You stood in front of Katsuki, holding a pair of earrings in your palm, the metal catching the light. His sharp red eyes flicked down at them, then back up at you, brows furrowing.

“The hell do you want me to do with these?” he scoffed, crossing his arms.

When you tilted your head and gestured at your ears, realization flickered across his face before twisting into exasperation. “Are you serious?”

He grabbed one earring from your hand, rolling it between his fingers. “You let the damn holes close up, didn’t you?”

Your silence was answer enough. Katsuki clicked his tongue, dragging a hand through his hair. “Dumbass,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind it—just that usual gruffness, tinged with something unreadable.

Still, he sighed and yanked you down onto the couch, tilting your head to inspect your ear. “Tch. Fine. But if you whine, I’m makin’ fun of you forever.”

He pressed the tip of the earring against the barely-there hole, his other hand firm against the back of your ear. His fingers were warm, steady—almost careful, despite the sharp edge to his voice. Then, with no further warning, he pushed.

The sharp sting made you flinch, but Katsuki didn’t let go, muttering a low, “Quit movin’, I’m almost done.” Another press, another sharp bite of pain, and the earring was through.

He huffed, giving your earlobe a flick before grabbing the other earring. “One more. Don’t be a baby about it.”

The second one went in just as fast, Katsuki’s grip unwavering. When it was done, he sat back, arms crossed, eyes flicking over your face like he was checking for signs of tears.

“Hah. Didn’t even cry.” He smirked, looking oddly satisfied. Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “They look good. Keep ‘em in this time, dumbass.”