“You know how long it took Masaru to take a fuckin’ hint, Izuku?” The Old Hag prompted, poised over a steaming bowl of oden with one elbow on hard wood, chopsticks pointed at the Old Man across the table.
“N-No idea, how long?”
“Fucking forever is how long. I was as obvious as could be! I tell you, I woulda had better luck flirting with a sea urchin.”
“No need to exaggerate, hun, I don’t think I was all that bad.” The Old Man interjected, abashed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
The Old Hag stared, unimpressed, before turning to Izuku with a blank look. “We’re designers, Izuku, we worked in the same building as consultants before we took over the place. I came to work in form fitting, revealing clothes everyday. I sat on his desk! I bit my lip! Batted my eyelashes like Betty Boop! And you know what this man had the gall to say to me every damn day?”
“W-What did he say, Auntie Mitsuki?”
“‘Aren’t you cold?’” she deadpanned. “What kind of response is that?!”
“I was genuinely curious. Your skirts were so short, dear, I thought surely there was no way you were comfortable.”
“Don’t you have any social awareness at all? I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman.”
A small smile spread on the Old Man’s lips, his eyes warm as he gazed at his wife. “Well, it’s because I’m a gentleman that it all worked out, right?”
“I guess that’s true,” the Old Hag relented, smiling back before returning her gaze to a clearly lost Deku. “He kept offering me his jacket. As annoying as it was that he didn’t get what I was trying to do, it was sweet. And cute.”
“Gave us a reason to meet back up at the end of our shifts, too. All’s well that ends well.”
“Mm, you’re right for once. But he’s still a dense idiot, isn’t he, Izuku?”
Deku perked up at the question, glancing between them cluelessly. He offered an awkward shrug, and Katsuki would have laughed if his mind wasn’t busy playing jump-rope with itself, stuck on a constant loop of: I kissed Deku and he liked it I kissed Deku and I liked it I kissed Deku and we both fucking liked it.
Casually, he snared a boiled egg between his chopsticks, clamping his hand around the wood to cut the egg in half and pop a piece in his mouth. He watched as his parents joked over their food, pulling Deku into the conversation occasionally. His eyes were constantly dipping down, following the curve of Izuku’s lips, darting to the tongue that poked out when he leaned in for a bite of beef. It was annoying as hell.
YOU ARE READING
Halfway to the Moon
Fanfiction💛BAKUDEKU💛COMPLETE💛SLOWBURN💛SAD DEKU💛HAPPY ENDING💛 Izuku doesn't know how to handle being depressed, his middle school bullies, the rigorous training All Might has him on, and the burden his mother is under trying to provide for a kid all by h...
