Distraction - A BakuDeku Story

~ Chapter 3 ~

3. ~ The call ~

.... And all of that history ultimately led to last night.

Katsuki had been pulling this shit for a couple of years. When his fantasies got too much, and his own hands didn't seem to satisfy the urge, he'd find himself itching to jump on his motorcycle and hightail it to Deku's apartment in the middle of the night to show him how much he loved him... how much he needed him.... So instead, he would hit the clubs to get shitfaced and find someone equally as shitfaced to go home with.

Then he'd get a hand job or a blow job, or both, while selfishly doing absolutely fuck all for the other person, and he'd get the fuck outta' dodge as soon as humanly possible. Katsuki also takes his health very fucking seriously, always attending his agencies bi-weekly bloodtests and health screenings. Due to all the open wounds heroes sustain on the job, and his fuck-boy tendencies, it was important he got checked to make sure he'd not contracted anything. No fucking way is he getting some nasty herpes shit. STIs can go eat shit and DIE.

He'd also gotten pretty good at managing fantasy Deku, but ever since that first time he'd allowed him to emerge in his fantasies, he couldn't hold him off anymore and he began to intrude on Katsuki's dreams more and more often. The dreamy fucker kept coming back, and now Katsuki went out looking for a real world release once a month or so.

Kirishima knew, and everytime his publicist had to deal with another paparazzi sighting, or some woman selling a story, Shitty Hair would hear about it and phone him up to check in on him, giving him a lecture like the parent of some delinquent horny teenager.

When Kiri had confronted Katsuki about it the first time a story came out, he'd told him the whole truth, just happy to have one person who knew everything. Fuck, he'd never tell him, but aside from Deku, Shitty Hair was his closest friend.... And a fucking good friend at that. The best actually.

When Katsuki's phone vibrated again as he made his way back to the couch, he checked the caller ID, took a deep breath, and answered.

"So, there's pictures and video of you leaving the club this time bro. Smooth, real smooth Kat!"

Kirishima's voice came loudy through the phone, and Katsuki had to pull it back from his ear slightly.

"Yeah well, fuck em. Fuck her too, l don't even know her fucking name, and I'll never need to." Katsuki said sternly.

"But you didn't though, right?" Kiri asked, concerned.

"What?"

"You didn't fuck her? You promised yourself dude, and I promised I'd always hold you to it."

Damn, he's too good of a friend for a shit like me.

"Nope. My promises are still intact shit-for-brains, and you know I don't fucking lie. Just a sloppy mediocre blow-job. I was outta there in 'bout ten fucking minutes."

"I wanna say I'm proud of you bro, but we both know I'm not," Kiri replied dejectedly.

"And I've decided I don't do kissing now. It's too fucking intimate. Makes them all clingy and shit. I can't be fucking dealing with that honestly."

"Again, wow, well done Kat. Solid work." Kiri said sarcastically, and a little harshly, with a small exasperated laugh at the end that held absolutely no joy.

He must have heard the bite in his own voice as he sighed, and perked up a little.

"I was on patrol this morning, and I bumped into your lover boy by the way...."

Katsuki perked up himself, sitting up straight on the coach. He hadn't seen Deku in a week, as he'd been on a special mission out of the city, and Katsuki had a few days off but on call. Not that they were ever not on call in their line of work. They'd texted a few times, when Deku was able, but he'd not heard from him or that he'd gotten back, which was honestly really out of character.