all the black? Did someone like fucking die or something?” Katsuki’s mouth was known to get in trouble on a good day, into multiple fights on a bad. Yet the man just placed his elbows on the table leaning in to support his chin in his hands. An amused grin lighting up his eyes. 

“What if I just like the color black?” The man took a long drink of the hot liquid and Katsuki could not help thinking the way he swallowed was sexy as hell.  

“And what if the moon fell…what’s your point?” 

Raising an eyebrow, Shouta smirked at the fidgety little thing. Now that he was able to get a better look he was even more convinced of his initial findings. Small but not unlike others he supposed. The blonde couldn’t have been more than five-six, but the way he moved like a predator in water and how the fabric of his shirt clung to his slender frame teased at well defined lean muscle tissue. 

Combine that with his cheeky retort and it was a delightful little morsel. 

“Did you make these?” Shifting the conversation away from his thoughts he lifted the fork with a single bite of lemon curd tartlet.  

“Yup. If you need anything else I’ll be at the counter” Katsuki had to walk away. If he didn’t he would be lost to the gravitational pull of those dark mysterious eyes and deep timbre that caused his stomach to twist and his heart to speed up. 

Chuckling the dark-haired man took another bite grinning the whole time. They say a person's nature is best seen through their creations. Well this seemed quite accurate with the sour tangy curd and hints of sweet strawberries topped off with a full body fluffy cloud. 

“Hey, kid” Shouta called to the boy at the counter who was busy beating what looked like butter into a flat sheet. The movement was far too aggressive with the way he swung the long wooden rolling pin down. Just like a frustrated brat. 

Oh he hoped he was the cause of such a temperament. 

“Not a kid old man” Katsuki didn't even look up. If he did the man would see the current turmoil and blush of thoughts he normally didn’t have bloom across his cheeks and ears. Just flatten the butter…flatten the butter…don’t look up, don’t make eye contact…make the damn croissants. With a will made of iron he kept talking to himself inside his head to calm his horny little ass down. 

He didn’t have time for this shit, not with his current schedule.  

“That is yet to be determined. What was in that cream?” Curiously he wanted to know more about the blonde and as he observed him making the tarts he figured it would be a safe conversation starter. 

“Cream cheese, whip it until there is plenty of air in it and fold in chantilly cream. It balances out the tartness of the fresh lemon curd and the sweetness of the glazed strawberries. Why got a complaint?” Wrapping the dough in plastic he chucked it into the fridge to turn around where explosive rubies met the cold calm deep sapphire.

Chuckling he placed the empty plate on the counter, hanging onto the travel cup of coffee. "I do not believe that is what I said now is it boy?” Oh, the amusement dancing through Shouta’s mind at the narrowed red eyes and slight intake of breath between perfectly parted lips.  “How often do you work here?” 

“Normally only on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturday's mornings. Unless my classes cancel, I stay until around 4:45 or 5. Monday, Wednesday, Friday I work at the coffee shop near the University.” Holy shit why the hell did he just spill all that information to some hot Armani wearing dude. 

“Ok then. Thanks. See you around kid.” 

“Not a kid!” He tsked out into the open air. The man left just as quickly as he had arrived. Part of him was glad, he didn’t have time to be daydreaming about tall dark and delicious. He had work to do and a schedule to keep. Distractions and deviations from his perfectly organized plan were not allowed. 

“Kacchan, you are zoning out again” Izuku chastised his friend who was supposed to be making a chai frappe which now was over blended. The last two days he had noticed the random moments where his friend would just zone out for no reason. 

He prayed he wasn’t getting sick again. 

“I’m fine Deku, stop fucking looking at me like that.” Grumbling, he threw the blender in the sink to start the drink again. Yes he was distracted, between finals coming up, the need to make more money for books and bills, combined with the ghost of his encounter a few mornings ago…he was slightly off his game. 

He couldn’t afford to keep fucking up here, the tips he earned are what kept him fed and lately he had been skipping meals to make what he has last. One day he would no longer have to worry about this shit. 

“Order #412 at the counter” He slid the frozen drink to the pick up counter before turning to take the next order. Sandalwood and cinnamon hit his nose and short-circuited his brain. Red eyes traced the source to find an amused smirk of tall, dark, and delicious. 

“Coffee, black, largest…” Shouta was cut off by a rare smile on the pretty little face as he finished his order for him. “Size we have…yeah I got you” Filling up the 24 ounce cup he handed it to mister sex on legs trying not to let his nerves show through. “On the house coffee man” 

Part of the blonde was screaming with excitement that he got to see him again. It was probably just chance, but on some level he kind of hopped the man came looking for him. This is the type of shit that only happened in the novels and manga he favored.

Another secret he would take to the grave. 

“Thank you boy” There it was again, that rolling timbre that had Katsuki’s toes curling in his second hand sneakers. Red eyes followed the man who placed several bills into the tip jar before casually leaving and Katsuki watched that fine ass walk out the door. 

Maybe he should have said something, gotten his name, or number.

Maybe he was just delusional. 

Three days later he laid wide awake with his textbooks open staring into a blank void of calculations and theories. He only saw him twice but he couldn’t get that musky scent or seductive voice out of his brain. 

Hell, he even masturbated thinking of the man in hopes that he was just worked up and needed a release. It only helped for a little bit. He was 22 and practically a virgin. Groaning, he flopped back onto his pillows checking the clock.

It was already 3 A.M. 

Who the hell needs sleep. He had class at 7 anyways so if he headed out now he could get a decent run in and maybe, just maybe the extra workout would calm his mind.

Stripping out of his favorite sleep pants he folded them meticulously donning some basic black joggers, tank and his bright ass orange hoodie. If nothing else, it was garish enough to prevent cars from hitting him on accident. 

Earbuds in place, phone in his pocket and key around his neck. He left his shitty studio apartment that he called home. 

Music blasting he took to the pavement to let his feet carry him and the cadence set the pace. He didn’t care where he was going. He just needed to feel the rhythmic pounding of his feet on asphalt, let the burn of his lungs and aches in his muscles wash away the anxiety crawling over his skin and the worries suffocating him.

He stopped at a crosswalk using the few minutes it took for the light to change to stretch his legs and arms. This area of town wasn’t exactly known for his upper crust elite. No, this area was known for its local thugs and bullies who spent their time trying to rob innocent fuckers minding their own damn business.

He wasn’t in the mood to play with others when out of the corner of his eye he caught the approaching shadows slithering across the ground towards him. He didn’t even get a chance to cross the street before the pack of vultures had surrounded him. 

Why the hell couldn’t a man just go for a run in peace? 

“Hey there pretty boy…got something for us?” The ring leader with his matted brown hair cat called towards him. 

“Just an ass-whooping if you don’t back the fuck off” Rolling his shoulders he bounced on his toes in an effort to scare the thugs away. He had been in enough street fights to know that he was screwed if they pushed. He didn’t have anything of value to give them, and if he did - he wouldn’t give it over so easily. 

He had worked too fucking hard, sacrificed too fucking much to just roll over and show his belly. 

He would bow to no one. 

He was Katsuki fucking Bakugo and he was raised in the pits of hell and climbed his way through the filth and grime of the gutter. These fuckers could suck his cock if they thought for instant he was some meek damsel in distress. 

“Oh no bitch…Imma thinking the only one getting their ass handed to them is you” Matted hair dude pointed a dirty finger in his direction when the group formed a loose circle around him. 

“Tch… Six of you versus one of me. Sure you don't need to call for backup princess?” Katsuki’s arrogance and attitude was going to get him killed. Yet he couldn't stop the snarky wide grin showing his sharp canines. 

“Hand over all your money pretty boy” 

“Fuck…Off” He rolled his shoulders inward flexing his fingers. 

The first strike hit him from the side. His head snapped sharply making him dizzy. He would take one of these fuckers down with him if nothing else. 

He landed a right hook to one of them and a solid kick to the groin on another. 

The gang ascended on him like a pack of vultures. 

Pain he knew. 

Pain was a familiar friend.

He vaguely recalls the sound of a gunshot and the assholes taking off running. Someone was running to him. He couldn’t really see behind his beaten and swollen face. 

He couldn’t even tell you what was going on, just that everything hurt. 

A bloodied hand reached up to the face of the angel. His voice was raw and broken. “fuck…me”

Blackness overtook him. 

Shouta was leaning against the side of the building he owned smoking a cigarette when he noticed a group of thugs across the street surrounding some poor victim.

He refused to allow such violence this close to his temple.  He yelled out towards the group who were ignoring him in favor of a small figure curled into a ball on the cold ground. What really caught his attention was the tufts of platinum blonde and a cheeky voice calling out ‘that all you got assholes’ while getting kicked and beaten. 

It couldn’t be. 

He was sure it was. 

Pulling the gun he always kept at the small of his back whenever he was outside he released the safety and pulled the trigger.

The idiots took off running leaving the beaten boy on the ground groaning. Shouta ran over to see the damage, the first thing he noticed was the swelling and bruising on the right hand side of the boy's face. He was sure the kids ribs were probably bruised to hell and back if not broken. 

He couldn’t leave the boy here and part of him had a hunch that if he called for an ambulance like a sane person he would never see the boy again.  

He bent down to pick up the boy when a hand lifted to touch his face. That moment of vulnerability called to him like a siren's song. He actually debated tracking the punks down and teaching them a real lesson. Hizashi would bail his ass out of jail if it came to that.

Cupping the bloody hand in his, he shook his head with a sigh. “What am I going to do with you boy?” He manipulated the unconscious blonde into his arms to take him back to his castle.

To 1886

Katuski came awake to the scent of tobacco and sandalwood. He was laying on a plush bed that he instantly knew wasn’t his own and the disorienting thoughts sent panic through his veins. Groaning, he tried to force himself to sit up only to find his head swimming with pain and dizziness.

“Hey kid.” 

He knew that bored tone. He just couldn’t place it at the moment, not with the vice grip his skull was in accompanied by every nerve cell misfiring to remind him that his whole body was nothing more than pain receptors on overtime.

“Wh-Where the fuck am I?” His voice cracked under his swollen jaw. Yeah that was going to leave a mark. His tongue felt wrong, sticky and tacky in the desert filled cavern of his mouth. 

Mentally he completed a quick check list of his injuries that he could feel: Head, face, fuck ribs for sure…back of thigh. Yup he got his ass whooped. Hopefully he took at least one of the little shits down before they swarmed him.

“1886. You got the shit beat out of you” 

1886? Some sort of code? A name? GPS points? Thanks a lot mister shadow man, we the poor morons of the universe appreciate your total lack of information. Katsuki’s inner bitching was matched by the wince in his movements and whine in his voice. “Thanks Captain Obvious. I never would have figured that out on my own.” 

Smirking, Shouta squashed the remains of his smoke. Feisty little shit. He should have guessed the boy would sass him as soon as he found consciousness.

“How the hell did I get here?” More to himself than anything Katsuki was mulling over the events. He finally put some pieces together that the man in the room with him was the mystery man who he hasn’t been able to vanquish from his thoughts. 

Perhaps it wasn’t chance after all…but some cruel twist of fate. 

“Keigo, yeah the kid’s awake….use the back door….my usual…” 

Pulled from his thoughts by the clicking and thinking of expensive shoes on a hardwood surface he let his head loll to the side using his one good eye to take in the beauty of the creature getting closer to him. “Do you only own one outfit?” Well shit he didn’t mean to say that outloud, but he was curious. He had seen the man on three occasions and all three times were dark slacks with a dark button down, and thin black dress belt.

Snorting long cold fingers reached under the blonde’s head to the back of his neck guiding him into a sitting position. “Drink. My medic will be here in a few.” Shouta cracked open a bottle of water holding it out for him.

What in the hell just happened? Did he really let this stranger just touch him and move him around some child…like some ragdoll. What was even more confusing was that he actually might have liked it. Grasping the water his hands were trembling. It was the first sign that something wasn’t right and he just prayed he could hold out until he was allowed to leave. The first rush of the ice cold liquid felt so damn good, coating his dry scratchy throat in instant relief. 

He had the bottle half drained when it was pulled away from him. Red eyes narrowed to the man in accusation and confusion.

“That's a bad idea kid.” 

“I don’t even know your name and for fucks sake I’m not a kid” Reaching for the bottle that was just out of reach a gentle palm steadied him from falling off the bed. Vision swimming Katsuki estimated between the shaking and the fact he was having to blink more than normal to keep his good eye focused, that he was about an hour tops before he would be in serious trouble.

“Shouta Aizawa.” He studied the blonde like he would one of his possessions, carefully, critically. A million and four questions gallivanted around inside his mind when he heard the singular knock at the door.  “Enter” He kept his tone flat and monotone, eyes never leaving the boy on his bed.

“Sir.” A smaller man entered the room almost nervously...like he was in some sacred shrine or something. About the same height as him, Katsuki glanced at the sandy blonde with a big red medic's bag. 

A flick of his wrist and the raven-haired man returned to the desk where he lit up another cigarette. The very way he held it between his lips and let the smoke roll out of his mouth was pure seduction. 

Katsuki was captivated by the man who called himself Shouta. Even through his bleary vision the man held his attention and it annoyed him. Thoughts disrupted when the sandy-blonde dropped a rather large duffle bag on the bed. Opening it he grabbed a penlight and some gloves slipping them on his hands with a quick snap. 

Katuski flinched.

“Hey ,I'm Keigo, your friendly neighborhood specialist. Can you look at my finger for me?” He held his index finger to the center of his face with a warm smile. Katsuki wanted to snap at him, to tell him to go fuck off, but the innocence in those golden orbs had him biting his tongue. 

Keigo flashed the penlight in and out of both eyes rather quickly. The light was painfully bright, reminding Katsuki that his head still felt like it was being split in half. 

Returning the light to the bag he pulled out some more items. Gauze, disinfectant, butterfly bandages, instant ice packs, and a few more items. Keigo was meticulous in cleaning up the bruised and battered skin. Katsuki was not the best patient. He didn’t like to be touched, or manhandled, and he sure as hell didn't enjoy the burn from the disinfectant. 

“That fucking stings dumbass” His patience was over. He played a good little statue for long enough and he was starting to really feel sick. He needed to get out of here. Frustrated and angry he jerked his head to the side balling up his fists.

Keigo nervously looked to the Master of the house pleading with him for direction or guidance. He really did not want to get hit for trying to help. Thankfully the dark master understood his silent plea smashing the remains of his smoke.

Shouta made quick work of standing in front of the boy. He grabbed the gauze soaked with disinfectant with his right hand and the boy’s jaw with his left. There was a challenge in those deep sapphire pools, a battle of wills right here and now. One Shouta knew he had the power to win.

Katsuki didn’t so much as twitch. 

He couldn’t explain but the way the man literally manhandled him like one would a child took all the fight out of him. Where his mouth and body refused to challenge the man known as Shouta Aizawa, his eyes were blazing with a volcanic fury. He would fight him the only way he currently could…by staring him down. 

Keigo kept handing over supplies, small butterfly bandages placed over the gnarly split in his right eyebrow. Gingerly he let the pad of his thumb trace the deep bruises on his cheekbone. Fury coiled in his belly, nothing so beautiful should spout marks so brutally placed. “How's your head boy?”

Licking his lips he found the energy to finally respond. For someone so afraid of being touched all he wanted to do was lean into the stronger figure who smelled so damn good. “Fucking hurts” 

Keigo hummed watching the interaction between the two with keen interest. He had known the Master for several years and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t tickled to see the man act so out of character and tender. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a few items from the bag. One was a small glass bottle; the other was a small hypodermic needle. Tramadol was the paramedics choice. “I am not surprised, you do seem to have a mild concussion. I can give you something for the pain.” 

“Go fuck yourself shit for brains. I would rather suffer than allow you to put god knows what in my body” He couldn’t recall what the guy said his name was, so instead he went with a classic, rather immature insult. 

Clicking his tongue Shouta redirected those red eyes back to his. There was no reason to suffer because of stubbornness. He saw the way those red eyes reacted to him, the way his breath caught every time he put him under thumb and denied his sassy outburst. “Roll up your sleeve”. 

“Tch” Why the hell was he even listening to this guy. What sort of black magic did he have over him that made him want to do what he commanded in that rich toe-curling tone. His orange hoodie was gross anyways, he attempted to pull his arm through the fabric when white hot pain stole the air from his lungs causing black dots to flash in front of his eyes.

Shouta took that as an understanding and assisted in removing the clothing. Brushing his thumb along the perfect cheekbone he swept the tear away. Getting the first real glimpse of the angel’s true beauty. 

The boy was beautiful, and just as he suspected his shoulders and arms were chiseled beauty of lean lithe muscle. The way his tank top clung to his torso and chest gave him away just how small his waist was and how defined he kept his torso and chest. The boy really was a fallen angel and he wanted to own the fractured brat.

“I can tell you are uncomfortable. Keigo is a paramedic. I promise you, he is only here to help. It's your choice. Massive headache, or limited headache. Also you need to let Keigo look at your ribs.” His tone was dark velvet. Katsuki’s mind was trying to figure out too many things at once, which made his head hurt more. He wanted to fight, he wanted to obey, mostly he just wanted to understand what was happening.

Shouta cracked an ice pack, shaking it. “Hold this to your cheek and eye, what is your answer boy” Trembling hands took hold of the cold disposable cold pack trying to hide the wince as he pressed it to his aching cheek. The room was spinning again and he had a feeling he was out of time.

“Hey kiddo, you’re looking kinda flushed. Mind if I take your vitals and blood sugars?” Keigo didn’t even give the blonde a chance to answer before he started taking his blood pressure and heart rate. Something was definitely wrong…following his gut he pulled out a blood sugar testing device. Frowning, he did not like the look of the numbers. “Hey um kiddo… your heart rate is kind of high and your blood sugars are pretty low. How are you feeling” 

“Like I'm going to pass out.” The words felt heavy on his tongue. If he left now he could…fuck who was he kidding. He waited too long and now it was a matter of time before the world turned black and he went limp. 

“What aren’t you telling us boy?” Narrowing his eyes he studied how the blonde wipe his palms on his pants and was attempting to hide the fact that his whole body was trembling.

“I’m …uh…hypo-hypoglycemic…”

“When did you eat last” Keigo was digging in the bag looking for something desperately. He should have some glycemic bars in here somewhere. His personal bag had everything he would need including a glucagon kit. This would be his last resort. 

“I don’t know…maybe yesterday” 

The sandy blonde looked at him dumbfounded. He was still searching his bag when he finally gave up raising his golden eyes to the raven-haired master. “Sir?” Keigo nervously called to him. 

“What Keigo?” 

“Where do you keep your snack selection?.” Katsuki couldn’t figure out why the medic was suddenly so antsy, its not like he had passed out yet.

“I-I’m fine” There was no fire to his tone and the bed was feeling so comfy, maybe he could just lie down and take a nap.

Shouta pointed to the back corner where a medium size fridge sat with a cabinet next to it never taking his eyes, or a single hand away from the boy who clearly needed help but also seemed delusional to believe he was ok. “I’ll be the judge of that” 

Keigo scurried over there grabbing a few items before returning to the shaking blonde on the bed. He handed him an orange along with a string cheese and an electrolyte drink. 

“Kiddo you need to eat every few hours.” Keigo made quick work of peeling the orange, handing it over.

“I’m not stupid, nerd…just broke” Katsuki took the orange, one hand was still holding the ice pack, the other was shaking so bad he was having trouble pulling a segment apart. 

Shouta took the fruit, pulling the orange wedges free. 

“Open” he commanded. 

Katsuki had no idea why he kept doing what this asshole said. He felt like he was unable to fight him. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth. 

“Good boy” Katsuki melted at the words…a part of his brain just turned off, pleased at the electrical spark that zipped through his veins, coating his brain in pure dopamine. For a moment he even forgot how dizzy and lightheaded he felt.

“Once he eats and drinks everything, he should be good Sir. He does have a concussion and his ribs appear to be bruised. Without an x-ray I can’t tell you if anything is cracked. I’d keep him awake for a while and he needs to eat a proper meal and drink plenty of fluids. Rotate ibuprofen and acetaminophen every couple hours for pain.”

Shouta nodded while continuously feeding the blonde orange wedges.

“Sir?” Keigo had finished packing up the duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You may go Keigo” Shouta’s eyes were fixed only on the way the feisty blonde was chewing in a very luscious way. 

“Yes Sir, Thank you Sir” Keigo gave a slight bow and left the two alone. 

“So uh, why was that guy being all ‘sir yes sir’ with you?” Taking the offered sport drink in between bites of orange and cheese he had to find something to fill the silence. Might as well start with the weirdest shit. 

“Because I am the Master here.” The answer was simple enough yet it meant nothing to the blonde. 

“Yeah that means shit. So…uh…thanks but I should be going. I already missed one class so I should be able to make my next if I hurry.” He was starting to feel better, he could swing by S&S and talk Ichiro into giving him a sandwich. The old man never had a problem giving him something to eat whenever he asked. 

“I think not boy. I will however take you home with a single condition.”

“Ok old man, stop calling me boy. My name is Katsuki. Second…why the hell would I listen to ‘your conditions’ ?” Yeah he was feeling better. Agitation pricked at the back of his neck, he was over this already. He really needed to go. He couldn’t miss class, he couldn’t allow his grades to drop, he needed to stay in control. 

Shouta laughed darkly. The sound was deep, rumbling from his chest and it made the blonde's mouth dry all over again. “Because you want to. And I will call you whatever pleases me. Ka-tsu-ki” 

This time Katsuki did shiver under his heated gaze. 

He tried to roll his eyes only to wince at the obvious discomfort.

“What's your condition?”