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One constant in Katsuki’s life is the absolute certainty that, no matter what, Deku could be the greatest hero in history and still be the dumbest fucker on the planet. In a strange way, that familiarity bred a particular sense of comfort. In a world where Katsuki can't rely on anyone but himself, he can also rely on that indisputable truth of the universe.
The trouble comes not when Deku does smart things—the moron wouldn’t have graduated UA or become a stellar hero otherwise—but when his dumb antics increase.
Initially, it’s nothing all that wild. Deku returns from a mission in the next city over, looking scuffed up and dazed, but otherwise no worse for the wear. It’s a little strange to hear that he didn’t suffer even one broken bone, but oh, well.
Deku glances at Katsuki as he passes his desk, where Katsuki is just trying to finalize some damn paperwork and go home. He just grunts in return. They get along better than in high school, for sure, but they’re not precisely what Katsuki would call friends. Just not-so-hateful-acquaintances and coworkers who happen to form the country-wide, if not world-wide, famous Wonder Duo. Whatever. No biggie.
Not like he’s wanked off to the shitty nerd on and off over the past years. It’s whatever.
“Oh—hey, Deku!” Just a few feet away, Uravity leaps to her feet. “I heard the mission was a success. Great job!”
Deku blanches. “Oh—I—uh…”
Stuttering idiot. And here Katsuki thought he’d outgrown that childish crush when Round Face started dating Asui a year ago. The fuck.
“Deku?” Uravity rounds her desk, concern etched on her face. “You okay?”
“I…” Deku sucks a deep, sudden breath, and then blurts, “ThankyoufornotdatingKacchaneventhoughpeoplewentkindofcrazyovertheideaaftertheSportsFestivalinfirstyearOKAYTHANKS!”
Katsuki jerks his head up. Stares.
Uravity is also staring. Her pink cheeks flush pinker. “I… uh… what?”
“I’m sorry! Excuse me, I have to—to scream at some paperwork!” Deku bolted from the room, the green electricity of One for All crackling in his wake.
Though he literally never acknowledges Uravity, Katsuki can’t help turning his stare on her. She meets his eyes, visibly as baffled as him—and considerably more flustered.
“Uh… Dynamight, do you know what he’s talking about?”
Katsuki grimaces and shoves his chair back. “No fuckin’ clue.”
It’s a lie. He knows exactly what Deku’s referring to. A fanboy like him would know the minds of other fanpeople, and that there’s a disturbingly large following who watch the UA Sports Festival every year, for the sole purpose of finding their new ‘ships. That year, Katsuki and Round Face had somehow made the top five (if only barely—they’d literally come in at five). And Katsuki knows because the damn nerd keeps stupid careful notes of everything, and he’d stumbled across the moron scribbling in an old notebook a year ago, muttering to himself about how things change.
Fucking weirdo.
“Should I check on him?” Uravity wonders aloud.
Katsuki grimaces and stands. “I’ll do it.”
“Oh… thanks, Dynamight.”
“Whatever. You’ll just make it weirder if you go, idiot.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Fair.”
God damn it. Deku's always been a pain in the ass, but leaving Katsuki to clean up after one of his stupid mouth fails is a new low.
Grumbling, Katsuki closes his laptop and grabs his things. No way is he going to stick around after this. Hawks can suck it if he doesn’t like late paperwork, forcing them to fill out bullshit after bullshit when they aren’t even the ones starting these damn fights.
He stalks down the halls. Faint traces of One for All still crackle here and there like little breadcrumbs. The air smells like ozone.
It’s too early for this. Too many people still walking the halls, chatting about bullshit, scurrying from one room to the next with requests and coffee and the occasional burst of giggles that just dig under his skin after a long day.
Katsuki finds a spot about halfway down the hall. Digs his heels in. Inhales deep, and lets out a slow, smooth breath. Calm. Focused. Inhales again.
“HEY! SHITTY DEKU! GET THE FUCK OUT HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF BEFORE I TELL THAT STUPID FROG YOU’RE AFTER HER GIRL.”
It’s a shitty low blow, but fuck, Deku started it.
There’s a series of thumps and shrieks and apologies before the women’s bathroom bursts open and Deku emerges. His entire face is red, arm over his eyes, his lips spewing apologies and body in a defensive position, as if anyone actually would be offended enough to throw things at him. Katsuki can already hear the conversations women will have tomorrow: Oh, Deku was in the women's bathroom? Poor guy, he must be so embarrassed! Is he okay?
Fuckin' Deku. It's that stupid cherub face.
Katsuki storms forward and snags him by the shirt. “Come on, asshole! We’re going for a walk!”
Muffled whimpers answer him. He sees that Deku stuffed his fist in his mouth, making whatever he’s trying to say utterly unintelligible.
Fucking moron.
Katsuki drags him out of the building. No one stops them. Much as Katsuki gets shit on for his attitude, it comes in handy in moments like this. Outside is a different story, however; civilians gawk at the two men. It’s probably a disturbing sight; one man in his early twenties, jacked beyond reason, dragging another muscled young man who could easily pass for a senior in high school.
“All right, nerd,” grouses Katsuki. “The fuck happened back there?”
More muffled noises.
“Take your fucking hand out of your mouth first!”
A gross pop sounds as, presumably, Deku removes his fist from between his jaws. Then:
“IgothitwithaquirkandIkeepblurtingembarrassingthoughts!”
Katsuki freezes. Turns, arching an eyebrow at the curly-haired idiot covering his mouth with both hands, eyes wide and horrified.
“Pfft.”
Deku makes an indignant sound. “S’ nah fu’ee!”
“Oh, hell, no, nerd, it’s hilarious.” Katsuki lets go of him, crossing his arms as his smirk widens. “Wait, wait, let me test this.”
“P’ees duhn!”
Katsuki grabs his wrists and yanks them down, a shit-eating grin taking over his features. “Hey, Deku, what do you think of my mom’s quirk?”
Red steals across Deku’s face. “ShelookssogoodforherageandreallyhotactuallyIseewhereyougetyourgenesfromKACCHAN!”
Oh, this is fucking amazing.
“Quit whining,” says Katsuki, still grinning. “Be glad this didn’t happen in high school. Or, hell, middle school. My shitty brat self would’ve tormented you to death.”
The glare Deku levels is dead serious. “That’s not funny, Kacchan.”
“Well, at least it’s not all that quirk makes you do,” he observes. “So it’s more like a lack of filter, huh?”
Deku slaps his hands over his mouth. Nods jerkily.
Still amused, Katsuki inclines his head. “Go on, asshole. Run home. I’ll let Round Face know and she can fill Hawks in.”
Deku’s so red that he’s turning purple.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” advises Katsuki.
A whine escapes Deku. He backs up a step. When Katsuki just cocks his head and doesn’t follow, Deku lowers his hands to blurt, “ThanksKacchanyou’retoogoodformeBYE!”
Then he bolts, but not before Katsuki gets a good look at his mortified expression.
Fucking weirdo. He shakes his head, his amusement fading as he considers the implication of this quirk. Shit. If the nerd really is still into Round Face, he’s going to hate himself if he can’t hold in his feelings around her. More so if finding out his crush is also into girls somehow ended up embarrassing him in the long run.
Belatedly, Katsuki realizes that he never asked how long the quirk is supposed to last. He pulls out his phone.
Shitnerd. How long is this gonna go on?
Texting is safe. No way Deku can fuck that up.
His phone pings before he can even return it to his pocket. Sheer morbid curiosity has him looking again.
I don’t know it sounds like anywhere from three days to a week and I know they’re going to recommend I take leave so I guess I’ll just masturbate lol
Katsuki’s eyes nearly bug out of his head.
Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping-ping-ping.
OH GOD I’M SO SORRY
IT’S LIKE MY ADHD ON AUTOPILOT
KACCHAN PLEASE FORGET THAT
I’M BEGGING YOU
DON’T MAKE ANYTHING WEIRD OUT OF IT
NOT THAT YOU WOULD I'M NOT ACCUSING YOU OF ANYTHING BUT PLEASE
Katsuki palms his face. Fucking nerd. Of course he’d find a way to fuck up even texting with a quirk like this.
He fires a quick message back. Chill out. Go jerk off or whatever, like I care.
Except, oh, he does care.
Katsuki silences his phone and pockets it before he can reconsider the decision. Then he continues on his way to his apartment, in the opposite direction of where Deku lives, which is great because after that text, Katsuki’s going to have a hard as hell time not thinking about the nerd’s dick when he masturbates tonight. And if there's one thing Katsuki isn't, it's quiet.
***
Sure enough, the next day Uravity is bursting at the seams with information.
“Dynamight, Deku’s been hit with a quirk!”
He growls and rubs a hand in his hair. “Yeah, I got that outta him already, remember.”
She persists after him as he tries to just make it to his damn desk. “That mission he was on yesterday, one of the villains had a quirk that’s almost like a truth serum! I guess they use it for blackmail? Anyway, Deku’s been hit with it! That explains his weirdness yesterday, huh?”
Katsuki shoots her an exasperated look. “Didn’t I already tell you half of that shit?”
Her cheeks puff. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s like a truth serum. So whatever he says, it comes from a place of honesty.”
“Yeah?” he snaps. “So what?”
She stares at him. Then lets out a huge sigh and turns on her heel. He swears he hears her mumble, “Tsu was right. Boys are stupid.”
Katsuki shakes his head. She must be talking about Deku. Must be, because if she means him, he’s going to blast a hole in her desk.
Whatever. He has work to do.
***
Toward the end of the day, just after he’s changed into civilian clothes and is signing the last piece of shitty paperwork, a shadow falls over his desk. One that's all too familiar and bouncy.
He looks up, irate. “What?”
“Aww, I missed you too!” Ashido winks and hands him a file. “This is all of the stuff Deku still needs to finish. Would you drop them off at his place since it’s on your way?”
“Haaa? You live in that direction, you little—”
“Thanks, Bakugo, byeee!”
She bounces out before he can finish. Katsuki grumbles and shoves the file into his bag.
Fucking nerd. Always making shit harder on him.
It’s a pain in the ass to go between apartments, so he shoots off a text. Gotta drop shit off for you. Lemme crash tonight.
The dots dance across the bottom of his screen not half a second after he sends the message.
That’s REALLY not a good idea.
He growls and practically crushes the screen with how fast his thumbs type. Fuck you, this is a courtesy! I’ll cook, so fix a fucking cot for me and let me in or I’ll break down your door!
Ping. Kacchan, you break my door all the time
Yeah, and I’ll break it again! I AIN’T GOING BETWEEN APARTMENTS ALL NIGHT AND I HAVE AN EARLY SHIFT TOMORROW, ASSHOLE.
The dots dance again. Then vanish. Then dance. And vanish again. Katsuki’s about to pop a blood vessel.
Finally, a response.
I’ll leave the door unlocked. Might be in my room though, so make yourself at home.
Katsuki’s immediate thought is, Is the nerd still jerking off?
And then he mentally slaps himself for it, because the last place he needs to pop a boner is at work.
Fuck it. He’ll make some excuse to borrow Deku’s shower and relieve himself in there. Then, at least, his dick will be too tired to rise to any accidental innuendo or unintentional invite due to Deku’s stupid fucking mouth becoming even stupider than usual. Even if that stupid fucking mouth would look so good wrapped around his—
He snarls. “Fuck you, Pinky!” From the snicker across the hall, she hears him loud and clear.
And people wonder why he only attends half of their class reunions. Meddling assholes.
***
Here's the thing: Katsuki knows himself just fine. He's quite self-aware. His problem, if one wanted to call it that, is accepting certain parts of himself. Like weaknesses, for example. Losing pisses him off. He's not as prone to outbursts over it as he was in high school, but the feelings are still there.
Now take Deku. Katsuki's known since childhood that something about that kid was magnetic. For years, he tried to flip his north pole to south, shoving Deku away with such violence that, in retrospect, it's fortunate that Deku's even alive.
(He was a right shit in childhood. Katsuki has no illusions about that anymore. But he's done all Deku's ever wanted him to do: apologize and try working together with him. High school was fucking traumatic in more ways than one.)
But still, take Deku. Sometime after the showdown with Shigaraki (and shit, are they lucky to be alive), things shifted dramatically. Katsuki no longer found Deku's presence a thorn in his side. At worst, he was an occasional bur.
Then he woke up one day and went to class and thought, Shit, he's cute today.
That's all it took, really. Since then, it's been a slow descent into grudging acceptance, along with a lot of internal kicking and screaming. For the past couple years, Katsuki's made peace with the feelings.
So Deku's hot. Big deal. It doesn't mean anything.
(Neither do the images he saves in a hidden folder on his phone. Sometimes the news captures Deku in some damn good moments. The guy's photogenic. And it's not creepy when the images are plastered all over the internet.)
Either way, he's well aware that if he had been hit by the same quirk (not that he would; he's not nearly as careless) he'd avoid Deku like the 2019 plague. So all in all, the fact Deku is allowing him in is just a testament to how one-sided his attraction is. Any flustered reactions is just Deku being a dumbass.
He stops at the store on the way and arrives at the nerd's apartment at 5 o'clock sharp. A quick rap on the door, and he opens it. Yells, "I'm intruding, shitnerd!"
"Okay!"
It comes from the bedroom. Figures. Katsuki shuts and locks the door. Toes off his shoes, sets down his bag, and hangs his jacket. The nerd's apartment is as messy as usual, despite an obvious and pithy attempt at cleaning. It looks like items were swept off surfaces quickly and reorganized in haste. Probably Deku trying to hide some precious new hero figures or some shit.
He sets the grocery bag on the counter and retrieves the stupid file that brought him here in the first place. "Hey, asshole. Hawks wants you to get on this immediately."
There's a crash and some muffled squeaks and mumbles. Idiot.
"Can you slide it under the door?"
He sounds a bit breathless. Katsuki silently orders his own mind out of the gutter. "Seriously? The fuck are you doing?"
More muffled. A whimper.
Mind. Out. Of. The gutter. Katsuki.
Finally, Deku stammers, "J-just… pulled a muscle, trying to stretch it out."
Cock muscle?
God damn it.
"Whatever." Katsuki shoves the file under the door. "I'm making dinner."
"What is it?"
At least that's a somewhat normal tone. "Gyudon."
Muffled mutter. Clang. Mumble.
"Sounds great, Kacchan!"
Already he's beginning to grow weary of this quirk. Here he'd thought that Deku was comfortable enough around him not to filter out so much, and now… well. Apparently, that wasn't ever true.
His mood soured and dick twitching, Katsuki occupies himself in the kitchen. It's a familiar routine (though Deku’s organization skills when it comes to anything but heroes is woefully inadequate) that helps to calm him. Sure, he's still pissy about misunderstanding their relationship for the past few years, but he and Deku have always had a rough time communicating. Just because it's gotten better doesn't mean everything is fine and dandy.
It takes next to no time at all to get everything going. He's even generous enough to cook separate portions so Deku doesn't whine about the spice levels.
Once the table is set, he shouts, "Come eat, asshole!"
Deku emerges within minutes. And he's… wait. The fuck?
"What," says Katsuki slowly, his mind still trying to process what he's seeing, "are you wearing?"
Deku gives him a look that says, Like I can explain this?
And… yeah. It's not like he can talk. Not with a fucking ballgag in his mouth.
Katsuki rubs between his eyes. "How the fuck are you gonna eat?"
Flushed, Deku points to the bowl, and then his room.
"That's gross," says Katsuki flatly. He's even more annoyed now, and, well… maybe a little hurt. "We don't have to talk. Just go kill the germs on your hands, take that shit out of your stupid face, and sit down."
He ensures that his voice leaves no room for argument. Deku hesitates, visibly trying to find a way out of this. When Katsuki intensifies his glare, the nerd's shoulders slump and he trudges to the bathroom.
Katsuki shakes his head. Fucking hell. Okay, so he gave Deku a little bit of shit over the situation yesterday. That's nothing new. But for the guy to act like Katsuki's going to interrogate him and make him spill his deepest, darkest secrets? That fucking stings.
(Besides, what deep, dark secret could the moron possibly have? His unrequited crush on Round Face? Katsuki’s been goddamn generous with his lack of ribbing him over that. Fuck.)
He sits down and begins to eat. After a few minutes, Deku finally joins him, sans ballgag.
Katsuki hopes he washed that damn thing.
Katsuki also wonders why Deku has one.
(Katsuki is also very, very haunted by the mental image of Deku fucking him into the couch while Deku is still wearing the ballgag. That's… disturbingly hot.)
He's a man of his word, though, so he does his best to look only at his food and eat. Goes over a list of things he'll need to do in order to make it to work on time tomorrow. He's got a spare set of clothes in his bag for emergencies, so that's settled. Plus an extra toothbrush for the same reason. Aside from a shower, he doesn't need much else.
Good. Perfect. Nice and efficient.
"Thanks for dinner, Kacchan."
He starts. Looks up, suspicious. Deku stares down at his empty bowl, his knuckles white as he grips the table.
Katsuki grimaces and polishes off his last couple bites. "S'fine. I'm gonna borrow your shower."
"Ohthat'samazing." Deku gasps and claps his hands over his mouth.
Katsuki blinks. "Right… do the dishes. Where's an extra towel?"
"Oh, I keep yours in the bottom drawer under the sink."
Wait.
Wait wait wait.
Deku is already standing and gathering the dishes. He's not freaking out. So what he said wasn't because of the quirk… it was genuine.
He keeps my towel in a certain place?
Katsuki didn't know what to make of that. Okay, no, he had a few guesses, and they ranged from stupidly hopeful to stupidly depressing. He keeps one just for me even though I'm rarely here because maybe he likes me. He keeps one for me because I'm demanding. He keeps one for guests and he used the wrong word. He keeps one separate for me because he can't stand the thought of me using his shit.
God damn it all. Katsuki stalks into the bathroom and slams the door harder than necessary. Turns the shower on to scalding heat, then finds the damn black towel exactly where Deku said it would be, along with other random shit like unopened toothbrushes, floss, soap, and a comb.
Okay. So it's a random shit drawer. Or a guest drawer. And there's no ballgag in sight, so Deku at least took care of that.
Katsuki's still moody.
He scrubs himself down. Any thought of jerking off is long gone; it's a lot harder to do in the object of his affection's apartment than he would've thought (but not in the communal work shower when he was alone? the fuck?) and the stupid goddamn drawer is getting under his skin.
It's only after he steps out of the shower to towel off that he realizes he forgot to grab the change of clothes.
Shit. No way is he putting on worn clothing after wearing them half the day. Fuck that, that's disgusting. But he can't very well walk around in someone else's house in just a towel, especially when he's already sexually frustrated over the very person who lives here.
"Oi, Deku," he yells.
"Yeah?"
"Grab my bag. Need my clothes."
Crash. Deku yelps. "Uh… yeah, sure! Sorry, just a sec, I dropped something!"
Katsuki palms his face. "Fuckin' forget it. I'll get it. I'm coming out."
A gasp, and a slap, and muffled mumbles again.
Christ.
Katsuki ensures the towel is perfectly secure and his face is not at all red before he storms out, purposefully avoiding looking toward the kitchen or living room. He snags his bag in the foyer, turns, and makes it back to the bathroom with zero incident or even seeing Deku once.
Okay, no. That's just a fantasy; what he'd planned to do.
What happens is that he grabs his bag, turns, and nearly collides with Deku trying to bolt into his room. It's a testament to their reflexes that they don't hit the floor.
And it's a testament to the universe having a cruel sense of humor that they somehow end up with Deku on his side, half-twisted so he's somewhat facing up, and Katsuki above him, hands on the floor, crackling with his quirk that produces smoke from the innocent floor boards so he forces his emotions to calm, and
well
his towel is sort of… open.
Seconds tick by. They feel like minutes. Katsuki is weirdly immobile, struck still by a heady rush and the thought of, Shit, he looks good under me, while Deku's eyes get bigger and bigger and his face gets redder and those eyes drift down and
"OhmygodyouhavetheperfectdickKacchan."
Whelp. That's it.
Katsuki's got a boner now.
"Oh, god." Deku covers his face with the arm not half-supporting himself. "Kacchan, I—it's not—"
Fuck it.
Katsuki shifts. The towel falls completely away, and his damp hair drips onto Deku's hand.
"Hey. Deku. Look at me."
Slowly, Deku peeks out from under his arm. His eyes stray down. And impossibly widen. Fuck, he's cute.
Quietly, Katsuki says, "I need to ask you some questions about this shitty quirk before we do anything. Cool?"
Deku covers his mouth. Then nods.
Good. The nod seems genuine, even if the damn nerd is shaking. But… shit, Katsuki's not exactly not trembling a little bit, too, and it sure as hell ain't from holding himself up like this.
"Deku." A squeak of acknowledgement almost makes him smile, but Katsuki schools his expression into solemnity. "Does this quirk affect anything but your mental filter?"
Almost as though an invisible hand pries them, Deku's fingers open enough for his muttering to be audible. "No."
Katsuki inhales deep and slow. "So it doesn't affect your feelings?"
Deku is going to turn purple if he blushes any harder. "N-no… godKacchanI'msosorry—"
"Shut up, stop apologizing!" Damn it, if Deku keeps that up, Katsuki will lose his nerve. "Deku. Do you wanna fuck?"
"God, yes."
And that's all she wrote for Katsuki's self-restraint.
He jerks Deku's hand away and kisses him. Though, well, kissing is a light term for it. It's more like an open-mouthed, wet, starving bite and clash of teeth and tongue and Deku is melting under the onslaught. Then he's suddenly a solid human being again, yanking Katsuki down until their bodies are flush together. Rough fingers in his hair, down his neck and back, squeezing his ass.
Holy shit.
Then, just as abruptly, Deku shoves him up. "Wait!"
Katsuki pants, a tumultuous churn of emotions twisting his gut. He doesn't want to wait, but, shit, why so sudden? Is Deku scared? Did the quirk somehow wear off and he was regretting this? Was he—
"Kacchan, I don't want it to be just sex!"
Oh.
Oh.
Katsuki stares at him, half in disbelief, half in what feels like a sense of victory creeping into his veins. "You wanna date, nerd?"
Deku nods frantically.
Groaning, Katsuki's head slumps for a moment. Words stick in his mouth, until he loosens his jaw enough to let out the only one that matters:
"Finally."
Deku jolts as though he's surprised. Surprised. Then again, the dumbass probably managed to convince himself that this was some cruel joke and… ah, shit, who's he kidding? Katsuki is struggling to believe it's real, too.
But… shit. Even if all of this comes from a place of honesty, Deku's still under the effect of a quirk.
"Oi, shitnerd, what are the release conditions?" demands Katsuki.
Deku blinks. "Uh… nothing, really. It just wears off after a few days."
Katsuki groans and thumps his head against Deku's. "God damn it…" He takes a deep breath. "We gotta wait until it does."
"Huh? But… why?"
"Because, you stupid fucking hot idiot of a shitnerd, I don't wanna take advantage of you!" When Deku opens his mouth to protest, Katsuki adds, "If it were me, you'd do the same thing."
Deku's mouth snaps closed.
Fuck. This is insane. But Katsuki knows it's the right choice.
His dick is throbbing in raging disagreement, but that's not going to overtake his morals, god damn it.
He eases off Deku and wraps the towel around his waist again. Disappointed as Deku looks, he's also still flustered and sports a half-dazed grin.
Yeah. Katsuki's mentally in the same boat. Would've been, physically, but his cock is being… well, a cock.
Roughly, he says, "I'm gonna lose it if we're in the same room. Gonna change and go to sleep on the couch."
Shaking his head furiously, Deku says, "I'll set up the cot."
Katsuki's mouth twitches. "What, no offering the bed to me?"
Now Deku looks genuinely offended. "It's my bed, Kacchan! And you already told me to set up a cot."
He snorts. "You're a shit host."
"Am not." Deku climbs to his feet, rubbing the pads of his fingers together. A nervous habit of his that he'd picked up over the years. "Um… then what?"
"We wait this out."
Deku frowns.
Katsuki shrugs. He doesn't like it either, but that's what they have to deal with.
"I'll text you," says Deku.
"Whatever, nerd." Katsuki grabs his bag. Hesitates. Then admits, "Gonna use your bathroom for a bit."
A burst of want darkens Deku's eyes. He visibly swallows, then nods. "Okay."
They stand there. Both hard. Both twitching with the restraint of waiting. Both too awkward to move because, hell, this is quite an unusual development that neither of them saw coming.
Deku suddenly blurts, "I'mgonnamasturbatetoosorryOKAYGOODNIGHTKACCHAN!" Then bolts to his room and slams the door shut.
Katsuki shivers. That bulge… fuck. He'd only seen a vague outline and already he wants to chase Deku down and suck his soul out of his dick.
It's gonna be a frustrating few days.
***
Katsuki has no plans of returning to Deku's place during his quirk quarantine. Absolutely none. That would defeat the purpose of waiting this out.
So imagine his reaction when his phone pings after he showers the next afternoon, and he answers it because it's from Deku and what if the nerd actually needs something important? He opens the text.
It's a picture of Deku jerking off.
Holy
shit.
Katsuki grips his bathroom counter for balance. What the fuck. What the fuck. No lead-in, no comment, just a selfie of him from an upward angle, fisting his swollen cock, the head red and angry and leaking and he's sweating and glistening and Katsuki's mouth is watering with a thirst he knows won't be slaked until he sucks Deku off.
He utters a low growl that borders on a moan. Sets the phone down, propped against the mirror, and just stares at this image of utter perfection. Of Deku's scarred hand on his dick, one calloused thumb pressing upward on the tip to make more pre-cum leak.
"Deku, you fucker," he breathes.
He's touching himself, and not even for the first time that day. Last night had been a shock to the system. Of course he'd masturbated twice before going to work. Couldn't very well save civilians with a permanent hard-on. The media might love it but PR would be up his ass more than usual.
God damn Deku and his impulsive nature and thick cock and those fucking freckles scattered across his thighs and shit.
Katsuki manages to catch most of his cum in his hand. His chest still feels tight, though, and he knows that if Deku was here, he'd be slamming him to the floor and one of them would be immediately fucked into oblivion.
Before post-nut clarity can fully sink in and make him rethink this, he exits the app and pulls up the camera. Holds his hand out, sets the timer, and looks dead into the lens. He uses his clean hand to quickly send the photo, then slams his phone face down and washes his hands.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
Ping.
Katsuki draws a steadying breath, prepared for the response to be an apology or sudden realization that what they were doing wasn't part of the no fucking until the quirk passes deal.
Omg Kacchan can I please suck your dick when this is all over
Oh. Fucking. Hell.
He sends a quick reply before going to dress.
Not if I get to yours first, nerd.
***
Okay. A new day. A do-over. Katsuki's going to behave himself, damn it, even if shitty Deku doesn't. Katsuki isn't the one under a quirk influence, so he has to be the mature one here.
He gets ready for work when his phone goes off. Warily, he checks the name. Deku.
Shit. If he looks, it might be a repeat of last night, and he has to figure out a mature way of letting Deku down, even if it is only temporarily. That's going to be a headache.
Then again, if he doesn't check, he's going to wonder all damn day. He can't have that. Hero work comes first, no matter what his neglected libido says.
Katsuki opens the text. No new picture, thank god, though he can still see lower half of the one he'd sent back. Like a hormonal idiot.
Still having issues with the quirk.
Oh, fuck. He almost sags in relief. Then feels like an asshole. Then remembers he is an asshole, even if a slightly reformed one.
Katsuki taps a quick message back. Hang in there, horny nerd.
Yeah, that's fine. Encouraging and only a touch teasing.
Pleased with himself, he pockets his phone, puts on his shoes, and heads out.
It's a nice day. Sunny, on the warm side of spring, finally. People are milling about doing their typical bullshit. It's going to be fine. Maybe he'll even get to kick some stupid villain's ass, save some extras, and yell at reporters for getting too close to a battle. That'd be fine.
His phone goes off. Almost out of habit, he pulls it out and opens it. They'd just texted and it was fine. And anyway, it's just Shitty Hair, saying he'd be in the area and they should break for lunch together. Sure. No problem, as long as he's not in the middle of a case.
Another text. Katsuki's getting a little annoyed, but he's halfway to work, so whatever. He checks.
Kacchan can I ask for a favor later?
He raises an eyebrow. Depends. The fuck do you need?
The response is fast. Too fast. Almost like the damn quirk is still in effect.
Can you film yourself jerking off and coming, idk if I can come without seeing you anymore and it hurts PLEASE
Katsuki groans. Stops in the middle of the sidewalk to smack his head against a light post, ignoring the alarmed look of civilians.
"God damn it, Deku!"
***
Katsuki never, ever asks for favors. Ever.
So he doesn't blame Uravity for looking at him like he's grown tits and a third head when he says, "Do me a favor and ask that shitnerd if there's any other aspect to that stupid quirk that hit him."
"I… uh… why?"
He grimaces. "There's a possibility that it's not just a truth serum quirk."
Her voice piques with interest. "Such as?"
"How the fuck should I know?" he snaps. "Just ask him!"
She's not the timid girl from year one anymore. "I'm not doing anything without more information. What if I accidentally trigger the quirk and he tells me something that he'd die of embarrassment over later? I'm not losing that friendship because of your attitude, Bakugo."
"Use my hero name, shit!" He growls and knots his fingers in his hair. "Just… ugh. He's messaging me more than normal. It's distracting. If the quirk also effects his inhibitions, it's something else we need to know. And that asshole won't tell me if he thinks it might piss me off."
The grin Uravity gives him is something between pleased and sly. "Sure, I can ask him."
Fucking hell, why were his peers so goddamn nosy? Muttering choice words beneath his breath, Katsuki drops his bag at his desk and goes to the lockers to change into his hero costume.
When he returns, Uravity is on her phone. What the fuck? Wait until I leave the building, goddamn.
"No, Deku, I'm just trying to be thorough," she says quietly. "I promise, I'm not— well, yeah, it's just that they only now worried about it. I guess you've been messaging Bakugo a lot?"
Ugh. Whatever, it's true.
Uravity listens intently for a moment. Then she gasps, her hand covering her mouth. Cheeks bright pink. Eyes sparkling.
Katsuki does not like that reaction.
"I see," she finally says, a wide, giddy grin stretching her mouth. "Uh huh. No, I won't say a word. Promise. Yep. Okay, bye." She ends the call and swivels to look at Katsuki.
"What," he says flatly.
"Oh, nothing big," she says, the glitter in her eyes intensifying as she tries not to burst into laughter. "It was… hmm… I think he said something along the lines of, No, it's not lowering my inhibitions, I'm just really horny now that I know Kacchan finally likes me back but I have to wait until the quirk is gone and ohgodUrarakaI'msosorry!"
Katsuki's jaw drops. Heat creeps up his neck.
"Or, something like that," says Uravity with a wink. "So you two finally talked, huh?"
The fuck did she mean finally?
Katsuki spins on his heel and storms into the hall. His quirk pops off in his palms. "Hawks! Gimme a case, I don't care what! Just get me out of this shitty office!"
Uravity's giggles follow him all the way down the corridor.
***
That evening is an exercise in torture as Deku keeps sending explicit questions and statements while Katsuki's just trying to cook a goddamn meal. He finally snaps and messages back, Holy shit, Deku, are you even eating or sleeping? Fucking cool it! I can't concentrate! I'm gonna end up burning this place down if you keep doing this to me.
He needs a moment to breathe after that. Yes, it's flattering— exciting, even—that Deku feels as intensely as he does. But holy shit, that quirk is relentless.
When he doesn't get a reply, Katsuki begins to worry. And he isn't the worrying type, so he knows that he probably just fucked up.
He types another message. I didn't mean it as stop, nerd. I know it's the quirk.
The reply is instant.
I know, Kacchan. I just. Uh. Kind of got excited that you're so into this that you're saying you can barely cook dinner? It's hot
Oh. Well, then.
A faint smirk tugs his lips. Okay, maybe this isn't so bad. Frustrating, sure, but he's got the day off tomorrow, and with any luck the quirk will be out of Deku's system.
He taps a reply. Yeah, asshole. You know how hard it is to fill out shitty paperwork when I know you're taking another slew of selfies?
Katsuki can practically feel the heat from Deku's blush. Can I tell you a secret? About a time I jerked off to you?
Fuck yeah, he can. Katsuki lets him know as much.
It takes a minute for Deku to reply, but when he does, Katsuki can't help but allow the smirk to take over his face.
Do you remember that time you got sent to deal with a kid's firework quirk that manifested and it shredded your costume? You were yelling about it but I was distracted by your chest because it's just incredible and I hadn't seen you in a while.
He remembers.
Another message quickly follows: But what really got me was when that one intern made a comment about kids being bad about controlling their quirks and that they're purposefully destructive, and you went OFF on him. It's, well, really sexy when you show your other facets of being a hero.
Wait… is that… Katsuki puts his hand to his chest. Did his heart just literally skip a beat? For fucking real?
"Damn you, nerd," he mutters to himself, aware that his smile has softened. "You better not make a sap out of me or I'll kill you."
Another text from Deku: Anyway yeah, I didn't have a fever after that, I kind of just… rubbed one out under the desk.
Oh.
Fuck.
Katsuki looses a breath. He didn't forget how to work his lungs for a moment. Nope. Not him. And anyway, that's not a conscious effort, so there's no way that what Deku admitted was so raw and lewd and hot that it struck the most primal parts of Katsuki's lizard brain.
He messages back. Deku… you're a slut. I'm into it.
He sees the sign of Deku typing back just as the smell of smoke wafts under his nose.
"Shit!" He tosses the phone aside and tries to salvage the meal he's completely forgotten about. Him. Bakugo Katsuki. Getting distracted while cooking.
It's a problem, and if it does burn his apartment down, he'll explode Deku's from the inside out, god damn that thirsty-ass nerd.
***
His day off is eventful, just not in the way Katsuki wants. Not that he's complaining, but if he and Deku keep exchanging dirty texts and pictures like this, they're going to be too chafed and sore to fuck when the quirk does wear off.
So Katsuki tries, really tries, to be reasonable. At least, as reasonable as one can be when lounging on his own couch, dick barely tucked back into his pants, and trying to find the grossest documentary possible to keep his cock in check.
I don't know about you, but my dick's gonna fall off if we keep doing this.
Deku replies instantly. Yeah. Me too.
Katsuki sighs. At least they're on the same page. Then let's talk about something else.
Like what, Kacchan?
Like whatever your shitty head comes up with that isn't even remotely related to us fucking once this is all done, fuck.
It takes too long for Deku to reply. No doubt that single reference got to him.
Sure enough, Deku finally texts back, Sorry. Needed a cold shower.
Katsuki feels that in his bones.
Okay, well… did you know that ducks have corkscrew penises? And female ducks have a reverse corkscrew, so that's pretty rough.
Aloud, Katsuki says, "What the fuck, Deku?"
Well, that killed my boner. Thanks.
Anytime, Kacchan.
Katsuki snorts and shakes his head. Fucking dork.
Oh hey Kacchan, can I ask another favor? A work favor?
He frowns. What is it?
He can feel the sheepish smile Deku's likely wearing. Can you send me the files for requesting a new costume? Mine's way out of spec and I can't find the blank copies on my laptop.
What the hell, asshole. You would be the only fucker dumb enough to make me work on my day off.
I know, I'm sorry! I love you!
Katsuki is
well
wait
he's not really anything because he's pretty sure that his soul just left his body.
Then the phone pings like crazy.
KACCHAN WAIT I'M SO SORRY
THAT'S NOT THE QUIRK PROBABLY I'M JUST USED TO SAYING THAT WHEN I ASK MY MOM FOR FAVORS TOO
PLEASE DON'T BE MAD
KACCHAN I'M REALLY REALLY SORRY
FORGET I SAID ANYTHING
Katsuki rolls into a sitting position. Stares at the screen, knuckles pressed against his mouth. Because… well, wait, how does he feel?
No. That's an easy answer. The hard part is putting the words to screen. He takes a shuddering breath and types quickly.
Fucking whatever nerd, love you too. Shut up and check your email in five minutes.
For a moment, Katsuki could swear he hears a distant, elated shout punch the sky. But, no. That's impossible. And if it isn't, well.
Good for Deku.
Good for him.
Good for them.
***
Katsuki makes it to agency before receiving the news that, in true Deku fashion, he's over the quirk and back on the field the very day after Katsuki's day off. The bastard.
And, of course, it only takes a quick look at the online schedule to see that their nights aren't going to pair up well for a hot minute. Katsuki's got afternoon and evening shifts for the next two weeks, while Deku has the mornings starting tomorrow. Their days off are staggered as well. It's not unusual, but Katsuki is still fucking annoyed
Deku isn't at the morning brief, but he does make it into the office just as Katsuki is heading out for patrol. They only see each other momentarily enough fur Deku to mouth, Sorry, and Katsuki to roll his eyes.
So much for a few days.
If there's one bright side to be found, it's that they're still texting. Not nearly as often, but enough for Katsuki to feel relatively confident that the truth serum quirk hadn't really affected the things Deku told him all that much. Did it force the situation? Yeah. Would they have gone another lifetime stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the feelings and led weird lives of equal misery and satisfaction? Probably.
Was Katsuki going to get a piece of Deku whether it killed him or not either way? Definitely.
One night on patrol, Deku texts him and Katsuki briefly entertains the idea of hopping into the nerd's place and having a quickie. He dismisses it almost immediately. Yes, it's a hot idea. Yeah, it'd probably help at least a little. But fuck no, he's not going to let their first fuck be rushed.
And it's not for lack of temptation on Deku's part.
Katsuki feels his phone vibrate, but doesn't check it until he's finished his first route. It's a goddamn filthy message about the things Deku wants to do to him.
Holy shit, nerd, I'm working.
He hesitates, then immediately sends a follow-up.
Gonna use that for fodder later, though.
Really, that's about all they can do right now.
And then finally, fucking finally, the new schedule is sent to their work emails. Katsuki eyes it on his phone from home, raises an eyebrow, and before he can even exit the app, his phone pings.
Kacchan, Tuesday?
He replies. Where. When.
Ping. My place. 6.
Suddenly, his nerves jangle. This is it. It's been so long that he's almost told himself that this is just a game they're playing but… not anymore.
He texts back.
Leave your door unlocked. Prepare yourself.
***
One aspect of his personality that Katsuki knows is unusual is that he doesn't really get nervous. Not like extras do, anyway, or even like Deku. Katsuki is a natural talent. He knows this. Picks up on shit quickly, just as quickly puts it into action. Whatever.
So it's downright jarring when he shows up at Deku's apartment, as planned on Tuesday evening, and they just sort of… sit there and watch TV. On opposite ends of the couch. Like they haven't known each other for twenty fucking years.
Katsuki isn't even sure what they're allegedly watching. Some cooking show? He hates that shit. But Deku's definitely not watching, his eyes glazed over and fingers nervously rubbing together.
Shit. He needs to break the ice. Why the hell is this so weird?
"Kacchan, toporbottom?"
His head snaps toward Deku so fast that Katsuki's somewhat amazed he didn't give himself whiplash. "What?"
Deku bites his lip, barely looking his way. "Are you… when you thought about us like… were you top or bottom?"
Oh. Well. Right to the point is certainly how Katsuki prefers things to go. He just hadn't expected Deku to be the one to do it.
Slowly, he says, "I'm a switch but for the first time? Top." Deku worries harder at his lip. "You?"
"Top," admits Deku.
"Huh."
"Yeah."
That's… not what he expected. Katsuki just figured Deku would submit to him the first time and they can go from there. It's not the conundrum he's ready for.
He opens his mouth to say so, but Deku suddenly moans and buries his face in his hands. "Oh, god, Kacchan, we're incompatible."
"Huh?"
The dam has burst. "We both wanna top the first time! It's impossible!"
"Deku—"
"Even if we just suck each other off, we're gonna get to the penis in butt part eventually! And we can't do it at the same time, it's anatomically impossible!"
The system is falling apart. "Hey—"
"We're both stubborn so it's just not going to work! Kacchan, I've been masturbating so much, I can't not have sex! And I've seen your dick so it's too late to go back from that. "
"Who—"
"I can't just move on, either! I've been in love with you since we were kids. It just never crossed my mind that this would happen—"
"Deku, shut up!"
Deku gasps for breath. He doesn't exactly shut up, settling for mumbling into his hand, but once that's out of his system, Katsuki can at least think straight.
"What the hell, nerd? Just breathe for a minute." Katsuki grabs him and pulls him closer, all but forcing Deku into his lap while holding him by the face. Those stupid cheeks smoosh between his hands and it's cute enough that he doesn't have an aneurysm, at least. "Listen, asswipe. I thought about topping you more the first time, but like I said: I'm a switch. I'll do either. I don't fucking care whose ass gets it, I just wanna fuck, okay?"
Deku makes little noises in his throat. Then: "... oh…"
"Yeah. Oh." Katsuki sighs, feeling suddenly depleted, and rests his head on Deku's shoulder. "Shit. You're such a pain in my ass."
"I know…" Thank fuck, at least Deku sounds calmer. "Sorry."
Katsuki grunts.
They sit like that for a few minutes, oddly offset by some announcer beginning a countdown for their shitty competition.
Then: "Kacchan?"
"What."
"Um… can…" Deku tightens his arms around him. "Can I… fuck you?"
There's no room left in Katsuki's chest. His heart thumps sideways and his voice comes out thick and shaky. "Yeah."
"Oh. Cool."
He muffled a snort into Deku's shoulder. "Dumbass."
"Yeah…"
"You're not supposed to agree with me."
"Yeah."
"Cheeky shit."
He looks up. Deku meets his eyes, and the look in them closes Katsuki's throat. Those wide green eyes, clear as glass, staring at Katsuki like he's a hero of myth and legend; awe and admiration and softness.
"Hey, Kacchan."
He swallows. "What."
Deku presses closer, a faint pink tinging his cheeks. "You're gorgeous."
Katsuki opens his mouth. Can't think of what to say. For once, Izuku's rendered him speechless.
Apparently, Izuku sees it as an invitation. Not that it isn't. But Katsuki is vaguely surprised when the nerd's eyes lapse shut and they kiss.
The first time was charged with shock and thrill and the heat of emotion. This kiss, however, is… fragile. Izuku's mouth is gentle and inviting and so very cautious, like he worries that Katsuki might crumble to dust. Much as Katsuki wants to prove he won't, he also kind of likes this. He likes that Izuku holds him sweetly; he likes that the kiss is soft and exploratory and starts with an ember that slowly becomes a flame.
It's precious. There's no other word for it.
Izuku laps at his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Katsuki lets him in. Allows the slow slide of their tongues against each other while Izuku's hands trail up both sides of his neck, into his hair. Katsuki has the same idea, and there's something sweet about that, too, because for all Izuku had been having a borderline panic attack over who would be on top, right now they're just here. Izuku threading his fingers through Katsuki's hair, and Katsuki carefully pulling small tangles from Izuku's curls as they move together.
And then… oh. They're moving together. At some point, one of them shifts, and they're made acutely aware of each other's hard-ons.
The oxygen vanishes for a moment.
Katsuki moans first, into Izuku's mouth, and Izuku shudders. Pulls him closer, then pushes him back, undecided, palming down to Katsuki's chest and tracing the collar of his shirt. Then down, so fast, shoving his shirt up and over his head and Katsuki's left to untangle his arms and toss the damn thing while Izuku turns his entire attention to Katsuki's torso. Kissing his pecs, thumbing a nipple, trailing fingers across his abs until Katsuki is the one shivering and gasping and making little noises in his throat. It's not what he's ever imagined, but it's perfect.
"Izuku," he whispers.
A strangled gasp answers. Izuku sits straight up, stares at him. And… oh. Huh. At some point, this stupid, sexy nerd became Izuku instead of Deku. How about that.
"Okay?" Katsuki's voice is hoarse.
Izuku nods.
Covering his hands, Katsuki says, "Then don't stop."
Still nodding— he hadn't stopped, really— Izuku presses his lips to Katsuki's throat. Licks him tentatively. Then begins to wetly mouth his way down, sliding his hands from under Katsuki's to continue exploring. He shifts forward in Katsuki’s lap, grinding their clothed cocks together, and Katsuki is lost. He doesn't want to be found. Not when Izuku is the one who took him here.
Their mouths meet again, a little heavier, a little more desperate. Their hips rock, uneven and unable to find a rhythm at first, but gradually getting there. Too slow to come, but enough to keep that borderline annoying, outright pleasurable friction between them.
"Kacchan," gasps Izuku. He grips Katsuki's shoulders and alters his position, grinding down on him. "You're so pretty. So, so pretty."
If anyone else calls him that, he's knocking their fucking heads off. Izuku gets a pass. Barely.
(Okay, overtly. Each time Izuku calls him pretty, Katsuki gets harder and moans again.)
"Hey." Katsuki tugs at Izuku's shirt. "Wanna see." He shivers. "Touch me."
A faint whimper escapes Izuku. He complies, tugging his shirt off and all but sealing their bodies together. Mouths, chests, hands—everything is touching. Hot and damp and the flame is feeding off their energy, swelling into a fire. It burns from the inside out and Katsuki is getting addicted.
He runs his hand down Izuku's right shoulder, over the massive scar that takes up a fourth of his arm. A testament to his strength and grit; things that keep him alive against impossible odds and keep him going, running after and then beside Katsuki. He loves Izuku's scars. The stories they tell.
He loves even more how Izuku wears them as a reminder of his failures; a permanent mark to keep him on his toes and more careful. It took him for-fucking-ever to get there, but he's so much better off.
Then, fierce, he grasps Izuku's hips and grinds. Izuku gasps and clutches at him for support. "Kacchan!"
Katsuki groans and buries his face in Izuku's neck. He'll bottom happily, but if Izuku thinks he's not going to push back at least a little, he's sorely mistaken.
Then he bites the muscle between Izuku's neck and shoulder and the pure, lustful moan that erupts from Izuku's chest is absolute intoxication. Katsuki wants to hear it again. So he bites down, again, and Izuku writes against him. "Ohh, god. Kacchan, oh my god…"
Katsuki flattens his tongue over the rising bruise. Licks him. Then utters in Izuku's ear, hoarse, "You gonna fuck me or what?"
"Yes, yes, I am, yes, fuck." The expletive is so sudden and hot that Katsuki has a momentary fear that he'll come like this.
But then Izuku rips free with a gasp. Green electricity crackles; the smell of ozone. Katsuki is weightless, then crashing to something soft and holy shit did Izuku just use One for All to shove them into the bedroom, that's so sexy.
Izuku pins him to the mattress. He's a fucking beautiful mess; chest heaving, sweat dampening tendrils of green curls to his face, eyes bright with wisps of One for All and sheer, unbridled lust.
"You're so mean, Kacchan," he whispers, then all but tears Katsuki's pants off. Underwear and all. "I wanna be gentle. Wanna be good to you." He plunges his tongue into Katsuki's mouth before he has a chance to respond. "Wanna treasure you." His hand wraps around Katsuki's dick, giving a firm stroke, wrangling a cry from Katsuki's throat. "And I wanna ruin you. "
"Fucking do it, ruin me," gasps Katsuki.
"Let me."
Oh, shit. This is beyond hot. Unable to think, barely able to breathe, Katsuki nods and slumps into the mattress, signaling his give.
A slow, satisfied sigh ribbons from Izuku. He nuzzles Katsuki's cheek. Kisses the corner of his mouth. Slowly, gently, strokes upward, his grip on his cock firm and just a little calloused and so sweet that Katsuki is on fucking fire.
Izuku moans softly into his ear. "So pretty, Kacchan." He kisses down, giving special attention to his chest, the sharp indent of muscle. Presses his lips so softly to Katsuki's nipples. "Pretty…"
"Nngh…" What are words? Katsuki barely remembers. Maybe Izuku’s idiocy is contagious.
Eh. Worth it.
Soft lips over his skin, trailing down. Katsuki can’t help his breath hitching as Izuku closes in on his cock. Suddenly Katsuki is overwhelmed with the need to see.
He props himself up on his elbows and, oh, yes, the sight is everything. Izuku mouthing along his lower stomach, his inner thigh, his lashes trembling against his flushed cheeks as he cradles Katsuki's throbbing dick in his right hand.
Air expels from his chest. "Fuck, Izuku, you’re beautiful."
Izuku's eyes pop open, and the look he gives him is just… exquisite. Surprised and pleased and wanting and hungry.
"Kacchan," he murmurs, and then takes the head of his cock into his mouth and suckles.
It's… Katsuki doesn't even know. His chin falls to his chest as he pants. Need scorches him from the inside, spreading across his skin in pink pleasure. The hot wetness of Izuku's mouth is incredible, and he's still just at the tip, lips sealed around him, his tongue rubbing in and around the slit and Katsuki begins to tremble. The sight, the feel, the heady smell of Izuku, of his sweat and soap and that damn floral shampoo…
Then Izuku takes him in more, inch by desperate inch. Katsuki whines. Hips squirming. Resisting the urge to tangle his hands in Izuku’s hair and shove .
His restraint is rewarded when his cock rubs against the silky back of Izuku's throat.
"Oh, fuck," he moans, arms finally giving out. Izuku responds with a sensual drag up, and back down, spit slick, hot. "Fuck, Izuku, that's… god, that feels so good…"
Izuku moans around his dick, sending a new wave of pleasure through Katsuki's body, from his core and spreading to each nerve tip. He keeps up that torturous pace, leaving Katsuki gulping and gasping for air. Slowly eroding at his vocabulary.
"Izuku… shit… like that… Izuku, fuck."
"Mmm…" Izuku pulls back, taking a few moments to swirl his tongue under and over the head of his dick before leaving off. It's messy, saliva and pre-cum all over his face. "Kacchan, you taste so good."
Katsuki is still trying to recover his wits. He reaches for Izuku, uncaring that he looks like a toddler making grabby hands, and Izuku all but leaps up to meet him. Tongues and lips and teeth, wet moans, the taste of himself and Izuku so fucking good and more right than anything he's ever tasted before.
He breaks the kiss, voice coarse. "Bet you taste just as good."
Izuku’s eyes flash. He gathers his legs under Katsuki's, and Katsuki can't help but think, Fuck, those thighs, I wanna bite them, and then Izuku is grasping Katsuki beneath both knees and pushing them up toward his chest. Spreading him wide open, exposing every intimate part of him. It's sudden and humiliating and intimate and Katsuki is slammed with the need to be fucked.
It doesn't help that Izuku stares at him like he's devouring Katsuki with his eyes. His breaths begin to shallow. One hand drifts down the back of Katsuki's leg, over the lower curve of his ass. Fingers spreading, his thumb gently pressing beside the taut bundle of nerves there.
Shit. It's slow and good and Katsuki wants to yell in frustration.
"Kacchan, I think you have the prettiest asshole," says Izuku with zero hesitation or shame.
It's ridiculous—and hot. And embarrassing. Katsuki's beginning to wonder if he may have a humiliation kink. He never let any past lovers close enough to let it cross his mind.
"So, so pretty," murmurs Izuku. His tongue flicks over his lower lip, eyes half-lidded. "Kacchan, can I eat you out?"
Oh.
Okay.
That's the sound of Katsuki's sanity breaking.
"Please," he barely manages to gasp.
Izuku licks his lips again. Moans, almost slumping into himself as though he's been battling a great demon. Then he eases back, grasps Katsuki's ass in both hands. Thumbs on either side, spreading him that much more.
And dives right in.
Here's another thing Katsuki’s quite aware of about himself: he enjoys sex. He's eaten his fair share of ass, though hasn't particularly cared for it one way or another. And he's had dick inside him, though hasn't ever really allowed someone else to have the control of hovering over him. He likes sex. He's willing to try most things. No big deal.
As it turns out, Izuku slurping and shoveling his tongue into Katsuki’s asshole, moaning like he's the one being treated to a good time… that's a huge fucking deal. And Katsuki is pretty sure he's never been this hard or this vulnerable.
He slams his head back to the bed, barely remembering to grip his legs so they don't fall and put an unfortunate end to this good time. "Holy shit, Izuku!"
The sounds Izuku makes while tonguing him are downright pornographic. Katsuki can't even remember to clench his teeth, too busy trying not to thrash his legs and unable to keep himself from praising Izuku. He never would have guessed this was a thing for him. Never. But for all Izuku's stuttering and blushing and shyness, the man is filthy and Katsuki loves it.
"Fuck. Fuck. Izuku. That's so… fucking good. Shit. Izuku, your mouth, fuck."
Humming with pleasure, Izuku continues his onslaught. Katsuki feels his shake. He's weakening against this attack. It came out if fucking nowhere.
Then Izuku pops up, gasping. Spittle is all over his face, dripping from his chin. Katsuki shudders.
It's dirty. Brush your teeth.
He grasps Izuku and edges him up for a kiss.
Izuku stiffens, apparently as surprised as Katsuki is at himself, but he quickly adapts, ravaging Katsuki's mouth. It's a strange flavor and mindfuck in its own right, and he can't see himself doing it often, but right this second, it's intimate and dirty and so incredibly satisfying.
Katsuki breaks free, panting. "Izuku. Mouthwash."
Izuku blinks and then bursts into a giggle. His smile is sweet and affectionate. "Be right back."
Good. Now Katsuki can get the part over with that he knows Izuku will take too damn long with.
It takes no time at all to find the lube—in the drawer right next to the bed, pretty fucking predictable—and he squirts it onto his fingers, taking no time to warm anything before he leans back and shoves two straight into his ass.
He’d done some prep before coming over, so it isn’t too bad. Quickly begins to feel good, even. Katsuki swallows a groan and adds a third finger. He doesn’t care. Does not. Just needs Izuku to fuck him, immediately.
He’s fairly well stretched when it occurs to him that Izuku should’ve been back by now. He glances toward the door, his chest tightening to find Izuku just… standing there.
Izuku blinks as though coming out of a daze. He meets Katsuki’s eyes, cheeks flushed, and says, “Why’d you stop?”
Okay. So Katsuki’s got to make a list later of all the surprises and turn-ons they’re figuring out here, because voyeurism is going to rocket to damn near the top.
Katsuki eases back a little, spreading his fingers, watching for Izuku’s reaction. He shudders, and for the first time Katsuki can see the bottle of mouthwash barely dangling from one hand.
“Well,” he says, smirking when Izuku looks back at his face. “What do you think?” He spreads his fingers again, tugging gently at the rim and listening to the squelch of his fingers and lube. “Loose enough yet?”
Izuku drops the mouthwash. Climbs onto the bed. Mint wafts over Katsuki as Izuku’s breathing shortens, and he leans down to inspect.
“Yeah,” whispers Izuku. He bites his lip. Looks up. “I wanna fuck you.”
Katsuki hums softly, easing his fingers out. Wiping them on Izuku’s discarded pants, because fuck it, it’s his apartment and he can do laundry anytime. Then meets Izuku’s heated gaze. “How do you want me, Izuku?”
Something between a moan and a whine spills from Izuku’s lips. “On your knees first. I wanna watch how well you take my cock.”
With. Fucking. Pleasure.
Katsuki hasn’t ever quite done this, but there’s no hesitation and zero vulnerability (after having his ass eaten? please ) as he spreads his knees into a comfortable position.
Izuku is on him instantly. Rubbing his sides, leaning over him, biting up and down his back in short, sharp nips. Panting, his abdomen sliding along Katsuki’s spine, his dick hard and hot and jabbing against his ass, between his thighs, and then a slip between the cheeks, missing his lubricated hole, and they both tumble into a faintly animalistic rut.
Then, hands firming, Izuku grasps Katsuki’s hips and pushes himself up. “Gonna fuck you.”
Katsuki groans. “Shut up and do it the— FUCK!”
Izuku didn’t wait for him to finish, shoving in hard and deep and it’s a damn good thing that Katsuki knows how to prep himself thoroughly because if he hadn’t, it might have hurt. Just hurt. As it is, it’s deliciously brutal.
“Kacchan, oh god, Kacchan, so hot, so soft, oh god,” whimpers Izuku as he finishes the first full fuck. Mercifully, he stops there, arms clutching Katsuki to his torso as they both struggle to regain their bearings.
He’s so full. So fucking full. And it’s perfect. It doesn’t hurt, it’s not so big that he can’t stand the idea of Izuku moving, but he feels like Izuku is flooding his senses and it’s just. Holy shit. No words are left. He’s essentially used them all at this point.
Though he waits for Katsuki to adjust, Izuku doesn’t shut up—and for once, Katsuki has no intention of telling him to. “So good. Kacchan, oh my god.” He litters wet kisses along the back of Katsuki’s neck, down his shoulder. “You’re so soft. Tight. I’ve never… oh, god, I never could’ve imagined…”
Yeah. That’s a mood.
Katsuki groans and shifts his hips a little, savoring the little whine Izuku emits. Hmm… yeah, that’s good. He’s good.
“Izuku,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against his arms. “Move.”
For all Izuku babbled about wanting to take things slow earlier, he does not hold back once he has permission. He withdraws, not too fast, but the shove back in is a bit, and Katsuki bites his arm to keep from screaming. He doesn’t want Izuku to stop, to worry about him.
“Kacchan, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
The desperation is enough to jolt Katsuki out of his haze. “Izuku, don’t stop, for fucking fuck’s sake just fuck me until I can’t even remember my name!”
Izuku takes a sharp breath. Shifts. His grip changes, tighter. Nails pinching.
And he fucks Katsuki.
It’s nothing like riding dick. Izuku presses him down, uses his weight, the shuddering thrust of his hips, thighs flexing against Katsuki with each movement. His arms encircle Katsuki, making his breaths even shallower and harder to let out full cries. It’s like delirium. Mind-altering bliss and roughness and the pain is precisely the right flavor of spice.
Then Izuku strikes his prostate and Katsuki is a puddle. His arms completely give out, legs only held up with Izuku’s help. Whatever sounds he’s making, he can’t tell, because Izuku’s got precision aim. The air is punched out of Katsuki with each thrust, and he feels like Izuku is literally fucking him into the bed.
Katsuki finally remembers that he needs to breathe. He turns his head to the side, gulping in air, and then Izuku’s hand is on his scalp, pushing his bangs back. Without pause, he’s thrusting into Katsuki, whimpering, moaning, stammering his name and more senseless babble about how pretty Katsuki is.
It’s so much. His chest hurts.
“Kacchan, Kacchan,” Izuku gasps, whines his name. Reaches around to grasp Katsuki’s neglected cock, hitting his prostate at the same time. Overwhelming. He’s this close to orgasm. And Katsuki is losing his mind, shuddering violently. He’s masturbated so much recently that it’s just building and building and building.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Izuku, coming, shit—!”
Izuku buries his face between Katsuki’s shoulders. “Come, Kacchan, come on me, I wanna come in you, please.”
Katsuki arches violently. His dick pulses, and as though all he needed was Izuku’s permission, he spurts everywhere. Unable to even cry out, all sound tangled in his throat as it feels like he can’t stop. Izuku mumbles his name breathlessly, and then it’s just hot. They feverishly rut against each other, against the bed, until both come to shivering, mindless stops, unable to tell one apart from the other.
Dick still twitching, Katsuki is fairly certain he’s given everything he can. But Izuku’s hand is still on him, albeit gentler, thumb absently rubbing over the slit as a little more leaks out.
Damn.
Damn.
Izuku stirs to life first. “Kacchan, gonna pull out.”
Katsuki grunts. He doesn’t think he can do words yet. Words are complicated.
He does, however, hiss when Izuku pulls out. It stings a bit. Shit. He’s gonna feel that in the morning.
“Oh, wow.” Izuku sounds distantly amazed. “A lot came out, huh, Kacchan?”
Katsuki groans. “Shut it… gonna make me horny again…”
A disbelieving wheeze sounds above him. “I can’t.”
“Nn. Shut up then.”
Cold washes over him as the bed creaks. Izuku leaves, and Katsuki may fall asleep for a minute. Or he passes out. Whatever. One in the same right now.
He jolts awake when something wet and warm wipes over his ass. “Shhh, it’s okay,” whispers Izuku. “Just cleaning you up.”
Okay… this part is nice. The being taken care of. It still rubs him the wrong way, in the manner of something he’s used to rejecting just being offered, without any strings attached. But from Izuku… yeah, he can get used to it. With time.
Once Izuku’s done, Katsuki rolls over and grabs him. Yanks him back onto the bed, mess and all, and shoves his face into the nerd’s mess of curls. Breathes him in.
Much better.
“Kacchan,” murmurs Izuku, his hand gliding over his side. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, shut up. Sleepy.”
He feels Izuku smile against his collar bone. “You’re staying the night?”
“The fuck?” Katsuki clings to him even tighter. “You want me to walk home after you just wrecked me, asshole?”
“No, no, of course not!” He can feel Izuku’s shoulders quiver with barely contained laughter. “Stay, Kacchan. Please.”
“Gonna.”
“Okay.”
“Nerd.”
Izuku presses a kiss to his chest, looping an arm over Katsuki’s side. “Good night, Kacchan.”
He doesn’t answer, content to just breathe Izuku in. Now he smells of Katsuki, too, of the sex they just had, and it lights a primal sort of pride in his core.
That’s how Katsuki learns that he’s a little possessive, too. Who knew?