they kiss in the rain at the end.

Katsuki’s dream starts like this. 

He’s lying on his back in his bed in the dark. His bedside lamp is off. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow and he attempts to reach for it, but a sharp jolt of something  runs up his spine and makes his mind go blank and his vision go white. Katsuki’s back arches off the mattress, head tossed back as a deep moan is startled from him. Panting and drooling, he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling of his bedroom, shivering and twitching and squeezing and — oh. 

There’s something inside him. 

Oddly, Katsuki doesn’t feel petrified. He feels perfectly okay — more than okay. Instead of being scared, the sensation of feeling that something inside him makes him keen rather lewdly, his ass clenching around whatever was stuffed deep inside him. A groan sounds above him, breathless and sounding just as good  as Katsuki feels. Katsuki whimpers and rocks his hips, subconsciously grinding down in that perfect angle and —

Katsuki cries out, body jolting wildly as something thrusts in and out again and again, urging a desperate moan from his throat each time it striked his prostate. Katsuki groans and screams and he doesn’t even bother to quiet himself, neighbors be damned. Katsuki throws his head back and whimpers and moans are being punched out of him left and right. Delirious with pleasure, Katsuki clenches tight. He moans as he feels it even more, filling him up completely. It was so big, Katsuki could feel it in his stomach. Absent-mindedly, Katsuki places a hand over his stomach. His eyes grow wide. His mouth drops open. Seconds later, his back arching so high off the bed that it hurt, Katsuki cums, hot and messy and loud — Katsuki can’t stop moaning, his breath is hitching and he can’t think clearly, not when he feels so fucking good — 

“Oh, Kacchan. . .” a voice above him whispers in awe. Katsuki’s eyes fly open and — oh. Katsuki groans and wriggles his hips, grinding down on Izuku’s dick, jaw slack as moans spill from him continuously. 

“Please, again, please please please Iz — UKU!” Katsuki cuts off with a scream as Izuku snaps his hips forward again, grasping the back of Katsuki’s knees and folding him in half, his thighs flush against his chest. Katsuki’s chest rattles and vibrates as he moans deeply, the sound of Izuku’s hips slapping against Katsuki’s ass filling the room and making him tighten around Izuku’s dick. Katsuki cries out as Izuku plunges deep and slow inside him, again and again. Katsuki bucks desperately — or, at least, as much as he could in this position. “ ‘zuku — ahhng!” Katsuki throws his head back and groans breathily. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku hums, the vibration from the sound shivers through Katsuki’s bones. Katsuki whines, letting go of the sheets and gripping at Izuku’s hair, fisting it tightly. Izuku groans and thrusts faster. Katsuki whimpers as the over-sensitivity starts to get to him, making him tingly all over, making everything so much intense — the buzzing ecstasy and pleasure making Katsuki keen. 

“Mmghn — Izuku,” he chokes out, twisting his hands in those wild green curls. Izuku grunts and his tattooed arms flex as his hands tighten around Katsuki’s knees. The pads of Izuku’s thumbs stroke up and down before his hands loosen once again and they slide down further, to the backs of Katsuki’s thighs. Katsuki’s breath hitches as Izuku squeezes his thighs with a soft groan. 

“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers, “Kacchan, I love your thighs.” Katsuki moans. 

“F-fuck — AH!” Katsuki yells, his head snapping back as his throat vibrates with his moans. Izuku hums again and leans forward to kiss and suck at Katsuki’s bared throat, urging another whimper from Katsuki. 

“Izuku. . .” Katsuki mumbles, “Izuku. . . s’too much, mhpft —” he grunts, squeezes his eyes shut in painful pleasure and slight discomfort. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Izuku says quietly into his neck, his hips pausing, his grip becoming gentler. Izuku nuzzles into him and waist for Katsuki’s answer. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kacchan. I love you.” 

“Izuku —”

And that’s how Katsuki wakes up — panting with teary eyes and sweaty skin and sheets, his underwear sticky. Katsuki lays there for a moment, breathless and slightly shaken by his. . . surreal dream. Everything felt hyper-aware and sensitive, and it was overwhelming — and Katsuki loved it. His skin buzzes with the anticipation of Izuku’s touch and strong hands. His heart pounds crazily inside his ribcage and his breath is labored and fast. He shakes with the aftershocks of his dream-orgasm and can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Absent-mindedly, he touches his stomach and recalls the feeling of Izuku’s dick stuffing him full. Katsuki moans, closing his eyes tightly shut. 

Boom Boom’s head lifts up from where it rests on her paws and she looks at him almost accusingly, suspicious. Katsuki snorts and slowly sits up, taking note of how hard he was. He thinks of Ashido and Eijirou kissing and he’s soft again. Katsuki wrinkles his nose at the mess in his underwear, making his way across his room and opening his drawer. He reaches for new underwear. He walks out of his room and listens to the sound of Boom Boom’s claws clacking against the floor as he goes to the bathroom. He shuts the door instinctively, and almost immediately Boom Boom starts to whine like she did last night, nosing at the door. Katsuki sighs and opens the door and Boom Boom pushes her way in hurriedly. Katsuki snorts and shakes his head. 

“You’re one helluva dog, y’know that, BB?” he says, petting her head gently. Boom Boom’s tongue lulls out of her mouth and she grins at him. Katsuki scoffs, but he can’t stop the smile growing on his own face. 

Katsuki hops into the shower and quickly pumps shampoo into his cupped palm. He scrubs his hair and after that he gets some conditioner. After he applies that to his hair, he washes his face and body as hastily as he can. As he reaches to turn off the shower head, his dream abruptly comes back to him, invading his mind and making him pause. Katsuki swallows. He looks down. He lets out an irritated groan. 

Boom Boom barks worriedly. Katsuki sighs. “I’m alright!” he yells. Just in case Boom Boom can’t understand him — she probably can’t — he snatches the plastic part of the shower curtain and pulls it back so he can peek his head out. Boom Boom barks again. Katsuki rolls his eyes and retreats back in the shower, water dripping down his body. He exhales deeply and thinks of Mina and Kirishima kissing again. That does the trick. 

He turns off the shower head and gets out. Reaching for a towel, he wraps it around his waist and picks up his clothes. Then, he heads out of the bathroom with Boom Boom on his heels. He quickly gets dressed, Boom Boom watching him carefully while sniffing the air. After he’s dressed, he trots down the hallway and to the laundry room, where Bitch is surprisingly sleeping. She usually sleeps on the couch or under it. Katsuki gives her a blink before he sighs and kneels down to open the dog food. He dumps the right amount in BB’s bowl and shakes it slightly to get her attention. Boom Boom gobbles it down. Katsuki then grabs her water bowl and fills it up at the kitchen sink. After that, he opens the cat food and fills up Bitch’s bowl. He gets her water. On his way back from doing that, he snatches an apple from the pantry and sets it on the kitchen table, so he doesn’t forget to eat it. Then he quickly brushes his teeth and takes his phone off the charger and slips it into the pocket of his ripped jeans. As he speed-walks down the hall, he grabs his car keys that sat on the tall, skinny circular table in the middle of the hallway. He enters the living room, and he pauses, pulling his phone out and checking the time. The bright screen hurts his already-aching eyes. He’s exhausted. He always is, anyway. His eyes are heavy, and his movements feel slow and shaky. Katsuki blinks at his screen, trying to get his eyes to focus. 

1: 23. Katsuki sighs and rubs his face. Bitch meows and slides against his calves. He bends down and pets her slowly and softly, resting his eyes for a minute. He could fall asleep right here. He exhales heavily, shoulders sagging. Then he inhales sharply and pulls himself up again. He can do this. Katsuki goes over to the kitchen table and picks up his apple. As he leaves his apartment, he takes a large bite of it. Flavor bursts on his tongue, juicy and fucking delicious. He savors the taste of it, cherishes each crunch of the apple as he chews. This is going to be one of the only things he’ll be eating today, so he might as well enjoy it. 

He arrives at the flower shop at 1:28 a.m. The street isn’t too busy, so he doesn’t run into a lot of people on the sidewalk — the mere thought of having to talk to a stranger this early in the morning makes Katsuki want to throw up his apple all over the sidewalk. Thankfully, no one ever spared him a glance, and Katsuki’s heart was saved from a heart attack. His heart, though, is still pounding when he opens the door to his shop, flipping on the lights and turning the CLOSED to OPEN. The bell announces his entry. For a moment, Katsuki breathes out a trembling exhale and leans against the door. For a moment, Katsuki closes his eyes and drinks in the silence, inhaling the sweet smell of flower pollen and nectar. His heartbeat slows. His breathing evens out. He stops sweating. 

With a sigh, Katsuki pushes himself away from the door and starts towards the back. He sets down his purse-satchel-thing — whatever the hell it’s called, Katsuki just got it because it looked so fucking cool — on the front desk as he passes it. He heads to the back and his nose is immediately, pleasantly overwhelmed by the fragrance of flower sperm. Katsuki’s mouth twitches. Then he shakes his shoulders and clears his mind, letting it go numb and blank. Then he gets to work. 

It takes a little bit to move all the flowers to their designated spots — it always does — but Katsuki doesn’t really mind all that much. He likes tending his flowers; he really, really does. It makes him happy — and it’s familiar. His grandmother would be so proud of him. 

Katsuki sniffles. His eyes start to sting. “Fuck,” he says under his breath, hastily wiping his pathetic baby tears. Don’t fucking cry, god dammit. Fuck. Katsuki takes a few shaky deep breaths and calms himself, willing the onslaught of tears to disappear. After a moment, the tightness in his throat and the sensation of teary eyes goes away. Katsuki gets back to work. 

He’s delicate with his flowers, like he’s handling fragile glass — which, in a way, he sort of is. Flowers are very fragile. All it takes is one slip of your finger and it’s all ruined. That happened once to Katsuki. 

He had cried. Okay, he’s a little bit emotional when it comes to his flowers. When one of them wilts, he withers with it. When one dies, a sliver of Katsuki dies with it. When one blooms, Katsuki thrives. When one grows tall and beautiful, Katsuki feels tall and beautiful — he’s on the short side, but whatever. He’s 5’5. He hasn’t grown an inch since he was 16. 

He’s 24 now. And yes, his friends make fun of him plenty for his height, his shortness — because it just so happens that both Mina and Kyouka are taller than him. Mina by, like, half-an-inch and Kyouka by at least two-and-a-half. 

And he’s only as careful as he is with his flowers because they mean so much to him — they’re a symbol. Of his new life, of his freedom, of his happiness — his grandmother, too. Flowers have been in Katsuki’s life for as long as he can remember — and he plans on keeping them in his life until he dies. Flowers will be sitting on his porch with him as he rocks in his rickety old rocking chair as an old man, wrinkly and wilted. 

Katsuki wipes the sweat from his brow and huffs. He looks up at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly 2:00 a.m. He still has watering and potting and fertilizing to do. Changing the soil and stuff and swapping pots for the flowers who are growing too big — Katsuki doesn’t mind. How can he? He loves doing this, getting his hands covered in damp soil and dirt, being surrounded by the smell of earth and nature and flower pollen — he wouldn’t do anything else with his life than this. 

Katsuki cracks his knuckles and gets back to work. 

By the time Katsuki’s done everything thoroughly — along with the additional cleaning and sweeping and wiping down the windows, the sun is rising. It sits low and heavy and dim in the sky, just lifting above the horizon, painting the sky in pink and orange and light purple hues. 

Katsuki finds himself mesmerized by the beauty of it — all colors mixing like that and the clouds forming puffs of tinted white across the sky. Katsuki stares at it, his tired, heavy eyes fighting to stay open and watch it. He’s sitting at the front desk, head folded in his hands as he watches the sun rise out his window. His view is slightly blocked by the painted black words spelling out HANAKOTOBAon the glass. The backwards words blur as his vision tilts and flickers in and out. 

Fuck, he’s so tired. He can barely keep his fucking eyes open. They’re heavy and his limbs won’t move and his brain is mush and he’s starving. He feels hollow and empty and numb, his stomach opening up into a depthless, endless pit of blackness and his body seems to cave in on itself, skin melting and blood seeping onto the floor until Katsuki is nothing. 

He cannot stay awake anymore. And so, he sleeps, the world fading to black and everything — even his restless mind — going quiet. 

And just as sleep fully takes him into her arms to embrace him, he distantly realizes something. I never finished my apple. And, to prove it, the half-eaten apple sits on the front desk, having a perfect view to watch the sunrise.