“Wow,” Deku said with a long whistle as he eyed the corpse upon his metal slab. “What a mess.”
“No shit,” Bakugou said, keeping his hands in his pockets as he remained firmly on the other side of the table from Deku. He’d rather be assaulted by the scent of week-old body in a river than the cologne Deku seemed to wear every damn time they met. “Whaddaya think? A week, right?”
“Not quite,” Deku said, lips pursed in thought before he covered his nose and mouth with a thin white mask and leaned in and began unbuttoning the remainder of the man’s ripped shirt.
“Do you want coffee?” Deku said with a smile in his voice, his gloves hands nimble. “I just made a pot in my office. The good stuff, too. And there’s some homemade granola I put together yesterday. I heard you dragged this one out before sunrise, so you’ve already had a long day.”
Deku could be literally up to his elbows in rotten corpse and still be adorable. Bakugou hated it.
“I didn’t come here for fuckin’ table service, you nerd.” Katsuki didn’t flinch when Deku stuck two fingers inside the dude’s mouth and scooped out river grime and slop. “Just gimme a report.”
“Your dedication to your job is admirable as always,” Deku said, flicking his warm gaze up. The dark shadows beneath his eyes told a different story, though.
“Maybe you should have some coffee,” Bakugou muttered. “You look shitty.”
“Hey,” Deku said, using tweezers to pick through a wide gash on the man’s forehead. “You call, I come.”
“Yeah, well,” Bakugou looked away, anywhere, and scratched his jaw. “Thanks.”
“Now, go get yourself some coffee, Special Agent.”
Anything to get out of this room now.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Bakugou said under his breath, even as he stalked away. That stupid cologne followed him all the way to the office.
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