CW: Crossdressing, deceit, BkDk, gender fuckery

The frat house basement was darkness cut by cheapo lazer lights. Furniture was shoved against the wall so the floor could hold the press of bodies, meshing to the bass-boosted EDM.

Izuku’s make-up had yet to succumb to the sweat

that had gathered under his pink lace wig, even as his waterproof full-coverage foundation and layered-on contour and highlighter added to the thick heat. Izuku was /very/ used to it by now.
A blonde girl named Camie had grabbed his hips and pulled him back against her.

“Hey, baby girl~” She’d cooed, and he’d grinded back against her lap. This was a common interaction between girls at these types of parties. The guys /loved/ when the girls danced with each other, and both Izuku and Camie were whores for that attention.

Camie didn’t know Izuku.

Camie knew /Miya/. The pink-haired, slutty punk girl with the flawless eyeshadow and perfect plump pink lips. Miya was a fixture of these parties, like the lights, like the sound system. Not a person, but a toy. Izuku loved the power, the masculine eyes roving over his body,

Not knowing the secret he was hiding. Miya and Izuku were one and the same. Izuku continued to sway his hips with Camie’s, let Camie’s hands drag up his smooth thighs, pushing his skirt farther up. This was where Izuku would take her hands and *teasingly* pull them away from his

skirt, not allowing her to feel too much, to expose too much, guiding her hands to his AAA cup chest.
“You’re fucking flat, bitch,” Camie said into his ear over the music.
“I know, right? /Your/ tits are huge.” Izuku said back. Camie squished her chest more against Izuku’s back.

“Thanks! They’re real~” She purred and Izuku tittered a laugh, head light from how pleasantly turned on he was. His tuck was holding up nicely.
Izuku knew this was a good show. He and Camie both cast glances at the guys around them, soaking in the attention. There was no

better feeling than having so many eyes on them.
-
Izuku never allowed himself to get too drunk at these parties, and he always left before /other/ ppl got /too drunk/. He had a charade to uphold and there were always more parties to go to.
Izuku would sneak

out to the back of the house to have a cigarette, and this night was no different. The first party of the year had gone /very well/. Izuku was lighting up his American Spirit and making mental notes of his plans for the rest of the semester. He’d been afraid he’d be rusty after

the summer, but he’d picked his persona right back up.
The back of the frat house had a decent sized patio and yard; a handful of frat boys had set up a beer pong table and they were playing it with almost no audience. Which Izuku thought was odd. What’s the point in

playing beer pong if no one was watching?
One of the boys, a tall guy with black hair, had just chugged another red solo cup and then immediately sprinted to the grass and threw it back up.
“Light weight!” Izuku heard one of them chant. Izuku looked away; he did NOT like puke.

He was gonna finish his cigarette and then he was gonna get going.
“You should probably puke, too, Katuski.” Izuku tensed at the name.
“‘M fine.” ‘Katsuki’ said. His back was turned to Izuku. Broad shoulder and blond hair. An eerily familiar air about him. /Oh shit, what?/

Izuku ducked his head, flushing. Kacchan wasn’t supposed to be at this university? Izuku was positive he’d gone somewhere else. Maybe he was just at the party?
“Oi! You okay, Gumby?” Katsuki called after the guy who’d puked. ‘Gumby’ sat down on the patio and gave a thumbs up.

“Hanta, get it together!” The team on the other side of the pong table was a scruffy haired blond guy and the other Izuku actually recognized as Eiji. They didn’t look drunk. Eiji jogged over to Gumby, patting his back and talking to him low enough that Izuku couldn’t hear.

Katsuki was supposed to be at a distant university, full-ride on a baseball scholarship, Izuku was sure. He hadn’t seen Katsuki /at all/ last year. Why would he come all the way to /this university/ for a run-of-the-mill frat party? Izuku glared at the bush nearby, jaw clenched.

“Got a cigarette I could bum?” Izuku jumped. He’d been thinking, so focused on not looking at Katsuki, he’d actually been able to sneak up on him. Katsuki leaned against the brick wall with his shoulder, still assertive, intimidating in spite of the drunken blush splattered

across his nose.
“S-sorry, this is my last one,” Izuku breathed, afraid his practiced voice was still too recognizable. Izuku hadnt talked to Katsuki since middle school and his heart was shivering in his chest.
“Mm,” Katsuki hummed. Looked Izuku up and down, eyes lingering at

the strip of skin exposed from his crop top. Izuku adjusted his jacket, trying to hide his broad shoulders. Katsuki moved even closer, bracing his arm against the wall right next to Izuku. He smelled like cologn and beer; his body was warm, heat radiating into Izuku’s space.

“You look weirdly familiar.” Katsuki’s hazy eyes were scrutinizing Izuku’s face. Izuku looked away, the ash on his cigarette gathering as he let it burn.
“Haha, weird,” he said.
“Bakubro!” Eiji called from where he was standing next to a still prone ‘Gumby.’ “Ask your ladyfriend

if she wants to play some beer pong.”
“Gimme a sec!” Katsuki called back. He turned back to Izuku, swaying. Izuku realized Katsuki was /a lot drunker/ than he’d thought. Katsuki was so close, his hip was pretty much touching Izuku’s. “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere. We go to

high school together?”
“I don’t think so,” Izuku said. Katsuki pursed his lips.
“You a cheerleader? Maybe I saw you at a football game,” Katsuki prodded.
“Nope,” Izuku muttered, trying to keep his legs still. “I was in theater. Costume design. Back stage.”

“Mh... guess it doesn’t matter,” Katsuki said. “You heard him, yeah? Wanna play some beer pong?”
“Hmm,” Izuku hummed. Did he? Did he want to spend time with Katsuki? Did he want to give Katsuki the

chance to figure him out? He looked up at him, took a drag off his cigarette. All of Katsuki’s drunk aggressive attention was on Izuku. No, on /Miya./ Izuku exhaled smoke; Katsuki was unphased. Izuku felt his pride set in, the allure of the ego trip of tricking even /Kacchan./

Katsuki wasn’t going to figure him out. Izuku was too good for that.
“Yeah, I do” Izuku said, putting his cigarette out on the wall. Katsuki smirked.
“Name’s Katsuki, by the way,” Katsuki said.
“Miya,” Izuku said confidently.

((TBC))