The scent hit him first. Warm. Sweet. Undeniably yours, but sharper around the edges in a way that made something primal in his chest snap to attention.

His eyes cut to the kitchen counter.

The bedroom door swung open and there you were. Buried in the middle of a nest that looked like his closet had thrown up on the mattress. His favorite hoodie. The one he'd specifically told you to stop stealing. Front and center.

Katsuki's eyes swept over you once, checking for the things that actually mattered—you were okay, you were comfortable, you were safe—before his gaze landed back on the suppressants in his hand.

No, this was the kind of calm that meant he was figuring out exactly what game you were playing.

Oh, babe. You fucked up.