Work Text:
Dear Shouto,
No. Delete.
Idiot,
Better.
Idiot,
It’s Katsuki.
Fuck. This is stupid.
Delete.
Idiot,
Bet you didn’t expect to hear from me. Don’t blame ‘ya.
A few seconds to think it over... Delete.
“Shit.” Katsuki curses out loud and slams the lid of his laptop shut. They’ve been stuck on the tarmac for almost forty-five minutes. It’s cramped. It’s hot. The little AC nozzle directed at his seat is fucking broken because of course it’s broken. Next to him he can feel Mina sizing him up. “Shut up.”
“What?” She draws out all too innocently. “I haven’t even said anything.”
“Yeah, well. Doesn’t take a genius to know you’re two seconds away from not minding your own goddamn business.”
“Actually, zero seconds.” A sharp grin pulls over her face. “Didn’t see much of you at the conference after party yesterday.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Have anything to do with that Shouto guy?”
“ Goddammit.” He mumbles to himself. “How the hell did you find time to track my every move between sucking face with that carpet vendor and taking shots?”
“Oh Katsuki, my sweet angel, as your longtime best friend-”
“Hardly.”
“And business partner -”
“Lord knows why.”
“It is my business to make sure you are getting laid on the regular. Otherwise our business suffers.”
God, he wishes he was hungover enough to be passed out right now and not having this conversation.
Mina shifts in her seat to face him better. “It’s him, huh. That guy you had a relationship with in college.”
“Drop it.”
“The one you still talk about when you’re drunk enough.”
“I said drop it!” He raises his voice and a few of the other plane passengers glance their way. He lowers his volume, though the intensity of his tone remains high. “It wasn’t a relationship . We fucked a few times. It was just a - a thing .”
Mina levels him with a don’t lie to me expression. Which pisses him off because she’s right. It is a fucking lie. His relationship with Shouto in college was anything but a thing . Things don’t leave a person heartbroken their senior year of college right before finals and follow you for far too long afterwards. Nah. That’s relationship shit. That’s love shit. And FUCK - did he love Shouto.
Loved him so much he was ready to come out - and well...sometimes shit doesn’t work out. Nah. Sometimes shit blows up in your face in the form of: I’m not ready.
His eyes don’t stray from Mina’s, a whole decade of unspoken communication.
Tell me.
No.
TELL ME.
FINE!
With a sigh, Katsuki relents. “We fucked. Okay? Are you happy now you fucking gossip?”
Mina looks positively thrilled . “How was it?” She squeals .
Katsuki weighs his options, tell her now or be slowly whittled down until he tells her later. “As good as I remembered. That’s all I’m saying.”
“ Fine .” She grumbles. “At least tell me you got his number.”
Katsuki’s face twists.
“ Katsuki- ” she hisses. “You did not let him walk away without his contact information!”
“No!” He says defensively, despite having no reason to be defensive. “He gave me his business card.”
She fans her fingers under her chin with glee. “Please tell me you texted him!”
“I haven’t”
“Why not!”
Katsuki throws his hands lazily and collapses into the back of his minimally padded airplane seat. “I don’t fucking know Mina. It feels fucking awkward. I hadn’t seen the fucker in fifteen years. The last time we breathed the same air as each other, text messaging wasn’t a thing - it feels unnatural to text him when the last time we talked we were still writing daily emails to each other.” He feels her grin more than he sees it. “What now?”
“Is that why you had your email pulled up. Going retro.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “I knew you were peeping.”
“You can hardly blame me, we’re practically on top of each other in economy class.” There’s a natural pause in the conversation, which Mina picks up from with a more helpful demeanor. “I think you should write the email.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Mina rolls her eyes and turns to face forward. “‘Kay, don’t mind me,” she pulls her sleep mask down over her eyes. “I’m just gonna nap. Long flight.”
As much of a busybody that Mina can be, Katsuki has to admit that she knows when to pull her punches. He looks around the plane - it’s not full by any means and everyone on board looks equally miserable. He opens his laptop and stares at the blank email. His fingers hover over the keys and he sets to work on typing a letter he’s not even sure he’s going to send.
Fate is something that exists in movies and cheesy romance novels. Real life is actually just chaos that people try to desperately steer in the direction they want it to progress. We’re all just being thrown around by the intangible enormity of the universe. And so it is by chaos not fate that Shouto is thrown back into his life. A brief connection more than a second chance. That’s what he tells himself. That’s the reasoning he uses to calm his nerves when they approach each other at the bar after days of not so subtle glances during the three-day long convention.
“Katsuki.” Shouto says when they are standing mere inches from each other. He’d never forgotten Shouto’s voice, but God it takes him back to a lecture hall of a class he doesn’t even remember and a long forgotten wound aches.
And, yet he responds: “Icyhot.”
A grin. “You look good.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Shouto actually ponders the statement, “The feral puppies in Chernobyl are radioactive.”
Katsuki leans on the bar and quirks an eyebrow. “No shit?” He hopes he comes across calm. Like he has it all together. Like the randomness of the statement doesn’t intimately remind him of their late night conversations and the way they made him feel blessed by the mundane.
“Mmm.” Shouto nods sagely. “I feel bad for them. It must be lonely.”
Katsuki scoffs. “They aren’t the only ones.” Shit. He chances a glance at Shouto, his eyes pull him in and under - like the glacial water of the arctic they remind him of. How is he supposed to breathe in these waters? Function? Think? And, yet, find a long forgotten comfort.
“It’s been a long time, Katsuki.”
“Sure has been.”
Shouto glances at the ground then looks back with tentative emotion in his eyes. “I’m out.”
Katsuki raises an eyebrow.
“I mean that I came out to my family.”
And like just that long forgotten comfort had surfaced, so does the bitterness - though, if he were honest, the bitterness has always lingered near the surface. Bleeding into parts of his life with varying amounts of awareness on Katsuki’s end. “Fifteen years to late, dipshit.”
Shouto doesn’t even try to refute the statement. His eyes just grow sad and apologetic. “I missed you.”
Katsuki wonders if missed is years past tense or if he’d been missed up until the moment they made contact. He isn’t one to ask questions that he doesn’t want the answers to. He has missed Shouto. The one that got away. The one that had continued to be a thought in his mind all these years. “Missed my ass is more like it.”
With a cocky grin, “It’s been so long, I’ve almost forgotten.”
“Tch. Yeah right.” It falls quiet between them and the urge to reach out and grasp the moment, to not let Shouto slip away before he can... he doesn’t even know what he wants to do. His mouth works faster than his common sense. “Want a reminder?”
He throws it out there, and it’s only then that he considers that Shouto might not be single. Maybe he came out for somebody that he loved more than he loved Katsuki in college. But Shouto’s eyes don’t look away from him. Curious and considering as Katsuki’s face starts to go hot.
“Look, if it’s a no just -”
Shouto shakes his head and raises two fingers to the bartender. Seconds later there are two shots of something amber placed in front of them - a contract waiting to be formed. An understanding that this is just two men taking advantage of an opportunity to explore one of life’s what-if s. Shouto takes one glass in hand, and Katsuki takes the other. Together they throw them back and bring them down against the bar with a double-tap, just like college.
It only occurs to Katsuki as he swallows the rough liquid that this is similar to the first unofficial date. Though at the it had been a smoky campus bar, and unashamed sexuality. But unlike that encounter, there’s not the possibility of something more. Katsuki doesn’t even know where Shouto has been all these years and their falling out had taken place prior to social media. They won’t make plans to meet again, they won't exchange email addresses and dutifully pen love letters that Katsuki would never admit to. He accepts that fact as the alcohol settles in his stomach.
Shouto tilts his head. “You’re still cute when you blush.”
“I’m in my thirties, there ain’t nothing cute about me.”
The glimmer in Shouto’s eyes tells Katsuki that he doesn’t agree. “Are you staying here?”
“Yeah but my business partner is right next door and can’t mind her own business.”
Shouto turns on his heel and motions for Katsuki to follow, “Then I guess we’re going to my room.”
The elevator ride is quiet and gives Katsuki time to process the situation. He’s not sure how to feel, but maybe he’s not letting himself feel anything. Common sense would probably tell him this is a bad idea - that there are too many unresolved emotions from the past for this to be anything but messy and awkward in the end.
Shouto leads them into his suite, there’s a lounge area with a separate bedroom and it’s when they finally look at each other that Katsuki is reminded that the last time he ‘hooked up’ with somebody had been the week leading up to his 30th birthday. Even then he’d done it more out of a feeling that he was aging out of the frivolity of casual sexual encounters.
Shouto takes a step forward, hand coming to rest on Katsuki’s hips. The ease in which Shouto touches him makes him think that it hasn’t been nearly as long since Shouto’s last casual encounter as it’s been for him. “You’re tense.”
“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think you might be some sort of slut.”
Shouto’s head cocks bemusedly. “How indecent.” They stay locked in a battle of wills until Shouto speaks. “Your move Katsuki.”
Not one to back down from a direct challenge, he snarls and throws his arms loosely around Shouto’s neck. “Your move,” he parrots back.
Katsuki thinks that Shouto might kiss him, maybe even sneak his hand beneath his shirt, but the Icyhot bastard starts rocking them back and forth.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Do you remember when we used to do this to the radio?”
Katsuki wants to ask how Shouto thought he could ever forget. Instead, “Not at all.”
Shouto sees through the lie with alarming ease. “There was that song you liked. You used to play it for me on your guitar.”
His heart clenches.
“You’re not blushing again.”
“I know I’m not, idiot.” Katsuki mumbles.
Shouto smiles softly. “Do you still play guitar?”
“Sometimes.”
“You still know the song?”
“Maybe.”
“You do.”
“Do not.”
“You just said ‘maybe’ now it’s ‘do not?’ Don’t change your answer.”
“Don’t be a little shit then.”
Shouto looks up at the ceiling, “How did it go again?” He hums. “Ah, got it.” Brokenly and out of tune: “ Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you, and all the things you do. Like that, yeah?”
“Close enough.” Katsuki swallows, unable to look Shouto in the eyes. “We never danced with this much space between us.”
In tandem, they come closer, Shouto’s arms encircle Katsuki’s waist and his arms rest more certainly around Shouto’s neck. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
Tentatively and unsure, Katsuki lays his head against Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto doesn’t press further with his teasing, but his head tilts and his cheek rests comfortably against Katsuki’s temple. “I always think of you when that song plays.”
Belatedly and hardly more than a whisper, “Me too.”
They dance a while longer, Shouto hums the song, mumbles broken lyrics randomly, and Katsuki feels like he’s twenty-two and his heart is breaking all over again. But tonight isn’t about heartbreak, it’s about connection and closure, so he pulls away enough to look into Shouto’s eyes. One hand comes to the base of Shouto’s skull so he can pull him down for a kiss.
The passage of time is inevitable, forward and never back. What is in the past will stay there. But not now. The past and present live in that kiss - live in the familiarity of Shouto’s lips. Can connections be timeless?
Soft and explorative becomes rough and desperate. Katsuki hears button pop, though he can’t even be sure from whose shirt they escape. Belts undone, trousers open. He turns his face away and Shouto fervently kisses his neck to give Katsuki a chance to breathe. He feels like he’s drowning and Shouto is his only source of oxygen. “Fuck me tonight, Shou.”
Shouto grabs at his ass, bites Katsuki’s collarbone, and hauls him up. “Yeah,” he breathes against Katsuki’s cheek, eyes shut. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Fuck. Katsuki wraps his legs tighter around Shouto’s waist. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this. He doesn’t accept mediocre sex, but being lifted and clinging to somebody who feels so strong is something that feel inherently juvenile. Grown men don’t get this, he thinks. But there’s that time thing again. He’s not grown when he’s with Shouto, he’s worshiped.
He’s carried to the bedroom and laid out on the plush hotel comforter. Shouto starts yanking at his pants. Katsuki helps by kicking them off his ankles, then sitting up and tugging Shouto’s trousers down his hips, revealing Shouto’s straining red cock. Katsuki would be lying if he said he hasn’t dreamed about sex with Shouto over the years, but dreams can’t compare to the real thing. His fist wraps around the straining erection, his thumb pushing up over the head, making Shouto groan, and fuck he sounds good. Smells good. Looks good.
Shouto’s hand cards through Katsuki’s hair and the motion of it makes him look up, right into Shouto’s darkened eyes. “Say it.”
And he does because Shouto is the only one he’s ever wanted badly enough to beg for. “I want it, Shou. Want it bad.”
His voice is rough with lust but the way his hands caress Katsuki’s face is gentle. “What do you want?”
“Want your cock, baby. Wanna cum on it.”
Shouto grins, then tests the boundary. “Slut.”
And Katsuki lets him break it because he’s too caught up. “Only for you.”
Then they’re colliding back into each other. Shouto pushes him into the bed, grabs the complimentary lube packets from the nightstand and smears it over his fingers. He sucks at Katsuki’s chest, mouth latching on to his inverted nipples and coaxing the sensitive buds out until they stand proud. He pauses to look at his work, eyes growing even more wild when Katsuki pushes his chest upwards, chasing the sensation. Shouto curses to himself before saying, “I want you so bad, Kat.”
“Then fucking take me,” he whines. He fucking whines , he knows he does but he has no time to be embarrassed or unsure because two perfect fingers are shoved into him and Katsuki is helpless but to groan. Shouto gives him a moment to adjust, but Katsuki just pushes back onto his fingers.
Shouto stretches him open with ease and precision that only comes from experience, all the while they kiss. Deep and frenzied - not an ounce of skill or technique but all the better for how messy it is. He opens up so easily for Shouto, like his body remembers how right it feels for them to be like this.
When Shouto pushes his cock into him there’s a feeling of long overdue satisfaction. As though Katsuki’s body had been waiting for Shouto’s cock all these years. He babbles in Katsuki’s ear. He’s not the type to talk about his feelings, but Shouto always loved talking during sex. “Still so pretty, Kat. After all these years.”
Katsuki moans, the unspoken demand for Shouto to say more. To play to Katsuki’s ego.
“I’ve dreamed about this. How good you would still be at taking my cock. Did you miss it?” He asks and his cock presses right into Katsuki’s prostate with such precision it’s like he never forgot how to fuck Katsuki to orgasm. Katsuki is a well practiced instrument.
His nails rake down Shouto’s back. “It’s so fucking good. Fucks me so good.”
Shouto increases his efforts, sits up on his knees for leverage and pulls Katsuki’s arms down the center of his own body for even more. There are tears being fucked out of him, thoughts lost as his starts to white out. “Cum,” he chokes. “I’m gonna cum. Please, holy fuck. Do it Shou, fuck me up.” He’s babbling down, vision blurring - he wishes he could see Shouto’s face clearly because he can see the expression in a hazy memory. Absolute wonderment. Shouto always looked at him like he was amazed Katsuki could even be real.
“ God ,” Shouto pants. “I missed you, baby.”
Katsuki cums hard, harder than he can remember cumming in recent years. Shouto pulls out and Katsuki, of all the pavlovian things he can remember in that moment, closes his eyes and opens his mouth to let Shouto cum on his face, ropes of cum landing over his lashes and going cold while catching their breath.
Eventually Shouto wipes the cum from Katsuki’s lashes and his eye flutters open. Breathing still jagged, “You only ever let me come on your face for special occasions.”
Katsuki swallows, “Yeah, well. Having a one-night stand with your ex counts as one.”
Shouto’s brows scrunch together fractionally and then his face smoothes out to the ever familiar apathy. “Yeah, I guess.”
He quickly gathers that he just said something wrong, but he’s too scared to hope for something to come of this. Fuck Shouto for breaking his heart once, but like hell he would open the door for it to happen twice. Things grow awkward fast, Katsuki goes to the restroom to clean up and when he comes back the room is empty and there’s a TV playing in the living space. He dresses and exits.
Shouto looks casual seated on the couch, his eyes glance to Katsuki - something unspoken in his expression. “We could-”
“I should-”
A pause. A chance. A rejection. Katsuki goes to the door. “It was good seeing you, Icyhot.”
And he’s gone. The elevator ride to his floor is lonely and regret starts to seep in. He reaches into his pocket for his room key and instead finds a business card. He won’t use it, but he puts it back in his pocket anyway.
Icyhot,
I’m on this stupid ass airplane with shit AC and too many fucking people. My ass hurts and all I can think about is your stupid face. This was supposed to be a business trip but you’ve gone and fucked up any business I did because I can’t remember shit from before last night.... So fuck you. And not in the literal sense.
He stares at the screen for a few long moments, and reads the paragraph over a few times. This time he doesn’t erase, he lets the words sit on the page and watches the blinking cursor, it mocks him. The first paragraph might be honest, but he isn’t. With a deep breath he continues, trying to conjure some vulnerability - though it’s never been his strong suit.
You remember when we used to email like this. I printed our exchanges, I have them in a binder somewhere... probably on my bookshelf. Definitely on my bookshelf. It’s easier to talk like this. I don’t have to look at your pretty boy face and think about how only 5% of people could ever hope to look like you at our age. Still I don’t want to admit to half the shit I’ve thought about over the years.
But, I’ll say this: I didn’t want to leave last night. I wanted to sit on that overly expensive leather couch and let you fall asleep with your head in my lap like you always did back when all either of us had was discount furniture. I wanted that then, and I wanted it always.
Next time, if you ask me to stay-
The pilot comes on and announces that they have been cleared for take off. Katsuki looks at his letter unsure how he should finish it, but he doesn’t get a chance to before he is being passive aggressively asked by a stewardess to put it away.
The flight home feels longer, he has too much time to think about the email sitting in his drafts and comes to the conclusion that if Shouto had wanted him to stay he would have asked. It’s the Ockham's Razor of their encounter and the adult thing to do is accept it. So he resolves to.
They land on time, and he has to shake Mina awake. She takes one look at his face and reaches out to grab his knee reassuringly. “You’ll be alright.”
He doesn’t feel like it.
They walk to the luggage carousel and Katsuki takes out his phone to start catching up on work emails. He’s read through all of them when a notification for a new one comes through. He taps it open without reading who it’s from.
Dear Katsuki,
I should have asked you to stay...