Fuselage

♡~♡ Chapter 19 ♡~♡

Katsuki sighed, staring at the phone. Like he had been for twenty minutes now, flipping between apps, trying to think of something to send to Eijirou.

Something that wasn't stupid. Something not blatantly an attempt to get the idiots attention. Something that didn't scream 'KISS ME AGAIN YOU DENSE MOTHER FUCKER'. Frustrated Katsuki pushed up off the mattress, glancing at the shrine.

"Oh fuck off." He slapped the cupboard closed, trudging to the kitchen.

Immediately turning around and opening it again. "Fuckin' sorry, man." He sighed, sitting. "I don't know what to do?" He hung his head in his hands. "I like him. Fuck I like him." Katsuki closed his eyes, feeling those butterfly soft kisses at him temple, skirting over his cheek bone, pressing to the corner of his eye. "God, what do I do?"

'You think you deserve someone like him?'

Katsuki froze, frowned, covering his mouth with a hand. "No." He sighed into his palm. "Idiot." he whispered, muffled.

'You don't deserve anyone.' The voice persisted. 'You don't fit into their world. Look at you. He's taken. He loves someone. He's fighting through a dry spell and you're jerking off over him every night like a teenager.'

Katsuki fought the disgust, the guilt. "God I know." Head hung low, legs curled up. "I know."

'He deserves-'

A chime from the kitchen. Katsuki pushed up off the floor, butterflies gone till he swiped through his notifications.

I was thinking of dying my hair. Eijirou text, sending a picture of that beautiful black hair down, flowing over his shoulders.

Katsuki sucked in his breath, choking on his spit. "Fuck. Fuck, Ei. Fuck." He had to set his phone down, pressing his face to the cool countertop.

The man was naked, a towel hanging off his obliques barely. A light breeze and the guy would be fucking exposed. Did he have any idea what the fuck he was doing?

"No." Katsuki snorted. "Absolutely not." He rolled his eyes, taking a seat.

Still he could enjoy the view; the dips and curves, stretch marks, groomed body hair, the hint of a tattoo he'd never noticed before. Those fucking massive thighs he-

Wanna help me, bro? And a smiley face interrupted.

"Always with the damn emjoi's." Katsuki hissed.

Fingers paused over the keyboard, not knowing how to respond. Not having the energy. His face still tingled where their foreheads touched the other weekend. He knew he'd have a scar where the one punch of Eijirou's landed. Fingers gingerly followed the path Eijirou's had; thumbs brushing over skin.

Absently Katsuki wondered where on him the idiot hadn't touched. Eyes closed, hands started retracing paths. Over shoulders where heavy arms had rested; grounded him, skimming the softer skin of his face in gentle patterns and barely there flickers of breath fanning over him, dipping over the sun faded scars of his arms in hard grabs; frantic punches stopped by walls of flesh. Tripping over depths and planes of his chest where hands had slapped and rested while the idiot had laughed, doubled over Katsuki's shoulder, warm and welcoming. Familiar. Katsuki's breath hitched as fingers skimmed and trickled down his abs where Eijirou's hands had also caressed, slick and wet and soft and warm; leaving him bereft. He could imagine those lips - so chaste and sweet and kind skimming his own. Wanting.

Hungry.

Fingers digging in, palms skirting over skin. Blood on fire, nerves exploding under the imaginative fantasies of mingling breaths and that silky soft hair dusting over him. Almost embarrassed Katsuki was aware he was flushed as waistband snapped to allow him to reach further. He was breathing heavier, he was-