In the late hours of his shifts and patrols, he'd always catch the slightest glimpse of his familiar constant sin. Whether in his mind, or whenever you decided to pay him a little visit.

Despite wearing the silver wedding band around his finger with pride, he continues to use that very same hand to travel over the crevices of your body. Smoothing over your skin, the shame forgotten in his moments of pleasure.

Katsuki doesn't mean to hold you.

He doesn't mean to kiss you.

Doesn't mean to take you on his desk in the privacy of his own office located at the top of his agency.

..Fuck that, hell yes he does.

But as he's driving you home after a lengthy moment in his office, he finds himself zoning out on the road. Mindlessly driving with the thoughts of his partner and your stupid face battling against one another.

With a hand on the steering wheel and the car coming to a screeching, abrupt stop at the nearest red light, he swivels his head around to fixate at your adjusted appearance.

“..Oi. D'ya really wanna keep doin' this shit?”