Chapter Text
Katsuki's last day at the office before the weekend had been ridiculously eventful.
Mentally, he was fried. His brain hurt in the complete absence of downtime, the stack of unedited and unsubmitted reports creating an endless pile of wasted trees on his work desk. He'd gotten through most of them without complaint, but naturally the completely blank ones ended up at the very bottom. He spent the afternoon berating his assistant about it, despite her compliance, and spent two hours after close trying to file everything correctly. It's his agency of course, but the reports went up the corporal ladder and he couldn't risk scrutiny from any of those assholes either. He wasn't the kind of hero to make everyone else do his own paperwork, despite the common practice in Japan's workforce.
The evening was miserable too, and he cursed drinking culture for mandating these kinds of gatherings in the first place. Every Friday night the pros in the area would go out to a local bar. Usually it was always the same place downtown Shibuya, but lucky for him they had chosen a place closer to his flat in Roppongi Hills tonight.
So here he was, after a ten hour day, sitting at a bar with a full glass of beer and an empty social battery. Nobody really cared about him being there, but insisted he come anyways since it was someone's birthday, though he couldn't remember who's.
“You're seriously asking the guy with ten pound wings if his back hurts?” Mirko toys, like it was a silly question to have asked in the first place. Of course his back would hurt, that much was common sense even to Katsuki. In fact, many pro heros had to go through physical therapy because of injuries and overworked muscles.
He's dazed out about the topic when the group erupts in laughter, causing him to turn and address the noise.
“Considering how quirks and the kind of body the person has go hand in hand, it's a valid question! One would assume his body could outlast his given quirk…if he has it by natural causes of course.” Mirio responds, his attitude annoyingly bright.
“No question is a stupid question kid, I promise.” Hawks replies to a clueless Kaminari. “Yeah, my back hurts sometimes, but it's usually after a really long flight. I can withstand the weight no problem, but using them is just like using your arms. If you work out for eight hours straight they're gonna feel like jello.”
“Wow…” Kaminari nods, eyes sparkling like he's just learned the secret to life. But that's how he always looks…might be the electricity getting to his head.
“So, do you use ice packs on em or something?” Sero asks next, adding to the curiosity.
“Nah, I usually leave the de-stressing to my masseuse.”
“Your…what?”
“A masseuse is a professional massager, but they are usually referred to as massage therapists.” Mirio recites like he's a damn dictionary. The group is chuckling again at the topic, though Katsuki is acting uninterested on purpose despite it catching his ears too.
“So do they specifically cater to people with wings or something?” Another person in the group asks.
“Nono, even people who are quirkless go to them. It can help with all sorts of things, kinda like a chiropractor but…more gentle and less cracking…usually.” Hawks explains.
“Hey, maybe you'd benefit from that kinda thing Kats!” Kirishima pipes up annoyingly, adding him into the conversation non consensually.
“Like hell I would.” He grumbles in response, keeping his body slouched and brows furrowed.
“Ya gotta bad back too Dynamight?” Hawks asks.
“No.” He replies plainly.
“That's definitely a lie, you were just talking about muscle soreness with Sero the other day.” Kaminari is looking at him with a god awful gawdy smirk and it's making his anger spike.
“Yeah, his muscle soreness, not mine.” He bites back at the other pro.
“Where is this place anyways?” Eijirou asks, almost like he recognizes the way Katsuki is becoming more than uncomfortable with the subject. He even mouthed a ‘sorry’ when everyone's attention was turned back to the winged hero.
“It's called Hurt and Comfort, down on Nobara here in Roppongi actually. I’m headed there after this.” Hawks adds, one of his big red wings picking up and pointing in the same direction as his hand, north.
“Ohh I think I've walked past that place a few times while on patrol!” Eijirou nods as he listens.
“Best one in town, if I could give it a rating. Cute green haired guy there that does a great job.” As a single pro, the man was constantly flirting with the locals. Katsuki's nose twitched as he thought about the comment. Hawks was one of the few men who'd been open about their sexuality, especially in a field such as their own. Once it's out? It's out.
“Oooo what's his name?” Kaminari asks slyly.
“Deku.”
The group giggles, almost like gossiping middle schoolers, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. What kind of parents would name their kid Deku of all things?
Still, it lingers on his tongue longer than the shitty Kirin that night.
✦
Katsuki woke up around eight in the morning the next day. His limbs were believably sore, and his shoulders felt stiff as hell. It wasn’t unusual, and given the week he just had it was looking like another weekend in bed. It’s not that he actually wanted to go out every day, especially on his days off which were few and far between. This was his first Saturday off in over five weeks. Hell yeah he was going to stay in bed as much as possible.
He spent the morning limping around lazily, making a decent sized breakfast and starting the laundry. Mundane things in comparison to his busy and sporadic life.
Unfortunately, these activities were also short lived. By about noon he was getting a phone call from work, and he was suiting up and heading into the agency to help. He brought his lunch with him, not that he'd have any time to eat anyways. When he had first started out his career as a pro hero things were different. He was excited, felt young and fresh and ready to swing into action any time of day.
Now?
General malaise.
He was always tired, always sleeping too much, and never actually recovering from all the work during the day. Things were too busy at his agency and he was only one person in a sea of villains and paperwork. Of course his assistant and Kirishima would help sometimes too. Ei had his own agency, and they teamed up often, but even then he could see the spark in his high school best friend more than he ever saw in himself.
He had arrested two villains by about three in the afternoon that day. A car thief with an electric type quirk and a punk kid stealing jewelry from a local apothecary. Petty crime was rarely a challenge for him, but he creaked and groaned each step of the way.
“Hey Dynamight, thanks for all your help today.” Pro hero Mount Lady calls with a wave. “Go ahead and call it a night!”
He doesn’t argue with her, watching and wondering how she still keeps a positive attitude despite repeating the same crap on the daily.
His walk home is slower than usual, and he sighs every few minutes, a tired and weak groan as he trudges forwards lazily.
Eijirou would tell him it’s a lack of human connection, while Kaminari might tell him to go get laid. Two sides of the same damn coin, and they all knew it. They worried about him, and his loneliness, but they didn’t even know what it was like. Both of them had plenty of partners, plenty of nights out socializing and making friends and having a good time.
His nights were strictly spent solo, often work filled and sleep deprived.
What was he supposed to do? Text a friend to go out and have drinks? They do that basically every night after work anyways.
He’s on the sidewalk, passing by restaurants and bars and small businesses when he remembers the massage parlor that Keigo talked about. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was still curious about the prospect. He knew of massage parlors and places that offered similar services, but he had never gotten to the point of needing one. The younger pro heros were always much more resilient and given a good ten years till they started to wear down.
He was maybe starting his third year now, and his bones fucking ached. Talk about an unforgiving profession…
Just for fun, he typed in the name of the shop. Checking around and doing some minor research couldn't hurt. He had the free time and nothing going on to disrupt a bit of curiosity.
Just for fun, he loads up the directions on his phone when he actually finds the place. Hurt and Comfort, a family owned business, was located just a few blocks from his current location. It had a four star rating and plenty of good reviews for something so small.
So naturally, just for fun, he makes a sharp left and down a back alleyway that emerges out into another large road. A few roads up and it was close enough that he could see it from where he stood, a large white sign with green leaves decorating the area around it. The business itself appeared to only be the first level, as an apartment complex or office space sat above it ten stories high. That was the usual for businesses off the main shopping center, some kind of consolidation effort for a city that was growing overpopulated.
Katsuki walks up to the building cautiously, looking at all the fliers and posters in the windows, prices and combos and deals taped to each one. He looked around him at the people walking by, like it was some secret spy mission before taking a closer look. It wasn't embarrassing to be out and about as a pro, but depending on the location, if someone recognized him it could be catastrophic.
If he’s being honest, the shop itself looked kind of run down to be regarded as mainstream. The windows were tinted so you couldn’t see inside, and something about the place just made Katsuki’s nose twitch.
So, why was he there?
He turns, about to step away when he hears boots coming towards the door and it swings open violently. An elderly woman is exiting the entrance, followed by another younger and much taller woman waving goodbye to her. He sits and waits off to the side, observing before the woman looks in his direction. She's got dark brown hair, brown eyes, and is completely covered in pink.
“Oh! My apologies for blocking your way sir, here, come inside.”
She holds the door open for him and well fuck, now he really couldn’t say no could he?
He walks inside and is instantly hit with the smell of floral and honey. There’s a small waterfall at the desk and he can hear what sounds like wind chimes.
“Do you have an appointment?” She asks him as she makes her way back to the desk.
“Uh, no I just…wanted to stop by.”
“Oh not a problem! Go ahead and sign in, I’ll set you up with our on-calls.”
“No, I mean, I just-“ he starts, but can’t even finish his sentence before the woman disappears completely behind a row of beads, into a back room of sorts.
He sighs, slouching and wasting time by looking around the waiting room. At least it’s not as shady on the inside as it looks on the outside. It’s got a few chairs and a table with various magazines about beauty products and…something that looks oddly like the Vogue magazine he’d covered in. He steps over to the table, pushing aside the top issue and trying to peer at the subject of the other. He jumps when she appears out of nowhere to greet him the opposite direction she had come.
“Right this way!” She calls.
No forms, no identification, no nothing, and he’s being hustled into a room at the end of a long hall.
“Just wait here and someone will be with you momentarily okay?”
He nods, and she practically slams the door shut before he can even open his mouth again.
“What the hell.” He grumbles, turning to look at the room he'd just been locked into
To his surprise though, it looks like a regular ass room. The walls are painted black and it smells like vanilla. It’s got another mini waterfall looking device on a table by two chairs and the whole room is dimmed, a few accent lights along the wall. He checks his phone, no new messages or emails to attend to so he just simply shoves it away.
Then the door opens again, and his head whips around.
In walks a man slightly shorter than himself with the darkest shade of green hair he thinks he’s ever seen. His eyes were a deep emerald shade, his expression bright and slips curved up into a soft smile. He was dressed in what looked like a robe of sorts.
“Good evening! My name is Deku, I'll be your therapist to-.”
He's already cringing at the sounds of it, unprepared for the general embarrassment that came with talking to a person who massages people for a living, of all things. But when the voice stops abruptly, he turns, giving an eye to the employee again.
He wasn't prepared for the awe stricken gaze that met his own, nor the clatter of the clipboard when it drops somehow farther than Deku's jaw had.
“Oh my god.” He squeaks, and it's almost scares Katsuki the way he’s stunned in place.
For a second he forgets who he was.
oh.
“What, never seen a pro in person before, nerd?”
His jaw snaps shut, and Katsuki’s eyebrows arch in question.
“S-Sorry, I'm sorry.” The green haired man stutters as he kneels down to pick up his pad of paper. “I'm just…surprised! That's..that's all.”
He stands back up, brushing at his robe styled outfit and walks forward.
“I just..um, have a consent form for you to sign h-here.” Deku shakily hands him a piece of paper on a clipboard, one of those shitty black pens attached to it.
“Mind if I ask…how um, how did you hear of us?”
“A friend.” He says plainly as he signs the form without reading it.
“Well I'm very glad to hear it! Small businesses like us don't often get attention from, you know, pro heros.”
Katsuki is listening, but he doesn't really know what to say so he just nods. He hands the clipboard back to Deku, who is smiling pleasantly as he goes through it.
“Alright, we can get started now if you're ready?”
“I'm uh, not really sure how this works.” Katsuki admits, and Deku’s smile grows as he shakes his head. At least his therapist isn't sly and judgmental of him, so he feels comfortable to say that much.
“Oh that's no problem! If you'll start by laying face down on the table here I can feel out your problem spots. Then I'll have you remove as much of your clothing as you feel comfortable with. I can work around anything you'd like to keep on.”
He could tell it was a pre-programmed speech, because he only had on about three articles of clothing, two of which that would restrict the massage pretty intensely. He gets up from his seat and casually moves over to the table. It's padded, thankfully, and it looks almost like a chair you'd see in a tattoo shop or doctor's office. He lays down face first, arms tensing to lower his body carefully into the cushions.
He hears the therapist moving around, opening a drawer of some sort behind him, but he doesn't speak.
“So, where do you hurt most? We can begin by relaxing those muscles and relieving the tension.” Deku’s attitude is somewhat more relaxed now as he speaks, less nerd-like and more professional.
“Uh..” He starts, rolling his shoulders and rotating his hips to try and replicate the soreness as he reaffirms the pain shooting down his shoulders and into his spine. But hell if he couldn't handle a few aches. Those were just normal for everybody.“I think I’m fine actually.”
“It’s okay if you feel good right now, and worse other times.” Deku replies, his tone changing into something like a professor would be as he starts to explain. “Some patients come in with minimal pain, while others start with a more intensive plan that'll help for long term recovery after accidents and sports related injuries.”
He shifts slightly as he feels hands on his back, unannounced. They start to prod at the top of his back and edges of his shoulders, moving very slowly, but firmly palming into them. He holds his breath as to not groan out loud by the feeling of soreness that crescendos through each muscle as Deku moves.
“Does this hurt?” He asks, pressing firmly into the middle of his back on both sides of his spine.
“Not really.” Katsuki grits out through a closed mouth snarl, lying, obviously.
“And this?” He moves up a bit more and presses down in the same way, rolling his fingers and causing Katsuki to clench at the feeling of discomfort again.
“Nope.” He answers precisely this time, but he can't help but let out the strain in his voice.
“Are you sure? Your whole back is as tense as a rock.” Deku says, continuing to feel down his back, poking and prodding.
“How are your legs?”
“They're fine.” Katsuki retorts with more attitude this time.
He hears a soft hum from Deku, and then more fingers on his calves, followed by a sudden roll of his palm. He hisses, flinching at the jolt of pain that runs up his groin.
“That doesn't sound fine.” Deku admits, his tone light, but Katsuki could tell he was taking this very seriously.
“Ugh, fine, yes everywhere hurts, whatever!” Katsuki growls, annoyed.
Deku huffs, like a soft chuckle before moving again with a more gentle push.
“You're really tense here too.” The massage therapist observes and Katsuki exhales as the feeling of being touched starts to normalize and it's not as intense. He's not familiar with other people's hands on him, and it's the one thing he's managed to avoid his whole career, save for a few carry and rescue missions with elderly folk who couldn't walk…and maybe the occasional hug from his parents.
“Yeah…'s what happens when you work overtime in the hero industry.” He grunts at another particularly hard squeeze of his lower thigh.
“I can believe it.” Deku replies. “A lot of people rely on you, and I understand it's a profession that is unforgiving in most cases. Do you work overtime every week?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I guess that’s valid…in a recent survey, the workforce stated that over 71% of Japan works overtime. That’s at least 22 hours extra or so. Pro heros are a big part of that, and I heard the commission was attempting to eliminate that by hiring more…not that it would change much.”
From the sounds of it, his massage therapist may know a thing or two about the pro hero industry. He wants to ask, but Deku is speaking again before he can.
“Alright, well, you weren't lying that time, when you said everywhere. Every muscle I can reach is tense. We'll start with your back and move on to your legs within the hour.” Deku's hands leave his body, and he can hear the man walking away again, so he turns his head.
“I'll give you a couple minutes. After you undress, you can lay face down on the table. I'll be back shortly!” Deku says as he's picking himself back up to sit on the table.
“What um…” Katsuki starts, trying to snag him before he leaves. Deku looks back at him expectantly, bright and professionally as he stands straight and clasps his hands in front of him in waiting. “What do I take off?”
“Oh! Anything you are comfortable with. Most people leave their undergarments on, as it still provides them a bit of privacy. But it's up to you completely.”
He nods, and Deku leaves with a small bow as the door closes. He takes off his shirt and pants, but leaves his boxer briefs on. It made sense, and since he was wearing flexible ones it would be easy to work around. It's not like Deku would be touching him there of all places.
He's already laid face first again into the chair when Deku comes back in.
“Are you ready for me to start?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay! Since it's your first time, I'll go slow. Since you're so tight, you may feel a little pain at first, but if it becomes unbearable please let me know.” He explains.
“I'm a pro hero, not a wimp.” Katsuki grumbles, and Deku huffs a small laugh. He realizes very quickly how drawn he is to the noise, because it's fucking cute as hell. Not that his mind was there, of all places, but this was the exact person that Hawks had been gossiping about.
“That's true, but we all still feel pain. It’s a normal human response to discomfort…well, unless you have channelopathy.”
“I'll be fine.” He reassures.
“Okay. Just take some deep breaths and relax.” Deku instructs.
“I'm relaxed!” Katsuki insists, tone gravely as his voice raises. “Just get on with-”
He yelps sharply as there's a rough push to his back, warm wet hands digging into his shoulder blades.
“What the hell!” He growls when the feeling lets up again.
“I told you it would hurt!” Deku says panicked.
“Hurt, not feel like you're splitting my damn back open!”
“Should I go softer?”
“No, It’s fuckin fine.”
“If you're sure.” The masseur responds wearily.
“Just shut up and keep going.”
He groans at another particularly heavy push, but he grips the bottom of the padded table and grits his teeth. Whoever said this was relaxing was a fucking liar.
“You need to stop tensing up, Dynamight.”
His hero name causes his ears to perk up suddenly. Of course he signed the form as Dynamight, so that's all Deku would really know, but it sounded so normal on his lips, like he'd said it a million times before. The commission was generally open to hero’s signing without their full name, as it protects their identity while at home, with their families and what not.
“Like hell I can relax when you're trying to put me in the ground.” He growls, and there's another laugh. It's irritating, his suffering being comical to another person, but for some reason it’s not irritating enough.
“I promise it'll feel better if you just take a few deep breaths, okay?”
He grumbles a little bit but does as he's told, fairly short breaths inhaled and long exhales accompany them. Deku presses his palm into the underside of his shoulder and he spasms again, claws digging into the chair some more.
“Easy, easy…” He cooes, and it's so soft and kind the way he says it, encouraging Katsuki to relax. And it fucking works. “Deep breaths…just like that.”
Katsuki feels a heat pool inside him, the words rolling off his tongue quietly and alluring as if they were meant for a completely different kind of…activity. He’d take bets that Deku was probably a dirty talker in bed.
Where the hell was his mind?
But before he knows it, his hands are completely lax, dangling off the sides of the table. He's focused in on the way Deku's hands glide across his skin. The massage is a little bit more rough than what he imagined, but it's still hypnotizing as the massage therapist moves, rolling and pushing at his sore muscles. His eyes are halfway closed when Deku speaks again.
“How is this?”
“Better.” Katsuki mutters, not giving away his contentment.
“You're doing great.” Deku encourages.
“I know.” Katsuki says in a snarky tone, though the therapist doesn't respond.
By the end of the thirty minute session, he's basically drooling. The slow rolls of his calves and thighs is one of the most relaxing things he's ever experienced. His back was a less than pleasant experience unfortunately, but this made up for it for sure. He gives Katsuki a small pat on the upper thigh.
“I’m all done, you can sit up now.”
It takes him a year to do so, his body heavy and limp. But to his surprise, he can sit up straight without so much as a peep. Deku smiles at him as he sits with his legs off the edge of the chair.
“How are your hands?”
“My hands?”
“Well, yes, because of your quirk I assumed your arms and hands get sore too.”
“Guess I never notice if they are.”
“Do you want me to try rubbing them?” It's a funny offer, but he's curious as to what that means.
“Dunno, is it free?” He asks, and he hears Deku huff.
“It'll be included in your full massage cost, don't worry Dynamight, sir. I won't make you go broke.”
He scoffs, like it was even in the question. He had money to burn at this point.
Deku moves back towards him, and he’s suddenly remembering how nude he was. Being in his boxers doesn't really change much since he'd basically been feeling around his ass the whole night anyways though. Anyone would be a liar for not checking out a pro with such easy access. He'd never deny his attractiveness, and with the way Deku had reacted to him at first, he wouldn't be surprised if the kid popped a boner from getting to feel him up too.
“Here, hold out both your hands so that your arms are lying on your thighs.”
He follows directions without complaint this time.
Deku is close enough to him now that he could smell the cologne radiating off of him, a mix between spices and sweets. He watches the way the massage therapist lifts his hand and feels the area out, as if there are specific muscles he could tell were tense or not. Then he moves up, pressing firmly into his arm and making his fingers clench reflexively.
But once Deku starts to move down the arm, he melts again. The sensation is alleviating as much as it is relaxing. He closes his eyes, continuing to breathe as he'd been instructed to. He ignores the fact that he was following the recommendations of someone he’d just met, someone obviously younger.
And when he opens his eyes?
He's met with the softest looking skin he’s ever seen, slightly tanned and definitely kept moisturized. Deku's whole face is naturally flawless, not like the people on social media whose faces are caked in makeup, but like…real. His neck follows suit, and he can briefly see collarbones peeking out from the robed attire. It captivated him for some reason, the feeling of pressure in his palms relaxing him enough to let his guard down for once. So he just…looks.
Usually he didn't stare at people…didn't have time or interest in staring at people. But now? With, dare he say a very handsome masseur in front of him, and touching him?
Something stirred low in his stomach again, but he quickly snaps his brain out of it in an attempt to contain his dignity.
Then the feeling slows, and his eyes trace back up Deku's neck and cheeks to his eyes.
Eyes staring right back into his own.
And holy hell green.
If he thought the hair wasn’t enough, his eyes were damn emeralds.
The sudden intensity of their gaze causes him to startle slightly, but Deku is still just as soft and gentle with him, a polite smile gracing his cheeks as he looks back down to switch arms.
Katsuki blinks a few times.
“How does this feel?” He asks.
“Good.” Katsuki responds quickly, realizing the reaction was much too adverse to his normal attitude and corrects it to a “fine.”
He can briefly make out a faint smirk on Deku's lips.
“You're not like I thought you'd be, in person.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I just mean that you're genuine! Most people have a different personality when they're not on a stage, you know?”
“I'm not some two faced loser.” He scoffs.
“I know you’re not. That's what I admire about you.” Deku admits easily, but then realizes the confession and corrects himself.
“I-I just mean, because I see you on tv and stuff! Since you're a pro hero it's kind of hard not to know who you are and-”
“S fine, jeez. I'd ask you what rock you lived under if you didn't recognize me.”
Deku laughs at the comment, admitting, “I'm a bit of a hero junkie, I guess.”
“Figured.” Katsuki pins, as if he had known the second Deku walked into the room. He gets a small quivering smile from the green haired boy at the comment and…did he have that much color in his cheeks a few minutes ago? Katsuki realizes just how easy it would be to make fun of this kid, to embarrass the fuck out of him.
They don't talk very much after this until the very end of his session.
“I think we’re all set! How are you feeling Dynamight?”
“Good…fine, thanks.” He corrects.
“Great! If you go up to the front, Ochako will get you checked out. Feel free to book again anytime you start to feel a bit rough!” He waves Katsuki out, and it's mere seconds before the door is closing on him again and he's back in the hallway.
What was with these people and closing doors so aggressively?
“All set already?” The front desk, Ochako, asks cheerily as he walks up. “Wow, that was a quickie.”
“Uh…yeah.” He says plainly, his face slightly heated for no goddamn reason.
“Your total comes out to ten thousand yen.” She rattles off on an old fashioned register.
Not bad for a first time appointment, he figures.
“Oh, would you like to set up an appointment for next time?”
“What's the next available?” He asks without much thought.
“That would be Monday evening I think…would you like to see someone else then?”
“No, no Deku is fine.”
“Perfect!” She squeals. “And between you and me, he'll be ecstatic to hear it. See you then!”
With a wink and a shove, he's pushed out of the massage parlor with less paper in his wallet and surprisingly light shoulders.
Oh, and he sleeps like a rock that night.