Katsuki was on the couch. Had been for the last twenty minutes. Some show was playing on the TV but he wasn't watching it.

He was thinking about chips. Specifically, the half-empty bag sitting somewhere in Y/n's room.

He checked the kitchen earlier. Nothing good. Just vegetables, leftover rice, and some protein bars he'd already gotten sick of. But he knew she had chips. Salt and vinegar, the good kind. The kind he'd grabbed for her last week at the store without thinking twice.

He wasn't about to dig through her shit without asking. Y/n kept mental inventory of her snacks like a goddamn accountant, and Katsuki wasn't trying to get accused of theft for the next three business days.

So he asked. Simple.

Katsuki pushed himself off the couch, walked down the hall, and stopped outside her bedroom door. Knocked once. Sharp.

He frowned. Maybe she had headphones on. Maybe she was asleep. Either way, he'd done this a hundred times before—they were roommates. Borrowing shit, stealing snacks, bothering each other from doorways. It was normal.

He knocked again. Waited approximately two seconds. Then cracked the door open.

Immediate, horrible silence.

Because Y/n was very much in her room. Very much awake. And her hands were completely busy.

One under the tangled covers. The other holding her phone, an earbud pressed in halfway. Soft, wet sounds filled the small gap in the door.

Katsuki froze.

His hand stayed wrapped around the doorknob. His face went blank. Then red. Bright fucking red.

He snapped his eyes toward the ceiling like it had personally become the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

Katsuki stood in the hallway. Motionless. His ears burned. His heart was beating hard enough to piss him off, and the image his brain had caught in those unfortunate few seconds had already permanently carved itself somewhere inside his skull.

He covered his face with one hand.

This was bad. This was really fucking bad.

Because he already liked her. Already had to remind himself not to stare when she walked around half-asleep. Already got irritated when she mentioned dates. Already cooked enough for two and pretended it was because making one serving was inconvenient.

And now he had to live here after that?

A long silence passed.

Then, because humiliation apparently hadn't killed him yet, Katsuki slowly looked toward her closed door and called through it.