Bonus Chapter 3

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COntRol
Bonus Chapter 3

[No one's POV]

Their clothes were off that night. Neither knew how they'd ended up naked in that bed but all Eijiro knew was that he wanted to be close to Denki. He wanted the burning contact of skin pressed against skin, with nothing to separate them. Neither questioned, or even thought twice, instantly going to sleep.

That night was the first night that Eijiro was absent of thoughts about Katsuki.

Katsuki, surprisingly, could say the same. Not once that evening had he thought of Eijiro. His head was filled with Izuku.

He was in the wrong. He shouldn't have kissed Izuku like that. Izuku was there to help him, and he'd always had since he'd first brought his personal problems to him. Kissing him like that probably confused him.

What had bothered him, however, was what he'd said before he ran off.

"Y-You don't l-love me! Y-You... Y-YOU JUST TH-THINK I'M-M ANOTHER K-KIRISHIMA!"

Did he though? Was Izuku really another Eijiro, at that moment when he kissed him? Did he really wish for something as cruel as picturing Izuku as Eijiro, and then kiss him?

No.

He thought of him as Deku.

He kissed Deku.

And he felt something.

Deku wasn't another Eijiro. He was Deku. The hero who always manages to evoke the problems out of his chest.  He doesn't know how he does it, but he always ends up spilling out everything to him. Maybe because they were childhood friends? Maybe because these foreign emotions made the problems ten times worse, or just by looking at those stupid, annoying, emerald eyes?

He kissed him, because he was Deku.

His Deku.

He likes - no - loves Deku - Izuku.

He loves him. Always has.

And now its his turn to make things right, just as Eijiro had tried to multiple times.

If it wasn't already too late.

He was sure Izuku was still awake, and knocks on his door a few times, waiting for an answer to come. A few seconds pass before someone opens the door by just a crack, a solitary green eye peering at him. Everything behind that eye was dark - pitch black. He'd probably drawn the curtains, despite always keeping them open. He knew Izuku likes waking up to a bright morning with the sun in his face during the weekends.

"Katsuki," he says, and Katsuki had realises how unnatural that name sounded off Izuku's lips, "What a-are you doing here?"

His voice was cracked, but held hostility, as if trying to push the blonde away from him, like a cactus with spikes.

"I want to talk," he says flatly, his hands fidgeting nervously behind his back. He had to set things straight. Who was the one person who'd been good to him all these years? Who had he owed so much to? Who had always aided him whenever he was hurt, both physically or mentally? Who had always given that hand to help him stand once more?

It was Izuku.

Always Izuku.

"I-I don't... want to..."

In honesty, after all that had happened in the changing rooms, from that kiss that made the past embraces and words of love settle to a truth he knew was too painful to understand, it was hard for him to forgive or even see Katsuki. Right that minute, he wasn't even looking at the boy in front of him, instead focusing on the intersection of the wall and the floor.

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