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-5

The first time had been an accident.

Like, yeah, Eijirou knew there were “accidents” and then there were accidents, and maybe he played a little fast and loose with which was which when it came to Katsuki. Maybe his tendency to slip up and get a little overly affectionate was more pronounced with his long-time friend.

But, seriously, this was really an accident.

It wasn’t to say that the hero work itself had been difficult, because there wasn’t any. Fat Gum’s agency, where Eijiro had stayed on to work after graduating while he made a name for himself, had been involved in a court case - some lesser-known hero had been accused of involvement in some shady dealings and called on Fat to testify on her behalf - and he’d had to spend the entire day wearing a suit. A suit.

So it was a matter of course that the first thing he’d done once he’d gotten home was to shuck off his shoes, his tie, his jacket and his socks on the way to the couch, tossing them behind him. He wasn’t wild about clutter, but after a day of sitting in an uncomfortable courtroom, surrounded by uncomfortable people, in uncomfortable clothes, he was itching to feel more like himself.

So he collapsed onto his couch, unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants and getting into the most unnatural pretzel of a position before he just took a moment to groan and deflate. If he never spoke to a lawyer again it’d be too soon.

He was just considering switching on his XBox before his phone buzzed, slipping out of his pocket and over the edge of the couch. He heaved a sigh and twisted, too exhausted to move his legs, groping around on the floor until his fingers closed around the device.

It was a text from Katsuki. As if on reflex, Eijirou glanced at the window - there he was, his silhouette framed in the light of the apartment across the way. Eijirou unlocked the phone and checked the message.

You’re lucky you live across from me and not some pervert. Either close your blinds or your legs, dumbass.

It took a moment to sink in before Eijirou considered his position. He was lying on his back, his shirt hanging open and his legs spread wide, one of them thrown over the back of the couch, his pants unzipped and slung low on his hips. He felt his face begin to burn as he slammed his legs back together and picked himself up, sending another glance towards the window.

Katsuki had turned away from the window and gotten up from his own couch. It looked like he was stalking off to his kitchen.

It was no wonder. He’d probably just been minding his own business before he got an eyeful of his closest friend looking like he was begging to get fucked. Eijirou groaned again, sinking back into the couch, realizing his face wasn’t burning from embarrassment.

No, he realized, he felt more disappointed than anything else.

-4

The next time it happened was…. Slightly less innocent.

He’d just gotten out of the shower after a brisk morning jog. It was starting to get cooler and there was no greater feeling than hot water running down his cold skin. He had the night shift today, so he’d figured he would make lunch and then maybe take a nap so he was well-rested.

Before he could get dressed, however, his phone buzzed. Mina was calling. He picked up and idled in his bedroom with the blinds down, wrapping his towel around his waist.

“What’s up?”

“Hey, Ei! So this is gonna sound weird, but did I leave anything behind last time I was over? I can’t find Ochako’s birthday present and I know I got it just before visiting you.”

“Uh,” Eijirou erred, casting about for anything unfamiliar - which he didn’t expect to find in his bedroom anyway - or perhaps some discarded sweatpants he might cover up with before venturing into his living room. He found none. “I’m not sure. Lemme look, I just need a second.”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” Mina replied as Eijirou rooted through his drawers, wondering where all his laundry had ended up before cursing himself, remembering he’d left it in the communal dryers downstairs. “I’ve still got like a week to find it, I just wanna get a head start. Don’t wanna ruin another celebration with my airheadedness, you know?”

“Mhm,” Eijirou muttered, holding his towel steady as he crouched to look under his bed to see if he’d left any stragglers under there. No luck. He was out of clothes and his only option was changing back into his cold, sweaty workout ensemble, which he really wasn’t feeling up to right now.

Wasn’t Katsuki on the night shift tonight, too?

“It’s like, you get together with a girl who seems just as airheaded as you and you’re like whew, I’m off the hook, but it turns out that not only is she AMAZING at giving gifts, she’s super considerate all the time, and surprises you with flowers and it only makes you feel WORSE that you’re so bad at this -”

“Did you call me just to brag about your amazing significant other?” Eijirou teased, trying not to think too hard about Katsuki, or how he felt so, so tempted to just drop his towel and walk into the living room completely in the buff. “Or are you gonna tell me what exactly I’m looking for?”

“Ah, right! I think it’s in a paper bag - you might be able to smell it, it’s from Lush.”

Eijirou tightened his grip on his towel, opening his bedroom door and glancing around it at the living room beyond. “Is it big?”

“Oh, it’s huge. I got her the full treatment, baby.”

Seeing nothing better for it, Eijirou gritted his teeth and stepped through the doorway, keeping his gaze low and away from the window, hoping Katsuki wasn’t home or was cooking or napping or something, and somehow hoping even harder that the opposite was true. He searched around, checked behind the couch and in the entryway, and headed to the kitchen when it wasn’t there. “Is there anywhere else you could’ve left it? Did you get a Lyft home?”

“No, I took the train… God, I hope I didn’t leave it there. It cost a fortune.”

“Well, it’s not in the kitchen. I don’t know where else it could be.”

“Shit. Could you check around one more time? Please?”

“Of course, Mina. I - oh!” The moment Eijirou stepped into the living room, he noticed something poking out from behind the bookshelf. He drew closer and heaved a sigh of relief. “I found it, Mina. It was hiding.”

“Oh, thank God, thank every heavenly body there is. I know I was covering it well but Gods was I nervous.”

Eijirou laughed, crouching and letting go of his towel to reach for the bag. It really was big - and heavy. “Anytime, dude. Do you want me to drop by and give it to you?”

“Oh, no! I wouldn’t make you come out this far, I’ll just come by for it myself. When is good for you?”

Eijirou took a moment to think, straightening up with the bag in hand. His towel slipped dangerously low on his hips, but Eijirou was too occupied by his thoughts to notice, turning toward the window to contemplate the question.

Which was how he caught sight of Katsuki, standing eerily still at his window.

The towel fell.

“Shit!” Eijirou swore loudly, scrambling to cover himself, the large brown bag coming in handy until he winced, realizing Ochako’s gift had just touched his junk. He stiffly crabwalked back to his room, Mina’s sounds of confusion following him over the phone.

“You might wanna re-wrap this present,” Eijirou mumbled, by way of response.

-3

Over the next few days, things seemed… almost overwhelmingly normal.

Katsuki didn’t say a word about the - very literal - slip-up. He’d even come over for dinner and video games at one point and was his usual self, abrasive but no longer unnecessarily sharp the way he’d been in high school. If anything, he’d been just a little bit tense, but he’d told Eijirou it was only because his agency had been working on a pretty big drug bust this week and they were planning a raid for the next day.

The visit had left Eijirou reeling.

It wasn’t unreasonable that he might be worried about Katsuki, and he was. Drug raids were serious business and Katsuki had made it sound like the culprits knew their shit pretty well. Yeah, to some extent, he was concerned for his friend.

But Katsuki knew what he was doing, and he’d made it clear that the agency had plan after plan after plan for if things went wrong. He wasn’t dumb, and neither were any of the people he worked with.

No, what had Eijirou flustered as he got ready for bed was this feeling - this feeling that he wanted things to not be normal. He kinda wanted Katsuki not to be his usual self, to see him with his face flushed and his eyes cast aside, trying to be normal and failing. He wished with all his heart he’d paid attention to Katsuki’s expression during the unintentional flashing.

Eijirou groaned around his toothbrush. He’d thought he’d gotten over this crush years ago - it’d been one thing when they were fifteen and he’d barely known anything about the guy except that he was really pretty and really grumpy, but he was twenty-one now. He should have a better grasp on his emotions.

But no, here he was, a grown-up - well, sort of a grown-up - stumbling over leftover feelings from back during his gay awakening.

He spat out his toothpaste, thinking. He didn’t wanna push things too far - Katsuki’s friendship was too good to lose. As he stripped down for bed, he began to formulate an idea.

He had the next day off, and he knew Katsuki would be doing something dangerous. It wasn’t uncommon for either of them to wait up for the other if they knew they were doing something big - just until they saw the other one’s lights turn on, then they’d wave to each other and go to bed.

Maybe he could give Katsuki a little treat before bed - nothing big, nothing spectacular. Just something so Eijirou could see how he reacted. Just…. Just to see. If he had a chance. Probably.

 

The basic time frame Katsuki had laid out the previous day had had him coming home in the wee hours of the morning, so Eijirou braced himself for a long night. Black tea and the movie backlog he’d been meaning to make his way through when he was less caught up in work… as if he was ever not caught up in work.

But, here’s the kicker; he was watching movies…. In his underwear.

Yeah, there were more daring things he could do to test the waters, but again - he was only testing them. Just poking a toe in, just to see. He didn’t wanna scare Katsuki off, because their friendship was too important to him.

Yeah.

As much as he’d wanted to see Katsuki flustered and stammering, he was getting pretty red just thinking about what sort of face he might make once he was home. Would he like it? Would he just be his usual ornery self about it?

Eijirou started the first movie, cupping his tea eagerly. He felt solidly tempted to go into his bedroom and pick up a blanket, feeling strange about just lounging around with so little on, but that would defeat the purpose. Instead, he sipped his tea to keep himself warm and tried to focus on The Fast and the Furious reboot.

“Tried” being the key word.

He could barely focus on the movie with how much he was glancing toward the window, toward Katsuki’s apartment. Sure, it was hardly necessary to focus on the plot with The Fast and the Furious, but with every gratuitous explosion he was only reminded of Katsuki, resulting in him missing the usually eye-catching action of the franchise.

After finishing the first movie, he was still only nervous about being seen in his underwear. After the second, however, he began to worry. It was after a third, making his way through a fourth, that he texted Katsuki.

It’s almost four. Are you okay? Are you in the hospital? Do you need me to meet you somewhere?

He alternately stared out his window and at his phone, the movie all but forgotten by now. All the caffeine from earlier was coming back to haunt him in several ways, making his eyes droop and his anxiety rocket off the charts at the same time, but he refused to leave sight of the window. He longed to see the lights in Katsuki’s apartment switch on, longed to see Katsuki home safe.

It was four-thirty in the morning when he finally got his wish. With a sigh of relief, he watched Katsuki slog his way through his apartment, clearly dead on his feet. He wasn’t in full costume anymore, but the fitted tank and black pants were there. Eijirou watched him stretch before he turned toward his window, and Eijirou suddenly remembered his clothing situation.

Struggling to keep his cool, he raised his hand, waving slightly before giving a questioning thumbs-up.

Katsuki’s expression was hard to read from here, but it seemed mostly flat. It was one of those Katsuki expressions that only Eijirou and a select few others could read. He was tired - so physically and mentally drained, he probably could barely see ten feet in front of him.

After a moment, Katsuki waved back, then offered a thumbs-up of his own. No casualties. Eijirou felt another flood of relief hit him. He waved once again, then got up to head for his bedroom.

Katsuki didn’t move. As Eijirou flicked his lights off, he thought he saw Katsuki’s expression flutter with… something.

-2

A few days later, Eijirou opened the blinds in his bedroom, savoring the morning sunlight pouring in. This time, he didn’t have anything planned - at least not until he saw Katsuki lounging in his own bed, his blinds thrown open as well. Eijirou watched him for a moment before it occurred to him that he was still in his pajamas.

Katsuki was reading a book. He might be a little too engrossed to notice if Eijirou did anything. As an idea inched into Eijirou’s mind, he wasn’t sure if he’d prefer it one way or the other.

He peeled himself away from the window, pretending he hadn’t seen Katsuki. He pulled off his sweatpants and tossed them in his laundry hamper. He did the same with his sleep shirt. He was down to his underwear.

Then, haltingly, he took those off too.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

He turned to his dresser, slowly picking through the clothes inside. He needed to go for a run at some point today. He picked his entire workout outfit before he started re-dressing.

Don’t look don’t look don’t look

He pulled on his boxer-briefs, his jogging pants, and his shirt.

Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook

He looked.

His eyes met with Katsuki’s. He was wearing an expression Eijirou had never seen before, eyes wide, mouth set in a thin line. The moment Eijirou saw him, he turned sharply away, burying his face back in his book.

Eijirou wondered what that meant.

-1

He’d gotten a little more daring over the course of the past week. More underwear, more posing, more glances toward Katsuki’s apartment. He began to wonder how long it’d be until Katsuki finally got fed up with it all and sent him a scalding text like the first time.

But it didn’t happen. He saw that expression a few more times, yes, but all in all, he had been very tight-lipped about this whole thing.

Eijirou, despite himself, wanted to change that.

He wanted to make Katsuki break. He wanted to see his face when he couldn’t bear it anymore, when he had no choice but to say something or -

Or take action.

The thought made him groan over his dinner, glancing over his shoulder at the window. He was fully dressed, for once, and wasn’t sure if Katsuki was home. He pressed a hand over his groin, willing himself to wait until after he’d eaten. He picked up his chopsticks and grimaced, forcing down some leafy greens, thinking about what Katsuki said last time he was here for dinner - Eat your damn vegetables, or you’ll get scurvy or some shit and that’d be a terrible way to go.

What if I just don’t eat them and never get scurvy?

Then I’ll kill you.

That sounds like an equally terrible way to go.

Yeah, but like, for different reasons.

God, he wanted him here. The unquenchable thirst was one thing, but the ache in his chest, the middle-school-crush feeling, was unbearable. He wanted Katsuki to be here, to fuss over his eating habits, to muss his hair when it was down, to cuddle him and kiss his forehead.

This was a nightmare.

He finished off his plate and deposited it in the sink, running the water over it briefly so that it wouldn’t get sticky. He made his way back to his bedroom, figuring he’d get cozy before he saw movement in the corner of his eye. Katsuki was back from wherever he’d been. Eijirou offered up a lazy wave, but Katsuki didn’t see. He was in his workout gear, his face flushed red and sweat matting his hair.

He was gorgeous.

Eijirou watched him stride through his room, grabbing a fresh towel and turning for the bathroom. He shut the door and Eijirou let himself kind of wish he hadn’t.

Eijirou’s thoughts wandered back to the thought he’d had earlier, about Katsuki taking action. His dick twinged.

He didn’t have much time.

He palmed himself as he made his way to the bed, his legs already feeling like jelly. He was so hard already, just thinking about Katsuki seeing, that he could hardly position himself against the headboard before he was thrusting his pants down over his hips. He groped his bulge through his underwear, hissing out a breath as he glanced toward the window once again.

The door to Katsuki’s bathroom was still closed…. Good.

Eijirou stared at the door as he slid his underwear down, reaching for his nightstand to get some lube. He had to be fast. Katsuki’s showers weren’t especially long. He poured some into his hand and touched his cock again, letting another breath pass through his teeth.

He couldn’t let Katsuki see.

He shouldn’t let Katsuki see.

God, he wanted him to see so badly.

He pumped eagerly, building up a steady pace as he battled his own thoughts. Katsuki was naked right now, running his hands through his hair, water flowing down his body. He was probably running soaped-up hands over his body, over his beautiful pecs and -

Eijirou bit down a whimper, barely keeping himself from puncturing his lip with his sharp teeth. He squeezed his hand, panting, moaning, wanting so, so badly for Katsuki to see him, to want him.

He came with a halting moan, not stopping the movement of his hand, milking himself through his orgasm, ropes of cum spilling over his black shirt. He panted, running his tongue over his abused lower lip as he came down from his high.

He chanced a look at the window.

Katsuki was standing in his bedroom, blushing so hard Eijirou could see it all the way down to his chest even across the gap between their apartments. He was wearing that same bizarre, unfamiliar expression Eijirou had seen all those other times, almost cartoonishly exaggerated this time.

Worst of all, he was only wearing a towel.

Eijirou yelped and scrambled to get his pants back on, or to get to the bathroom, or to get anywhere that didn’t feature himself and his best friend staring each other down in various states of undress. His pants tangled around his legs and he tumbled over the side of his bed, hitting his shoulder on the way down, cursing and struggling and overall feeling like an absolute buffoon.

He slammed his bathroom door and leaned back against it, breathing harshly, then planting his face in his palms as he slid down, groaning at his incompetence. What the fuck was his problem? If he wanted Katsuki to see him so badly, why had he made such an ass of himself?

He needed a plan.

+1

Years ago, a certain Aizawa-sensei had told Eijirou he needed to be more mobile.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking damage if you can afford it and I know that it’s the obvious stance to take with your quirk, but there will be times when it’s to your benefit to know how to switch it up as well. Get Ashido to help you. She needs to work on defensive positioning as well.”

Mina had seemed enthusiastic enough at the proposition, offering Eijirou a grin and a fist bump, but Eijirou had his doubts.

“I mean, it’s obvious I can’t be as mobile as you are. It just doesn’t work with my quirk.”

“Eh, I don’t really think it’s about being on the same level. If you can have a trick or two to throw villains off when they make assumptions based on your quirk, that’s enough, right?”

But even with that in mind, Eijirou struggled. As Mina tossed streams of acid his way, he fought his natural impulse to stay still and harden, instead dodging around, feeling a little silly.

After about the fifth time she managed to hit him, her diluted acid still managing to make his skin sizzle, he broke.

“How is it possible that you can move around like this?” he wheezed, breath coming harsh after all that movement. “I’m athletic as hell and I can’t keep up at all!”

She just laughed brightly, holding up the victory symbol with her fingers. “Dance classes, dude! Keeps me loose!”

With that taken into consideration, Eijirou had signed up for some classes. And, shock upon shock, they worked. The next time he’d faced off against her, he’d kept up much better, although he definitely preferred his usual fighting style.

“What classes did you take?” Mina inquired after the fight, her eyebrows raising with curiosity. “Some of those moves… well, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Eijirou blushed. Hard. “Well. There was only one still open…”

 

The next time Eijirou had a day off, Katsuki had been on the day shift. All well and good, he supposed. It gave him time to practice.

He didn’t have too many mirrors in his apartment, so a proper dance studio wasn’t exactly realistic, but he did move his couch and TV setup to the edges of the room so he’d have some space. He couldn’t see himself while he was practicing beyond his reflection in the window. He hoped it’d be enough.

About half an hour before Katsuki was due home, he primped in the mirror. Denki had told him a number of times that he could augment his sexiness by choosing a loose half-bun over his usual hairstyle, so he’d done exactly that. He felt a little ridiculous looking himself over - he’d agonized over whether he should wear proper jeans or some loose-fitting workout pants, eventually settling on mobility over style. That said, he’d put on some neon yellow pants and a tight black tank top. It wasn’t a terribly elegant style choice, but it was eye-catching for sure.

He wondered whether he could at least style up some hair-horns. Denki thought they were silly, but they were his statement. Eventually, he decided no, he had a loose style going on here and he didn’t want to overbalance it.

What did people wear on their feet when they’re trying to be sexy? He pondered, looking down. Stripper heels? He had a pair of glittery pumps Mina had left behind after a pub crawl once, but he doubted those would fit, and he was even more doubtful that he could dance properly in them. Did strippers ever wear socks?

He pulled out his phone, meaning to google some pictures of male strippers, and gawped when he saw the time. He had, like, ten minutes left. He had to get a move on. 

He ended up going out barefoot. He figured it wouldn’t exactly be sexy to watch him try to pull his pants off over his shoes. He settled in his living room to wait.

Katsuki showed at exactly the right time, coming through his door while Eijirou watched, stiffening, willing himself not to activate his quirk. He forced himself to breathe as Katsuki flicked his light on. He’d showered and changed already, Eijirou observed, feeling heat creep into his cheeks.

Before he could lose his nerve, he picked up his phone.

Hey, he started, sending the message before he could chicken out. He then typed his second message. Could you come to the window? I wanna show you something.

He pulled up the song in question on his phone as he waited, watching as Katsuki removed his coat and recombobulated before pulling out his phone, checking his messages. After a moment, he looked up at the window and slowly came forward.

It was now or never.

Eijirou stood and pressed play, facing away from the window. He put his phone down and let the opening chords play before he dropped, running his hands up his sides as he raised himself back up, shimmying slightly as he tossed his head. He gyrated his hips, sending a teasing glance over his shoulder.

Katsuki was frozen to the spot.

Eijirou swallowed down his nerves, his heart pounding as he hooked his thumbs in his waistband, teasing it lower before pulling it back up and turning around, dropping to the ground once more with his pelvis in the air, facing Katsuki. He rolled his body, thrusting his hips sensually as he made eye contact with his best friend.

Katsuki had a hand covering his mouth now, the other crossed over his body. His brow was furrowed slightly.

Eijirou rolled himself up, sashaying his hips from side to side as he slowly, slowly peeled off his shirt. He wiped his forehead with it, grinning despite his nerves, and tossed it away.

He watched as one of Katsuki’s hands roamed downward.

He turned away once more, bending at the hips. He smoothed his hands over his legs, down and then back up, and then began to twerk.

The music cut off as his phone rang, startling Eijirou out of his ministrations. He looked over his shoulder at Katsuki, who had his phone in his hand and had finally stopped covering his mouth. He mouthed the words PICK UP.

Eijirou felt his face burn with shame. This was it. He’d ruined it. Katsuki wasn’t into it and he’d ruined their friendship forever.

He slinked toward where he’d left his phone, crouching down to pick it up. He hit the green button and held it to his ear.

“Katsuki,” Eijirou said, his syllables coming out rushed and anxious. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me and I should’ve never -”

“I’m coming over.”

“I - you don’t - what?”

“I’m coming over, dipshit. Gimme five minutes.”

And with that, he hung up. Eijirou’s heart jumped into his throat. Katsuki hadn’t called him dipshit in years. And now he was coming over.

Eijirou was gonna die. Katsuki was going to kill him.

He hadn’t just ruined their friendship, he’d terminated his own existence.

He stood, frozen to the spot. Should he run? Maybe he should run. Maybe he should jump out the window and spare Katsuki the trouble.

Maybe he should put some clothes on.

He wrestled the disposed tank back on, not caring that it was inside-out, and harried to his room. He grabbed the biggest, baggiest hoodie he could find and threw it on as a loud knock sounded from his front door.

“Coming!” he yelped, wincing at his own tone. His hands shook as he approached the door, his fingers barely cooperating as he slid the chain free and unlocked the deadbolt.

He took a deep breath to steady himself before he opened the door.

And then, suddenly, Katsuki was on him, and he hardened himself in anticipation.

“Fuck! Shit, what the fuck, Ei?”

Katsuki’s mouth was bloody. He wiped at it, giving Eijirou the most thoroughly perplexed expression he’d ever seen on that face.

“I - wait, I - what?”

“I was trying to kiss you, dumbass! What kind of mixed messages are you sending, doing a goddamn strip tease and then coming to your door with - with -”

Katsuki gestured up and down Eijirou’s form, frustration clear on his face before it gave way to confusion and then realization.

“Th-that dance - was that just. Practice? For someone else?”

Eijirou blinked.

Katsuki stared down at his feet. His laces weren’t even tied.

“God, I’m an idiot. God, what a piece of shit. I’m - shit, I shouldn’t’ve - I’ll just -”

Eijirou grabbed his arm as Katsuki turned to leave, still wrestling with his ability to speak.

“No, I - Katsuki, no, that was -” he trailed off, feeling his face burning hotter than ever. “That was all for you,” he finished weakly, looking off to one side.

Silence hung between them for a moment. Then, Katsuki reached out, gently grasping the loose sleeve of Eijirou’s hoodie.

“So… what’s up with this.”

“I, uh,” Eijirou stammered, “I kinda thought you were coming to murder me.”

Katsuki took a moment to process this revelation. Then he burst out laughing.

Eijirou frowned, unable to keep himself from snorting a little bit himself but determined to keep up the facade. “Well, what was I supposed to think? You shout at me over the phone and then show up at my door uninvited? You rush me the moment I’ve got the door open? What did you want me to think, Katsuki, huh?”

Katsuki was wheezing at this point, tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. He forced out a few syllables, trying to reply, but laughing too hard to say anything coherent. “Th-that -” he managed finally, “What part of that whole thing wasn’t an invitation, Eijirou? You think shaking your ass in my face wasn’t gonna make me come rushing to you as nakedly as possible?”

Eijirou hadn’t thought it was possible to blush even harder than he’d already been, but tonight was full of surprises. He chanced a look at Katsuki’s clothed crotch. “You… I - for me?” he said, intelligently.

Still shaking with the aftershocks of laughter, Katsuki brought his hand around the back of Eijirou’s head and pressed their lips together. “All for you, Ei,” he purred, still giggling.

And, shit, Katsuki’s giggles were more contagious than herpes.

“Well, uh,” Eijirou breathed through his own laughter, “Do you. Want me to finish my dance, or…”

And Katsuki took Eijirou’s hand, smirking, and pulled him along to his bedroom.