Work Text:
Act 1
“Your job is to stay behind the bar, make the orders and not fuck up.”
Izuku had lived his entire life in a small coastal town hours away from the city. His days had been full of walking around in sandals to the gas station store with his friends, and last minute trips to the beach at the end of his neighborhood street. He was raised by a loving single mom in a small apartment whose paint was peeling from years of harsh sunlight and saline in the air.
He was used to slow pace days, serene breezy nights and quiet moments that gave him multiple seconds to breath. However, when he decided to move to LA for his masters after finishing undergrad, he realized how he had taken for granted his small beach town.
“I can’t have you talking to one patreon for too long, y’understand?” His new boss, Aizawa, was giving him a trial-orientation on his bartender duties. Meaning, his new and most recently acquired job. “Serve the drink, ask if they want to keep the tab open or closed—self explanatory really, and move on to the next.”
“Yes, sir,” Izuku said as he followed the older man behind the counter of the center bar.
The Pink Pony was a well known club tucked in the strip, a part of West Hollywood dedicated to queer spaces. A couple days into his first semester, and with the dire need for a job, Shinso had told him about a bar he knew was hiring. Izuku knew about Shinso being gay, and when he went to check out Pink Pony with Shinso and his boyfriend, he fell in love. Multiple mirror disco balls covering the entire expanse of the ceiling. A round main bar in the middle of the place with vines and lamps hanging above, other scattered bars in the corners of the wide space. It was a pink wonderland with good music, who could ask for more?
“Your schedule will be the closing shift from Thursday to Sunday, so from 8pm to 4am. However, since today is your first day you may leave at 12. Tomorrow we will go over the closing checklist,” Aizawa said
Izuku’s head was spinning a little. The DJ, who Izuku was pretty sure was called Kyoka, was testing the sound for the night. Loud blasts of music coming from speakers near the stage needed to be fixed to blend with the ones closer to the bar. There was a group of dancers going over their routine on the stage and he could recognize Denki, Shinso’s boyfriend, goofing around with a girl with wild, pink hair. He made eye contact with the pair and quickly diverted his gaze back to his new boss.
“Yes, sir,” Izuku said once again.
“Stop calling me sir , makes me feel older than I am,” Aizawa said with a huff. He lifted the set of glasses on the counter. “I need you to clean these, prep the station for when we open. Cut the limes, put out the cherries, stack the napkins, etc.”
“Yes, si—I mean, okay,” Izuku replied, embarrassment coloring his cheeks pink
Aizawa raised an unamused eyebrow and leaned his back against the counter. Izuku could feel the fixed stare on him as he started to pick the wet glasses to dry them.
He had worked in a diner back at home. It was an American style restaurant near the beach that served burgers and fries, he was a waiter. It had been a good job to have during his undergrad days when he needed extra money for comic books, cigarettes and bar covers. He had always been popular with customers, always remembering regulars and their orders, and getting nice tips from families and the older crowds. He hoped he could be a good asset to Pink Pony while he was at it.
“Izu-kun, how is Aizawa treating you? Has he scared you away yet?”
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Kaminari’s voice. The blond and the pink-haired girl were both sitting in front of him, makeup being set down in the counter he will need to clean later.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Aizawa interjected.
“That’s why my makeup is here, duh . Plus, we want Shirley Temples,” Kaminari said while batting his eyes at Izuku for the last part.
“Yeah, we gotta test if the newbie is good at making our signature drinks,” the pink haired girl said. Izuku cocked his head to the side in confusion and bounced his eyes from one dancer to the other. “Oh, I am Mina Ashido. And Kiri always makes awesome non-alcoholic drinks for us. We are not allowed to drink on the job,” Mina.
“Nice to meet you! I’ll do my best with the Shirleys,” Izuku replied with a wide smile.
He went ahead to grab the cans of ginger ale and poured them in the recently cleaned glasses. After the bubbles faded he added the grenadine and, instead of one, he placed three maraschino cherries as garnish on top. It wasn’t a hard drink to make so he wasn’t sure how to exceed his co-workers’ expectations, spoiling them a bit seemed like a good way to go.
Mida made grabby hands at him as he placed both drinks on top of the pink napkins near the dancers. She went ahead and took a long sip from the straw and let out a loud moan.
“Aizawa, you have to make him work at the main bar,” Mina whined. “He is handsome and thoughtful!” Izuku patted himself in the back, the cherries had worked.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Aizawa said with a gruff. “Midoriya, I'll leave you to it. Kirishima will catch up to you soon so stay put and don’t spoil those two.” he finished while pointing at the two sitting in the bar.
“Yes sir,” Izuku said and immediately kicked himself. Sir .
Aizawa let out a big sigh and pushed himself off the counter he had been leaning on to make his way towards the kitchen. Him and the two dancers stared at him until he was far enough.
“He is so grumpy for no reason! I want you to see us perform,” Mina whinnied.
“It’s okay! I’ll be shadowing Kirishima tonight so if he is in the main bar I’ll catch y’alls performance,” Izuku assured with a smile as he finished cleaning the glasses. “I am excited to meet everybody as—“
“Do you have a type Izu-kun?” Denki interrupted as he fixed his makeup in the compact mirror he held up to his face.
A loaded silence fell upon them. Mina stole a quick glance at Izuku but quickly diverted her eyes back to the drink he had prepared for her.
Izuku understood the question, the answer expected from him wasn’t as simple. He knew what kind of bar he had applied to, he was well aware of the area they were located, and the fame the Pink Pony had in the nightlife of the city, queer or not. Denki wasn’t asking Izuku if he was an ass or tits guy, or if he prefered blondes or brunettes. The question was loud and clear.
“What do you think?” Izuku asked. He threw the tablecloth he was using to clean the glasses over his shoulder and crossed his thick arms over his wide chest.
Denki finished fixing his lipstick. He smacked his lips together as he sat up straight, and while still staring at himself in the mirror, he answered.
“Well, I think the girls will be disappointed to share you with your fellow teammates,” Denki said and sent a cheeky wink towards him snapping the mirror closed
Izuku snorted at the implication.
Act 2
“Mido-bro, mind grabbing those crates on your way out?” Kirishima called from the kitchen.
Izuku was going to step out for a quick smoke break in between his kitchen shift and the bar shift. Aizawa had approached the two guys earlier letting them know that they would be working the main bar, a circle placed in the middle of the club. Izuku couldn’t help but think that Mina and Kaminari had something to do with it.
“Got it!”
Izuku bent down to grab the plastic boxes stacked by the back door. He held one crate in each hand and kicked the metal door of the service entrance open. The loud boom of the heavy thing colliding with the brick wall made him jump and he yelled an apology to the guys in the kitchen.
He went down the steps to reach the backend parking lot. It was a small square of pavements surrounded by chain-links and the back of the neighboring buildings. It had five parking spots reserved for staff and a huge pothole in the middle of it all. He turned right to go into the alleyway where the dumpsters were lined up and stacked both plastic crates by the blue recycling. He then clapped his hands together to get rid of dust.
The night was warm and the humid air that infiltrated the strip’s nightlife reminded him of home in some way. The stickiness in the breeze hitting the back of his neck transported him back to long night walks around his neighborhood with his friends growing up. He only hoped his curly hair wouldn’t get too freezy.
Izuku sat down on the steps by the door and with ease, he fished for the cigarettes and the matches in his back pocket. He held the white thing in between his chapped lips and swiftly lit the match to bring the cigarette to life. He looked forward to the peace that accompanied the first drag of a smoke, however it seemed like his day would keep getting hectic.
Izuku’s cigarette fell on the steps, the soul leaving his body as an old mustang accelerated down the alley. The revving echoing and bouncing between the tight walls caused Izuku to startle. With a squeal of wheels the car stopped by one of the empty parking spots. He blindly tapped on the cement to grab the white stick, eyes glued to the car. What the fuck was that?
In a blink of an eye the driver’s door slammed open, bouncing back and forth by reaching the limit of how open it could be. A pair of red cowboy boots stepped out of the car and Izuku’s eyes couldn’t help but trail upwards the person’s legs. Tan, long, sexy things, that were cut off by frailed denim shorts.
He didn’t get to see the face of the person getting out of the car. However, he noticed their wild mane of blond hair, almost white under the moonlight, put up in a high ponytail and a denim jacket with the word “unlovable” smeared in red across their shoulders.
“Ugh!” the blond exclaimed, voice breaking as they slammed the driver's door shut. As if the loud boom of it wasn’t enough, they punched the hood of the car as they walked away.
The back of the club had the service entrance and a firescape to the second floor so the performers could go straight to the change rooms. The heeled boots clicked past him as the person walked towards the ladder, pulling it down for the thing to bounce against the floor from the sheer force of it dropping. Izuku kept looking as the person started to climb up the rusty thing. His eyes trailed down again towards the denim shorts and blushed at the asscheeks peaking.
When the person got to reach the top door Izuku couldn’t help but notice the intense carmine eyes that spared him a glance. All he could do was gulp at the intensity of the side eye, and the blush that once covered his cheeks extended all the way down to his freckled chest.
Izuku couldn’t hear, but he was sure he saw the person’s mouth moving from the side view, “What?” he yelled back.
“Staring. Quit it!” The blond yelled again. Izuku wanted to be yelled at more by that deep voice.
“Sorry, you are just beautiful. I’m sorry, really.” He turned his head back down to the floor, his eyes glued to the lit end of his smoke.
Silence stretched as Izuku waited for a reply, but the slam from the upstairs door was his cue to leave. He stood up and let the cigarette fall from his scarred hands. With a last blow of smoke into the air, he turned back towards the service entrance.
He yanked the door open and rested against it when shut. He could feel the metal cooling him down, drying the sweat from his nape and helping the flush go away. Izuku’s eyes were lost in the light flickering above as his mind drifted to the blond. He wondered if they were one of the performers, or the dancers, or simply staff. He wondered what days they worked and if he would get to see their full face.
“You good?” Izuku snapped out of his trance to be met with red eyes.
“I just saw the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Izuku replied to Kirishima.
Act 3
Katsuki wasn’t having a good night. Hell, he was having the shittiest day.
Camie was late in her rent payment and Katsuki had to cover for her which dented his savings account a bit. His phone call with his mother had snowballed into a yelling match, fighting over the same thing over and over and over again. And since the hag wouldn’t shut up in her berating, Katsuki went ahead to install his extensions since he was clearly running late to the club. The cherry on top was his Mustang’s starter acting up. It took him four tries to bring the piece of heavy metal back to life. Fuck whomever said that third is the charm bullshit.
“Ugh!” he screamed as he slammed the door shut of his car after parking in the back of the Pink Pony . He swung his purse over his shoulder and with another wave of frustration he brought his fist down to the hood of his car. Fuck this piece of shit.
He could hear his boots clicking in the pavement as he made his way to the firescape when the familiar scent of smoke hit his nose. He cursed himself for not checking if the lot was empty, but he could see from the corner of his eye a guy sitting by the service entrance and by the look of his white, short-sleeve-button down, Katsuki assumed he was a worker here.
The blond one decided to pay no mind to unwanted attention from strangers. He needed to do his makeup—that would take him a long while. He needed to make sure the track he had written and made Camie sing was good to go with Kyoka. He needed to sew the last line of sequins from his booty shorts that had detached the night before, and make sure Kami hadn’t stolen his favorite pair of tits.
“Stop staring,” he growled from the top of the firescape. He had felt the guy's eyes on him all this time and it was getting on his nerves. Motherfucker probably thought he was one of the showgirls and that made his blood boil. Blame his mother for calling him a Pink Pony Girl as a form of humiliation.
“What?” the guy yelled back.
“Staring. Quit it!”
“Sorry, you are just beautiful. I’m sorry, really.”
Katsuki stopped dead on tracks at that and after a beat of a heart he turned fast to meet the guy. Unfortunately the green-haired stranger had glued his eyes back to the pavement. Katsuki stared down at him for a second, the stranger had definitely heard his rough voice when he had yelled to stop staring. Walls coming down, Katsuki let out a sigh and made his way towards the door and disappeared into the upstairs hallway.
Beautiful.
Katsuki brushed his bangs back as he opened the door from the assigned dress room for the Queens. He walked straight to his vanity towards the left, passing by Monoma, Kaminari, Mina and surprisingly Hanta who seemed to be fixing the bulbs in his vanity.
“Kats! You are late,” Denki said, sipping from a Shirley. “You are never late.”
“Yeah well, shit happened,” Katsuki replied with a sigh as he let himself ploop on his chair.
His makeup lined up near the bottom of the mirror, his tits on the side drawer tucked safely and out of dunceface’s grimy hands, and his sewing kit and costume in the duffle bag left underneath the table. He bent down to take a look at the damage done the night before when he thought doing a split was a smart idea when wearing skin tight shorts.
“Y’all saw the new guy by the bar?” Mina said. She was sitting on top of the vanity Sero had been fixing.
“Oh, Midoriya? Guy seems real nice,” Sero said as he packed his tools away. “He is new in town and Eiji adopted him in a heartbeat,” he finished with a chuckle.
Katsuki perked up at the mention of a new guy. He thought of the stranger before. It had to be him, he knew everyone who worked at the club, even those he didn’t share a shift with. Midoriya, what a mouthful.
“Hope he is not a pervert like the last one,” Monoma huffed as he leaned forward to add black to his waterline.
He agreed silently with the other blond, he would die before agreeing with Monoma out loud. It had been a while since Aizawa hired someone new for the bartender shift. The last guy had been an asshole who had the need to harass the showgirls. It took two drag queens in heels and one of the guys in the kitchen to kick him the fuck out after trying to take a peek inside the girls’ changing room. However, if this Midoriya was hired by Aizawa he must be a decent guy. Boss was firm in not repeating past mistakes.
“Izu-kun is as sweet as they come! He goes to school with ‘Toshi,” Denki replied. He was fixing his wig with a teasing comb and a shitton of hairspray. “Besides his Shirleys are to die for and you know Mina and I are picky bitches.”
“Hear, hear,” Mina said and raised her glass in the air.
Act 4
“Oi, I got the track.”
Katsuki made his way downstairs to meet with Kyoka. A small USB inside his tight fist, he was nervous. Writing had always been a type of escape for him and he had lyrics brewing in his mind that were perfect to perform.
“Holy shit, a tall woman,” Kyoka whispered as she saw Katsuki approaching her. He was ready and in full drag, and his 6’0 self in 8 inch heels was towering over the club DJ.
“Nothing you ain’t seen before. Here you go.” He rolled his eyes and dropped the USB on Kyoka’s hand. She inspected the small object before plugging it straight to her computer.
“Sweet. Let me give it a listen beforehand, make sure everything is good,” Kyoka said, not meeting his eyes as she clicked away on the laptop on top of her equipment.
“Do whatever you gotta do, Ears. I am up in 7,” Katsuki said.
He left the booth and made his way backstage and plopped down in one of the couches waiting for the current act to end. It was a Thursday and while he still worked weekdays, he used those days as trials. Days he would allow himself to try out new things, see if they were crowd pleasers, and repeat them during the weekend when the good tips usually happened. Tonight was one of those nights.
His act usually consisted of the typical lip-syncing, either by himself or paired up with another queen—Kami had been begging him to do a performance together for weeks. Comedy and crowdwork, which he enjoyed a lot because poking fun at people and himself was always entertaining.
Tonight he had something a little different in mind. It wasn’t the first time he performed an original song, and it wouldn’t be the last time either. He had written multiple songs in the past. However, he only liked to do the writing, never the actual singing. So, he made his roommate Cami record the vocals for him to perform and lip-sync to. This song was a little different, and definitely more personal to him.
“Kats, you are up now,” Mina, tonight’s host, said. as she quickly peaked in and out of the curtain separating him from the main stage.
Katsuki stood up and took a deep breath calming down his anticipation. The lights were off on the stage so the patrons wouldn’t see his stride to the center of the stage. He hit his mark, his back facing the crowd and his arms reaching the sky. Katsuki shivered as his pink see-through robe with fluffy sleeves melted all the way down to his shoulder. In a beat the melodious tunes of a piano started, followed by the reflector focusing on him from his shoulders up.
Slowly he brought his hand down as he mouthed the opening lyrics,
i know you wanted me to stay
but i can’t ignore all the crazy visions of me in LA
He fully turned to face the crowd, invisible behind the blinding lights illuminating his face. He stretched one arm and then the other towards the crowd and then brought them up to his head to imitate a crown.
i’m having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee
hear, santa monica i swear is calling me
He walked to a corner of the stage and curled inwards, pain written all over his face as he faked despair and disappointment and suddenly, he stood up with a painful yell,
god, what have you done
He channeled his mother, the pointed fingers and angry faces he got when he was caught dressed up in his room as a teen. But that quickly changed to a content grin as he let his hands roamed through his body showing off his figure.
it’s where i belong down at the
Pink Pony Club
The stage lit up, pink lights reflecting on mirrored disco balls, the audience engaged and encouraging, and Katsuki did what he did best. He put on the best show of his life,
He needed to talk to them. The beautiful person behind the pink eyeshadow and strong legs. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost the opportunity. He needed to find them.
After the performance Izuku was eager to catch a glimpse of Dykenamight. He was almost done with his shift and he would die if he had to leave without at least introducing himself.
In the midst of him turning left and right and through the patrons behind the bar he completely missed the person that plopped down in a stool towards his left.
“Newbie, a Shirley,” a brash voice said over the music.
Izuku felt the whiplash from how fast his head had turned and again, he was met with the beautiful carmine eyes. This time the person didn’t have the blond wild ponytail from the parking lot, nor front he stage. A short and spiky cut framed their face. They had been wearing the same clothes from the parking lot a couple hours prior but the red eyeshadow and glitter on the chest was still pretty visible. The three of them were one and the same.
“Coming right up,” Izuku flashed the person a quick smile and rushed to make the same drink he had for Denki and Mina. He of course added three cherries, Aizawa be damned.
He set the glass on the napkin in front of the performer and planted his hands on his waist. Good job, Izuku. The blond looked down at the mocktail and seemed to be counting the cherries.
“So you are Hitoshi’s friend,” blondie said before taking a long sip of the drink.
“That’s me! Also I wanted to apologize for earlier with the whole,” Izuku moved his hand around in the air as he paused, “…beautiful thing. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He offered what he thought was his most sincere smile while hiding his eyes under his dark curls. He was grateful that the lights at the bar weren’t bright, that way the blond wouldn’t have to see his embarrassing blush. He could feel the same hard stare penetrating his being, and with the little courage he had left, he looked up to meet their eyes again.
The person had a smirk on their face, a teasing one.
“So your name is Izuku.”
“Yeah! How about you?”
“Call me Katsuki. God knows how bad it would be if you called me Dykenamight in conversation,” Katsuki said with a chuckle and Izuku couldn’t help but join along.
“So you think I am beautiful, even with the short hair?” Katsuki asked with a raised eyebrow.
Izuku leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar to get closer to Katsuki, “Well I—”
“Kid, shift is over! Hanta is switching with you,” Aizawa said leaning over Katsuki’s left side to talk to him. “And stop flirting on the clock, I won’t pay you for that,” he finished and stepped away.
Both him and Katsuki saw their boss disappear into the crowd.
“Embarrassment seems to follow you, I-zu-ku,” Katsuki taunted, but before Izuku could speak for himself he continued. “Let’s get out of here, I’m starving.”
Katsuki’s Shirley Temple was left behind half way. Glass sweating and damping the pink napkin.
Act 5
Izuku’s had never been anyone’s first choice. He was plain as they came, had jagged scars hidden underneath his compression sleeve, and his face was full of freckles and blemishes that subtracted numbers from his age appearance wise. So, who could blame the surprise on his face as he stared at the adonis in front of him devouring two double cheeseburgers, an order of large fries, and a strawberry milkshake?
Katsuki and him had left the club, more like Katsuki had dragged him outside of the club and straight to his car. They had said goodbye to Hanta and Aizawa on their way out, and Izuku had caught Kirishima giving him a genuine smile and a thumbs up. Izuku had followed blindly behind the blond one and got in his car without a bleep of protest. His mom would be so upset at him. Stranger danger.
They had a short drive down the strip with Joyride from Roxette playing in the back and Katsuki parked in the lot of the only food place that seemed to be open saying how he had been craving a burger all day. That was how they ended up seating in a corner booth with a feast of greasy food and delicious drinks.
They had been chatting, small talk to get to know each other better. Izuku knew now that Katsuki had been doing drag for over five years, that his outfits were usually orange but tonight it had to be pink and that he had lived in the area since he was a teen.
“By the end of high school? Why?” Izuku asked in between bites.
“I didn’t finish high school. Got my GED and started performing as soon as I turned 21. You could say my folks weren’t fond of the 10 inch heels they found underneath my bed,” Katsuki replied, cleaning the corner of his mouth with a fisted napkin.
Izuku stopped mid bite, “I’m sorry to hear about that.”
“It’s cool, we are in a better place now. Or at least I like to think so,” Katsuki swallowed. “How about you? When did you move here?”
“January? Beginning of Spring semester. I am getting a masters in data analytics,” Izuku said before sipping half of his shake in one go.
“Nerd,” Katsuki said with a chuckle. Izuku nodded, his mouth too full to speak.
“Why the Pink Pony?”
“Hitoshi recommended it. He said his boyfriend worked there and that they had been looking to hire a bartender for a hot minute. Took a couple mixology classes and started as soon as I could, aka today! Also I-I really like the place, I feel…comfortable,” Izuku said, but by the end of his reply he casted his eyes down. He felt somewhat embarrassed.
Izuku wasn’t necessarily in the closet. He was from a small town and he had grown accustomed to keeping a low profile around the topic of his own sexuality to the point where he had never outright said it outloud.
He could feel Katsuki’s stare burning him, and as much as he would like to look back he just couldn’t make himself look.
“Y’know? You didn’t answer my question at the bar. I asked you if you still thought I was beautiful even with the short hair,” Katsuki said. That’d do it. Izuku snapped his gaze up to be met with an unbothered Katsuki, too busy grabbing fry after fry with his index and thumb and plopping them between his gloss-less lips. “I just have to make sure because I am no girl, Izuku. I am a guy. I gay guy. With a dick, and balls, and everything,” he said, pointing an accusatory fry at Izuku.
He didn't think much about what Katsuki had or didn’t have. He only knew that he thought Katsuki was beautiful. That his hair was beautiful, his eyes were beautiful, and Jesus Christ—those legs. He knew he liked watching Katsuki perform, he knew that he liked his brash and tough attitude. He knew what he knew, and that was enough for him.
“I still think you are beautiful,” Izuku said above a whisper, “even with short hair.”
“But you don’t like dick.”
“Ka-Kacchan!” Izuku choked up, his embarrassment making his voice break and butchering his newfound crush's name. “You can’t speak about this out loud.”
“‘Course I can! So? Am I your type or what?”
Izuku was transported to his last conversation with Kaminari when he was asked what his type was. And just like before this wasn’t a simple question with an easy answer to Izuku. However, the more he thought about it, the more he shared glances and faint touches with Katsuki in the car, the more he heard about the blond and who he was, the more he sat in the artificial lights of this damn diner, Izuku found his answer.
“Yeah, you are exactly it.”