Chapter Text
Katsuki’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Ignoring it again, he continued filling out paperwork at his desk. Thankfully, the office was empty. No one saw the wood of the pencil splinter in his hand as he grit his teeth, cursing under his breath.
Forcing a deep exhale, he raced through the rest of the forms. Finally done, one hour and three number two pencils later. Standing up, his back collided with the chair, knocking it onto the floor with a loud clammer. On the ground, the wheels kept spinning, mocking him. Instead of picking it up, he kicked it under his desk.
That would be tomorrow’s problem.
Tonight? Katsuki needed to get the fuck out of this office and pretend the shit show that had been today hadn’t happened.
Dealing with the bumbling police’s improper handling of evidence when Katsuki was supposed to be on his lunch break had been irritating, but that hadn’t even been the worst of it.
No, the day had quickly gotten astronomically worse.
Today’s bullshit award went to some 45-year old drunken idiot who lost control of her quirk during an orgy in the middle of the damn afternoon.
After getting the panicked phone call from the quirk user herself, Katsuki spent the entire trip over scripting a furious lecture, but the words bled out of his brain when he walked in. Nothing could have prepared him for the reality of the situation.
Body odor and the hot stench of sweat kicked Katsuki in the face when he walked into that sex club to investigate. Then, he sneezed.
The first thing he saw wasn’t bare skin en masse, thank god. He was no virgin, but he didn’t know how he would be able to scrub the sight from the recesses of his mind if it had been. There was a little bit of skin, of course, but the first thing he noticed were the feathers.
Baby pink between rich sienna brown shoulder blades. Massive sets of wings burst out of each person’s back. The space was full of them. Brilliant sapphire blues, shining gold, pure snowy white, and every color in between, spilling across the room like lush, fluffy clouds.
With her quirk Halcyon, her gaze could force an individual to grow a set of wings.
Soon after arriving, Katsuki felt a slice running down his spine, like the stinging swipe of a small blade. Then a punch on his thoracic vertebrae before a pair of wings burst from his flesh. He nearly toppled over with the change in weight, gripping a countertop for balance, and then immediately lifting his hand and wincing, picturing the fluid that was probably ingrained.
Between her frantic apologies, Katsuki interrogated the quirk user, demanding answers as he fumed with rage.
When will it wear off? In rare cases, up to one week, but typically more like four days. It had never happened at this large of a scale before, but she didn’t think the number of victims would correlate to the intensity of the quirk.
Are there any lasting side effects? No. Everyone would go back to exactly how they were before with no scars. The feathers would molt like real bird’s wings.
Why do they itch like Satan’s asscrack? She didn’t know, but assured him it was okay to scratch them. She eventually conceded that it was fine to pull them out if he really wanted to, although she couldn’t imagine it would be comfortable as they were extremely sensitive.
Why did this happen in the first place? When she was completely at peace or supremely happy, she sometimes lost control of her quirk.
Supremely disgusting is more like it, Katsuki had thought.
Maybe he could call Tokoyami or Hawks and ask for advice. But what would he even ask? Did you wash them with soap? What position should he sleep in? Even thinking of the questions made him feel stupid. They’d be gone in a few days. He’d been through worse. Katsuki would have to deal.
Leaving the agency’s office, his phone buzzed again. He only picked up because he saw the caller ID.
“What?” he grunted, jiggling the door handle to ensure it’s locked behind him.
“Hi Kacchan! I was wondering if you wanted me to order delivery for dinner or if you planned on cooking something tonight?”
“Order in,” he said, hanging up on his roommate.
Oh, God. His roommate.
His roommate who he would see in half an hour.
His roommate who would instantly notice the enormous green protrusions that have sprouted from his back since he left for work this morning.
His roommate who was so fascinated by quirks, his shelves were full of notebooks going back years.
His roommate who would ask to examine the wings, even if it meant getting up close and personal with Katsuki’s naked skin.
His roommate whose help Katsuki would need to pluck these feathers out as soon as possible.
His roommate whose touch he coveted, craved, and even dreamt of, waking up sticky in the night like he’s still a fucking teenager who can’t get his body under control.
His roommate who he’d been having that unfortunate reaction to for at least a decade.
His roommate who’s beyond oblivious and has no idea how Katsuki feels.
His gorgeous roommate.
His goddamn roommate.
Katsuki was completely fucked.