Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t subtle—never had been, never would be. But lately, he found himself in a rare predicament: hiding something.

More specifically, hiding how fucking obsessed he was with his boyfriend’s hair.

It had started growing out months ago, sometime after they graduated from U.A. and stepped into the world as full-fledged Pro Heroes. At first, it had just been a little longer at the sides, a little messier at the back. But now? Now it was falling past his boyfriend’s shoulders in soft, uneven layers.

And Katsuki was losing his damn mind over it.

He’d never thought much about hair before. His own was short and spiky, same as ever. But then this guy—his idiot of a boyfriend—had to go and grow his out, and suddenly Katsuki had a new weakness. He wanted to grab it, to tug on it, to run his fingers through it when they were lying in bed together after long patrols. It didn’t help that his boyfriend had the audacity to tie it back sometimes, framing his stupidly handsome face.

It was unfair. Completely unfair.

The worst part? His boyfriend had no idea.

Which was how they ended up here, sitting on the couch in their shared apartment after a long shift, when his boyfriend ran a hand through his own hair with a little too much hesitation.

“…Should I cut it?”

Katsuki’s head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “The hell?”

His boyfriend sighed, tugging at a few strands. “I mean… I like it, but I don’t know if you do. You’ve never really said anything about it.”

Katsuki’s brain short-circuited. Never said anything about it?

He wanted to scream.

Instead, he did something better. He shoved his boyfriend down against the couch cushions, settling over him before he had a chance to react.

“Don’t.” Katsuki’s voice was firm, his hands already threading through those ridiculously soft strands. “If you cut it, I’ll—” He hesitated. “I’ll be pissed.”