Archive of Our Own ^beta

Any day that begins with Katsuki spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground is bound to be a good one.

“Kacchan,” Deku pants, laughter in his voice. He’s doubled over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “One day they’re going to stop letting us come back, and then where are we gonna spar?”

It’s true. They’ve left the training grounds in shambles, again.

He wipes his bloody lip on his arm and considers Deku’s point very carefully. He considers Deku’s voice, which has deepened with age. He considers Deku’s broad shoulders and narrow waist. His stocky, sculpted frame. His hard, muscular thighs which could – quite literally – stop a train.

Deku stands up straight, chest out and hands on his hips, consciously or unconsciously mimicking All Might’s posture. A slight smirk plays over his lips, and his hair – long enough to tie back – is coming loose, a few strands of dark green curls making a break for freedom.

Yes, he’ll do, Katsuki thinks. He’ll do just fine.

“Hey, nerd,” he says. “Have sex with me.”

Deku’s expression freezes on his face. Whether it’s because of what Katsuki said, or because of his smirk – red-tinged and terrifying – is anyone’s guess.

“W— what?” He shifts into his battle stance, fists up. “Is this a new diversion tactic?”

“No,” Katsuki says, and removes his gauntlets, placing them on the ground. Deku’s fists go down, and his eyebrows go up. “I’m a virgin and I don’t want to be anymore. Have sex with me.”

“Wow. You’re really—” Deku hasn’t blushed like that since they were in high school. Katsuki feels his lips draw back from his teeth in a predatory smile. “How are you still— not that there’s anything wrong with not— but you’re so— and—”

“I didn’t have time and I didn’t want anyone,” Katsuki interrupts. “But I’ve done everything else I needed to do. I’m a hero. I’m at the top of the rankings. I’m rich as fuck. And now I want to have sex. With you.”

Deku slowly draws closer, step by step, crossing the ruined battlefield until he and Katsuki are nearly chest to chest.

“Why me?” he says, breathless. His big green eyes are glued to Katsuki’s face in a way that reminds Katsuki of when they were little, before everything changed between them. Back when Deku looked at Katsuki like he was the most amazing thing in this world and every other.

It makes Katsuki feel invincible.

“Because,” he says, “you’re the best.”

He grins down at all those ridiculous freckles. At that ridiculously pretty mouth that’s going to be wrapped around his dick before the day’s over. Yeah. He’s made the right choice. He’s very satisfied with himself.

Deku blinks at him. Blinks again, and gives a little shake of his head, as if to clear it.

“The best… what?” Deku asks.

“What do you mean, what?” Katsuki says, and counts off his points on his fingers: “You’re the only hero who’s my equal. You’re smarter, stronger, and more powerful than anyone in the industry, other than me. Everyone else is leagues behind us.”

Deku is… no longer looking at Katsuki like he’s amazing. His jaw has dropped a little. He takes a step back, putting space between them, which irritates Katsuki. Katsuki steps forward, closing the gap, but Deku pulls away again. Fucking stubborn asshole, what else is new?

“So you’re saying,” Deku says, “that we should sleep together because we’re the top two heroes, and no one else is good enough for you?”

“Exactly!”

Deku closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“So?”

“No!”

“What? You’re saying you don’t want this hot ass?” Katsuki snaps, offended. “Everyone else does!”

“That’s not what I— that is, um—”

“You dating someone?”

But there’s no way. When Deku’s not working, he spends all his time with Katsuki and a handful of people from Class 1-A. Katsuki would know if Deku had anyone. He doesn’t. He just doesn’t. And if he does, Katsuki will find that person and crush them.

To his relief, Deku says, “Ha! No, I’m not, but—”

“Are you not gay?” Katsuki shoots back. “I’ll fix that.”

“I’m bi, not that it’s any of your—”

Katsuki throws his hands up in frustration. “Then what’s your problem?”

“Kacchan, can you just… listen to yourself?” Deku says, desperation creeping into his voice. “You can’t just decide to be with me because of our hero stats!”

“Why not!”

Deku makes a strangled noise. He takes several deep breaths and turns his eyes skyward, as if praying to All Might for patience.

“So if Shouto was number one, you’d be having this conversation with him?” Deku asks.

“First of all,” Katsuki tells him, “that would never happen.”

Icyhot at number one? As if.

“Second,” Katsuki continues, “You’re not number one. I’m number one.”

“That was last week, Kacchan,” Deku says, coolly. He’s regained his composure, which only makes Katsuki more annoyed. “I see you haven’t checked the rankings this morning.”

“You gonna answer me or what?” Katsuki forces the question out through gritted teeth.

Deku laughs. Katsuki has heard Deku laugh a million times – during particularly exhilarating battles, after hard-earned victories, over interviews with fawning reporters, at dinner with Katsuki and their friends. That laugh has been part of the soundtrack of Katsuki’s life, and he’s heard so many versions of it at so many ages. As small children, as teens butting heads at UA, as grown adults living their lives side-by-side.

But he’s never heard that laugh sound so sad.

“I can’t believe,” Deku says, and stops. “I thought you finally—”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Deku wipes all traces of emotion from his face. He regards Katsuki with a look of detached politeness that makes his skin crawl. “Thank you, Kacchan, but I have to decline.”

#

“You said what to him?” Eijirou says, once he’s recovered from his coughing fit. He’d nearly choked on his pork ramen. Katsuki glares at his own bowl, stabbing at the noodles with his chopsticks.

“So what?” Katsuki says. “We’re adults, right? We can talk about sex. What did I say that was so wrong?”

Eijirou does that thing where he seems to consider and discard a vast array of responses, weighing each of them against the look on Katsuki’s face. It pisses Katsuki off, but not nearly as much as Denki and Mina – perched at the bar on Eijirou’s other side – who are quaking with suppressed laughter. Denki’s face is buried in his folded arms, and Mina has both hands clamped over her mouth. Her pink face is red with mirth.

“For one thing,” Eijirou begins, cautiously, “I don’t know if it was the best idea to call him a nerd as part of your opening gambit.”

“But he is a nerd. I’m not going to lie and pretend I don’t think he’s a nerd just to get him to sleep with me. That would be wrong.”

At this, Mina’s laughter bursts through her hands. She collapses, pressing her forehead against the counter, and howls.

“M-Mina,” Denki sputters, through his own stupid giggles. “D-D-Don’t… Y-You should… be n-nice… he’s— he’s— he’s trying!”

“Thanks, dipshit,” Katsuki tells him. “Stellar defense. Massively appreciated.”

Eijirou sighs. Mina’s head pops up. She turns to Katsuki, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Couldn’t you have just asked him on a date like a normal person?” she says, still snickering.

“Sounds like a waste of time."

“Okay, then think of it this way.” She leans forward, past Eijirou, so she can look Katsuki directly in the eye. “What have you got to make a fling with you worth his while?”

Katsuki flares up. Not literally. Okay, there might be a few sparks in his palms, but he’s grown a lot since his UA days, so he doesn’t blow up the whole ramen joint on the spot.

“What’ve I got?” he repeats. “I’m sexy as fuck. I’m tough. I’m rich and successful. I—”

“See, that’s your problem,” Mina says. “You’re thinking about all the things you value. What does Izuku value in a partner?”

“We’re just going to fuck, it’s not like we’re getting married—”

“And do you think Izuku doesn’t have a million admirers who are sexy and tough and successful?” Mina barrels on, refusing to let him interrupt. “People who are just as appealing as you are, who are more experienced, who don’t call him names, and who're willing to put a little more effort in?”

Katsuki grinds his teeth. None of them get it. This should be so simple. He just wants to lose his stupid virginity to stupid Deku. He was honestly expecting Deku to be a little smug about the whole thing, maybe to needle him about still being a virgin – Deku mouths off at him more than anyone else Katsuki knows. He’s way past his meek school days.

And he knows it’s not an issue of attraction. For a minute there, before their conversation somehow went off the rails, Deku looked undeniably interested. Hell, he’d been downright horny! For Katsuki! He knows he didn’t imagine that.

Could Mina be right? 

“So you’re saying… Deku’s playing hard to get.”

“I— No. No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It makes sense. We don’t just hand things to each other. No one wants to win like that, yeah?” Katsuki nods, warming to this line of reasoning. “It’s not that he doesn’t want me, he just won’t go down without a fight!”

Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense. He grins at nothing in particular. See, this is exactly why he picked Deku. He can make even something as mundane as sex into a thrill, a competition.

“Yo, can you stop, uh, smiling like that?” Denki says. “You look like you’re plotting a murder.”

“Shut up.”

#

As a kid, Deku was adorable, with those innocent eyes, that mop of curly hair, those freckles. As a man, he’s devastating.

He’s still got a sweetness to his face, but none of the boyish roundness. He’s fit as fuck, and he dresses impeccably, always polished, always prepared to be cornered by the media. Comes with the territory when you’re number one-or-two-depending-on-the-week.

He’s gained confidence with age, too. He hardly ever stutters or cries anymore, only does his weird mumbling thing around his closest friends, and he has presence. As a hero, he’s reassuring – it comes up all the time in interviews with civilians caught in disasters or villain attacks. They all say the same thing: when Deku shows up on the scene, he gives them hope. He makes them feel like everything’s going to be okay. He takes control, and he takes care of everyone. That’s part of his appeal, part of why magazines are always calling him the hero industry’s “Most Eligible Bachelor” or chasing after him with proposals for sultry photoshoots he always turns down. Because he looks good, and he also makes people feel good, and he makes it all seem effortless.

Who would’ve thought the scrawny, nervous wreck Katsuki picked on in middle school would turn into this?

So it’s not like Katsuki never noticed that Deku’s a good-looking bastard. He did. But low-level attraction to Deku has always been part of his world, no more worth commenting on than the sky being blue or rain being wet. It’s just there. It’s always just been there. And there’s always been more important things to worry about.

Now, years after the rest of class 1-A got their fill of ogling, lusting after, or crushing on their golden boy, Katsuki finds himself obsessing over all the things he never allowed himself to give any thought to. The breadth of Deku’s hands. The scars painted over his arms and back. The way his hair falls into his face, which shouldn’t be mesmerizing but is. How his body moves when he walks, when he fights. His ass in that costume—

Yeah. Katsuki has a lot to think about. Including what he learned from his talk with Mina.

He waits a couple of weeks to approach Deku again. In the end, he makes his move at one of class 1-A’s monthly get-togethers at Uraraka, Jirou, and Hagakure’s place. It’s supposed to be a movie night, but as usual, the movie goes unwatched in the background because they’re all too busy gossiping, arguing, or occasionally throwing popcorn at each other to pay much attention. Eventually, Denki steals the popcorn bowl and upends it on Sero’s head, while Jirou shrieks about crumbs in the carpet and Iida attempts to calm the rest of them down as they roar with laughter. So a pretty tame night, all around.

Deku gets up from his spot next to his precious fucking Shouto, saying, “Looks like we need a refill,” and shuffles off to the kitchen, a smile tugging at his lips. Katsuki slips away after him. No one’s really paying attention to him, so he gets no commentary, not even a knowing glance from Eijirou.

He finds Deku rooting around in the cabinets, arms lifted, so that his shirt rides up and exposes a tantalizing sliver of skin. Turns out Deku has dimples on his lower back. Katsuki wonders how Deku would react if he just grabbed him by the waist and bit him there. Not well, probably, but it might just be worth it.

He decides to keep his baser instincts in check, for now.

“Deku,” he says, his voice low. Deku jumps, nearly braining himself on the cabinet door, and whirls around.

“Oh. Hey, Kacchan,” he says, returning to his hunt for more popcorn.

“Hey. Come home with me.”

“What, for a sleepover?” Deku makes a triumphant noise as he finds the popcorn box, but it’s empty. He huffs and tosses it in the recycling bin.

“No. Come home with me to fuck.”

Deku turns back to him, finally giving Katsuki his full attention. “This again?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki leans against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “You still pretending you’re not interested?”

Deku doesn’t check him out, but if Katsuki’s not mistaken, it’s taking him a little too much concentration to keep his eyes on Katsuki’s face. He can work with that.

“Interested isn’t a yes,” Deku says.

“What’ll it take to turn it into a yes?”

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Not from you.” He shoves off the door frame and stalks into the kitchen. “‘Cause when have you ever backed down from a challenge? It’s not like you. It’s weird as fuck.”

“Kacchan,” Deku says, in a gentle, patient way that makes Katsuki wanna kick his ass. “This isn’t a challenge.”

“Ain’t it, though?” He gets close enough to where he can tower over Deku. It doesn’t mean much, but Katsuki cherishes the few inches he still has on the little loser. “So what’s wrong? You got a problem, say it. You got a good reason to turn me down, say it.”

Deku laughs in his face. For someone so good-looking, Deku has the most obnoxious laugh on the fucking planet, a cackle that’s like glass shards being rammed into Katsuki’s ears.

“What would your highness consider a good reason?” Deku asks. Katsuki glares at him. Deku calls him that sometimes, teasing him about going by ‘King Explosion Murder’ back in high school.

“Don’t know,” Katsuki says, slightly annoyed his height isn’t giving him the advantage over Deku he hoped it would. “I’ll know it when I hear it.”

Deku rolls his eyes, leaning back against the counter and tilting his head thoughtfully up at Katsuki. “Wait, so… you haven’t had sex yet?”

“Are you kidding? We went over this last time!”

“No, but… when I turned you down, I figured you’d go find someone else. But it’s been weeks, and you— you haven’t.”

“I told you I won’t settle for anything but the best.”

Deku bites his lip. His expression flickers into something Katsuki can’t read.

“You really want this, huh?” he says, quietly. “With me.”

Katsuki scowls. “Don’t do me any favors, asshole. And don’t act like you don’t want it, too!”

To prove his point, he grips the counter on either side of Deku’s body, trapping him between Katsuki’s arms, their chests brushing. Deku could easily push him off, but he doesn’t. His green eyes are huge and dark as he looks up at Katsuki.

Testing the waters, Katsuki leans closer, closer, until his lips skim against Deku’s. Deku’s breath hitches. He doesn’t pull away.

Katsuki presses in, kissing Deku for real. It’s Katsuki’s first real kiss ever. Deku’s lips are a little chapped, but warm, and he smells familiar. When Deku kisses him back, a jolt runs through his whole body. Deku’s lips part, and Katsuki follows his lead, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes into Katsuki’s mouth, warm and wet, tasting of the beer Deku was drinking earlier.

Pleased with this turn of events, Katsuki angles his head so he can press into Deku, licking at his bottom lip, at his teeth. Their mouths slide together hotly. It’s shockingly good. He feels a little drunk on how good it is. Deku’s hands slide up Katsuki’s shoulders, into his hair—

And then a bout of renewed laughter from the living room reminds them both where they are. They jump apart as if electrocuted.

Deku laughs nervously. “Um,” he says, turning back to the cabinets. He grabs a couple of bags of chips off a shelf, seemingly at random.

Katsuki licks the taste of Deku off his lips, smirking at the back of his fluffy green head.

“Come home with me,” he says, again.

He can’t see Deku’s expression, and he can’t read any emotion in Deku’s voice when he says: “Just for fun. Just… for sex, right?”

“Obviously,” Katsuki says.

Deku glances at him over his shoulder, and Katsuki sees when his resolve crumbles. Resolve over what, Katsuki doesn’t know, but it’s gone.

Finally, Deku nods.

#

They barely manage to make it to Katsuki’s door before they’re on each other again, picking up right where they left off in Uraraka’s kitchen.

He shoves Deku inside, kicks the door shut behind him, and fumbles one-handed for the lock, all without detaching his mouth from Deku’s. A pair of strong hands cup the back of Katsuki’s neck, forcing him to bend down to Deku’s level. Deku moans against his lips.

Yes, Katsuki thinks, licking into Deku’s mouth. Finally.

The lock clicks into place. Katsuki wastes no time getting his hands on that perfectly round ass and hoisting him up, urging him to wrap his gorgeous thighs around Katsuki’s hips. Deku gasps into the kiss. Katsuki smirks, even as he finds his lips being bitten and sucked with renewed fervor.

Bet there’s not many people who can pick you up that easily, huh, Deku? he thinks, smug. Deku is not light. The man is pure muscle, from head to toe. But Katsuki still has the height and weight advantage on him, still has him beat when it comes to raw, quirk-less strength.

“Kacchan,” Deku breathes. “Bedroom. Now.”

“Bossy,” he mutters, and Deku responds with a playful nip to his bottom lip that turns into a long, slow, maddeningly hot kiss, Deku’s tongue lapping into his mouth like he intends to drink up every last ounce of Katsuki.

He squeezes his two handfuls of ass and walks blindly to his room, where he tosses Deku on the bed. Deku bounces back on his elbows. Katsuki makes to follow him, but he holds up a hand to stop him.

“Strip,” Deku orders.

“You strip,” he growls back on instinct.

“Race?”

They stare each other down for a split second, and then they’re each tearing off their own clothes. Katsuki honestly has no idea who wins the “race,” because as soon as Deku’s naked, all other thoughts in his mind get wiped the fuck out. Boom. Just like that. No survivors. Nothing coherent to be found anywhere in Katsuki’s head, just Deku’s heaving, lightly furred chest and his thick thighs parted slightly and his erection hanging heavy between them, dark with blood and stocky just like the rest of Deku is.

“Stay right there,” Katsuki tells him. He grabs the bottle of lube from his nightstand before crawling onto the bed, advancing on Deku.

“No way you’re topping, first-timer,” Deku says. “Why don’t you lie back and let me show you how it’s done?”

“Why don’t you make me?”

That’s how they end up wrestling atop the mattress. Deku pins Katsuki down with his wrists over his head, Deku’s ankles locked around his knees. But then Katsuki flips them, locking Deku’s arms behind his back and pressing his chest down into the sheets. Half of Deku’s face is hidden against the mattress; the other half surveys Katsuki with a gleam in his dark green eye. But Katsuki miscalculated: he shouldn’t have focused so hard on getting Deku’s torso pinned when he knows the fucker’s legs are the real threat. Sure enough, Deku pulls off a complicated twist and roll motion that ends with him on top, Katsuki on his back, and one of Katsuki’s legs slung over his shoulder. And before Katsuki can retaliate, Deku sucks wetly at his own thumb and pops it into Katsuki’s asshole, casual as anything.

Katsuki gasps. Or it’s more like a wheeze, really, because wow, that feels weird.

“Like that?” Deku checks, and Katsuki knows that if he said no, Deku would back down immediately and let him top. But then Deku’s thumb tugs at the rim of his hole, and his breath punches out of him, mingled with the beginnings of a moan.

“I… I don’t know,” Katsuki admits, far more honestly than he intended. “Maybe?”

“I’ll take it slow,” Deku says. He smiles reassuringly, presses a kiss to Katsuki’s knee. “We can stop anytime you want and try something else, okay?”

“I don’t need you to go slow, Deku!”

“Who said it was for you? Maybe I like it slow.” His lips brush against Katsuki’s knee again with deceptive gentleness, only to pull back so his teeth can sink into his skin in a stinging bite. Katsuki jerks under Deku’s hands. Asshole, he thinks, glaring up at him and trying very hard to ignore the fact that he's even harder now. He feels a flush spread down his face and over his chest as Deku laps soothingly at the imprint his teeth left. The sight of that pink tongue running over his skin makes heat pool in his stomach. 

Deku reaches over Katsuki’s head to swipe up the abandoned bottle of lube. He slathers his fingers in it.

“I don’t need prep,” Katsuki says stubbornly. “I can take it like a man.”

“Worried you won’t last?”

“The hell? Of course I can fucking— holy shit—“

Deku has just slid his index finger inside Katsuki’s ass to the knuckle. His hole clenches instinctively around the intrusion. Then Deku starts to work his finger around, caressing Katsuki from the inside out, and Katsuki can’t hold back the most embarrassing, slutty moan. Fuck. He didn’t think he was capable of making a noise like that.

“I’m adding another one, okay?” 

“Hnngh.”

With his free hand, Deku strokes tenderly at Katsuki’s belly. The hand on his ass withdraws, and when it returns, two thick, wet fingers are pushing inside him. Katsuki twitches uncontrollably, breathing fast.

“You can come if you want, Kacchan,” Deku tells him, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “It won’t take you long to get hard again. It’s okay if you need to take the edge off.”

“I d-d-don’t,” Katsuki stutters. His face burns with mortification. God, Deku’s barely even touched him and he’s already undone.

Deku pulls his fingers out and slides back in with three. Soon enough, his fingers are thrusting in and out in a rhythm Katsuki’s hips roll into. Deku watches him as if hypnotized, his eyes wide and glassy with lust, his hair growing damp with sweat. Katsuki’s the one on his back, but he doesn’t feel like he’s lost to Deku. It feels like an equal give and take, not so different from sparring.

Deku shifts so that he can trail his lips from Katsuki’s knee down his thigh, until he’s pressing wet kisses into the juncture between leg and hip. He nuzzles into Katsuki’s pubic hair and then – without warning – bobs up and sucks down Katsuki’s dick.

It’s instantaneous. Katsuki can’t even get a warning out before he comes, dick throbbing in Deku’s searing hot mouth, back arching off the mattress, hands twisting in the sheets so hard it’s a miracle they don’t tear.

When it’s over, he’s a boneless puddle, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. Deku’s mouth and hands withdraw, leaving Katsuki cold and empty for a split second, but then Deku shuffles up the bed to lie down next to him. His scarred right hand rubs soothingly over Katsuki’s chest, over his hard nipples and his pounding heartbeat. Katsuki would bat him away, but he’s wiped out, so he allows it. Grudgingly, of course.

He turns his head to glare at Deku. “You did that on purpose.”

“What? Made you come?” Deku grins, his green eyes crinkling. “That’s kind of the point.”

“Where’d you learn to—” he begins, and then stops, scowling. He doesn’t really want to think about Deku with other people. It makes his stomach squirm unpleasantly with an emotion he doesn’t recognize.

Deku shrugs one shoulder. “Nowhere important.” His eyes are fixed on Katsuki’s face. He’s not thinking about anyone else he’s been with, that’s for sure. His attention belongs solely to Katsuki. That ugly feeling in his stomach fades.

Now that Katsuki’s caught his breath, he decides it’s his turn to take charge. He rolls onto his side, closer to Deku. Their chests are millimeters apart. Impulsively, he tugs the tie from Deku’s hair and runs his fingers through the loose curls. He’s always been curious. Turns out, they’re even softer than he imagined, damn him. He skims his hand down Deku’s body, exploring the hard planes of his chest and abs, the light trail of hair on his stomach, the length of his erection. Deku’s breath catches when Katsuki takes him in hand and strokes him, and Katsuki is pleased to find he can tell how Deku likes it just from the rhythm of his breathing, or the way his eyes flutter closed when Katsuki makes a move that really does it for him.

In the spirit of experimentation, he leans in and catches Deku’s mouth in another kiss. This one’s slower, less frantic than before. Their lips cling and part, over and over. Katsuki could lose time doing this, could stay here taking Deku’s mouth for hours. But he’s on a mission. He pulls away and straddles Deku.

Okay, so he’s come around to Deku’s argument re: Katsuki playing catcher instead of pitcher tonight.

That doesn’t mean he can’t still be on top.

Deku steadies him, one hand on Katsuki’s thigh and another on his hip.

“I got it,” Katsuki says, even though Deku hasn’t said anything.

Deku smiles. “I know.”

He’s patient. He doesn’t rush Katsuki at all while Katsuki gets used to the feeling of having Deku’s broad body between his legs, figures out how to balance on his knees and brace himself with his hands on Deku’s chest. He moans encouragingly when Katsuki grinds down on his dick, testing how that hard length feels rubbing up into his crack. Good, he decides. Very good. Pleasure radiates through his body in delicious waves.

He reaches behind himself and fumbles to line up Deku’s dick with his hole. No more messing around. He’s gonna take the whole thing in one go, ‘cause he’s not a fucking pussy—

Deku takes Katsuki’s hips in steel grip, stopping him from moving. “Let me.”

“I got it,” Katsuki argues, but then Deku slides just the head of his dick inside, and Katsuki freezes. Even with the prep they did, Deku is big, and he can feel the beginnings of a burn. Deku slides another inch inside, and Katsuki gasps.

“Slow,” Deku says, hoarsely, his face flushed and dazed with lust. “If you do— short, shallow thrusts— bounce a little and take it bit by bit— that’s right, Kacchan. Just like that. You’re perfect.”

Katsuki shudders even as he obeys, taking Deku’s dick agonizingly slow, feeling him sink deeper and deeper inside of Katsuki with every twitch of Katsuki’s hips. While Deku’s thick, he’s not that lengthy, so before long Katsuki is fully seated.

Deku stays still underneath him, with what appears to be a monumental effort. His curls fan across the sheets; his chest heaves. He looks up at Katsuki in awe, like he’s got the fucking sun itself impaled on his stupid dick. Katsuki wants to say something along the lines of put your eyes back in your fucking sockets, loser, but he can’t form words. It’s taking everything he has just to keep breathing.

It occurs to him, suddenly, that he can’t stand the thought of anyone but Deku seeing him like this. Deku’s seen him at his worst, so this, in comparison, is nothing. But how do people do this with strangers?

“One sec,” he manages.

“It’s okay. Take your time,” Deku says, even though he must be damn near losing it right now. Hell, Katsuki at least came earlier. Deku hasn’t.

No way is Katsuki letting Deku be better at this than he is, experience be damned.

Experimentally, he begins to move, rising and falling over Deku, figuring out how it feels to roll his hips this way or that. Soon they find a rhythm that suits them both – a frantic, rocking rhythm that has Katsuki bouncing on Deku’s dick like he was programmed to do it, like the knowledge of how to take the mouth-wateringly good stretch and burn of Deku’s erection splitting him open is encoded on his bones. Deku keeps one hand on his hip, but his other wanders, tweaking Katsuki’s nipples, cupping the side of his throat tenderly, mussing the spiky hair at the nape of his neck. Everywhere he touches, Katsuki’s skin sparks with sensation.

When Katsuki’s thighs begin to tremble and his pace falters, Deku sits up and pushes him on his back. Katsuki is too far gone to object; he’s never been harder in his life, and woah, suddenly this all feels very different with Deku’s weight pressing him down. He bites at Deku’s shoulder, and his fingers dig into that strong back hard enough to leave bruises. He can’t move, really, all he can do is take what Deku gives him. And what Deku gives him are deep, relentless thrusts that make his whole body burn with pleasure. Those powerful thighs work between Katsuki's spread legs, his hips snapping into him. His balls slap against Katsuki’s ass. Katsuki writhes underneath him, delirious. All he can feel and hear and taste is Deku.

Then Deku readjusts his angle, straightening and hitching Katsuki’s leg over his shoulder again. His thrusts come faster. He’s flushed with exertion, from his cheeks all down his freckled shoulders and chest. If Katsuki could reach, he’d lick him.

“Kacchan,” Deku says. “Touch yourself.”

He doesn’t say for me, but Katsuki hears it anyway. 

Katsuki’s hands fly to his dick – hell, he almost forgot he could jack himself off, that’s how fucking lost he is. By now, his dick’s so red it looks ready to catch on fire. Katsuki wraps his fingers around it, gives it a few tugs – and then he glances up and realizes that Deku is watching Katsuki thrust into his own hand with something like hunger in his eyes—

And Katsuki is gone, arching up into Deku, his dick jerking in his hand and spilling cum onto his own stomach.

“Fuck,” Deku says, and that almost startles Katsuki out of his orgasm-induced haze, because holy hell did Deku just swear? Deku ducks his head, pressing his mouth against Katsuki’s thigh. He gives a few more thrusts, rougher than before, slowly losing control, and then his hips jerk and his mouth drops open and he’s coming inside of Katsuki.

Watching him makes Katsuki shudder with want, his dick giving an optimistic twitch. Damn. Who knew Deku could look like that when he came?

Deku pulls out of him, trembling. He disentangles himself from Katsuki with great care, and then he collapses beside him, panting. At least Katsuki’s not the only one who’s completely fucking wrecked right now.

They lie there in silence for a few minutes, tilted toward each other, shoulders and knees brushing. For once, all the loud voices always shouting each other down in Katsuki’s head are just… quiet.

“So,” Deku says, once his breathing goes back to normal. “Was it everything you hoped it’d be?”

Hoped? If I’d ever even suspected it’d be like that I sure as fuck wouldn’t have waited so long. Can’t believe we used to live in the same fucking dorm and I never once snuck into your room. Was I stupid in high school? I think maybe I was stupid in high school.

Aloud, he says: “Eh. Not bad.”

Deku gives him that trademark dopey grin of his, an expression that means he’s particularly fucking proud of himself. He used to look like that when Aizawa-sensei gave him an approving nod for getting a question right in class. Now it’s ‘cause he just plowed Katsuki’s ass into oblivion.

Katsuki rolls over, getting in Deku’s face, intending to tell him off – can’t let the nerd’s ego get too big, lord knows the media ain’t keeping it in check – but a wave of exhaustion overcomes him. He winds up with one leg slung over Deku’s hips, his nose nudging into Deku’s cheek, muttering half-formed complaints into the scant space between their bodies as he begins to slip into sleep.

Before he passes out completely, he feels Deku wrap his arms around him and tug him in even closer. It should be claustrophobic, but instead it’s just snug and warm, and Katsuki is out like a light before he knows it.

#

Deku leaves in the morning. Katsuki stirs when he gets out of bed. He’s distantly aware of Deku tiptoeing around the room, disappearing into the bathroom to wash up and then getting dressed in the clothes they’d left strewn all over the place.

Meanwhile, Katsuki savors the warm sheets and pleasant soreness. Memories of last night float through his mind. His heartbeat quickens, almost imperceptibly, and a lush heat settles deep inside him, in his bones, in his chest. Huh, he thinks. So that’s why people are so obsessed with sex.

No, he mentally corrects himself. It was only that good because he was with Deku. That’s what happens when the world’s greatest heroes get together: fireworks. Deku acted like Katsuki’s reasons for propositioning him were so outlandish, but Katsuki was right, as usual. A smug smile tugs at his lips, even though his eyes are still closed and he can feel sleep calling him back.

At least Deku sees things his way now. Everything worked out the way it was meant to.

He’s too tired to do more than mumble a good morning at Deku. Instead of trying to rouse himself, he dozes, and at some point Deku slips out. Katsuki may or may not have dreamed the feeling of Deku’s big, warm hand smoothing back his spiky hair, and Deku’s soft lips pressing a feather-light kiss to the bridge of his nose.

He falls asleep.

Maybe an hour later, he wakes up for real, and Deku is long gone. He frowns at the wall, twisting his legs in the rumpled sheets. The apartment is so quiet. He never realized how quiet it is in here. And he’s kind of chilly in this giant-ass bed. A king deserves a king-sized bed, but it’s… admittedly a lot of space for one person.

He stretches, testing out the soreness he’d noticed earlier, and his hand bumps the other pillow. Instinctively, he grabs it, curls around it and buries his face in it.

It— oh. It still smells like Deku.

He relaxes a little, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. Why not? It’s his pillow. A man can sniff his own pillows if he damn well wants to.

But it’s still so quiet. He doesn’t think he wants to stay in the apartment today. Maybe he should see what Eijirou’s up to? Or… what did Deku say he was doing today…?

Right. Volunteering. He mentioned it at Uraraka’s place last night.

That’s not really Katsuki’s scene. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help – he is a hero, after all. But the media tends to swarm those events. It’s a lot safer than trying to get photos during battle. Katsuki likes attention, but only on his terms.

Still. He has nothing else to do. And… Deku could probably use the help. He’d be doing him a favor.

Yeah. Katsuki should go and help him out, like the good guy he is. He rolls out of bed, wincing, and shuffles into the bathroom for a shower.

#

One of the first things Deku did after becoming a pro was setting up a program that paired local heroes with police and fire departments – creating a system for the heroes to help with clean-up and rebuilding efforts in the wake of large-scale villain attacks that caused significant amounts of property damage. Pros tend to pitch in whenever they can anyway, but formalizing the process made it so that their efforts could be directed in whatever way would do the most good.

Deku’s all about that organizational shit. He thrives on it. So of course the program is a massive success. There’s a chapter in just about every city in Japan nowadays.

Today, Deku and his crew are working on a block of residences that were destroyed earlier this week. Some villain with a fire quirk was responsible for that one.

Katsuki doesn’t see Deku right away when he arrives, so he gets his name on the sign-in list, waiting to be added to a team. Some of them will be on clean-up duty, some stabilizing areas that are on the verge of collapse, some working on reconstruction.

“Kacchan?” Deku says, and Katsuki turns. Deku’s stupidly expressive face is glowing with happiness. “You came!”

This program is basically Deku’s baby. He’s beyond proud of it. Of course he’s happy to have an extra pair of hands around; he probably greets all the hero volunteers like this.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t have anything better to do,” Katsuki informs him.

Deku hovers close to him, buzzing with repressed energy, as if he wants to touch but he’s holding himself back. “It means a lot that you’re here. Thank you.”

“Don’t overthink it.”

They get to work. Uraraka’s there, and so are Iida and Todoroki. The rest of class 1-A volunteers occasionally, when they can, but Deku’s three minions are regulars. The weird thing is that Uraraka keeps shooting Deku and Katsuki these puzzled looks. At one point, he catches Deku shaking his head at her, as if to say, Not now.

Katsuki doesn’t think much on it. He’s been added to the demolition team, clearing up bits that are too damaged to be saved and making room for reconstruction. The day passes by in a blur of hard, satisfying work. And if Katsuki is occasionally distracted by the sight of Deku’s chest heaving or sweat dripping down his neck, well, no one needs to fucking know that, do they?

#

Much later, after sunset, after the reporters have cleared out, after Deku has thanked each and every person who pitched in – he and Deku shrug their jackets back on and walk down the block in comfortable silence. Katsuki, for his part, is exhausted. Satisfied, but exhausted. He gets why Deku doesn’t let the media deter him from volunteering: it’s a different sort of heroism from fighting and rescuing people, a less flashy kind, but it felt meaningful. Maybe he’ll do this more often.

Maybe. He rolls out a crick in his neck and glances sidelong at Deku, only to find him already watching Katsuki. He’s been doing that all day, giving Katsuki these pensive looks that Katsuki has no idea how to interpret. Right now he looks the way he does when he’s about to take a gamble during battle, make a move that’s high-risk, high-reward.

That’s a thought worth evaluating further, but instead, Katsuki gets derailed. Thoughts of Deku in battle morph into thoughts of Deku flushed and sweaty when they spar, meeting Katsuki strike for strike. That image changes seamlessly into the memory of how Deku had looked under him last night.

Honestly, it’s a good thing Katsuki waited until he was already a pro hero before having sex. It’s distracting as hell. Now that he’s had it once, he wants it all the time.

“So,” Katsuki says. “You coming home with me or what?”

His hands itch to wrap around that trim waist again, to squeeze those incredible thighs, to grip the back of Deku’s neck and hold him so close they’re breathing the same air. If they weren’t who they were, Katsuki might’ve dragged Deku into an alley just to touch him even for a few minutes.

And Deku’s eyes are so warm, and so calm.

Deku stops walking, and Katsuki does, too. It’s not a conscious decision. It’s like there’s an invisible rope tying him to Deku, and when Deku stops, Katsuki simply can’t take another step. The rope snaps tight, holding him in place as effectively as any quirk could.

“What exactly do you want from me, Kacchan?” Deku says, softly. His breath clouds and dissipates. “Just sex? Still?”

They’re between two street lamps, in the shadows at the side of an empty road. It feels like there’s no one else in the world but the two of them.

“Uh, yeah,” Katsuki manages. His voice is rougher than usual. He has to clear his throat before he can go on, louder and with more conviction. “I thought I made that clear. What else?”

“Hmm,” Deku says. “Well… you see, Kacchan… if you want a spot in the number one hero’s bed—”

“Number two hero,” Katsuki interjects.

“—you’ll have to try a little harder.”

“Excuse me?” Katsuki barely manages not to yell. “That’s not what you said last night!”

“Last night was a freebie.”

Katsuki sputters, but Deku just shrugs, a placid smile on his face.

“We are friends, Kacchan. And I’ve always been in— been attracted to you. Since we were kids, even.”

“You, uh. You have?”

“But if you want this to be a regular thing,” Deku says, his fierce green eyes burning into Katsuki’s, “you need to work for it.”

“Work for it?” He’s still reeling from that revelation – always attracted since when? – so the words come out with less force than he intends. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Deku steps closer. Their noses almost brush. He’s shorter than Katsuki, but somehow Katsuki still feels like he’s looking up at him. 

“I want to be seduced, Kacchan.”

He doesn’t know why those words are like electricity, shocking him from the inside out, but they are.

“What. The hell?” he breathes. He can smell Deku again, the same scent he’d greedily breathed from his pillow this morning, but concentrated, filling up his lungs. He’s drowning in it, but he’ll die if Deku moves even an inch away from him.

“I want a date,” Deku says. “I want you to treat me right.”

“Well— well, fuck you!” Katsuki says, reflexively. He doesn’t even know why. It just seems like the thing to say.

“Okay. Go find someone else to take home, then,” Deku says. He pulls up the zipper on his coat a little higher, puts his hands in his pockets, and begins to walk away. “I’m sure one of your adoring fans will happily volunteer.”

“I don’t want a fan. I want you!” Katsuki shouts after him. He hasn’t moved. He’s still recovering from Deku’s proximity.

Deku pivots to look at him. His face goes soft, and for a split second, he’s not Number One Pro Hero Deku. He’s not the charming, charismatic Deku who’d deftly handled both the volunteer event and the media all day; he’s not the powerful, commanding Deku who’d pounded Katsuki into the mattress last night only to walk away from him now. Instead, he’s Katsuki’s Deku again, the Deku he grew up with, the Deku who admired him, the Deku who forgave him even when he didn’t deserve it. The Deku he knows almost better than he knows himself.

As soon as he processes that flicker in his expression, it’s gone. Deku smirks, a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“If you want me, then prove it,” Deku says. “Earn it.”

And he walks away without a backward glance, turning in the direction of the train station and leaving his line of sight.

Katsuki’s never been so annoyed in his life.

He’s also never been so turned on.

Earn it, huh?

He wouldn’t be Deku if he didn’t make everything more complicated than it needed to be, he thinks. Typical Deku. Always needing me to knock some sense into his thick head.

And even though he’s pissed off, sexually frustrated, and going home to an empty bed, he can’t quite hold back a smile.

#

He needs a plan of attack.

“Um, a plan?” Mina says. “He literally told you what he wanted. Just take him on a date. Can’t be any more straightforward than that.”

They’re at the ramen place again, though this time he’s caught sitting between Mina and Denki while Eijirou shrugs sympathetically from Mina’s other side. The moment Katsuki turned up tonight, they pounced on him – “We saw you leave Ochako’s place with Izuku the other night! Spill spill spill!” – so Katsuki grudgingly fessed up. Mina and Denki’s twin expressions of scandalized glee almost make him regret sharing, but at least they contained themselves long enough for him to recount his last conversation with Deku.

It’s not like he needs advice, but… well… Mina didn’t steer him wrong last time, so maybe it’s worth listening to her shrill voice just this once.

“I don’t even know what people do on dates!” Katsuki hisses. He stuffs another bite of noodles in his mouth, chewing furiously. He hates not knowing things.

“Time out,” Denki says. “I thought you just wanted sex. You got that. So why’re you still—”

He stops, frowning at something over Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki turns to find both Mina and Eijirou making cut it out gestures behind his back. The fuck’s wrong with these idiots tonight?

Turning back to Denki, he scowls. “I wanna keep having sex with him. Obviously.”

Denki’s blond brows furrow in confusion. “You mean like a rel—”

“Katsuki!” Eijirou interrupts loudly. Katsuki swings around to face him. “Look, bro, you can handle a date, no sweat. A date can be anything.”

Katsuki frowns at him distrustfully. “Anything?”

“Yeah!” Mina nods. “It’s just about spending time doing something fun together.”

“Like sparring?”

Her face falls a bit. “Well… it’s… it’s probably better if it’s not work-related. But that leaves plenty of options!” she adds quickly, when Katsuki starts glaring at his ramen like he’s gonna set it on fire. “You could go to the park or to the movies, have a nice dinner together, go dancing…”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose. “Really?”

None of that sounds appealing in the slightest. But… if it makes that much of a difference to the freckly little nerd, then….

“Forget the movies,” Eijirou puts in. “You can’t even talk to each other. Pointless.”

“Ooh, I’ve got it!” Mina says, snapping her fingers. “Cook him dinner and watch a movie at your place.”

Eijirou nods. “Yeah, that! Way better plan.”

“Guys who can cook are hot.”

“Huh?” Katsuki says. “Why’s that hot? What the fuck kind of adult man can’t cook?”

Denki and Eijirou both raise their hands.

“I said adult.”

“See, this is why you got no man,” Denki says, with a somber shake of his head. “Prince Charming you are not, my friend.”

“I’ll charm your head up your fucking ass—”

“No, seriously,” Mina cuts in. “I don’t think Izuku cares what you do on the date. Just show him that you’re willing to try.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Katsuki grumbles, “but fine. Whatever.”

He polishes off his meal and manages to completely miss the knowing looks that the other three exchange over his head.

#

But asking Deku to come over for a date turns out to be a lot harder than asking him to come over for sex. It just feels— different. And he doesn’t know how to bring it up. Does he text him? Or does it need to be done in person? Then, is it weird if he shows up at Deku’s agency at the end of his shift— fuck, yeah, that would be weird, he’s not doing that. Should he set up a sparring session and ask Deku there? But last time he tried to ask Deku shit after sparring, it didn't go well, and he can’t shake the feeling that he should steer clear of that route altogether.

He takes so long to figure it out that the next time he sees Deku is the following weekend, at the annual charity gala held in the late All Might’s honor.

Almost all of 1-A attends every year, and it tends to be a somber affair for them. Deku, who’s undoubtedly the most affected out of all of them, is also the best at hiding it. He’s brilliant. He cuts an elegant figure in a perfectly tailored suit. His hair is swept neatly out of his face, and his smile never falters. He attracts hangers-on in droves: women in gowns that cost more than most people’s rent tugging flirtatiously at his elbow, square-jawed men with glasses of whiskey bending to murmur who-the-fuck-knows-what in his ears.

Katsuki stands off to the side and watches him through gaps in the crowd, glaring, until Mina sidles up to him.

“So,” she says, taking a sip from her wine glass. “Ask him out yet?”

His stony silence is all the answer she needs.

“If you wait too long, someone might beat you to it.” When he turns a vicious glare on her, she raises her free hand in a placating gesture. “Just saying.”

She’s not wrong. When he looks up again, a woman Katsuki vaguely recognizes as a model is clinging to Deku’s scarred right hand with both of her own, her breasts pressing into Deku’s arm, while she bats her eyelashes and giggles at something he said.

Some thick, awful, possessive feeling sinks its claws into Katsuki’s gut. No one who doesn’t know what Deku’s been through should get to touch his scars.

If Katsuki was holding a glass, he’d have broken it by now. Luckily, he knew better than to drink tonight. He storms away from Mina, cutting through the crowd, and ends up in front of Deku in record time.

“Excuse me,” he tells the woman, plucking Deku from her grip. “Hero business. We’ll need a moment.”

“Kacchan,” Deku says, as she slinks away. His practiced, media-ready smile has changed into something soft and welcoming. “Hi.”

“Dance with me,” Katsuki demands. Dancing is a date thing, right? That’s what Mina said.

Deku’s eyes widen. “Here? In front of everyone?”

“No, dumbass, out in the parking lot. Yeah, here.”

“Okay,” Deku says, beaming, sounding oddly out of breath.

Katsuki leads him onto the dance floor, where they’re playing something slow and classy. He doesn’t actually know how to dance, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Deku throws himself into Katsuki’s arms, and Katsuki holds him, and they just sway together like dumb teenagers at a school dance.

“We’re gonna make the front page,” Deku whispers, with a conspiratorial grin.

“Like I care. Let them talk.”

If Deku’s smile was brilliant earlier, now it’s downright radiant. Katsuki doesn’t even really know what he said to make him look like that, but whatever. He’ll take it. He tugs Deku in closer, close enough to kiss, though he doesn’t – not yet. It’s the first time he’s felt right all week. The first time since he made the mistake of letting Deku climb out of his bed.

“I don’t…” Katsuki swallows. He can’t meet Deku’s eyes, so he looks at his nose instead. “I don’t know how to… do this. I want to. I just don’t know how.”

Deku doesn’t ask what he means.

“Repeat after me: Izuku, will you—”

“Izuku,” Katsuki breathes into his ear, and Deku breaks off, shivering in his arms.

Katsuki wants him so fucking bad.

“Y-Yes,” Deku says. “Will… will you go on a date with me? See – easy.”

“Fucking go out with me, Deku.”

Deku laughs, and Katsuki doesn’t need a better yes than that.

#

After the gala, Katsuki walks Deku home, with his hands shoved in his pockets and Deku’s arm looped around his elbow. Deku lost the hair tie as soon as they stepped through the doors. The drinking and dancing and talking and laughter has left him relaxed and quiet. When Katsuki glances at him, he gets a tired, pleased smile in return that makes his throat go tight. Deku looks the way a Saturday morning feels.

Pull yourself together, he tells himself firmly. You fucking sound like Denki mooning over his latest crush. Embarrassing ass.

“Thanks for walking me home, Kacchan,” Deku says. Katsuki doesn’t know why he’s being thanked. It’s not like Deku can’t get himself home safely, and it’s not like Katsuki is particularly good company right now.

He shrugs. “Your place is on the way to mine, anyway.”

That’s barely true, but Deku doesn’t call him on it. They walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, until they get to Deku’s door. Deku goes for his keys, but fumbles getting them out of his pocket. Instinctively, Katsuki reaches for his hands. They’re stiff with cold.

“Why didn’t you say anything, idiot?” he says, rubbing them between his own to warm them up. Katsuki always runs hot.

“I— I didn’t even notice, to be honest,” Deku admits. He’s doing that thing again where he smiles up at Katsuki with a mixture of delight and surprise. Katsuki’s been getting that expression from him a lot, lately. He kind of likes it. That he can still surprise Deku after all these years.

He lifts Deku’s hands to his lips and breathes on them, still working the cold fingers between his own. Katsuki knows he’s being stupid. He should just let the poor guy get inside where he can actually be warm. But it’s hard to let go.

He glares down at Deku’s strong, scarred hands as if this is all their fault. And then, without even consciously making the decision to do it, he raises them to his lips again and kisses the scars he’s been obsessing over all night.

Deku watches him raptly. Their faces are so close a kiss seems inevitable. He leans in, and Deku tips forward to meet him halfway, and—

Katsuki licks a long, wet stripe up Deku’s face, from jaw to hairline. Like a dog.

“Kacchan!” Deku shrieks, laughter mingled with disgust. “Gross!”

He tries to shove him away, but their hands are still connected, so they end up wrestling for a few moments until Katsuki gets Deku pinned against his front door. Deku’s giggling madly, wiping his wet cheek off on his shoulder.

“What was that for, you crazy person?”

Katsuki shrugs. “You were getting too relaxed. Gotta keep you on your toes. ’S what I’m here for.”

He draws back so he’s not holding Deku in place with his weight, but Deku yanks on his collar, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s chaste compared to everything else they’ve done, but they linger there, tangled together in the shadow of Deku’s building.

Finally, Deku lets go of his collar and gently pulls away. It takes everything Katsuki has not to chase after his lips.

“You’ll text me, right?” Deku asks. “For our date?”

“Said I would, wouldn’t I?”

Katsuki steps back, and Deku finally gets his door unlocked. “’Night, Kacchan.”

“‘Night, nerd.”

He walks away. When he glances back once, before he makes it to the corner, Deku’s still watching him. Katsuki strolls all the way home with a smirk on his face that almost certainly makes him look unhinged, but who cares? He feels like he’s finally done something right.

Now, however the fuck he managed it, he just has to do it again.

#

“I’ll be honest,” Deku says. “When you said I should wear ‘as little as possible’ to our date, this wasn’t what I figured you had in mind.”

“You’re always underestimating me,” Katsuki grouses.

Deku laughs. “I’ve never made that mistake. Not once in my life.”

“Wait, I got that—”

“No, I can—“

“Let me show off my manly fucking muscles, Deku,” Katsuki says, and succeeds in yanking the majority of their gear out of Deku’s hands. No one on a date with Katsuki is gonna haul shit around. Deku rolls his eyes but surrenders, and he does in fact give Katsuki a none-too-subtle once-over.

Katsuki runs through his mental checklist. Towels, check. An umbrella so Deku’s pale, freckly ass doesn’t fry in the sun – check. A bag with some homemade sandwiches, fresh fruit, and several water bottles – check. Sunscreen, check.

“Manly muscles? Heh. You spend too much time with Eiji.”

“Eiji? Who is Eiji?” Katsuki says, mockingly, mimicking Deku’s high-pitched voice. “Since when are you two on a first-name basis?”

He knows Deku’s on good terms with almost all of 1-A, but he didn’t realize he and Eijirou were that close.

Deku shrugs. “We have comon interests.”

Katsuki decides not to pursue that. They trudge off the sidewalk and onto the hot sand, their flip-flops sinking into it.

“Anyway, if I spend too much time with Eijirou, you spend too much time with Icyhot,” Katsuki says. The food bag swings between them. Deku’s walking so close it bumps against his thigh. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna forget what it’s like to have a sense of humor.”

“What are you talking about? Shouto is hilarious,” Deku says.

Katsuki groans. “Not you, too.”

People act like Todoroki’s some kind of a fucking stand-up comic. He’ll deliver a mildly humorous statement in a total deadpan, seemingly not even realizing he said something that could be interpreted as funny, and suddenly the whole room’s in stitches. Katsuki does not get it. Is the guy funny because he’s not funny? Are they laughing at him instead of with him? But that can’t be the case, because Deku, at least, would never do that.

Whatever. He refuses to think about Icyhot right now.

It's like even the weather wants Katsuki to get this right, because it's a perfect beach day. Not a speck of cloud-cover mars the creamy blue sky, and sunlight pours liquid gold heat down their backs. There's just the faintest bite of late spring chill in the air, which won’t stop them from getting in the water but is just enough to make it so that the crowd doesn't swell to what it will come summer.

Katsuki dumps their things on the ground and spreads out their towels while Deku gets the umbrella set up. He's wearing a loose tank top that says “BEACH, PLEASE” and his swim shorts are... black with an orange X on the thigh. The little shit bought Ground Zero swim shorts for the occasion. 

He hooks a finger in the waistband of the shorts, tugging them away from Deku's body and then letting them go so they snap back into place. Deku yelps and falls on his butt. He's just barely managed to get the umbrella open.

“What are these, Deku?"

“I’ve had them forever,” Deku says slyly, tugging at the waistband himself. “You like?"

“Fuck you. No, you haven't."

Deku laughs. “I actually have. I love buying everyone's merch."

“Everyone? So I’m not special." He tries to make that sound like a joke, but at least part of him is serious. His merch looks fucking great on Deku. In fact, Deku should go around wearing nothing but Ground Zero merch for the rest of his life.

“Oh, you’re very special, Kacchan.”

“Who else’s gear have you got?” he demands.

Deku squints, thinking it over. “Ingenium came out with that line of sneakers. Uravity has the coolest jackets. Pretty much everyone we know has been on a T-shirt at some point, that’s like half of what’s in my closet… then there are all the collectible figures and posters…. Oh! And they keep putting illustrations of Shouto on notebooks aimed at schoolgirls. They make him look like such a prince! I have three of those...."

“But my merch is the coolest,” Katsuki grumbles, daring him to disagree.

“Yours is definitely the most ubiquitous. Does your PR team sleep?"

“You're one to talk." Katsuki can’t turn a corner anywhere in Japan without seeing Deku’s face in shop windows, playing on TV screens, plastered across billboards and magazine covers. He’s everywhere.

Yet another reason for Katsuki to get this right: if he fucks up with Deku, he’ll never, ever be able to forget it.

They sit side by side under the umbrella, shoulders brushing. Deku's already sticky-warm from sweat and sunscreen. He leans his head on Katsuki's shoulder. When Katsuki looks down, he can see the edge of his smile, those green eyes peeking out over the rim of his sunglasses to gaze out at the ocean. 

“This was a good idea," he says, softly. “Thanks, Kacchan."

All Katsuki wants right now is to bury his nose in Deku's hair. Then again, he’s done a lot more intimate things than that with him, hasn’t he? He probably doesn’t need to hold back.

Right?

Tentatively, he nuzzles into Deku’s curls. Deku’s hand slides into his, their fingers twining together. 

They make it into the water eventually, racing into the shallow waves and shoving each other over ’til they’re both soaked. They swim laps, and when they get tired of that, they float together some ways from shore, Deku hooking his pinky on Katsuki’s so they don’t drift apart. When they finally climb back up to where they left their stuff, Deku’s already showing some pinkness on his shoulders and cheeks, so Katsuki herds him into the shade of the umbrella and shoves the sunscreen bottle in his face.

“Reapply,” he orders. Deku snorts but complies. Meanwhile, Katsuki unpacks the food he brought.

“Wait,” Deku says, unwrapping a sandwich. “This is home-made.”

“Of course it is. You think I’m buying my date prepackaged food? What do you take me for?”

“The bread is so good. Don’t tell me you—”

“Baked it from scratch,” Katsuki says. He never really put much thought into his cooking. It’s just something he does because he needs sustenance, and eating the same thing all the time would get boring, so he’s gotta have a few options. Baking bread seemed like too much trouble until he figured out it’s kind of soothing, and someone as high-strung as he is needs something soothing to do every now and then.

Deku looks down at his sandwich, now missing a huge bite, and then up at Katsuki, wide-eyed.

“Kacchan,” he says. “You’re amazing.”

“Shut up and eat.” He proceeds to stuff his face so that he doesn’t have to meet Deku’s eyes and let Deku see him blush. Who cares if the nerd likes his food or not? Katsuki doesn’t care.

They burn through three sandwiches each and then curl up together under the umbrella, Katsuki stretched out on his towel, Deku tucked against his side with his head on Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki buries his fingers in Deku’s sun-warmed curls, and he dozes off for maybe an hour.

Deku wakes him to see the sunset. They sit with their arms pressed together, a gentle sea breeze blowing their hair back from their faces as they watch the sun sink below the horizon. Deku watches, anyway. Katsuki— and he plans to take this secret to his grave— Katsuki spends those minutes memorizing Deku’s dreamy expression, the play of orange-pink-purple light across his skin. He looks like something otherworldly, a nymph of the sky. And when the stars come out, they fill his eyes to the brim.

Deku catches him looking. Katsuki jumps to his feet and begins gathering their things.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he mutters. “I need a fucking shower.”

Deku catches Katsuki’s wrist. His warm, dry lips press against his knuckles in a kiss that makes it feel like daylight again.

“You can shower at my place,” Deku says.

“Yeah.” Katsuki’s voice is rough, is wrecked. He feels like the saltwater is inside him, sloshing around in his stomach and scoring his veins. “Yeah, okay.”

#

They almost don’t make it out of the shower, mostly because Katsuki gets on his knees and dives tongue-first into Deku’s ass. Licks up his crack from his balls to his tailbone. Deku actually squeaks. His chest is pressed to the tiled wall, back arched, Katsuki’s hands holding his hips tight enough to bruise. The water pounds over Katsuki’s spine, and the porcelain is cold against his knees. But he barely notices that.

Deku tastes good.

His hands slide down from Deku’s hips to squeeze his firm, round cheeks. Even his ass is freckled, which is just deeply unfair. Any semblance of self-control Katsuki might've had abandons him at the sight of those freckles. Goodbye, restraint. It was nice knowing you.

He licks one cheek and sinks his teeth into the other, leaving a magnificent bite mark.

“Kacchan!” Deku yelps.

Katsuki gives his ass a sharp smack. “Shut up, nerd. I’m about to blow your mind.”

Deku’s knees tremble; his dick hangs heavy between his legs, so hard it looks painful. Katsuki spreads him open and runs his tongue over his tight little hole, lapping at it over and over. Deku moans helplessly, his whole body tense with arousal, but his hole relaxes for Katsuki. He works the tip of his tongue inside. 

“Kacchan,” Deku says. “Please.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling back so he can rub experimentally at Deku’s hole with the pad of his thumb. The pucker twitches invitingly under his touch. Deku’s dick jerks, leaking, so Katsuki takes it in hand and strokes him while his mouth works at his opening again, kissing and sucking at it, lavishing it with attention.

He’s not even trying to make Deku come – to be honest, he’s enjoying himself so much down there he sort of lost track of everything else – so when he does, it’s a pleasant surprise. Deku comes in streaks over the wall, moaning Katsuki’s name, his dick throbbing in Katsuki’s hand. And when it’s over, his knees give out on him. He slides down and ends up in Katsuki’s lap, his perfect ass pressing against Katsuki’s erection.

Katsuki wraps his arms around Deku and buries his face in his neck. The water has long since gone lukewarm, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Good?” he asks.

“So good, Kacchan,” Deku says. His hands cling weakly to Katsuki’s forearms where they’re clamped around his chest. Katsuki kisses his shoulders, the nape of his neck, his ears. Every part of Deku tastes good.

“Bed?”

“Please,” Deku says.

They clamber out of the shower, towel off, and fall into Deku’s bed. Katsuki crawls on top of Deku, tangling their legs together. Deku’s skin is warm and soft and still a little damp, and he wraps his strong arms around Katsuki’s neck right away, drawing him into a kiss. His mouth is feverishly hot and yields to Katsuki, like Deku’s orgasm has made him easy and submissive. Katsuki is under no illusions that will last long, so he revels in it while he can, pressing Deku’s lean body into the mattress. He’s dizzy with all these sensations, the clean smell of Deku’s hair, Deku’s renewed erection poking at his thigh, Deku’s chest rising and falling against his.

Deku’s fingers wind through his hair; his kisses turn hard and demanding. “Kacchan,” he whispers, when Katsuki pulls away to gasp into his neck. “My Kacchan.”

He bites hard into the juncture where Deku’s neck meets his shoulder – not enough to break the skin, but enough so Deku feels it. Deku squirms against him, making pleased noises, his fingers tightening in Katsuki’s hair. Then Katsuki moves lower, his mouth finding Deku’s nipple. Another bite, sharper this time, enough to make Deku yelp; he soothes it with his tongue, lapping at the mark he left. His lips close around the stiff nub, sucking it into his mouth. Deku arches into him, head thrown back, a strangled noise escaping his throat.

Sensitive there, Katsuki notes, and gives his other nipple the same treatment, a merciless bite and then a thorough loving with his tongue and lips. Deku’s gonna be covered in bite marks by the time Katsuki’s through with him. The thought alone makes Katsuki shiver.

Deku yanks at his hair, dragging Katsuki into another kiss. Katsuki grins through it. Easy, submissive Deku is gone, and bossy Deku is back.

His hand slides between Deku’s legs, squeezing his erection. Deku thrusts into his grip, but Katsuki doesn't linger there long. He moves lower, his fingers slipping into Deku’s crack to rub at his hole again.

“Can I…?” he says into Deku’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Deku hisses. “Yes, Kacchan.”

He manages to disentangle himself from Deku long enough to retrieve the lube from the nightstand. When he turns back around, Deku’s rolled over onto his stomach. The sight of him makes Katsuki’s mouth water. His thighs are parted, his spine arched; his hips make small, uncontrolled thrusts against the mattress. He’s watching Katsuki expectantly. Just spread out waiting to get fucked.

Katsuki wastes no time crawling over to him, nudging his thighs open even wider so he can fit in between. Part of him wants to be inside Deku yesterday, but another, more insistent part wants to take his time. He trails his lips down Deku’s spine. His hands stroke at Deku’s ribs, his biceps, his thighs.

Deku flinches when his teeth sink into his ass cheek again.

“Kacchan! What’s with all the biting?” he says breathlessly, half-laughing.

Katsuki licks at the imprint his teeth left. “Don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that….”

Katsuki smirks. “Oh, so you love it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, either.” But the flush he's wearing begs to differ.

He bites the other cheek, pointedly, this time tugging at the flesh with his teeth before releasing it.

“You’re such an animal sometimes—”

That earns Deku another bite to the back of his thigh. Deku laughs, but the sound turns into a moan when Katsuki licks at his balls and up into his crack. He really wants to eat Deku out again, but he suspects if he does, he won’t be able to stop and then he’ll never get around to fucking him. And he simply can’t have that.

He sits up and flicks open the bottle of lube. Deku looks back over his shoulder, as if to make sure he's not going anywhere.

"Oh," he says, watching Katsuki stroke his own dick, getting it slick. "Mm. Hurry up, Kacchan."

He gives Deku's ass a smack, followed by a possessive squeeze. "You're so impatient."

"Then don't keep me waiting," Deku retorts. He tilts his hips up, presenting his ass to Katsuki. Practically begging for another smack. But Katsuki has a better idea.

"Unbelievable." Katsuki grips the back of Deku's neck, forcing his head back down, and leans over him until his lips brush the shell of his ear. "Are you rushing me, Izuku?"

Deku inhales sharply. "K-Kacchan. I..."

"Yes, Izuku?"

He runs his teeth lightly over the hinge of Deku's jaw. One finger slips into Deku's ass. 

Deku dissolves into wordless moans. Katsuki adds a second and third finger, stretching him nice and slow.  

“Kacchan, ‘m ready,” Deku says, squeezing his inner muscles so his hole tightens around Katsuki’s fingers. “Please, Kacchan. Want you so bad. Please.”

He probably doesn’t even realize what’s coming out of his mouth. His face is pressed into his pillow; the side that’s visible to Katsuki is flushed and dazed, his lips red and parted, his eyes glassy. He’s so gorgeous Katsuki almost forgets how to speak.

“Okay,” he manages. He lines himself up with Deku’s hole.

It’s so small. How’s he supposed to fit?

What if he hurts Deku?

“Kacchan?” Deku says, twisting to look at him.

“Tell me if… if it’s too much,” he says. “Don’t. Don’t let me hurt you.”

Deku smiles. “You won’t. It's okay, Kacchan.”

His hand reaches back to pet at Katsuki’s thigh. Carefully, Katsuki pushes just the head of his dick inside of him.

Holy fuck. It’s a miracle he doesn’t black out. He can’t even hold his head up anymore; he presses his forehead to the back of Deku’s neck, hands fisting in the sheets. Deku is unimaginably hot and tight, and silky-wet from the lube. His hips jerk forward another inch, even though he’d meant to take it slow, and he freezes.

But Deku is moaning nonstop. “Yes, Kacchan, yes,” he says. “All the way. Give me all of it.”

Katsuki slides in bit by bit, shaking with the effort of going slow, all the while listening for any change in Deku’s voice that might suggest he’s feeling anything other than pleasure.

“OhmygodKacchan,” Deku groans.

“’S okay?”

“Yes!” Deku writhes underneath him, hips thrusting as much as they can where they’re pinned between Katsuki and the mattress. “Kacchan, move.”

Katsuki pulls out a few inches and then shoves back in. When Deku makes an approving noise deep in his throat, Katsuki does it again – short, shallow thrusts, keeping Deku pinned with Katsuki’s chest against his back, driving him into the mattress. His teeth clamp down on the back of Deku’s neck as he ruts forcefully into him. Deku is a whimpering mess underneath him; Katsuki wants to fucking take him apart.

Suddenly these short thrusts aren’t enough. He pulls out and yanks Deku’s hips up so that he’s on his knees, ass up, chest down. Deku’s halfway through whining for Katsuki to get back inside him when he does, sliding back in with no hesitation this time, knowing how easily Deku opens up for him. This angle lets him pull all the way out to the tip and slam back in. He sets a merciless rhythm, fucking into that sweet ass with all his strength, until Deku’s practically wailing. The headboard bangs into the wall over and over; the mattress squeaks underneath them. Deku’s cries of “Kacchan!” goad him on. He wants to wring every last bit of pleasure out of Deku.

When he gets close, he pries one hand off Deku’s hips and reaches around to stroke his dick.

"Come now, Izuku," he growls.

Deku gasps like he’s been punched. His hips buck under Katsuki, and Katsuki feels him tighten inside as he comes. Katsuki strokes him through it, until Deku’s moans die down.

“Kacchan,” Deku whimpers. His hand fumbles between his legs and finds Katsuki’s, still playing with his softening dick. He pulls Katsuki’s cum-stained fingers to his mouth and licks him clean.

Katsuki shudders, watching him, feeling that tongue drag over his skin.

“Keep going, Kacchan,” Deku slurs. “Please. Need you.”

He was already so close, Deku’s wrecked voice is the thing that sets him off. A few more hard thrusts and Katsuki is gone, following him over the edge, spilling into Deku’s ass with a groan.

He doesn’t know how long it takes for his heartbeat to slow back down, for him to realize he’s still inside Deku and pull out. Deku’s knees slide out from under him, and his hips fall to the mattress. Katsuki collapses beside him.

For a few seconds, they’re silent, catching their breath.

“Deku?” he rasps.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“So much better than okay.”

Reassured, he rolls over and reaches for him. Deku comes into his arms willingly, wearing the happiest, most blissful smile.

“Knew you’d feel good inside me,” Deku mumbles into his neck.

“Been thinkin’ about it since last time?” Katsuki asks, smug.

“Hmm? Oh! Since, um, last time. Right.”

Deku shifts like he’s going to get up. Katsuki tightens his arms around him, refusing to budge.

“Stay,” he orders.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Deku says. He presses a lingering kiss to the corner of Katsuki’s mouth. “I’ll be right back.”

Katsuki scowls but releases him. He dozes, and it feels like only seconds pass before Deku is back as promised, squirming into Katsuki’s arms and tangling their legs together.

“Kacchan?”

“Yeah.” He blinks sleepily up at him. Deku opens his mouth, hesitates, and closes it again.

“Never mind,” he says softly. “Go to sleep.”

“Who says ‘m tired?” he slurs.

"Of course you're not."

Deku drapes himself over Katsuki, pressing light kisses all over his face. He runs his hand through Katsuki’s hair and rubs his back between his shoulder blades. Not even Katsuki can fight this barrage of comfort and affection. All he can do is cling to Deku and try not to melt into the mattress.

He drifts off, surrounded by Deku, and sleeps better than he has in weeks.

#

Before Katsuki leaves in the morning, he secures a promise of another date and a kiss goodbye. Yeah, he’s learned from his fucking mistakes; he wouldn’t be number one-or-two-depending-on-the-week if he couldn’t learn, would he?

Ground Zero has one of his most productive days in a long time. He interrupts a robbery, taking down three villains in one go. ("It was a heist!" one of them complains as he's led away in quirk-suppressing handcuffs.) A recent escapee from Tartarus makes the mistake of wandering into Katsuki's part of town; Ground Zero lands on the hood of his getaway car, smashes through the windshield, and drags him from the driver's seat with a hand around his throat. Some loser with a plant quirk, calling himself Wormwood, turns a public park into a twisted wilderness. Ground Zero blasts a trail through the gnarled trees, digs Wormwood out of his hiding spot – a pit of poison-tipped thorns and lashing vines – and hand-delivers him to the authorities. 

He's tempted to text Deku about his victory streak, which is bound to put him at the top of the rankings. But he'd rather gloat in person, so he holds off.

It's twilight by the time he finally goes home, peels his costume off, showers, and heads over to Mina's place for drinks. Eijirou and Denki give him a standing ovation when he walks in.

“What's the matter with you idiots?" he says by way of greeting, grabbing a beer and flopping down in a chair.

“Ground Zero was on fire today," Eijirou says. He drags Denki back down onto the couch with him. Mina squeezes in between them. 

“Ground Zero is always on fire," he says smugly.

“Yeah, but even the press noticed. They caught you on tape laughing over a villain's unconscious body," Denki tells him.

“Everyone thought you’d toned down the screaming and the swearing—" Mina says.

“—and the die, motherfuckers! and shouting I’ll kill you! all the time—" Eijirou supplies.

“So today felt like a throwback to your early years. It was kind of uplifting, actually,” Mina adds, thoughtfully.

“Also, do you have a smile that's not scary?” Denki asks. “How do children not cry when they see you?"

He throws his bottle cap at Denki and nails him right in the forehead. “So I had some extra energy to work off. Screw you.”

“Oh yeah? I bet I know why Ground Zero was in such a good mood," Mina says, slyly.

“There's no why. I’m the best around, that's all there is to it."

"So it has nothing to do with that giant hickey you've been walking around with all day?" Eijirou says. 

"I don't have a—" 

Wait. Does he?

He checks his reflection in his phone. Fuck. Eijirou is right. Though, calling it a hickey is a massive understatement. It's a reddish-purple blotch about the size of a fucking baseball. 

This is payback for the bite marks, isn't it? he thinks, both annoyed and impressed. Next time he gets his hands on that little freak, he's going to return the favor two-fold. I fucking hope you know what you just got yourself into, Deku!

"Aww," Mina says. "You look so happy."

"Happy?" Denki whispers. "I just got chills. Is, uh... is Izuku gonna be okay? You're gonna let him live, right?"

"So the internet's got three prevailing theories." Eijirou waves his phone screen at Katsuki. He gets a glimpse of some gossip site's homepage, featuring a photo of him in profile with the hickey on full display. "Theory one: you ran into a villain with some kind of vampirism quirk. Theory two: you're dating a vampire. Theory three: it's an allergic reaction and you should be in the hospital."

Katsuki glares at them. “Fuck every last one of you.”

“Wow, he barely even raised his voice,” Denki says. “He really is happy.”

“So my love advice worked, huh?” Mina flips her hair, looking supremely proud of herself, as though she's the one who took Deku’s ass to the beach and wooed the fuck out of him.

“I’m not saying it did. Not saying it didn’t.”

“Doesn’t kiss and tell. That’s wise, bro,” Eijirou says.

Katsuki scowls at him, remembering something. “Why does Deku call you Eiji?”

“Why were you talking about him on your date?” Mina asks.

“We weren’t, it just came up.”

“We’re friends!” Eijirou says cheerfully. “Izuku’s friends with pretty much everyone from our class. He tries really hard to keep up with all of us.”

“Unlike some people.”

Katsuki whips around to face Mina. “Huh? Do you not see me sitting right here with you losers?”

“We're just saying, your man’s a social butterfly,” Denki says, making a half-hearted flapping gesture with his hands. Ugliest fucking butterfly in the world. “Better get used to seeing a lot more of 1-A.”

Katsuki opens his mouth to retort, but finds he can’t. He hadn’t really considered that he would be getting used to this. What does that mean? What else is going to change?

“I mean… you might not have to get used to it,” Mina says, delicately, and Katsuki’s attention snaps back to her.

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, are you done after one date? What do you think happens now? Checked that off the list and now Deku will have sex with you whenever you want?”

“We’ll go on more dates and shit. Or whatever.”

Whatever Deku wants. If Deku gets what he wants, then Katsuki does, too.

“It’s not that simple. You don’t use dates to buy sex,” Mina says. “You don’t win sex tokens like it’s an arcade game.”

“How much more complicated can it be?” Katsuki says, dismissive.

Eijirou and Mina trade exasperated looks.

“Ooh, I know what you could do!” Mina says. “A gift.”

“Deku doesn’t need to be bought.”

“It’s not about that,” Mina says. “It’s about letting him know that you’re thinking about him even when he’s not there.”

“Sweet as fuck,” Eijirou agrees.

“Buy him sexy lingerie. Then it’s a gift for both of you,” Denki suggests. Mina cuffs him on the back of the head.

“Don’t do that. You’re not really there yet,” she says. Katsuki stares at them. Not there yet, meaning Deku in sexy lingerie is something Katsuki could conceivably work up to?

Wow. Dating opens up worlds of possibilities he never considered before.

“Will that make him… uh… happy?” Katsuki asks gruffly, glaring at his beer. “If I get him a gift. Not that I care!”

“Trust me. It doesn’t even matter what it is," Mina says. "It just matters that it’s from you.”

“I guess you were right about the cooking thing. Maybe you’re right about this, too,” Katsuki concedes.

Mina gasps. “You cooked for him?”

“No! Ugh. Kind of.” He sighs and tells them about the beach trip. He does not go into detail about their evening activities, but he accidentally lets it slip that he spent the night at Deku’s place, which tells them everything they need to know.

“Okay, but… did you have fun?” Eijirou asks him. He’s not gushing like Mina. He props his elbows on his knees and gives Katsuki a level look. “Seriously. Don't go out with Izuku just to humor him. If you’re not into it beyond the possibility of sex after….”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Dude. We’re friends. Of course I’m worried. I’m worried about both of you.”

Katsuki snorts. “Fine! I had fun, okay? Will you relax?”

Eijirou beams. Mina looks on the verge of tears. Denki, as usual, just looks vaguely lost.

“I can’t believe after all these years of friendship, you and Izuku are spending quality time together that doesn’t involve punching each other in the face,” Mina says, wiping theatrically at her eyes. “It’s almost like you really like each other. You’ve both grown so much.”

“Of course he likes me. I’m fucking incredible.”

As for whether he likes Deku, that—

Huh. He does like Deku.

He doesn’t just like that Deku’s strong, or that their rivalry has pushed Katsuki to heights he might never have reached otherwise. He doesn’t just like Deku’s body and how good he is in bed.

He feels better when he’s around Deku than he does anywhere else, with anyone else. He liked hanging out with Deku at the beach, messing around in the water and eating together and not-watching the sunset. Deku’s annoying as fuck and probably the most ridiculous person Katsuki knows, but he wouldn’t swap out his company for anyone else’s.

He likes Deku. Likes him exactly the way that he is. And especially likes how he is when he’s alone with Katsuki.

He doesn’t know what to do with that realization, so he focuses on drinking and letting his friends’ laughter drown out the confused voices in his head. He’ll worry about it later.

#

They have more dates. In fact, it gets to where Katsuki spends more of his time outside work with Deku than without.

Most nights they just stay in, either at his place or Deku's. They'll order takeout or eat whatever Katsuki decides to cook, and relax together, playing video games or throwing something on the TV or finishing reports for work. The drawback to that is half the time they fall asleep cuddling on the couch without having sex, but that actually doesn't feel like a drawback to Katsuki.

Katsuki finds himself reaching out to Deku for affection even when there’s no chance of sex happening. He likes holding Deku’s hands, kissing his freckles, nuzzling into his hair and the crook of his neck. During movie nights, Deku sits with his back against the arm of the couch so that Katsuki can sprawl between his legs, resting his head on Deku's chest. Using Deku as a pillow turns out to be more comfortable than sleeping in his own bed. If Deku doesn't like being a pillow, too bad, 'cause Katsuki's not giving this shit up for anything.

But Deku never pushes him away. He indulges Katsuki endlessly.

They go out, too. He takes Deku to a tiny theater that plays old superhero newsreels – really old, from before All Might's time, even. Deku geeks out over that. They take a couple of hiking trips, just a day out from the city, often straying off the path and racing each other through the wilderness. Or they go out to eat, because Katsuki can cook a lot of staples really well, but if they want to try something new – and they're both pretty adventurous eaters – they have to leave the comfort of their apartments. 

He takes Mina's advice to heart, picking up small gifts for Deku here and there. It's like a competition he has with himself to see how many smiles and kisses he can win from Deku. He brings home sweets and flowers, and silly things like a bracelet made of polished stone beads that are the exact same color as Deku’s eyes, or a sticker sheet he finds in the supermarket featuring a cutesy illustrated Shouto with cat ears, which he suspects Deku will find adorable (he does).

He gets used to Deku being around, and finds he doesn't like it when he's not.

Before Katsuki knows it, over a month has passed. They're heading to another class 1-A get-together, this time at Todoroki's apartment. He meets Deku at his place, which is closer, so that they can walk together. Katsuki stretches out on Deku's bed, waiting for him while he gets ready.

"You know," he says, "we don't have to go. We see those guys plenty."

"And what do you suggest we do instead?" Deku replies, from inside his closet. 

"I'll give you one guess."

Despite his suggestive tone, he’s not even angling for sex, not really. He and Deku could stay in and sleep. As far as he's concerned, that's still a better time than squeezing into Todoroki's minimalist living room with their rowdy friends. Not that he doesn't wanna see them ever, but when he knows he could stay here and have Deku all to himself....

Deku's head pops out around the side of his closet door.

"Kacchan, are we, um..."

"What?"

"Are we telling them?"

Katsuki stares at him. "Telling them what?"

"That we're, you know...." He makes a vague gesture at the air between them. Katsuki's face twists into a confused scowl.

"Why would they need to know we're fucking?"

It’s an offhand comment, but for some reason, Deku's face falls. Katsuki barely has a chance to process that look before Deku turns away, tugging a shirt over his head and reaching back into his closet to grab his jacket. 

"Right, yeah. Haha. I was just, you know, just wondering," he rambles. "We don't have to. It doesn't matter, anyway. And, and it's not so weird for us to show up together, we're friends—“

"Of course we're friends," Katsuki says, mystified. Deku shuts up abruptly. He pats down his pockets, checking for his wallet and keys.

"I'm ready," he says softly. Katsuki stares up at him from the bed. He feels, somehow, that he's missed something important.

"Are... are you mad at me?" he asks.

He hates how pathetic he sounds. He just doesn't get what happened to change Deku's whole demeanor like this.

"No! No, Kacchan. I'm not mad."

His smile is so clearly forced Katsuki wants to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he fesses up. There's definitely something wrong. 

But he can’t make him talk. Deku doesn’t fucking do anything he doesn’t want to do, ever.

"Fine," Katsuki spits. "Don't tell me, then."

He brushes past Deku and beats him to the front door. Their walk to Todoroki's place is tense and silent, and Katsuki is so frustrated – more with himself than Deku – he wants to scream. 

As soon as Todoroki lets them in, they split up, Deku bouncing over to Uraraka while Katsuki gets tugged aside by Eijirou and Denki.

"Dude," Denki breathes. "You look pissed."

"Leave it alone," Eijirou says, reminding Katsuki exactly why he keeps him around. Finally. One person who's not determined to drive Katsuki up the fucking wall.

It ends up being a shitty night. He knew they should’ve just stayed home. Deku smiles at him when they catch each other’s eyes, despite the murderous looks Katsuki shoots him in return. They sit on opposite sides of the room, Katsuki torn between maintaining his righteous anger, and desperately wishing he could just walk over there and put his arm around Deku’s shoulders. It strikes him suddenly that it is a little weird that he and Deku spend so much time together alone, but then act like casual acquaintances when they’re in public.

Katsuki gets up to go to the bathroom, and when he comes out, Deku’s skulking in the darkened hall, waiting for him.

“What?” Katsuki snarls.

Deku sighs. “Kacchan, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t give me that. Since when do you hold back from saying what you really think?”

“Since when do you?”

They glare at each other. Deku breaks eye contact first, swiping his hand across his eyes with a laugh.

“What’s so funny, stupid?” he hisses, fighting to keep his voice to a whisper. The last thing they need is those gossipy idiots out in the living room to overhear.

“We are!” Deku says. “All these years and we still can’t communicate to save our lives.”

“You’re the one being all shifty,” Katsuki reminds him.

“Can’t you let it go? I’m telling you, you don’t wanna have this conversation.”

“You don’t know what I want!”

“Pretty sure you don’t know, either,” Deku says, his green eyes flinty in the half-light that filters down the hall from the living room.

“What does that mean?”

But Deku’s shoulders slump like he’s exhausted. The tension dissolves from him, suddenly, like it was never there.

“Kacchan, I don’t want to fight.” Deku’s voice has gone soft. “We’re just having an off night. Can we forget about this?”

“Deku…”

Deku shuffles closer and cups Katsuki’s jaw with his warm hand. Katsuki melts into his touch, because that’s a thing he fucking does now, apparently.

“Please, Kacchan?” he says.

Katsuki feels the fight go out of him. The idea of sweeping whatever just happened under the rug and letting everything be okay again is really, really appealing. Even if something was wrong earlier, Deku seems fine now. Maybe they really are just having an off night.

“Fine,” he grunts. Deku gives him a quick kiss, and then springs away from him as footsteps approach.

But it’s just Uraraka, who probably already knows about them. Deku tells her and his other two favorite dweebs everything, so Katsuki is under no illusion that their secrecy extends to her. He scowls at her habitually, but she’s not paying attention to him. She gives Deku an arch look as she passes, and Deku shakes his head minutely.

It makes Katsuki grind his teeth, because what the fuck does that mean? How is it that Deku can have whole conversations with Uraraka just by looking at her a certain way, but he and Katsuki can’t seem to get on the same page ever?

Uraraka disappears into the bathroom. Then it’s just him and Deku again.

Deku gives him a wry smile.

“I’d better go back,” he says. “They’ll notice we’re both missing, and….”

And their friends aren’t stupid. Katsuki nods reluctantly.

“Text me when you wanna leave.”

Deku does text him, maybe an hour or so later. They go back to his place, where Deku fucks him straight into the mattress, and then they fall asleep wrapped around each other.

Everything seems fine. Normal.

But Katsuki still can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

#

In the days that follow that weird, tense night at Todoroki’s place, Katsuki finds he can’t let it go. He can’t rest when he feels like he’s losing control. He thought he had a handle on this thing he’s doing with Deku— it’s just fucking, right? Simple enough. But suddenly things don’t feel simple.

He brings it up next time he sees Eijirou and the others, at an izakaya this time.

“Okay,” Mina says patiently. “So let’s recap. This started when…”

“Mina,” Eijirou mutters. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

She waves a hand to shut him up. “No. This has gone on long enough.”

What has?

Katsuki peels his fingers off his glass so that he doesn’t toss it at the wall. “I told you. It started right before we left for Icyhot’s place.”

“When you were talking about…?”

“About… how we don’t need to tell everyone we’re fucking. I guess. But why would that bother him so much?”

Mina answers with another question. “Didn’t you say you felt weird when you couldn’t act like you normally do around him?”

“Yeah, but… his reaction was so… it's gotta be something more serious than that.”

Eijirou props his head on his hand, squinting at Katsuki as if deep in thought. “If you had to put a label on you and Deku, what would you say?”

“What?”

"I'm trying to understand something here. Humor me."

Katsuki scowls at him. “The fuck kind of question is that? A label like what?”

“Like, are you friends with benefits?”

“No,” Katsuki snaps. For some reason, that phrase bothers him. It’s not him and Deku, that’s for sure.

“No?” Mina says. “But you’re friends. Who fuck. And that’s all, right?”

“You never even had a conversation about, like, being exclusive,” Eijirou points out. “So I guess you’re both allowed to sleep with other people, huh?”

“No we’re fucking not,” Katsuki says, enraged at the very thought.

“Dude,” Denki says. “You can’t be this dense. Even I’m not this dense.”

His three friends stare at Katsuki expectantly, waiting for him to connect the dots. Which he does, a few furious seconds of thought later.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he says. “Is Deku my boyfriend?”

They give him a round of applause. He doesn’t even have it in him to shout at them.

“When in the goddamn hell did this happen?” he says, more to himself than them. “How the fuck did I let this happen?”

“You’ve gone on, like, a million dates,” Denki says. “You really didn’t notice Izuku locked you down?”

“The dates were just for—”

He can’t finish that sentence. Just for sex, he was going to say, but that’s… not true. It hasn’t been true for weeks.

He shoots to his feet and tosses some money on the counter for his portion of the bill.

“I have to go,” he says.

Eijirou stands, too, hands outstretched in a calming gesture. “Hey, wait. You don’t have to leave— we can stop talking about it—”

“No, I— I’m fucking tired. Fuck off.”

Mina catches him by the arm as he skirts around her chair.

“Katsuki,” she says, very seriously. “Go home and cool off. Don’t do anything before you have a chance to think it through. Okay?”

He shrugs her off and leaves, escaping into the cool night air.

Think it through? Apparently he hasn’t thought anything through since he started fucking— dating?— fucking Deku. He knew he was right to put off sex ’til after his career took off. Sex has made him stupid.

He just didn’t expect this.

When he started this whole “losing his virginity” crusade, he didn’t really have a clear idea of what would come next. He figured if he liked sex he’d keep having it, and if he didn’t, then he wouldn’t. He knew he wanted Deku for his first time, but didn’t consider how Deku would factor into his sex life after that. He decided to keep pursuing Deku, but he never meant to end up like this, so entangled in another person.

He thought he’d check this one stupid thing off his to-do list, and then life would go on like normal.

But now he has a new normal. A normal where he needs someone else. He never wanted to need anyone, ever.

And… it’s all Deku’s fault. In retrospect, it’s painfully obvious. Deku never wanted just sex from him. That’s why he was so set on dating, so relentlessly affectionate all the time. It’s exactly what Denki said: Deku locked him down without Katsuki even noticing.

How long was Deku going to go on just… not saying anything?

In his angry daze, his feet carry him to Deku’s place. He doesn’t even realize he’s there until he blinks, and finds himself in front of his familiar door.

Without giving himself time to reconsider, he knocks.

“Kacchan!” Deku lights up when he sees Katsuki. Then he seems to register that something’s not right, and his smile fades. Which just riles Katsuki up even more.

Deku steps aside wordlessly and lets him in.

“What happened?” Deku asks, leaning back against the closed door. Katsuki stands in the middle of this apartment he’s spent so much time in that it practically feels like a second home, fists clenched, looking anywhere but at Deku.

“So last week,” he says, “when I said I didn’t wanna tell our friends that we’re fucking, and you said that was fine, you were lying to my face. Right?”

“No,” Deku says, sounding bewildered. “It was fine. Why are you still bringing it up?”

“Because you— it bothered you! You accepted it but it bothered you. So why wouldn’t you just say that?”

Deku rubs his forehead. He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them again, they burn with something that could be anger or could just be pain.

“What’s there to say?” Deku says. “Kacchan, we’ve been on dozens of dates, and we spend almost every night together, and you still think we’re just fucking. What can I really say to that? I can’t make you think of yourself as my boyfriend. And it’s not even your fault. It’s mine. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into when we started… doing this.”

“But you thought you could turn it into something else,” Katsuki snaps. “That’s what these dates have been about, right? Trying to make me your boyfriend?”

“And so what if it was?” Deku throws his hands up in frustration. “Clearly it didn’t work.”

“I hate these fucking mind games, Deku!” Katsuki snarls, his voice rising. “Don’t manipulate me into shit! Why don’t you just say upfront what you want?”

“Are you kidding?” Deku says. “How would you have reacted to that, huh?”

“So you decided to have a laugh instead. You figured, let’s see how fucking stupid I can get him to act—”

“Who’s laughing, Kacchan?” Deku shouts. “You think this is a game to me?”

“You played me like it’s a fucking game, so—”

“I just wanted to be with you! That’s all I ever wanted!” Deku’s voice breaks, like he’s close to tears. His lip trembles. He doesn’t cry, though. “You said you wanted to fuck me because of my hero ranking, of all things. Was that the right time for me to tell you I’ve been in love with you my whole life?”

“What?” Katsuki croaks.

“Kacchan, I’ve loved you since before I knew what the word meant,” Deku says. “I don’t even remember a time when I didn’t love you, because the last time I didn’t love you, I was three years old and we hadn’t met yet. But if I’d told you that, you would’ve gone running!”

He’s right. Katsuki kind of wants to run right now. He feels sick. “You should’ve turned me down.”

“I did! And then you asked me again. And I thought, maybe it doesn’t matter why you want me. Maybe just the fact that you want me can be enough. So we had sex, and I thought it was over.” Deku runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He slumps against the door like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “I thought that was all I’d ever get from you, and I was okay with that. Being your first was more than I ever thought I’d have. But then you… you kept coming back to me. And I thought maybe, if I was patient, if I didn’t scare you away, then maybe we could build something real. I didn’t say what I wanted, but at least I know what I want. Do you?”

“I don’t want to fucking feel like this,” Katsuki says.

“Like what? What have I done to hurt you?” Deku pushes away from the door, stalking up to Katsuki. Katsuki takes a step back instinctively, but Deku follows him.

“You haven’t, you’ve just ruined—”

“Ruined your life? By loving you?”

“Ruined me for anyone else!” Katsuki howls.

Deku’s jaw falls open in shock, like that was the last thing he expected Katsuki to say. “Are you saying you—”

He can’t let Deku finish that sentence. He just can’t.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie,” Deku says, with a laugh that sounds painful. “I was sparing you. You were happier not knowing how I felt.”

“You don’t know what makes me happy.”

“And whose fault is that?” Deku’s breathing too hard, like he’s just finished running a marathon. “Tell me what you want. Do you… do you want to end this?”

“I just want to fucking get away from you,” Katsuki says, and he steps around Deku, heading for the door.

“Kacchan,” Deku says, his voice ragged. But Katsuki doesn’t look back.

#

He calls Eijirou. He’s wandering aimlessly through the neighborhood, unwilling to go home but also unwilling to go back to Deku’s place, and he doesn’t— he doesn’t know what to do.

Eijirou picks up on the second ring.

“Hey,” Katsuki says. “I have a problem.”

“What’s up? I’m sorry if we ganged up on you back there. We… we care about you, and we were trying to help. I know we can be a bit much—”

Honestly, Katsuki’s pretty much forgotten all about the izakaya already. Fuck. If he’d listened to Mina when she told him to cool off—

“I went to Deku’s place,” he mumbles into the phone. “We had a fight.”

“Ah. You know… you always manage to work things out. Give him space ’til tomorrow, and then go talk to him.”

Katsuki frowns. He could do that. But somehow that doesn’t feel like enough. Because what’ll they do tomorrow? Go back to how things were before? No, because how things were before hinged on Katsuki being oblivious. It feels like they’ve reached a fork in the road, and Katsuki needs to choose a path.

“Am I in love with Deku?” he says.

“I, uh. I can’t really tell you that,” Eijirou stutters. “No one but you can decide that.”

“Yeah, but what do you think? I’m asking for your opinion.”

Eijirou goes silent for a second.

“I mean… I think… probably, yeah. Things have always been kind of intense between you two. Izuku’s crush on you is like… legendary.”

“Huh?”

“We always figured you didn’t feel the same way, but maybe you just weren’t… in the right place to have feelings like that. You’re so driven, you know, there wasn’t room in your head for anything else. And now that there is, maybe this was… inevitable.”

Inevitable? Him and Deku?

“Why didn’t anyone say anything to me!” 

“Before all this happened, if I’d said, ‘hey, Katsuki, you ever think maybe your feelings for Izuku are a lil homoerotic,’ what would you have done?”

“I would’ve— been a little pissed off. I guess.”

Eijirou laughs. “Dude. You would’ve killed me! I’m talking foaming-at-the-mouth rage.”

“Shut up! Ugh.” Katsuki walks in silence for a few seconds. Eijirou, thankfully, stays quiet, giving him room to think. “I guess now I have to tell him.”

Because Eijirou is right. Fuck. He is in love with Deku. He loves Deku so much it makes him sick. He loves Deku’s obnoxious laugh, and he loves being his Kacchan, and he loves his nerdy obsession with heroes and quirk theory, and he loves his bravery and ambition and compassion and strength.

And it’s not new. That’s the thing that really pisses him off. It’s always been there. He’s always been overwhelmed by the intensity of what he feels for Deku, and he’s channeled that in all sorts of ways: into anger, into rivalry, into obsession, into a fraught, explosive friendship. When they partner up as heroes, Deku is the one person he works with seamlessly – even Ground Zero and Red Riot don’t make a better, more unstoppable duo. He knows Deku inside and out, and Deku knows him, too. Deku’s in his head, in his blood, under his fucking skin.

Katsuki was living in blissful ignorance before. Now that he knows what it’s like to be with Deku— now that he knows Deku loves him— he can’t go back. He can’t make himself forget. This is his new normal, and he’ll just have to adapt.

So what does he want?

Deku asked if Katsuki wanted to end this. But Katsuki is pretty sure that if he loses Deku now, if he loses Deku ever, he’ll never recover. Game over for Ground Zero. A killing blow.

“Yeah,” he says, mostly to himself. “I have to tell him.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Eijirou says.

Katsuki stops. He’s reached a street with a row of shops, and— there’s one particular shop that’s caught his eye. Everything clicks into place. It all makes sense. He knows exactly what he has to do.

“Okay, I’ve got it now, everything’s under control, thanks, bye,” he says, and hangs up before Eijirou can object.

#

When he gets back to Deku’s place and knocks, it’s Uraraka who answers the door.

“What are you doing here?” he snaps, instinctively.

She leans against the doorframe, arms folded. “Izuku called me in tears, so I—”

“Tears?” He shoves past her. “Deku! Where the fuck are you!”

Deku appears from the living room. He’s changed into an oversized hoodie that Katsuki is almost positive belongs to him; his hair is a mess, sticking up everywhere, and his eyes are puffy and red.

“Kacchan?”

“What is she doing here?” Katsuki says, like a dumbass, mostly because if he didn’t say that, he’d have blurted out why are you crying, and… he knows the answer to that.

He’s crying ‘cause Katsuki’s a fucking idiot, that’s why.

Todoroki and Iida appear at Deku’s shoulder.

“Why are they here!” Katsuki says. “You throwing a fucking party?”

“I didn’t think you were coming back!”

“Like I’d run away from a fight!”

“You did run away!”

“No, I just needed to— to figure out what— what the hell I wanted to say!”

Deku falls silent.

Todoroki tilts his head. “Should we go? This seems personal.”

“Only if Izuku wants us to!” Iida says, loyally.

Behind Katsuki, Uraraka has shut the door. She brushes past him, ruffles Deku’s hair, and hooks her arms through the guys’.

“We’ll be in the living room if you need us,” she tells Izuku. So that’s a resounding no to them doing the decent thing and fucking off.

Deku retreats to his room, and Katsuki follows him in, shutting the door after them.

“I can’t believe you came back,” Deku mumbles.

“You can’t?”

“I mean, you— I don’t know where I stand with you. Sometimes you’re so sweet and caring, and I think… you must feel the same way I do,” he says. His voice is steady. Maybe he was willing to cry in front of his friends, but here, with Katsuki, he’s putting on a brave face. Katsuki kind of hates it. “And then sometimes it’s like I’m just someone you fuck, and you could walk away anytime— and I can’t. I can’t walk away. I’ve never been able to walk away, not from you.”

Deku sits down on the corner of his bed, hands loosely clasped between his knees. He looks so lost.

Any trace of anger Katsuki had left in him just drains away.

“I’m s—” Katsuki tries. “I’m s….”

“You don’t have to….”

“Shut up! I’m fucking sorry, alright?” He stomps over to Deku and pulls him up by the front of the hoodie, so their faces are inches apart. “You’re not just someone I fuck. Don’t say that.”

Deku blinks up at him with those big green eyes Katsuki can’t ever seem to hide from.

“But you were mad about being boyfriends,” Deku says.

“No, I was mad I didn’t know we were boyfriends. I don’t like when… I felt like… I thought we were on the same page, and then we weren’t, and you were ahead of me again and I was playing catch-up. I’m always one step behind you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be ahead of you,” Deku says. His hands reach up tentatively and cover Katsuki’s where they’re still curled in the front of his hoodie. “I was trying to go at your pace.”

Katsuki presses his forehead to Deku’s.

“You really love me?”

“Yeah.” He’s too close to see Deku’s smile, but he hears it.

“I love you, too.” It’s probably the quietest he’s ever said anything in his life. Part of him still expects Deku to laugh at him. 

Deku’s breath hitches. “Really?”

“I said it, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. So you’re not leaving?”

“Fuck no.”

Deku pulls away from him, stepping back so they’re not touching anymore. Katsuki’s hands fall to his sides uselessly.

“If we’re going to do this,” Deku says, “then you have to stop assuming the worst of me. Or stop— assuming that I think the worst of you. That I look down on you! You’ve been doing this since we were kids. But I need you to trust me.”

Triumphantly, Katsuki shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small box.

“I’ll fucking show you trust!” he says, and flips the box open, waving it in Deku’s face.

Deku’s jaw drops. He looks like he’s about to keel over.

“Is that—”

Katsuki pulls out the ring and tosses the box over his shoulder. “It’s a ring! An engagement ring. It’s for you, nerd.”

“Kacchan!” Deku half-shrieks. “We can’t just get married!”

“Why not?”

When Katsuki makes a decision, he sticks to it. When he wants something, he takes it. It took him a while to figure out exactly what it is that he wants, but now he knows: he wants Deku. He wants Deku in every possible way there is to want him. He wants to keep him. And when they fight, he wants Deku to have no doubt in his mind that Katsuki is coming back.

“You just— and we just— and—” Deku whirls away and buries his face in his hands. When he turns back around, his eyes are wild. “Why is it always extremes with you?”

Katsuki holds up the ring. “Is that a no? I didn’t hear a ‘no’ in there.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t say no. It’s not a no.”

“Oh?” Katsuki grins, shark-like.

“Give me that.” He tries to take it from Katsuki, but Katsuki holds the ring out of reach, like they’re kids playing keep-away. “Kacchan!” he whines, standing on his tiptoes as he scrabbles at Katsuki’s arm. 

“Do I at least get a kiss first?” Katsuki says. Deku blinks at him as if just now realizing how close they are, chest to chest, one of his arms braced on Katsuki’s shoulder for leverage while the other tugs at his raised wrist.

He smiles, tremulously, his eyes overbright.

“You’re serious about this?”

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” The words come out more gentle than he intended. He lowers his arm and wraps it around Deku’s back.

Deku throws his arms around Katsuki’s neck and kisses him long and slow. With the hand not holding the ring, Katsuki cups Deku’s cheek, wiping away the tears that have finally started to fall. God, it’s been like ten years since the last time he made Deku cry, and now he’s cried twice in one night because of him.

Never again, he tells himself, and holds Deku as tight as he can. He’ll kick his own ass if he makes Deku cry anymore.

Katsuki pulls away to mumble: “So that’s a yes?”

No more misunderstandings. This time, he's making sure he knows exactly what the hell's going on.

“Yes,” Deku says. Katsuki takes his hand and slips the ring on him.

There. Deku is his now. It’s official.

When he looks up again, the sight of Deku makes his heart clench painfully in his chest: his eyes and nose are all red from crying, but he still beams up at Katsuki like he just made all his dreams come true. Katsuki tugs him back into his arms, and Deku presses his damp face into Katsuki’s neck with a happy sigh.

If Katsuki could have his way, he’d take Deku to bed right now. But then they remember Deku’s friends are sitting down the hall.

“Just leave them there,” Katsuki mumbles against Deku’s lips. He pushes his hands under the hoodie so he can run his palms up Deku’s spine. “They’ll figure it out and go home eventually.”

“Kacchan, you underestimate them. They’re tenacious.”

The sooner they kick out the extras, the sooner he can be alone with Deku.

“Fine. Let’s go tell them we’re engaged. I wanna see Uraraka’s face.”

“We’re telling them?”

“What the fuck? You think I’m letting you take that ring off? Think again.”

Deku presses his forehead against Katsuki’s shoulder. “You’re right, what was I thinking?” he says, with a giddy laugh. “Okay, fiancé, let’s go.”

“Alright,” he says. He takes Deku’s hand and tugs him out of the bedroom. His three minions are camped out on the couch, Uraraka with her feet in Iida’s lap and Todoroki sitting on the floor in front of them, flipping through channels on the television.

“We’re engaged,” Katsuki announces. “Now get the fuck out.”

#

Before Uraraka follows the guys out the door – while Katsuki’s in the kitchen, making a snack because Deku let slip he hasn’t eaten dinner, and Uraraka probably thinks he can’t hear her – she tells Deku: “I’m happy if you’re happy, but geez, why is it that everything rational about you flies out the window when it comes to him?”

Deku laughs. “True love, I think.”

That’s right, nerd. Katsuki grins to himself. And don’t you fucking forget it.