ClockworkQuirk (simplyclockwork)



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    “Katsuki looks nice tonight, doesn’t he?”

    Shouto’s comment is offhand, and they likely mean it in an offhand way. They’re not angling for anything yet—if they wanted it, they’d ask. Eijirou still smiles, and follows Shouto’s line of sight across the lounge to where Katsuki is reclining in a booth, arm outstretched and fingers circling the rim of his glass. The light catches his hair and skin perfectly—makes the cut of his jaw and the glint of his teeth impossible to look away from when he smiles, lazy and crooked.

    “Mhm, he does.”

    Katsuki is smiling at Izuku, of course. When he slides onto the booth and tucks himself against Katsuki’s side, grabs his arm and pulls it over his own shoulders. He’s glowing, wide eyes reflecting, his hair messy. As Eijirou watches, Katsuki raises a hand to comb through it.

    “Izuku too,” Shouto says. Eijirou cracks a smile again. They are both a sight, he’s always thought it too, and Shouto knows. They might be angling for something after all.

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