Chapter Text
Katsuki stood in the rain, wearing a sour expression. He kicked the car’s wheel once out of spite and it let out a pitiful wheeze of air. Then he stomped back into the car, pulled out his phone and typed ”nearest car mechanics” into the search bar.
A minute later he was marching, hands in his pockets, hood over his head and hunched to protect himself from the rain, to the opposite side of the road, where there was a mechanic shop that had been previously concealed by the blanket of rain.
He had snapped his drumstick at band practice today, so he had had to drive to the only music shop in town to get a new one, but had hit a nasty fucking pothole at the crossroads just before Mic’s store. It wasn’t even that he didn’t know it was there, because he drove this road quite regularly, it was that he hadn’t fucking seen anything for the rain. So, in conclusion, he was having a shitty day.
He shook himself a little as he entered the shop. There was, perhaps uncharacteristically for a garage, Edith Piaf signing in the background in dramatic Fr*nch. A tired sounding voice greeted him from under a car to his right: “Hey, welcome to Eraserhead Car Repair, if you have an urgent issue then you’re out of luck.” The employee rolled out from under the car and Katsuki noticed he had purple fucking hair.
”We close in twenty minutes,” the repair guy said monotonously.
Oh for fuck’s sake. ”My car is like, a three minute walk away,” Katsuki said.
”Are you suggesting I walk out there?” the purple-haired dude said, raising his eyebrows. “Like, outside? Isn't it-” he craned his head to peek outside, "-raining right now?"
After Katsuki just shrugged in response, the bastard made his way to the counter and fucked around on the cash machine, ostensibly doing shop-closing activities. He offered a very obvious customer service smile, possibly remembering just now that he was supposed to be polite. It didnt reach his eyes and therefore just made him look a little creepy. He was wearing heavy, a bit messy makeup with a powdery white base and lots of black. His under-eyes were highlighted with a bruised-looking color, which only emphasized his tired demeanor. Actually, now that he thought about it, Katsuki had seen the guy somewhere before. Around Kyouka and Denki and the rest of the band, possibly. He did have quite a distinctive look.
Katsuki wondered how he had landed a customer service job with such an unconventional sense of style. Or how he managed to keep it with his aloof attitude. ”I’m terribly sorry, but like I said, were closing,” the guy — ”Hitoshi” read his tag — said.
”Just— My tire’s blown and I have a spare but no jack,” Katsuki said tightly. He would have to walk home in the rain if he couldn’t get his tire fixed. He would go to the hardware store first thing tomorrow and get a jack because this was idiotic.
Hitoshi squinted at him. ”What kind of an idiot has a spare but no jack?” Katsuki could only just hear him mutter under his breath.
Katsuki quenched the urge to drop-kick him in the face and instead mentally counted from ten to one.
”I’ll pay extra, how about that,” Katsuki said, trying to keep the violence from his voice because he was trying to appear sociable and like someone who the guy would want to help.
"Bribery, huh?" Hitoshi tilted his head and considered the offer, or rather he was considering Katsuki, which made him squirm a little. He seemed to be taking in Katsuki’s wet hair and smudgy eyeliner, eyebrow rings, studded shoes and otherwise black outfit. His eyes were still squinting, it looked like the bright lights of the service desk area were bothering him.
But after a while of Hitoshi still just looking all considering, Katsuki, idiotically, felt compelled to say: ”I have cake.”
Hitoshi, pulled from his evil-looking consideration, smiled at that, this time genuinely, and his eyes opened the whole way for the first time. “Cake, huh?”
Katsuki flushed red (in annoyance, mind you) at that, because what the fuck was he saying? Alas, it was too late to stop, so he had no choice but to double down. “Yeah, strawberry short,” he muttered, avoiding Hitoshi’s eyes. “You could have some, if you come help me.” Katsuki glanced at Hitoshi, as saw his own surprise mirrored in the other’s expression.
”Well,” Hitoshi said, processed a bit, and shut the cash machine with a click. ”I can’t refuse such a sweet offer. Hold on, let me get my things,” he said, his tone indicating that his day had just become a whole lot more interesting.
Katsuki was left a bit confused about what had just happened as the hot — wait, hot? — repair guy vanished into the garage to fetch his stuff, despite he himself suggesting it.
Then Hitoshi reappeared with a beat up duffel bag and a raincoat, looking more animated than before. Katsuki supposed it was the promise of cake. Hitoshi flipped the sign on the door to closed as they left. They both pulled up their hoods, but the rain had already simmered down into a dribble.
“Ah, it seems I’m accepting sweets from strangers and following them to their cars. Aizawa would be horrified,” Hitoshi said to himself, to anyone, wearing an expression that told exactly how concerned he was. Katsuki guessed the Aizawa in question was a parental figure.
“I could be a serial killer for all you know,” Katsuki grumbled.
Hitoshi looked at him and smiled creepily again. “If one of us is a serial killer, it’s me.”
"HA!" Katsuki guffawed. "You do kind of look like it."
Hitoshi laughed loudly. Maybe the late hour was catching up to Katsuki, or maybe he was in fact a little bit attracted to the guy, but he found his own lip twitching upwards too. Why was the death threat lowkey doing it for him, he could only wonder. Or maybe it was just someone not getting offended by him offending them.
“Ack, nah, I’m entirely uninterested in killing you,” Hitoshi said, and then: “That’s no fun.” And he honest-to-god winked.
Katsuki paused and was left a couple of steps behind. That was flirting, right? Hitoshi was flirting with him. Was this mutual? The possibility shifted Katsuki’s world on it’s axis and made the night air seem acutely crisper on his skin. There were approximately no gay people in their small little rural village ass town (except the band, who were all gay). But maybe, just maybe, Katsuki had found another? (unsurprisingly, also affiliated with the band) Was that why the other man had agreed to come?
And now the guy was just walking on like this was a normal Tuesday. It wasn’t. It was a Monday. What do you even say when a hot goth car mechanic flirts with you? Quick, act confident.
“Bitch, I could take you any day,” he said with not entirely false bravado and jogged a little to catch up with Hitoshi. He did genuinely think that he could win Hitoshi in a fight if it came down to it. His vibe was somewhat nonconfrontational, which meant he wouldn’t have gotten into multiple fights over stupid shit in his teenager years. Unlike Katsuki.
Shinsou just threw Katsuki a glance. Then he looked back ahead and smiled. That, for some reason made Katsuki’s blood boil unreasonably much.
“Oi, you seriously think your weak vampire ass could kill me?” Katsuki snapped.
Hitoshi threw him another look, this time assessing.
“You look strong, I’ll give you that,” he mused. His eyes blatantly cheking Katsuki up and down made Katsuki fluster even worse. His heart stuttered. Yeah, this was definitely flirting. Why did it feel like he was losing at it? Hitoshi had just complimented him, right?
He failed to come up with a coherent response, so he just shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets and sulked, head turned away.
Hitoshi seemed to enjoy his silence immensely, Katsuki could feel it in his gaze. The fucker was gloating in his victory. They walked the rest of the short distance to Katsuki’s car. Katsuki pointed out the punctured tire. It had almost stopped raining.
Hitoshi worked concentratedly at the tire, propping the car on the jack.
Katsuki looked. Hitoshi somehow made changing a tire into something that felt illegal to witness. The way his surprisingly strong hands efficiently loosened the nuts, pumped the jack (wow, there were so many dirty puns that Katsuki could cook up) and lifted the tire off. Katsuki felt less confident in his ability to beat the other in a fight. His biceps looked kinda big, even visible through the mechanic’s overalls.
It did make Katsuki slightly irritated that Hitoshi was obviously better than him at changing a tire. But even Katsuki realized that was nonsensical.
On the upside, Hitoshi being focused on his job enabled Katsuki to gather his wits about him and also ogle a little.
Despite staring at the guy the whole time, Katsuki was startled when the other spoke: “Can you help me a bit? There’s a wheel stud cleaner in the bag, these are kind of nasty. It’s uhh– It should be in the second largest pocket, a funny little cylindrical thing. Thanks.”
Ha, the other did want his help after all. Katsuki fetched the tool, feeling weirdly giddy about it.
Hitoshi fixed the car. After he was done, he wiped his hands on a rag from one of his pockets and got up, grinning at Katsuki.
“Now gimme my sweets.”
They leaned against the trunk of the car. It had stopped raining entirely, but it was getting darker outside. Katsuki had digged up the cake from the back, and even found paper plates in one of the compartments. They had no spoons, but luckily the cake was pre-cut and sort of stayed intact, so they just ate with their hands. Hitoshi's were still kind of oily but he didn't seem to care. Oil was an organic compound anyway.
“Why do you have cake in your car?” Hitoshi asked.
“Other than to lure strangers into my torture chamber in my cellar, you mean?” Katsuki smiled, letting all his crazy shine through his eyes.
“Ha. What if I’m into that?” Hitoshi laughed with equally crazy eyes.
Katsuki had a sudden coughing fit. He had nothing witty to say to that, so he had no choice but to confess: “It’s actually my birthday cake. My bandmates baked it.”
Hitoshi looked at him in surprise. “That’s… so cute,” he said incredulously.
“It’s really not, they’re just a bunch of sentimental fuckwits.”
Hitoshi glanced at his face, smiling. “You say that like you actually like them.”
Katsuki frowned. “No I don’t.” Hitoshi’s smile widened.
“So, you’re in a band? Whaddya play?” Hitoshi asked cheerfully. Cheerful was a good expression on him, Katsuki noted.
“Drums.” Katsuki gave the short answer. He was still caught up in the notion that he somehow appeared to like his band idiots based on that statement. The fuck?
Hitoshi hummed appreciatively. “That’s hot.”
Katsuki’s head snapped to stare at Hitoshi. What?
“What?” Katsuki said, intelligently.
“I think you heard me,” Hitoshi said, wolfing down the rest of his cake and putting his plate aside. “Can I blow you?” he asked, looking at Katsuki with small town hopeful eyes. Katsuki felt his belly swoop.
Katsuki was rendered speechless for a second. Then, why the fuck not?
“Yeah,” Katsuki said. He also put his plate away.
Hitoshi just smiled, and the next moment Katsuki could feel the other’s upturned lips on his own. Katsuki couldn’t help but also smile, and kissing soon became hard because they were both just smiling and laughing like teenagers. Then Hitoshi brought his hand to Katsuki’s nape and Katsuki’s laugh morphed into a sharp intake of breath. The kiss turned into anything but innocent and Katsuki had to stop himself from making too much sounds. The hand on his hair tightened.
“Your car is so fucking ugly,” Hitoshi murmured when they broke apart, leaving Katsuki equal parts offended and wanting nothing more than those lips on his again. Hitoshi jumped off said car and slotted himself between Katsuki’s legs, bringing his hands on Katsuki’s hips. Hitoshi was a bit taller, Katsuki begrudgingly noticed.
“No it’s fucking not,” Katsuki said, but it came out much breathier than he had intended with not much force behind it, because the other kissed his neck at the same time he said it. Katsuki couldn’t help the way his whole body leaned forward.
Katsuki was fisting the front of Hitoshi’s greasy overalls, and partly to hide his embarrassment he pulled Hitoshi into his body until they were pressed flush. Hitoshi came easily, grinning and then he was leaving stains from his black lipstick all over Katsuki’s face and neck.
Hitoshi started to kiss his neck, sucking and most definitely leaving more marks than just from his lipstick now, and Katsuki was entirely taken by surprise at the speed at which his legs started to give out on him. He brought his hands to Hitoshi’s shoulders to stay standing and had to fight not to gasp and moan.
“Come on, let me hear you. I know you’d make such sweet sounds,” Hitoshi murmured against his neck, looking at him from slightly below, and Katsuki swallowed audibly as their eyes met. Hitoshi’s pupils were dilated so that they almost looked black. Hitoshi lifted his head, making use of the inch or so he had over Katsuki and holding his gaze. Giving Katsuki time to opt out, he snuck his hand under Katsuki’s shirt and pinched his left nipple, and Katsuki couldn’t help the noise that escaped his mouth then, because his skin was singing everywhere they were touching and he just wanted more.
He fell forward again, into the warm body against him, and deepened the kiss by pulling him even closer. “Fuck, Hitoshi, come on,” Katsuki broke the kiss.
Hitoshi, thankfully, didn’t make him wait, just kissed him one final time and dropped to his knees. "You want it?" Hitoshi asked, hands on the belt of Katsuki's slacks.
Katsuki took in his kinda messed-up makeup, from all the kissing and the rain, his blown pupils and hungry expression, and couldn’t even imagine saying no.
“Yes, holy shit,” Katsuki said and buried his hands in Hitoshi’s stupid fluffy purple hair, leaning against the car and turned on out of his mind. He wanted to bite something.
Hitoshi struggled with his belt a little because it was studded and chunky, but managed to get it off and Katsuki’s dick out, looking as impatient as Katsuki felt. Hitoshi retrieved a condom from one of his many pockets, ripped open the package with his hands like a normal person and rolled it on. Katsuki felt a zip of electricity run up his spine and groaned from the touch. It felt so good to have Hitoshi's hands on him.
“You just casually carry strawberry flavoured condoms around your workplace?” Katsuki asked incredulously when he takes a second look at the package.
“Nah, I picked this up as I was collecting the tools,” Hitoshi said like they were talking about his keys, spitting on his hand and pumping Katsuki's dick a couple of times. “Seemed fitting.”
Katsuki gripped his hair even tighter, making the other's face contort in pleasure. “You’re really confident in your wooing skills, huh," he huffed.
“Worked on you, didn’t it?” Hitoshi said cheekily before he got his mouth on Katsuki.