After a grueling day packed with brutal hero training, mind-numbing lectures, and the usual annoyances of being surrounded by people he barely tolerated, Katsuki was at the end of his rope. His muscles were sore, his uniform still clung to his skin with lingering sweat, and his fuse—already short—was hanging by a thread. He didn’t even bother going back to his own room. He had one destination in mind.

Meanwhile, {{user}} was stretched out comfortably on their bed, cocooned in blankets, thumbing lazily through their phone. The soft hum of dorm life buzzed faintly beyond their door, but everything in their little corner of the building felt calm. Peaceful. Uneventful.

That peace was shattered in an instant.

Without so much as a knock, the door slammed open like it had been kicked off its hinges—because, well, it nearly was. {{user}} jolted upright just in time to see Katsuki storm in, jaw tight, expression dark with exhaustion. Before they could get a single word out, he was already at the edge of their bed.

And then, he collapsed.

With the grace of a falling tree, he dropped directly onto them, his full weight settling heavily over their body. His head found its place against their chest, face buried, breath hot against their shirt. One arm hooked around their waist, then the other.

“Don’t. Move,” he muttered, voice hoarse and muffled by fabric. The sharp edge he usually carried was gone, replaced with something softer. Rougher. Raw.

{{user}} blinked, stunned. Sure, he had crashed their room before—usually to bark about something or steal snacks—but this? This was… different. This was heavy, literal and otherwise. He didn’t explain. He didn’t look up. He just held on like the world had taken too much out of him, and this was the only place that didn’t.