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“Sometimes I think you enjoy this more than you like me.”
Izuku turns his head, catches a half-obstructed glance of Katsuki’s face from where he’s stretched out and smiles sheepishly up at him anyway.
“Sometimes I think so too.”
Katsuki stops, lifts his hands away and Izuku frowns instantly. Wanting to reach out to him but hesitant to disturb his work, Izuku hums softly, trying to be as patient as he can manage. He still twists his free arm above his head, waits for Katsuki to take his hand. He does, squeezes it briefly, before he gets back to work on the opposite shoulder while Izuku pulls his hand away again.
“You’re too talented, Kacchan. I have to take advantage while you still let me.”
Katsuki scoffs as he swipes stray ink off Izuku’s shoulder. He leans close to softly press his lips to a still-untouched portion close to the shoulder blade. Izuku relaxes at the touch, relishes in the gentleness. Katsuki swipes at that spot as well, and gets back to work.
Izuku does love this. Loves the closeness, loves the vulnerability, loves that he can trust Katsuki to adorn his skin with something beautiful, loves that this is something he shares with Katsuki. He especially loves looking at it later, knowing it’s Katsuki’s work on him, all over him for anyone to see. It certainly doesn’t hurt that it’s always gorgeous art. He smiles to himself, comfortable despite Katsuki’s tattooo gun lighting pinpricks of pain on his arm up his left shoulder as he goes.
“You’d let me cover your whole body in ink, wouldn’t you?”
He just hums again in response, quiet for once. Comfortable, but only for a moment. He’s jolted, suddenly alert, when Katsuki yanks Izuku’s right hand away from where it was resting on the waistband on his pants. Katsuki shoves it roughly above his head, fingers tight around the wrist.
“You know better than that, Deku,” Katsuki hisses, right in his ear. It sends a shiver down Izuku's spine.
“I wasn’t going to—“
“Do you want some ugly fucked up tattoo because you’re always impatient?” Katsuki waits for Izuku to shake his head no before continuing. “I know this is hard for you, baby. Being patient. Giving me control over you. But you know it’s better to wait.”
That might also be part of why he loves when Katsuki does this. It takes so little for the air to become charged between them. All Izuku has to do to really get him to take over is—
“You’re really resisting this time, huh?”
Katsuki’s grip on his arm tightens until he finds some sort of soft fabric to wrap around both of Izuku’s wrists along with one of the support bars of the bench he’s lying on. A hand soothes over the back of his neck when he groans.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll be so much happier with the finished product if you stay nice and still.”
The promise in his words is clear, and Izuku inhales deeply, bites his lip to quiet himself. Katsuki’s fingers leave the back of his neck but he still feels the lingering ghost of that touch. Pushing Katsuki like this is the only guaranteed way to drive him crazy, to nudge him into having his way with Izuku. Maybe this is why he’s acquired so many tattoos in just a couple short years. Katsuki wants a gorgeous finished product, and while Izuku wants that too, he also wants to drive his boyfriend crazy along the way.
Katsuki doesn’t rush to complete it. He’s never rushed his art, just as he’s never rushed Izuku in anything. In Katsuki’s hands, he feels so utterly safe, yet endlessly impatient. He almost doesn’t notice when the new piece is finished, but he certainly notices when Katsuki unties his hands, eases him into a sitting position and tenderly kisses his wrists everywhere the fabric had touched.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “You drive me crazy sometimes when you won’t stop moving. I just want this to look good.”
“Oh,” Izuku breathes out. He pauses briefly before, “oh please don’t apologize.”
Katsuki looks at him, curious, then really looks him over while Izuku shifts awkwardly, waiting for the moment when he looks down and figures it out. Izuku's not good at subtle when it comes to Katsuki, but he tries sometimes. He desperately wants Katsuki to push him around without asking him for it.
“God, of course. So fucking easy.”
“Yeah. For you I am.” Izuku grins at him, anticipating the eye roll that comes next.
“Easy and cheesy.”
It’s true, and Izuku’s already-thin patience completely evaporates. Izuku leans up to kiss him hard, tugging Katsuki’s hands into his lap but his hands are shoved away immediately. Izuku pushes back, standing up to follow Katsuki and pull them tight together.
“Zero patience,” Katsuki grumbles even as he holds onto Izuku's hips, lets Izuku push and pull him however he chooses. It’s still not what Izuku wants.
“You like it.” Izuku bows his head to press tongue and teeth to Katsuki’s collarbone, tugging his shirt away to leave a trail of marks, lingering over in hopes that they stay. God, if he could only leave marks as permanent as Katsuki does to him.
“I’d prefer you fucking sit--” he interrupts himself to gasp when Izuku bites particularly hard just below the jawline. “Sit still when I’m putting something permanent on your skin.”
“Hmm.” Izuku stops to look up at him. “And maybe I prefer when you make me sit still.”
The look exchanged is heated, but Katsuki looks surprised. Like he forgets how much Izuku wants him to take control. Maybe he doesn’t know. Izuku taps his fingers against Katsuki’s bare skin, waiting.
“Kacchan. I’m asking you to make me do whatever you want.”
The laugh that bursts from Katsuki is dry as he rolls his eyes. He glides his hands over Izuku’s arms, over and over, and every bit he touches feels like it lights the skin on fire.
“I can’t make you do something when you’re always begging for anything and everything.”
Katsuki grabs him by the back of his hair, pulls him in for a messy kiss that’s over before Izuku can really enjoy it.
“I can stop being easy,” Izuku suggests, “if you don’t want that anymore.”
Katsuki’s hands instantly grab hard onto his elbows. Like he hates the idea of Izuku changing that part of himself. He yanks Izuku back, closer to where they started.
“You’re right,” he snarls. “Maybe you do need someone to make you behave.”
Delight courses through Izuku like electricity. It must be obvious on his face from the way Katsuki’s expression softens. Barely. Almost imperceptibly, if he wasn’t so intimately familiar with every inch of Katsuki's face. Katsuki drops backward onto the couch that Izuku likes to ignore in favor of hovering over his boyfriend while he sketches.
Hands reach out for Izuku, who goes willingly, ignoring Katsuki’s hands to instead tug his pants open and over his hips, straddling Katsuki’s lap while still standing.
“You were supposed to wait until we got home,” Katsuki reminds him. “But I’m guessing you came prepared.”
Izuku can’t help his smile as he takes a small bottle of lube out of a pocket from his discarded jeans.
“I didn’t want to wait,” he explains.
“You never do. Easy,” he mutters again. “Slutty,” he adds, hesitation and a question in his voice, but Izuku’s too thrilled to answer verbally, just tries to hand over the bottle but Katsuki refuses it. “No. You do it.”
Izuku peels away layers of clothing until he’s wearing nothing and climbs over Katsuki’s lap once again, tearing clothes off him as well until they're both wearing nothing and the only thing between them is air. He unceremoniously starts opening himself up, quickly going from one finger to two inside before his hand is covered by Katsuki’s. He looks up at Katsuki’s face, the desire he sees there makes him feel warm all over.
“I said to stop being impatient. You really don’t know what that means, do you? Need someone to show you?”
Izuku groans though Katsuki doesn’t wait for him to fully answer before shoving him away until he's standing. He spins Izuku until he's facing away. It’s been so long since Katsuki last pushed him around like this, and he wants to savor the moment.
He’s pulled into Katsuki’s lap again, his legs spread wide. He can feel Katsuki’s chest rising against his back, and for a moment they breathe together, nearly calm for a sliver of a moment. Hands linked together, Izuku lets Katsuki direct him, allowing him to guide their hands to tease around Izuku’s entrance. His own fingers are just tools for Katsuki to use as he pleases, to pour lube over, to be fucked inside himself like a toy in Katsuki’s control. Izuku breathes in sharply when one of Katsuki’s and one of his own fingers slip inside together, but the movement stops and he whines again.
“There we go,” Katsuki murmurs into the back of his neck, breath ghosting over his skin. “Nice to see you know how to be quiet.”
“I told you to make me do what you want,” Izuku reminds him. He lifts Katsuki’s free hand to his face, kisses fingertips. “So fucking make me.”
Every time he hesitates, it endears him to Izuku. It’s adorable, how worried he is, and he basks in just how much Katsuki cares for him. But it’s not just Izuku who is impatient now. This time, thankfully, Katsuki’s not keen on testing that patience. At least for now. He slides two fingers easily into Izuku’s mouth, who savors the movement, humming around them as Katsuki focuses on the movement of both their right hands.
Izuku feels his own finger inside him and it’s weird, feeling it as his own but outside his control. With his free hand he grips Katsuki's thigh, tight enough to leave a bruise that will still be there tomorrow. At least, hopefully.
Katsuki touches him how he wants to, adding fingers while Izuku leans against him, pushes against their combined hands, constantly seeking more friction. The fingers in his mouth fall out, his hand moving to hold tight to Izuku just under his armpit, holding him in place, and away from leaning directly on Katuski on his left side.
"Did you really forget that you have a fresh tattoo on you? Stop or you’ll lean on it.”
Izuku whimpers. Even the reminder is a lot. He could never forget, but it’s back in the forefront of his thoughts now and it makes him melt under Katsuki's hands. He reaches back to hold onto Katsuki's neck, drags him close as he turns his own head to meet for a kiss that Katsuki graciously leans into. The angle is awkward for both of them, but he doesn't pull away until he feels the motion of their fingers stop.
"I could never forget your tattoos, that's why I let you fuck me."
Every part of Katsuki reacts to that. Izuku can sense him rolling his eyes, but mostly he feels fingers dig deep yet again, and it startles him, eliciting a sharp gasp. He doesn’t know how many fingers, or whose fingers, are inside him now, and Katsuki’s ruthless. He can hardly think straight but he knows he wants more than just fingers. He holds tight with one hand and reaches back with the other, grabbing blindly towards Katsuki's lap.
"Kacchan, please, I need, need it— your— please—"
Katsuki presses his nose hard to Izuku's neck. Teeth graze sensitive skin and Izuku's breath stutters, dropping his head so Katsuki has better access. He bites down and Izuku wants to scream even as Katsuki tongues over the spot to relieve the sting. He starts to pull out all the fingers that are inside Izuku, who sighs, missing their presence but knowing what will come next. His Kacchan would never keep him waiting when he's this desperate. Katsuki lifts his head until his mouth brushes Izuku's ear.
"No," he says, and Izuku whines pitifully. "Not yet."
Fingers slide back inside Izuku effortlessly and they stay there unmoving. Izuku lets out a sob. He hooks his feet around the back of Katsuki's calves and reaches back with both hands to pull helplessly at Katsuki's hips, pushing back to meet him wherever he can. Seeking any bit of friction and pressure and closeness he can find on his own. Katsuki growls in his ear, low and threatening. He pulls his fingers out of Izuku again, and he feels Katsuki start to get up behind him, but doesn’t let go. A wet hand presses to Izuku's stomach while the other hand holds his hip, guiding their fall as Katsuki pushes him onto the ground.
"On your hands and knees," Katsuki demands. His voice is so low and filled with lust that Izuku shivers even as he sniffles a little. "I can't trust you to keep your hands to yourself, can I? So hold yourself up for me."
Katsuki grabs Izuku's dick and it makes him want to absolutely burst. He strokes it a couple times, sliding his thumb over the head and Izuku has a wild stray hope that Katsuki will let him find release, and everything in his core tightens expectantly. Instead Katsuki lets go again and Izuku wants to scream. He might actually scream but a hand covers his mouth before much noise can come out.
"We're not close to being done, Deku."
Izuku does sob this time, and he would drop his head if Katsuki's hand over his mouth wasn’t holding him up. Fingers slip inside his mouth again and he bites them. Katsuki's other hand smacks lightly on the exposed, tender skin of his ass. It's too, too close to the sensitive skin of his hole and Izuku can't help it when he bites down again. Hard. But not as hard as the next smack, which grazes the edge of his puffy rim. Izuku doesn't bite again but he does cry around Katsuki's fingers, tears slipping out of his eyes and falling onto the floor below him. His cock twitches helplessly, untouched but insistent against his stomach.
Katsuki withdraws his hand from Izuku's mouth, and both of them are gently placed on either of his hips. There's a brief moment where Izuku doesn't know what's about to happen, doesn't know what he's doing. He starts to turn his head to look behind him but stops when a hot tongue brushes over his hole in broad strokes. Another tear falls and he watches it splash against the wood floor while Katsuki's tongue swirls around the edge of his hole.
The touch is gentle and slow, like a caress. Like they have all the time in the world, and like Izuku isn't already crying for Katsuki's cock. But Izuku's so far beyond a desire for careful or gentle. His own dick is leaking already, and he feels his balls tighten, and he feels so tight and hot and ready to come. Just like this, with nothing inside him except lube and spit and Katsuki's tongue teasing him.
"I'm there, Kacchan, I'm— you, I, I can, just like that. Please, fuck—"
It's a litany of words that couldn't possibly be strung together in any way that makes sense, but he has no doubt that Katsuki knows exactly what he's looking for. Except instead of listening and letting Izuku come, Katsuki pulls his tongue away. Izuku's whole body clenches at being /abandoned/ like that, and he cries again. It's either a cry or a scream; he couldn't possibly care which.
"F-fuck you, Kacchan," he whimpers out, his cock still twitching.
"Not today you won't," Katsuki says and Izuku hates that he can hear the smirk in it.
Fingers wrap around his cock like a vice, and it's... it's overwhelming. He loves when Katsuki's hands are on his dick, loves when Katsuki uses him to find his own pleasure, but all he can think about is how he desperately wants to come. He pushes into Katsuki's fist nonetheless, and Katsuki clicks his tongue in his ear.
"You said I could do what I wanted, Deku." Katsuki's voice is a hoarse whisper in his ear, his breathing harsh and low and sexy. "Are you saying I took it too far?"
They're both far too competitive for that, and too invested in their mutual pleasure to have many boundaries that they consider too unappealing. Izuku wants to fucking come, needs it to happen immediately, but he couldn't dream of disappointing Katsuki. He slumps forward, dropping from hands to forearms and rests his forehead on his arms.
He's sweaty and needy but none of it matters to him if Katsuki isn't ready to give him what they both want. His ass in the air, waiting for Katsuki to take him whenever he thinks the time is right. Katsuki drops his hand from Izuku's dick and kisses the back of his neck again. This time it's softer, slow and lingering, but Izuku doesn't say a word.
"That's it, baby," Katsuki breathes out — Izuku aches at his voice. "You're being so good. You're so perfect like this."
Izuku shivers at the praise. Katsuki slides his hands down Izuku's sides, touching everywhere, his fingers barely touching but every where his hands touch feels like a brand to Izuku. Still, he doesn't move except to bite his own hand when Katsuki slowly, finally pushes his dick inside Izuku. He stops for a moment with only the head of his cock inside. He slowly rocks back and forth, just enough to drive Izuku crazy. Every time the head of Katsuki's dick catches a little on Izuku's rim, he lets out little whines. Katsuki whispers words into Izuku's skin that he doesn't pretend to hear or understand. Not when he's this overwhelmed.
"Please," Izuku begs, his voice shaky. "Please fuck me. Need you."
"Well, since you ask so sweetly."
Katsuki wraps an arm around Izuku's stomach as he slowly pushes inside. His other hand holds onto Izuku's hip to keep them both steady. He waits until Izuku goes motionless again before pressing closer, pausing whenever Izuku pushes against him seeking contact, or just whenever he just wants to stop to leave a bite or a kiss on Izuku's skin. He feels the absence on his left shoulder and upper arm around his fresh tattoo and wishes Katsuki would lay claim there with his teeth next to the ink. Leave his mark, like a signature.
Eventually, when he's all the way in, he stops there, breathing hot and heavy between Izuku's shoulder blades. He feels so tight, and it feels like every place they touch is on fire, especially the cock deep inside him. Izuku feels so full he could cry, feels both content and desperate for everything.
"Kacchan, please. You need to move."
Another kiss against his spine — light, too soft for the moment when Izuku just wants him to move.
"Yeah," he murmurs but doesn't move. "Yeah I can give you what you need."
When Katsuki draws all the way out, Izuku gasps at the aching emptiness. A hand brushes over the side of his jaw, and Izuku tips his face to kiss the palm of Katsuki's hand.
"I've got you."
Katsuki's voice is suddenly so tender it makes a tear slip down Izuku's cheek. A thumb brushes the tear away. For a brief moment, Katsuki stretches over Izuku's back to bring their faces close for a brief kiss. Izuku balances on one forearm to bring a hand to Katsuki's cheek before he takes two fingers under Katsuki's chin to flick him. Katsuki startles, and he looks entirely shocked.
"Just fuck me, Kacchan," he says in the most even voice he can muster.
"Oh fuck you, asshole," Katsuki hisses at him.
But at least he does. Katsuki pushes back inside hard and fast until he's all the way inside again. He doesn't wait for either of them to adjust to it again, instead he immediately sets a pace that's hard and fast and has Izuku falling forward back onto his forearms. He rocks back to meet Katsuki every time he drives into Izuku. He takes everything Katsuki gives him and then tries to take more. Katsuki's hands on his sides feel like anchors holding them both in place. Izuku doesn't care where they go as long as Katsuki keeps fucking moving.
When Katsuki shifts his grip from near both of Izuku's hips to crossing over his stomach, the angle changes. Izuku yells as Katsuki slams into his sweet spot. His whole body feels tightly coiled, like a spring about to be released. He instinctively squeezes around Katsuki's dick inside him. Katsuk falters and he can't quite keep the rhythm smooth. Izuku knows he's not the only one who's close to the edge.
Warm hands drag over Izuku's chest and he carefully lifts a hand to cover one of Katsuki's. Balancing his forehead and his weight against only one hand is awkward and difficult, but worth it as their fingers interlink over his heart. He feels Katsuki's head drop against his lower back. They move faster now, but more erratically.
"K-Kacchan, I need— I'm gonna come, p-please—"
Katsuki doesn't wait for him to finish the sentence. He always knows exactly what's needed. While Izuku clings to fingers laced through his, Katsuki drops his other hand to Izuku's dick. His breath catches in his throat as Katsuki roughly jerks him off. His hand engulfs his cock, and it only takes a few rough strokes before Izuku lets out a sob as he tenses everywhere, right before he releases all over Katsuki's hand and the floor. He slumps, relaxed except where Katsuki still pounds into him.
He's too lethargic to do much. He's overwhelmed, needs Katsuki to finish so he can rest. Katsuki moans as Izuku tightens around him again. His movement is jerky and frantic, and he doesn't remove his hand from Izuku's dick to pull out every last drop. It feels like fire on his spent cock, and it's far too much. He's too overstimulated, and he whimpers.
"Baby please," Izuku whispers, his voice both hoarse and desperate. "Love you so much, just please. Please come."
When Katsuki's nails dig into his chest, Izuku clenches around Katsuki's cock again. This time, it only takes a few last shaky thrusts before he's spilling hot inside Izuku. He slumps hard against Izuku's back, breathing hard. Izuku drops from shaky knees to lie fully on the floor. When Katsuki pulls out, Izuku feels suddenly cold and empty. But then Katsuki curls up on his side, one arm slung over Izuku's back, and he feels a little better.
"Perfect," Katsuki mumbles into his back, rubbing Izuku's back absently.
Izuku huffs out a breath or a laugh. He's honestly not sure which one. And then he turns his face to meet Katsuki's eyes. They're both still breathing hard as Katsuki touches Izuku's face, tracing the freckles on his cheek with a featherlight touch. Izuku, still flat on his stomach, reaches out to run his fingers through Katsuki's hair. His eyes flutter closed at Izuku's touch. Izuku can't resist leaning forward to softly kiss each eyelid.
"You take such good care of me," Izuku murmurs quietly.
Katsuki's eyes fly open, looking suddenly alarmed.
"You don't even see your new piece after I finished it."
Izuku shuffles closer to Katsuki until they're touching each other all over and he can press his face to Katsuki's chest. Under Izuku's touch, Katsuki relaxes a little, but he's still persistent.
"I want you to see it."
Izuku looks up at him, and he could swear he hears doubt in Katsuki's voice. His lips are pursed just slightly, and he's not quite looking at Izuku. Fuck, he's actually nervous. Somewhere between coming down from their orgasms and needing to take care of each other, Katsuki found a way to doubt himself.
"Of course, Kacchan," Izuku assures him, sitting up suddenly. He glances around him and reaches for a nearby hand mirror. "Show me?"
When Katsuki sits up, Izuku immediately drops himself in his lap, wrapping his legs loosely around Katsuki's waist. Izuku hands over the handheld mirror. He takes the mirror but gives Izuku a questioning look that goes unanswered. Katsuki holds the mirror near Izuku's shoulder, and when he turns his face to look into it, he sees the new art.
It's a constellation of stars, with dark reds and blues bursting from the middle out towards the edges of the cluster of stars. He turns his face back to Katsuki without saying a word and kisses him. Izuku's arms slide around those hips to hold him close. There are no expectations behind the kiss, just quiet togetherness and Izuku trying to pass his gratitude on from his mouth to Katsuki's. He pulls away slowly, but Katsuki tries to follow his lips. Izuku lets him.
"It's gorgeous," Izuku says, his voice low. "Everything you create is gorgeous and I love it. I love you."
"Yeah, yeah, you love me for the tattoos, I get it."
It's lighthearted, but Izuku pulls away to look seriously at Katsuki.
"I'd love you without the art, don't forget that. But I love that you have such a public claim on me. There's no mistaking who I belong to when I look like this."
This time there's no eye roll, and only the barest hint of smirk. Katsuki draws close and rests his forehead against Izuku's. He closes his eyes as he holds onto Izuku's hips, easily keeping close.
"Good," he mutters. "I love my own personal canvas."
"Now who's cheesy," Izuku laughs, and it makes Katsuki smile at him. For a moment there's nothing but love and joy between them.
"Let's go home," Katsuki whispers.
Izuku looks at him closely, taking in the sweet smile and easy contentment of the moment. He'd be happy if he never moved from this spot at all.
"Yeah, just give me a moment to bask in how much you love me."