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1
It’d been seven years since Izuku first broke his bones for sport in front of the former class 1-A, and finally, Katsuki was starting to understand Izuku’s motives.
Perhaps it was shortsighted to think (which tracked well with Izuku circa age fifteen), but it was an inconvenience to worry so much about injuries when the business end of the equation had a rampaging villain that had to be defeated, and the other side had a healer who, nine times out of ten, could fix the problem to an immediately workable degree.
So was breaking Katsuki’s leg the right decision? Hell yes. Something was going to break on that four-story fall, and Katsuki was always going to choose his legs to fall victim instead of the civilians who’d been his arms. A flawless victory, snapped tibia and fibula aside.
And now they were healed…mostly. He’d been in the hospital for three days, but two of those had just been sleeping off the fatigue of rapid-bone growth. And he was stuck in a boot for the week (no crutches, though, hallelujah), but Katsuki was sure that was just a conspiracy to keep him on desk work for a few days.
As it was, the rest of today was going to be spent at home. Katsuki’s eyes bleared at the dove-gray walls of his bedroom, the way he’d left the room perfectly neat before work three days ago. The only things differentiating it from the hospital was the lack of machinery and mass reproduced art on the walls. His were bare but for his curtains and mounted TV. He’d have to decorate some day.
So, as he lay down in bed (two days of bed rest and he was still fucking exhausted), he turned to his boyfriend, and said, “Fuck me.”
Izuku’s arms had been outstretched, ready to help Katsuki into bed (fuck that, he didn’t need help. He could have used his quirk and blasted himself into bed arms only, if need be), but they suddenly recoiled in and he took a sudden step back. “Wh-What?”
Katsuki was already taking off his shirt. “C’mon, I’ve barely seen you in weeks outside you showing up to see me in the damn hospital. I can’t remember the last time we fucked.”
That was a lie. He actually could remember that it had been three weeks ago (far too long, frankly, but they’d been busy. They were always busy) and it had just been a blow job and some hand stuff before Raccoon Eyes’ fucking baby shower. Luckily, it had made them late (Katsuki had a strict party policy of last in, first out, while Izuku preferred first in to help with set up, and last out to help with cleanup. This time they’d compromised and Katsuki found himself throwing away pink balloons and wrapping paper for forty-five minutes.)
“You’re injured, Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed, and Katsuki couldn’t help but scoff, one that scratched up the whole back of his throat, just for emphasis.
“You’ve punched villains stupid with both arms broken—I can be fucked stupid with a mostly healed leg.”
Izuku’s eyes narrowed against Katsuki’s flawless logic. There was nothing that Izuku could say to outwit Katsuki in this argument that, more importantly, Izuku assuredly already knew he was on the wrong side of. Because, for however much Katsuki wanted it, Izuku was almost guaranteed to want it more. Katsuki was trained in recognizing patterns in behavior and this one had been obvious for ages now.
Katsuki kept his eyes on Izuku’s as he reached for his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms (the benefits to keeping a tidy room) and held one in each hand.
Izuku exhaled (the first sign of defeat—showing a soft stomach to the enemy) and looked to the side, saying “Fuck it,” before reaching behind and pulling off his shirt as well.
A smile rose quickly to Katsuki’s face, making their first kiss as much teeth as lips and tongue as Izuku gingerly maneuvered over Katsuki, being mindful of his leg.
Katsuki began to harden in his pants immediately, looking forward to a quick, flash in the pan sex session that would leave him properly wrung out and ready for one last good sleep before a mindnumbing week of desk duty. But who knew, maybe the boring work days would leave him available for more rendezvous like this with his boyfriend than usual.
“God, I’ve missed you, Kacchan, I’m so happy you’re okay,” Izuku whispered into Katsuki’s neck as he ran his fingers around the elastic waist of Katsuki’s sweatpants. Doting boyfriend that Izuku was, he’d brought Katsuki an easy change of clothes at the hospital so that he didn’t have to stump home in his damaged hero suit. It had already been sent for repairs and would be good as new once Katsuki was cleared for action again.
Katsuki bit his lip, the onslaught already sending tingles down his neck, landing as bubbling warm fuzzies in his chest. He reached for Izuku’s shorts and pushed them down as far as he could without preamble. They landed just below the swell of Izuku’s ass, and Katsuki gave each cheek a hard squeeze. Izuku’s ass was one rare part of his body that was soft and nearly scarless; it exaggerated the roughness of every callus roughening Katsuki’s hands.
“Take ‘em off,” Katsuki growled.
“Yes, just—” Izuku trailed off, grinding his still clothed front against Katsuki’s own, fingers below the waist of both Katsuki’s pants and boxers. “You’re so warm.”
He was warm, hot, in fact. Alone in the hospital with nothing but his gown and a threadbare blanket had been regrettably cold, and the new heat was refilling him rapidly.
“Off,” Katsuki demanded again, and this time Izuku complied. He hastily kicked his shorts down his legs and off the end of the bed before attempting to do the same with Katsuki’s, only for one leg to get stuck at the boot. Izuku looked to Katsuki.
“Leave ‘em,” Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku by the hair and pulling him down for a kiss.
Katsuki bent his legs, the heavy boot making the act a little more lumbering than usual. The fabric of his pants stretched between Katsuki’s thighs, digging into the thick, resistant muscle. Frankly, he had half a mind to have Izuku tear them down the seam with One for All (or Katsuki could just burn them through himself).
But, for now, he dealt with it, as Izuku fumbled blindly for the lube and popped the cap. Izuku had never come into possession of much patience, and Katsuki didn’t have particularly much to spare at the moment. Therefore, the lube landed cold and plentiful between Katsuki’s legs before Izuku dove in to warm it up with his fingers.
After weeks, Katsuki was tight, and wouldn’t be able to do something without at least a sloppy bit of prep. But Izuku was nothing if not studied, and began curling one and then two fingers inside Katsuki almost immediately, finding the spots that made him tighten up in pleasure and then loosen in the desire for more.
As Izuku worked, Katsuki kept one hand firmly in his hair and the other moved down to his ass, pressing them hip against hip so that their cocks slotted together with moistened friction. The barrier of Katsuki’s pants was pressing against Izuku’s middle, but neither man particularly minded as they made contact everywhere else they could.
When Izuku had finally opened up Katsuki thoroughly (well, somewhat thoroughly. Thoroughly enough), Katsuki’s legs were embarrassingly weak. Blame the boot, the short dry spell, the atrophying two days in bed—Katsuki had a need. And he scratched Izuku’s working arm down the side to make that need clear.
Nonverbal communication had long been good for them, so that was all Izuku needed to pull back and slip on a condom. His oft-broken fingers weren’t the most deft, but he was practiced and motivated.
There was something Katsuki always enjoyed about that first press in after a decently long bout without sex (or sex toys). The stretch, the reminder of Izuku’s girth, the promise that Katsuki would be feeling their coupling for hours afterwards. It was worth the extra time needed with prep (really, the extra time was nothing but good unless they were in a hurry) just to have that whole experience again and again. Like the first time, but with the benefits of being trained in being good at bottoming. At having formed those delicious neural pathways that told him that yes, this was good, and it was right. It was an ancient way of people enjoying one another and he and Izuku were just the two lucky ones benefiting right now.
Izuku hissed as he bottomed out, giving away his pleasure after the long wait too. Again, Katsuki’s stupid fucking pants grew tight between them, a pink line already forming across Izuku’s middle like jagged teethmarks.
“This is bullshit,” Katsuki muttered, his leg already cold and numb at the toes from being angled away from and above the rest of his body. This fucking boot was going to be the death of him.
Izuku, seeming to agree, grabbed both of Katsuki’s legs just above the knee, and swung the good one over his shoulder while holding the boot in one hand, making his bicep ripple and flex. Then he pulled out and thrust back in and Katsuki groaned. Much better.
This was medicine. This was what the fucking hospital was missing. All thoughts about the injury and the shitty coming week of work and bothersome recovery were overwritten as Izuku worked into him, pacing slow and steady, each thrust going nearly his whole length out before finding home back inside Katsuki again. It was good to start, but Katsuki needed satisfaction.
“You don’t have to be gentle. I won’t break, fuckhead,” Katsuki breathed. His injury wasn’t in his goddamn ass, after all.
“Gimme a second,” Izuku said, but that’s all he needed as he squeezed Katsuki’s legs tight and pushed hard inside him, to the point that Katsuki could feel every angle of Izuku’s pelvic bone against his ass.
Thank you, Katsuki thought as the tension was pounded out of him. Better than any physical therapy massage he’d ever received, that was for sure. Despite being folded in half.
He just grunted and groaned, though, enjoying the way Izuku’s voice rang out over his. Where Katsuki’s noises were low and guttural, direct answers to Izuku’s thrusts hitting his core and pushing sounds out of him, Izuku’s voice was keening, increasing in volume the closer he got.
They started as little huffs, higher in pitch from the get-go than anything Katsuki produced. Then, strained “Hahs” started to form before Izuku would inevitably lose himself entirely to babbling. It was a progression Katsuki was treated to almost every time they got to make love, at least when the volume could be spared.
Katsuki coaxed the sounds out of Izuku, freeing the other man’s mouth by beginning to work his mouth down his neck, pulling a brand new, “Haah, Kacchan,” out of him.
Encouraged, Katsuki nibbled at the tender skin at the base of the throat—another rare soft spot on Izuku—coloring a bruise that his hero costume would easily cover.
“Wow, Kacchan, you’re so—”
Katsuki bit harder, Izuku’s words destroyed and turned to a thin whine before he licked up to Izuku’s ear.
Izuku moaned, hiking Katsuki’s legs up higher, pulling at the thick, tight muscles of Katsuki’s hamstrings. Damn hospital stay, keeping him out of shape. Katsuki breathed through the stretch and took one hand off of Izuku to reach down toward his own weeping cock.
Then, Izuku thrust in hard, the kind of hit to take Katsuki’s breath away, and sat there, deep as he could go. He reached under Katsuki’s pants and brushed his hand away, grabbing Katsuki firmly around the base.
“Let me, Kacchan.”
Katsuki, usually so full of defiance and rebuttals, kept his mouth shut. Teeth clenched, in fact, as he hissed, cool breath sucking between his teeth. It was almost too much—the heat of being struck by dueling pleasure, the speed of his incoming peak suddenly doubling.
“Kacchan, Kacchan,” Izuku chanted, in tune with the slap of the fleshy base of his hand hitting Katsuki’s lower abs, clenched for dear life.
“Deku,” Katsuki strained, both hands resorting to Izuku’s back, an effort to lay claim to every inch of Izuku’s skin that was yet unmarred. It was all his, his landscape to tend and burn with the seasons.
“I…” Izuku stuttered, his voice becoming stopped up and overwhelmed by everything else. “I…Kacchan.”
Izuku began stroking Katsuki with real vigor. Not a squeeze too tight, unaware of his own strength (no, Izuku was very aware of his own strength by now), but with all due speed. Speed that was only bearable from the copious globules of precome Katsuki had already drooled out. But even still, there was a slight burn from the friction that had Katsuki caught between wanting to lean in and pull away—like every other moment he’d shared with Izuku in their lives so far.
He came, suddenly and violently, streams of hot spend lashing over Izuku’s fist and Katsuki’s own stomach. And then he was tight inside, tighter than he had been to begin with, and Izuku’s voice was strangled, squeezed nearly as tight as his cock. Suddenly, there was no deeper he could go inside Katsuki, not without more drag than was comfortable in the immediate aftermath of an orgasm, so he ground in, gyrating his hips where he could before he too followed in completion.
The whimper that broke loose when Izuku finished was beautiful, the all-powerful number-one hero reduced to whines, naked and sweaty atop his lover. Izuku’s collapse wasn’t quite as boneless as usual, his skin having no opportunity to glue to Katsuki’s, sweat via sweat, as the damn sweatpants got caught between them once again.
“Stupid, fucking…” Katsuki breathed, the words lacking their usual bite as his breath slowly came back under him. “Deku, do something about my damn legs.”
“Oh,” Izuku grunted, the syllable coming out liquid, formless.
He moved Katsuki’s legs from his hand and his shoulder respectively, and the wooden creaking of Katsuki’s knees made itself known immediately. As Izuku straightened out Katsuki’s bum one, he winced, his muscles rebelling against the point of tension they’d been held at for so long.
“Oof, we should not have done that,” Izuku said, post-nut clarity coming to him as he reached for one of their discarded shirts and wiped the worst of their crime off of his hand and then Katsuki’s stomach.
“Shut up,” Katsuki said, struggling to balance his weight on his good leg and his upper back as he brought his pants and boxers back over his hips. It was never a mistake, not with them. Katsuki wouldn’t take back a single moment in love with Izuku for all the legacy in the world. He’d be more likely to give up his own life.
Izuku followed Katsuki’s lead and grabbed his shorts off the floor before snuggling in against Katsuki’s side, putting his hand against Katsuki’s chest. That relaxation that Katsuki never felt in the hospital fell heavily over him, like a weighted blanket or submerging in a sensory deprivation tank. Katsuki turned his head towards Izuku’s head, smelling the sweat over top of what lingered of his melon shampoo.
“Gotta go, Deku,” he mumbled, half of his face unmoving against his pillow. “You have actual work tomorrow.”
“You have actual work too,” Izuku protested. Though they both knew what he meant. “Wanna stay, wanna help.”
Continuing his dissent, Izuku wrapped a leg around Katsuki’s good one, and shoved his other underneath.
“Fine, you can stay, you can’t help,” Katsuki compromised, pulling a sheet half over his body. It wasn’t even that late—they’d both be up again shortly after sundown, guaranteed. Their sleep was fucked.
“Mm, okay.”
Behind that sweet smile, no one would suspect the man of telling a flat-out lie, but there he was. Lying to Katsuki’s face, and Katsuki was going to let him. Sometimes it was easier like that.
It was hard for it to feel like a lie when they were both sharing it.
2
Izuku could not look away. Physically. His eyes. Were stuck.
Not a quirk accident or anything, although Izuku considered it for a moment as his brain managed as best it could on low battery mode. But it didn’t seem likely, as his and Katsuki’s shift had yet to actually start. Yeah, no, wow, he was frozen.
“Goddamn it, Deku—every season? Seriously?”
Izuku blinked. Katsuki’s hands were clapping in front of him, the softened thwap echoing against the metal and tile of the locker room through the thick fabric of his gloves. The action, however, drew Izuku’s attention to Katsuki’s pectorals, which squeezed and unsqueezed beneath their new covering with every beat of his hands.
The thick, black material of Katsuki’s winter uniform should have rendered the definition of Katsuki’s well defined chest hidden, lacking visual depth, but no. The way that the deep V of Katsuki’s summer uniform had given way to a broad turtleneck only turned the whole game into a tease. It told Izuku’s mind to imagine what yesterday’s uniform had revealed. And that, of course, led him to imagine all the things that only he was able to see. Out of uniform. And well, then he was gone.
“Hey, shitnerd—”
“Let’s go to the showers, Kacchan,” Izuku suggested suddenly, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and wasting no time in dragging him in that direction.
The rolling of Katsuki’s eyes behind him was practically audible, sounding like God, this again and damned hero costume fetish. But his arm was pliable behind Izuku, his body easily being dragged from the lockers to the showers.
“Every fucking time, Deku,” Katsuki complained (if only for show), as Izuku dragged him into a stall and immediately fell to his knees. His kneepads rendered the action almost silent, instead highlighting the sound of Katsuki’s fly being unzipped. “I was just naked, I put on clothes, and now you wanna fuck?”
“Shh, Kacchan, careful…” There was enough growl in Katsuki’s voice that the echo probably wasn’t fully intelligible, but Izuku hardly wanted to stack risk atop risk. Even if it was a bit thrilling.
Izuku could admit that Katsuki was right; this did happen every season. Every time Katsuki switched over from summer to winter or winter to summer (winter was especially good, because then the switch back would be just a few months away), Izuku was struck, yet again, by how awesome he looked in his hero uniform. How badass, and brave, and strong, and delectable. Izuku placed his hands on the fronts of Katsuki’s thighs, wrapped his thumbs around the backs and squeezed. Then he pulled Katsuki’s still-soft cock out of the flap of his briefs, into his mouth, and began to get to work.
“Fuck, if this is all it takes…” Katsuki began, threading his fingers through Izuku’s hair, “I should—shit—take some spare costumes home.”
Izuku hummed at Katsuki’s idea, nuzzling his head up into his hands. Katsuki was already beginning to harden in Izuku’s mouth—Izuku could nearly taste the hot, throbbing pulse on his tongue as Katsuki’s cock grew heavier and heavier.
“Like that, Deku?” Katsuki goaded. “Maybe bring some to yours and mine—whatever your filthy mind wants.”
The idea of Dynamight spread atop his bed (either of their beds, or anywhere, really) was mind numbing, life shattering. Izuku could barely stand it. He whined around Katsuki’s cock, quieting only when Katsuki put a soft hand to his throat. No pressure, just a reminder.
“Quiet, dumbass, or you won’t get to do this in the spring.”
Katsuki’s grin was spread wide over his teeth, like what he’d said was a joke (both well aware that it wasn’t). Izuku hushed up, straightened his posture, and got back to work. It was easy to forget, really, while doing such a familiar activity, that they weren’t at home. They couldn’t go wild loving on each other, not here. No, this had to be quick, and efficient. Izuku could do that too.
He sucked Katsuki down in one go, quieting himself but working a strangled moan out of Katsuki. His hands wrapped around behind Katsuki, squeezing his ass just above the crease of his thighs. He pressed his fingers in hard, wanting to make up for the thick, flame retardant fabric of the pants separating them. Blue sparks flew from his fingertips and Katsuki groaned, his arm flying over his eyes as his head tilted back.
They were lucky that they could get away with this with little risk of discovery. All the sidekick teams at the agency had graduated shift times, so whole groups of heroes weren’t clocking out at the same time. So no one was likely to return from or leave for a shift right now except for them. It didn’t guarantee privacy, but it did lend Izuku some extra sense of permission.
Or maybe he’d just come to like a little danger over the years.
Izuku kept up his grip on Katsuki’s ass, his knuckles stiffening, but the contact oh so delightful as he pressed his nose against the elastic to Kastuki’s underwear. On a normal day, he’d be nosing against the trail of flaxen hair there, but not today. Today, he was with Dynamight.
“Deku,” Katsuki groaned, (maybe warned) as Izuku gave a good suck before coming up for air.
Izuku’s eyes were watering from the lack of air, the repeated intrusion in his throat, but he felt like they were twinkling. It was such an unquestionable victory to have Katsuki here, willingly taking precious moments away from hero work (time that they’d make up—Izuku swore) while Izuku could take what he wanted from the man he admired most. Whether a change in hero costume triggered it or not, he could never get enough Katsuki.
When he sunk down again, Izuku was sure that Katsuki was getting close. His eyes were screwed tight, one hand nearly ripping Izuku’s hair from the roots and the other having moved to grip the top of the stall wall. The self-satisfaction was blooming already in Izuku’s chest, giving him that much more motivation to succeed. The sooner Katsuki came, the sooner Izuku could see him as Dynamight in action. Truly, Izuku didn’t know which he wanted to see more.
Izuku trailed his tongue up Katsuki’s shaft, zigzagging over a bulging vein as he did. Then he sucked his way back down, drool escaping his mouth, probably wetting Katsuki’s uniform a little. Izuku could only imagine how sex wrecked his hair would be by the time they were done. How pink his lips would be from taking Katsuki’s cock in again and again. How visibly pleased he’d be to anyone who saw them once they started their shift.
“Fuck, Deku, I’m cumming,” Katsuki groaned, head hitting metal behind him.
Pain blossomed along Izuku’s scalp as Katsuki gave one last tug on Izuku’s hair, all while keeping the man in place on his cock. Izuku thrilled at it, head feeling light and empty as he swallowed and swallowed down Katsuki’s load.
When Izuku finally slid off Katsuki’s cock, already softening again, he looked up at Katsuki with heavy eyes and a lazy smile twerking half of his mouth. “Mm, thank you, Kacchan.”
He zipped Katsuki’s fly back up and allowed Katsuki to lift him from under his arms, putting them face to face again. Izuku’s cheeks were hot, the lack of oxygen having caused a blood rush to his face, but they seemed to flush all over again as he saw the front of Katsuki’s hero costume once more.
“Really, Deku?” Katsuki demurred, though his voice was probably a little breathier than he would have preferred. He got closer so that his breath was right on Izuku’s neck. “Already can’t handle it?”
He gave Izuku’s straining erection a few good palms, kissing him on the lips as he did so. He could assuredly taste those bitter, salty notes coating Izuku’s tongue, but that had never stopped either of them before. He pulled away, lips a little pink now to match both of their faces.
“Take care of you later, Deku.”
3
“Deku,” Katsuki growled, anger already blooming. “You’re supposed to be ready to go.”
Katsuki was certain, certain, that he’d instructed Izuku to be ready, in his costume, twenty minutes before they had to leave. Of course, that twenty minutes that he’d factored in had been just in case the nerd failed at his task (he was known all around their agency and indeed the whole hero network for getting in the zone with a task and having to be reminded of meetings, meals, and, of course, dates.)
“The rankings have already been made, Kacchan,” Izuku said, casually opening the door to let Katsuki in. “They’re not determined by when we get there.”
Izuku’s face was pink, his forehead just a little bit shiny, and Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “You sick or something?”
“No, just come in, Kacchan.”
Katsuki bent down to take off his shoes, the whole chore feeling like a waste of time before he even got to the first buckle. He was donning his hero costume sans accessories. He’d have duds on for the actual ceremony (no need for live grenades on his belt for a froufrou ceremony, even if his hips felt bare and hollow without them) and they simply were not wearable in the car.
When he was through, the boots heavily discarded, Izuku pulled Katsuki from the genkan and kissed him before Katsuki’s feet were even flat on the ground. It was not a welcome home kiss, nor a congrats on being the number two hero in Japan kiss. This was a riled up Izuku trying to start something with Katsuki kiss. Katsuki pulled back.
“You’re supposed to be getting dressed, idiot.”
“But, Kacchan, I prepared.”
“You’re not prepared, you’re wearing a t-shirt that says dressed up and has a hole in the shoulder.”
Katsuki stuck his pinky in the hole, making it stretch wider as the thin threads pulled and snapped.
“No, Kacchan,” Izuku said, taking Katsuki’s hand off his shoulder, and threading their fingers together. “I prepared.”
Katsuki blinked, Izuku’s words no more elucidating on the second listen than the first. “Say something helpful, Deku.”
Izuku leaned in again, his mouth drawing towards Katsuki’s ear, his breath tickling the shell.
Whispering had never made sense to Katsuki before Izuku. Before Izuku, he’d never shared secrets, shared intimacy. He’d never had anything to say that couldn’t be yelled. But that was different now, so he leaned in as Izuku said, “I want you.”
He recoiled. “Deku, no. We’ve got places to be, and my ass didn’t sign up for—”
“No, Kacchan,” Izuku put a hand on Katsuki’s chest, and the way that Izuku’s eye sparkled with excitement up at him kept him from barreling on anyway, “I want you to take me.”
Katsuki’s mouth dried. “Wha—” he started, clearing his throat, “What are you talking about.”
“I prepared, Kacchan!” Izuku said, his excitement overwhelming his seduction. “I’ve been practicing for weeks!”
“And you thought now was the right time?” Katsuki’s voice went up in pitch, higher than he would have liked, but couldn’t help it. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting when he’d come to pick Izuku up.
“Prepping took longer than I thought,” Izuku said, that blush that had been present since he’d answered the door deepening and ripening. “You do a lot of work.”
Katsuki stared dryly at him. Of course he did.
The thing was, they’d tried this before. Ages ago, at the beginning. They’d tried that arrangement, and, well, it hadn’t been successful. So, they’d fallen into their way of doing it, and Katsuki was satisfied with it. It wasn’t like things were stale—no, whatever words described what things felt like between them, it was anything but stale. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t consistent, but it was what Katsuki wanted. He was what Katsuki wanted. However he got him.
But it wasn’t that he didn’t want things…the other way. He’d just taken it off the table. But with Izuku looking at him, so excited in a way that Katsuki didn’t think that he’d see. No nervousness or uncertainty. And twenty minutes really wasn’t that short a time if he’d already prepared…
“Fuck, alright,” Katsuki said, pushing Izuku backward with one hand and unclicking his belt with the other. “Towel, lube, condom, and set an alarm on your phone. Twenty minutes—nineteen.”
Izuku grinned. “Yes, Kacchan!”
He took long, fast strides toward his bedroom, tapping his phone with one and and pulling Katsuki behind him with the other, like he’d get lost. Like they hadn’t fucked on or against nearly every surface of that apartment, like they hadn’t fucked in most of the ways the two of them could think of. Except this way.
It turned out that Izuku had already set out all the necessary props, coloring Izuku’s use of the word prepared a different way. Katsuki could have his head for dropping this on him when they were on a time crunch, but it could also be a blessing in disguise; Katsuki wasn’t convinced he’d be able to last very long.
Izuku’s shirt was already coming off, his lounge pants soon to follow—he wasn’t about to waste any of their limited time. Katsuki’s costume was a bit more of a hassle, though he’d never been more grateful to not have his accessories on. His pants fell to the floor with a clang, and his shirt fell softly after. Then the two men were tumbling into bed, Katsuki atop Izuku in a position of newfound power.
Every part in sex had power, because every part held danger. Katsuki was acutely aware of the twin power and responsibility one had when topping in anal sex—he’d learned it with Izuku. And, for a guy who didn’t often feel nervous, it was troubling to look down at the man underneath him and feel it in his palms, an unsteadying rush of adrenaline tingling down his limbs.
“Are you okay with this, Kacchan?” Izuku asked when the silence went on too long, brushing his fingers lightly through the hair right past Katsuki’s temple. “We don’t have to do it now—I probably shouldn’t have sprung—”
“It’s fine, idiot, I just needed a minute.”
Izuku grinned cheekily. “We have about seventeen.”
“Fuck, let’s get on with it,” Katsuki said, diving in.
“Okay,” Izuku replied, and the sound was immediately swallowed by Katsuki’s mouth.
They kissed for a moment, chapped lips meeting against chapped lips. There was always a bit of roughness between them, even at their most tender. The scars and calluses on their skin, the drag of the towel underneath them, separating them from Izuku’s soft blue, yellow, and red, sheets. Katsuki trailed down Izuku’s neck, earning a warm hum out of the other man, finding softness where he could. Kissing, Katsuki could do, always.
Izuku gasped, his breath already coming up short as Katsuki lowered himself and sucked against his nipple. “God, I love you.”
“Mm,” Katsuki hummed against Izuku’s warm skin. “Me too.”
Katsuki wanted to take his time, slowly take Izuku apart so that he could enjoy the rise, get that much higher so that the fall would be that much better (it was always better that way for Katsuki). The idea of this time being a negative sequel to their first attempts, or the rougher times that Katsuki had experienced bottoming made his chest ache. He only ever wanted to be good for Izuku.
He’d promised to never cause him pain again.
So Katsuki reached down to feel what exactly Izuku had done for prep. The amount of lube that had been used was apparent before Katsuki even made it to the cleft of Izuku’s ass—it was spread to the cheeks, even making it a bit down his thighs. Silicone-based, if the lasting power was anything to go off of.
“You don’t have to do much,” Izuku breathed. “I stretched too.”
“Fuck, I woulda loved to see that, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, catching Izuku’s mouth once more as he reached for the lube—for his own fingers if nothing else. And, of course, eventually his cock, which was already rising right on schedule with their time crunch.
“Next time,” Izuku promised, biting Katsuki’s lower lip before pulling away with wide eyes. “Oops, marks.”
For once, Katsuki found himself wishing that he wasn’t in the top ten. That he wasn’t on that stage he’d been dreaming of his whole life (despite the fact that the ceremony had only been around for seven years). Then he wouldn’t have to worry about his lips looking like he’d just kissed his boyfriend for hours, or else downed a bottle of red wine. He wouldn’t be concerned about being late and could make love to Izuku all evening. But no, his lifelong dream was a cockblocker, twisted and cruel.
When he sank a slick finger inside Izuku, it was familiar. Even if he’d never fucked Izuku before, ass play had never been off the table—though he’d never been so wet and open before. He kept his eyes on Izuku’s face, watching for any sign of discomfort, any sign of pain. But there were only smiling and soft little groans. He was moving like he did on the uncommon mornings Katsuki allowed himself to sleep over, waking up happy to see the world.
“You can be rough—I can take it,” Izuku said, wiggling his hips as though demanding that Katsuki do more.
“Like fuck you can,” Katsuki scoffed, prodding further with a second finger and earning himself a gasp.
“I can,” Izuku fought back. “Do three.”
Katsuki did, keeping his eyes on Izuku the whole time and God if the sight didn’t make him hard. Izuku was biting his lip, feet flexed at the ankles, hands over his head, clutching the pillows. Over the years, Katsuki had witnessed Izuku in all forms of pain, physical and mental—this wasn’t either of those. Katsuki wanted to know how long Izuku had been practicing this, was seeping precome at the thought of Izuku teasing himself for weeks now, even months, in preparation of taking Katsuki.
“Been thinking about me while you stuff yourself, nerd?” Katsuki asked as he thrust three fingers, feeling around for what brought out the best reactions in Izuku, memorizing them for later.
“I’m always thinking about you, Kacchan,” he breathed, the words falling out like rain from clouds, fast and true.
That was it—Katsuki had to have him. He would have liked to have worked Izuku for longer, but Izuku had been right; he’d prepped himself well beforehand. Any longer would have only been indulgence—indulgence that he planned to take and take and take in the future.
“Fuck, Deku,” Katsuki groaned, pulling out his fingers and kissing Izuku hard on the mouth. Hard not because it felt better that way, but to remind Izuku what he did to him. That Katsuki wanted to absolutely devour him at every moment. That he was an absolute bastard for doing this just before the biggest event of the year.
“Please, Kacchan, please, I’ve waited so long.”
“Impatient asshole,” Katsuki grumbled as he reached for the condom. “Couldn’t have waited till the party was over.”
“I really couldn’t.” Izuku grinned, eyes staring as he watched Katsuki roll the condom over himself. The first time he’d done it in ages.
The nerves were back again, starting in his fingers, though he managed the condom with no problem. But then he looked back at Izuku and that familiar feeling of expectation that had painted his whole life drenched him in a second, giving him pause. This wasn’t something he was practiced at. He knew what to do, obviously, and he’d been on the receiving end of it enough times to have a good idea of how to get it right. But he wasn’t used to doing things without practicing. Practicing until he couldn’t get it wrong, until the chances of harm were minimal.
Izuku’s body had totally rejected this the first and last time they’d tried. It had been way back at the beginning, when they’re level of comfort was nothing like it was now. When their knowledge of each other’s bodies had been novice and their communication had been ass. It was totally different. Back then, Izuku had been tied tight as a knot. Now, he was open with every meaning of the word.
Suddenly, Izuku reached for Katsuki’s hand, much the way he often did when their roles were reversed. Katsuki met him, both their knuckles pressing into the bed below. He gave a little squeeze and a nod of reassurance, and Katsuki nodded back. Alright, this was it.
Katsuki held himself in his hand and nudged his way toward Izuku’s hole. The resistance that he met right away as the head of his cock kissed the opening was nerve-wracking. But then he remembered how often this was his favorite part. Feeling Izuku, taking him in—it wasn’t always the most comfortable feeling, but it was often the most intimate. The way he was forced to go slow, to take his time and feel it out, even after this long together.
So Katsuki took his time pressing in, leaning down and resting his forehead against Izuku’s, the heat and the sweat sticking them together instantly. “Feel okay?” he asked as he was about halfway in.
“It’s good, Kacchan, really good,” Izuku responded, though his words came out stiff, like he was breathing through something. Katsuki pulled back to get a better look and was met with Izuku’s red-rimmed eyes, glittering and nearly spilling over at the corners.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, stilling his movements immediately. No harm, not towards Izuku.
“No, I’m just happy,” Izuku sniffled. He reached up with a grabby arm for the back of Katsuki’s neck and pulled him down, murmuring, “Kiss, Kacchan.”
Gratefully, Katsuki went with Izuku’s hold and kissed him languidly. Their lips slotted together, tasting each other as Katsuki sunk the rest of the way in, groaning into Izuku’s mouth.
God, this was what Izuku felt every time they had sex? The heat and the tightness and the duty? Suddenly, Katsuki was struck by the need to hold Izuku, take him apart piece by piece until he was shivering with pleasure. Sure, Katsuki always wanted to make Izuku feel good, but this was different. This was new.
Katsuki began rocking in and out, the muscles in his thighs taut as he tried to figure out the best way to do this. He wished that they had more time to get this right but, on the other hand, Katsuki had never been one to try and be the best slowly.
Exploring around with his fingers was not at all a direct analog for feeling with his dick, but Katsuki did his best to search for the places that made Izuku’s breath hitch, gasping against his mouth. It was easy when Izuku was so bad at hiding his responses, giving all those same little sounds he gave when he was on top, or when Katsuki’s mouth was wrapped around him. Maybe there wasn’t so much new to learn after all.
“More, Kacchan, more,” Izuku demanded, lifting his hips just slightly so that his scalding cock brushed against Katsuki’s stomach. “I told you I can take it.”
“You think you can take it until you suddenly can’t, dumbass,” Katsuki retorted, thinking not just of how Izuku was as a person, but what bottoming was like, whether you were new or not. Faster was not always better. “Just—fuck—trust me.”
“I do, I do,” Izuku babbled, insisted as his back arched, either really feeling it or just searching for the right spot inside of him. Katsuki couldn’t quite tell but decided to tip the scales in his favor.
Izuku keened into Katsuki’s mouth when Katsuki finally grasped his cock in his hand. Another familiar action that he could strategize with and build off of. He gave a few strokes, managed them at the same rhythm with which he was pumping into Izuku.
“God,” Izuku cried, squeezing Katsuki’s hand in his tighter. His meaty thighs came up and wrapped around Katsuki’s waist and part of his ribs. They were hard and strong, especially the muscles right around his groin, which were sharp and protruding, digging into Katsuki’s hips when they met, gripping them until he pulled back again. Katsuki thrust in and ground against Izuku, just to feel all that strength holding him closest, wanting him to give more.
“Fuck, you’re so good, Deku,” Katsuki breathed, kissing Izuku’s temple and tasting salt on the tip of his tongue. “Are you close?”
“Yes, Kacchan, I—yes.”
“Yeah? You like what I’m doing to you, Deku?”
“Always—fuck, yes, Kacchan.”
“Gonna—?”
“Yes, please, kiss me.”
Their kiss vibrated as Izuku groaned into it, finishing swiftly on Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki gasped at the feeling of Izuku suddenly clenching around him, experiencing his orgasm in an entirely different way. It was overwhelming.
Katsuki couldn’t hang on any longer. He didn’t even manage half a thrust before he was cumming hard into the condom, orgasming to the sound of Izuku’s alarm going off. All the soft, syrupy feelings he’d been enjoying suddenly crystalized and cracked, shattering to the audio of a beeping that could rouse the dead, much less two men who could barely sleep through the night as it was.
“Fuuuck,” Katsuki groaned. “Can’t even fucking bask, dammit.”
“C’mon, Kacchan,” Izuku said, patting Katsuki’s bicep. His voice was heavy, perhaps a little love drunk, but his eyes were still bright and alert as he pushed himself up to his forearms and reached to silence his phone. Izuku always had the ability to bounce back quickly, whether it was from certain defeat in battle, or overcoming the kind of refractory period adult men were supposed to have.
“God fucking dammit,” Katsuki grumbled, pulling out and schlicking off the spent condom. It harshed his endorphin high almost as much as the alarm had. “We’re gonna do that again sometime when there’s not a damn time limit.”
“So you wanna do it again?” Izuku asked, reaching over the bed and tossing Katsuki’s underwear at him before grabbing his own. As he got up, he groaned a little and then giggled. “Oof, feels funny.”
“ ‘S why I told you to take it easy, dumbass.”
“You’d think you’d be more complimentary to my ass after this, Kacchan.”
Katsuki looked at Izuku, a wash of that softness coming back again. He took a step towards Izuku and ran his fingers through his hair, giving the curls back a little bit of their usual fluff. They were sweaty at the roots, but they would pass by the time they arrived. Then he gave Izuku a soft kiss. Just two seconds of contact (it was all they had to spare) just to remind him…to remind him.
Izuku smiled when Katsuki pulled back, murmuring a little “Kacchan,” before heading to the closet. Even just the couple steps Izuku took seemed to bear a little waddle, but Katsuki was sure that Izuku would get his muscles back under him by the time they appeared in public. Or, at least, he’d fake the hell out of it. Last year he’d had three broken toes and Katsuki wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t heard from the radiologist himself.
Katsuki began restoring his uniform, pinching his shirt with only his fingertips, desperately wishing they could fit in a shower before they left, but, well, they’d made their bed. He glanced at Izuku, who was grabbing his own uniform out of his closet. “Do you?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you wanna do it again? Some other time.”
“I liked it,” Izuku said with a grin. “I still like it the other way, though.”
Katsuki flushed. He didn’t know why, perhaps because the blood in his body was still rerouting and was confused why he wasn’t still prone, snuggling with his boyfriend in bed. “Me too.”
There was no doubt: Katsuki wanted to master doing it this way. Much as he wanted the opportunity to take his time with Izuku, tease him out and let him feel the best of what he could make Katuski feel, he also wanted to memorize Izuku’s sweet spots, get to a point where he could get him off this way in twenty minutes again, no stress. Five minutes, even. He wanted everything.
Izuku’s uniform was already on, the stretchy one piece proving a lot more advantageous in this circumstance than Katsuki’s, even with all his accessories in the car. So Katsuki was only just clicking his belt when Izuku leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder, kissing him chastely on the mouth. “Thank you,” he said with a wide smile.
Katsuki smiled, shaking his head. “You’re welcome, dumbass.”
Then, urgently, Izuku grabbed his hand. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes.
If he didn’t love him so much, he’d kill him.
3.5: interlude
Having sex before the ceremony had been such a stupid decision, something Katsuki had whispered to Izuku no less than thirty times over the course of the night, including twice on stage (they weren’t miked—the risk was negligible at best).
Seeing the blush that rose on Izuku’s face, as though he hadn’t been the seductress in the whole affair, was immensely satisfying, though that wasn’t Katsuki’s main motivator. No, the main motivator was that it was the goddamn truth. Katsuki fucking hated all these dumbass ceremonies; he didn’t like networking, he didn’t like interviews, and he didn’t like people, dammit. He didn’t even like late evenings and now his body was whining that it had missed a nap with his boyfriend on his sweaty bed.
But dammit, Izuku had been so hot. Him wanting Katsuki even after all this time was hot and God, Katsuki could admit that he was a little bit whipped. And the fact that he’d wanted to open himself up to Katsuki in that way…well, now Katsuki understood why Izuku had cried the first time Katsuki had done that for him. It had felt like a privilege.
Now, however, he was sleepy, and grumpy, and bitter that he’d had the wise idea to drive because now Izuku was dozing in the passenger seat while Katsuki kept his eyes on the road. God, piss poor planning all day between the two of them. If anyone knew what idiots they were, the both of them would have their rankings bumped.
But no, only Izuku knew what an idiot Katsuki was. And while Katsuki loudly proclaimed to anyone who would listen what an idiot Izuku was, he’d like to think that there were certain sides to him that only Katsuki got to see as well.
When Katsuki pulled into the parking space, he put a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Deku. Wake up, dumbass.”
“I’m awake,” Izuku mumbled, despite his eyes still being closed. His hand swung up at the elbow and grasped Katsuki’s, wrapping his fingertips around the thumb. “Come in with me.”
“Deku, it’s late, I gotta get home.”
Izuku’s eyes blinked open, half lidded but still huge and expressive on his face. He rolled his shoulder in, as if to take Katsuki’s hand for his own, his grip only tightening. “Move in with me.”
The top layer of Katsuki’s sleepiness burnt away, and his surface nerves suddenly sharp and alert. “What?”
“I don’t like when you say that you’re going home and it means somewhere where I’m not,” Izuku said, his tired face making him look petulant, childlike. Like a boy pouting over his toy being taken away before dinnertime. “My home is with you.”
“Then you should move in with me, dumbass,” Katsuki retorted, adjusting his hips so that he was facing Izuku more fully. Already, Izuku was leaning one side against the seat, his curls rustled in the way they’d been trying to hide for the whole ceremony.
“No,” Izuku said firmly, his voice growing fuller and more alive each second. “No, because if I move in with you, I won’t change anything. I’ll just bring my clothes and it’ll still be your place. But if you move in with me, you’ll change everything to suit you, and then it’ll be like we’re actually here together.”
Katsuki blinked. “That’s stupid.”
“No, Kacchan, it’s not!” Izuku insisted, sitting up properly, allowing their joined hands to fall to the center console. “I want you to take my life and make it yours.”
If there was one thing Izuku had always been able to pull off, it was earnestness. It was in his pale knuckles as he clenched Katsuki’s hand. It was in his downturned mouth and downturned eyebrows and eyes that found every sparkle that the dim streetlights had to offer. And Katsuki was fool enough to think that when you were together with someone who was earnest like that, maybe it was even a little romantic.
He sighed. “I’ll come in.”
Izuku’s eyebrows bounced up. “You’ll move in?”
“No, I’ll come in, fucker.” He ran a hand over his face. God he was tired. “We’ll talk about the rest tomorrow when it’s not the fucking dead of night.”
Two hands were suddenly wrapped around his, and Izuku was bouncing up and down in the faux-leather seat. “Thank you, Kacchan, thank you!”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get inside before I decide to sleep in the backseat.” Katsuki unclipped his seatbelt and Izuku followed suit.
“I’d snuggle with you,” he offered.
“And you’d be dumb for doing it.”
He came around the side of the car and found Izuku’s hand again.
Tomorrow morning, he’d say yes. Katsuki might have been fucking exhausted, but he was one hundred percent certain that a little rest wouldn’t change his mind. Living with Izuku was inevitable. The only reason that they didn’t stay over more nights was so as not to accidentally start living together before talking about it. Izuku and Katsuki had done so many things accidentally without talking about them that they’d just about hit their quota and could well and truly be fucked if they did any more.
So, after a talk, he’d say yes. And after that, perhaps, they’d make love.
4
Izuku needed to get it together. Severely. Pronto. He was literally professionally trained in keeping cool under pressure, and yet he felt mere moments away from blowing a top.
If the world had a foremost expert on Bakugou Katsuki, Izuku liked to think it would be him. Aside from Katsuki’s parents, Izuku had time on his side. By now, in terms of time spent in each other’s company, he might even have the Bakugous beat. He was Katsuki’s confidant, lover, partner (in romance and in heroics), roommate, boyfriend, oldest friend. He’d earned the title, dammit. Hero Deku: Number One Hero, Number One Bakugou Katsuki Expert.
But there was still so much he didn’t know. He kept on learning foods that Katsuki didn’t like (bread and butter pickles; they weren’t as crunchy as dill) and habits that came from living together full time (vacuuming the couch?). It turned out he’d always be getting more notebooks to fill with new knowledge about Katsuki. Metaphorically, of course (Dynamight was the only one who filled actual pages of Izuku’s notebooks).
This, however, was something that Izuku couldn’t have predicted. Flipping through those metaphorical notebooks, there weren’t any signs pointing him towards this being the case. There simply wasn’t precedent.
Bakugou Katsuki was good with kids.
Babies, to be exact, or rather, baby. Izuku had seen Katsuki with kids before, but babies were new. Almost as new as Kirishima Akane was herself. Just a few months old and being rocked asleep against Katsuki’s chest. He had a cloth thrown over his shoulder like a pro, unlike Izuku, who was shirtless because his shirt was in the wash after having suffered a, well, predictable baby incident. Of the spit up variety.
Izuku found himself being lulled by Katsuki’s gentle bouncing as well, not to sleep, but into a daze of sorts. Backed into a daydream of a little domestic fantasy where Katsuki wasn’t his boyfriend, but his husband, where maybe instead of moving into Izuku’s apartment, he and Katsuki had bought a house together, where maybe, just maybe, they’d had a little baby just like little Akane who slept between them and needed them for everything she did.
“I think we can finally put her to bed,” Katsuki whispered, the rocking coming to a stop as the baby rested against his pecs. Izuku had fallen asleep there before too—it was a good spot.
She’d been fussy for a while, so the use of the word finally wasn’t any exaggeration on Katsuki’s part. Izuku didn’t know if it was because her parents were gone or if it was his and Katsuki’s inexperience or if this was just normal for Akane and they had no frame of reference. This was their first time babysitting her, after all, giving the parents a well-earned date night.
Katsuki put her down in the bassinet with a gentleness that Izuku rarely got to see, because the only person to usually receive that from Katsuki was him. It was fascinating to observe from a third-person perspective, and it turned over warmly in his stomach.
When Akane was laid down, Izuku couldn’t help but tiptoe over to her and see her smushy face all lax, her body all wrapped like a little burrito. He would check Katsuki’s swaddling work, but it appeared he’d done it as flawlessly as he did everything else.
“Goodnight, little baby,” Izuku whispered, waving at her before standing up.
The room was dim, drawn with blackout curtains just for a baby and parents who slept at any and all hours of the day that they could. But if Izuku hadn’t been able to see Katuski’s eyes on him anyway, he would have felt them. Katsuki'd had eyes only for the baby for the last twenty minutes of soothing and bouncing, so the heavy return of them to himself was palpable. His skin prickled.
After a moment of both men staring, Katsuki nodded his head towards the bedroom door, and both men crept out, treading lightly with their slippers. The next thing Izuku knew, Katsuki had him pressed against the living room wall and was kissing him straight into it.
“Kacch—”
“Walking around shirtless like that all day, what the fuck are you doing to me, Deku?”
“I—”
“And you’re so good with her, fuck, why do I like you being so fucking nice?”
“No, Kacchan, you—” Izuku gasped as Katsuki pinched his nipple hard, “—you’re the one who’s good with her. You look like a real parent—you’d be such a good dad.”
“God, fuck—okay. Bathroom. You go to the bathroom, I’m gonna find some lube.”
Izuku’s hands had been gripping at Katsuki’s sides, slowly riding his shirt up, but they suddenly loosened. “What? Here?”
“Hardly the worst place we’ve done it, nerd,” Katsuki replied, already heading for Eijirou and Mina’s bedroom. “When I get back I want your bottom to match your top.”
Katsuki was off and rustling through their friend’s belongings before Izuku could respond, but really, who was Izuku to say no? He grabbed the baby monitor that was on the living room table and brought it with him, setting it on the sink before closing the door and stripping down. He was already half hard nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for Katsuki to get back.
“Why’d you close the door, dumbass?” Katsuki asked, his voice carrying through the door before he’d opened it. “Worried she’ll walk outta bed and catch us?”
Katsuki’s shirt had been lost on the journey, presumably thrown on the floor someplace. His pants were still on, but unbuttoned in the front, his boxers tenting noticeably through the gap.
“Noise, Kacchan, I don’t wanna wake her,” Izuku whispered, eyeing the lube and condoms Katsuki held in each hand. Izuku tried not to take note of how much was used. He was already preparing to defile their friends’ bathroom; he did not need any insight into their sex life on top of that.
“Fine,” Katsuki said, placing his goods on the sink and nudging the door closed with his foot. Then he put his hands on the counter and arched his ass up. “Now do your worst.”
The rest of Izuku’s blood rushed to his cock—how could it not with Kacchan presented like that? He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s bare waist, kissing the side of his neck. They made eye contact in the medicine cabinet and Izuku saw Katsuki’s eyes close in a slow blink when Izuku ground his hard on into Katsuki’s clothed ass. His posture stayed strong, bending back into it, not crumbling to any of Izuku’s significant strength.
Tenderly, Izuku slipped his hands down the front of Katsuki’s loosened pants, beneath his boxers, and ran them flat down Katsuki’s thighs. The pants lowered an inch or two in the process, revealing the uppermost curve of Katsuki’s ass to Izuku’s hungry eyes. Heat radiated from Katsuki’s clothed cock towards Izuku’s hands, but Izuku didn’t touch it, not yet.
Neither of them had any idea how long they had before Akane would wake up, but it was still a good couple hours before their friends would be back. Izuku could still hear Eijirou’s voice on the phone to Katsuki, Thanks, bro, you’re saving us! Izuku couldn’t help but giggle into Katsuki’s shoulder. Gosh, they were being so bad, but he really, really couldn’t help it.
“What are you laughing about, loser?” Katsuki asked. His voice had been soft all day, like a bull trying to tiptoe through a china shop. More bits of Katsuki that Izuku wasn’t used to seeing outside of their home, outside of their most intimate moments. But here they were for him to watch anew.
“Just that Eijirou-kun and Mina-san are probably, hopefully too tired to kill us for this.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes in the mirror, grinding back against Izuku. “We’re trained in stealth, dumbass. It’ll be fucking fine so long as you actually get on with it.”
“Yes, Kacchan,” Izuku said before sucking on the crook of Katuski’s neck, moving his hands inwards so that he was just barely squeezing Katsuki’s inner thighs, brushing just around the base of his dick.
Katsuki groaned, bucking into Izuku’s hold, but Izuku didn’t do anything more just yet, keeping Katsuki’s hips in place while affixing most of his attention to Katsuki’s neck. In this position, there was little Katsuki could do to return what he got, bite back like he usually did. It was Izuku’s opportunity to lavish kisses and marks upon Katsuki, worship him piece by piece, love him while he could do nothing but fog up the bathroom mirror.
Izuku continued roaming Katsuki’s thighs, allowing his arms to catch on the bands of his jeans and boxers and slip them down ever lower, not in any real hurry. With his ass arched up the way it was, Katsuki’s thighs were drawn tight in the back. The strength of his hamstrings pushed against Izuku’s southward bound hands, strong and taut. As Izuku continued feeling up his boyfriend, it became more the tension of his arms that was keeping Katsuki’s pants up than the meat of Katsuki’s ass and thighs. So, in a swift movement, Izuku let them fall to Katsuki’s ankles and wrapped a hand around the base of Katsuki’s cock, earning a prolonged groan from the other man.
“Like that, Kacchan?”
“I’d like it more if it weren’t at a fucking snail’s pace, but sure, I like it.”
It wouldn’t be like Katsuki to admit that he liked being taken apart slowly, that he liked tenderness and affection, or even that he liked the attention that he’d sought his whole life (not this kind of attention, but Izuku had found the correlation to be a direct one).
“Sorry, I can’t help but want to touch Kacchan as much as I can,” Izuku cooed, stroking Katsuki too slowly to do more than tease and send a bit of heat to Katsuki’s face. “It’s never enough.”
“Fucking insatiable perv,” Katsuki huffed, almost looking like he had a point as Izuku stood there, one hand on Katsuki’s cock, the other reaching for the lube.
“Only for Kacchan,” he whispered, flipping open the lube cap with his thumb.
Izuku took a second to remember that this was not his house and not his lube, that this encounter would have to contain a bit more decorum than Izuku and Katsuki usually prioritized. He squeezed out a liberal amount of the smooth gel and spread it between his fingers before separating his hips from Katsuki’s and pressing one digit in.
“Fuck,” Katsuki hissed, leaning back into the stretch.
“Two?”
Izuku could already feel that Katsuki could take two. It had become easier to fool around since moving in together, despite their schedules not lessening any. If anything, with Mina and Eijirou taking off for parental leave, they had more on their plates. Perhaps that justified fucking against their bathroom counter.
“Yes,” Katsuki insisted, pressing back further, his torso leaning down further as he distanced himself from the sink.
Izuku smiled, glad that Katsuki was no longer looking in the mirror to see it. Katsuki might not admit to his neediness, but it was something that Izuku reveled in. Being needed by Katsuki would always make him feel important in a way totally separate from hero work. In a way just between them.
He added a second finger, spreading them out for a few moments before moving onto a third and then a fourth. The whole time, Izuku kept up teasing little motions on Katsuki’s cock. Slow strokes and squeezes, reminding him of what Izuku could do, but wouldn’t. Not until the time was right. It left Katsuki groaning and huffing, as close to a whimpering mess as Izuku could usually get him. It was rare that Katsuki would fully forget himself in sex and let go; rather, every noise of pleasure came out as a concession. A prize that Izuku won until they got to the rare moments that Katsuki gave freely, openly, wildly.
“Deku, just…”
“Just what, Kacchan?”
“Just—fuck—you know.”
“I don’t know, Kacchan, what do you want?”
Katsuki growled. “If you don’t know, then I should probably pull my pants up and not tell you,” he bit back, turning his head sharply to look Izuku in his teasing eyes.
“You’re probably right, Kacchan,” Izuku said, smiling. He kissed Katsuki’s cheek. “How about I fuck you?”
“What I’ve been saying…” Katuski grumbled as Izuku removed his fingers.
Izuku grabbed a condom and rolled it on, wasting no time before he was positioning himself at Katsuki’s entrance. He was buzzing, perhaps feeling a bit pent up from all his teasing as well, desperate to finally feel Katsuki around him again. Wow, he couldn’t believe he’d put it off as long as he had.
He pushed in, the feeling always a dual one of pleasure and relief. Even though the tension was still only building, his orgasm still (relatively) far off, it was a burden off his chest to finally be inside Katsuki, absorbing the heat, feeling the squeeze that was just tight enough, work resulted from his own hand. It was sexy to watch Katsuki open himself up, but Izuku preferred to do it himself, always. Every opportunity to touch Katsuki was one he’d take again and again.
“God, Deku, yes, fuck, how do you always feel so good?”
Izuku whined, burying his forehead against Katsuki’s neck. “Evil, Kacchan, evil.”
Katsuki’s chest rumbled, Izuku could feel it against the arm he’d wrapped around Katsuki’s chest, one bouncing laugh making his ribs expand and contract. “Not my fault your dick’s so fucking good.”
But it was his fault that he was saying so, pressing against Izuku’s weakness. Being complimented on the field was a daily thing, something Izuku took pride in, but was also important because he needed to know what he was doing well to be a good hero. He also needed to have a positive public image to continue being able to serve in the capacity that he did.
Compliments in bed, however, annihilated him. Because they were from Katsuki, someone by whom praise was not given easily. And Izuku could. Not. Take it.
“Kacchan, please,” Izuku whined, his voice sounding like he was moments from crying, even though his eyes weren’t there (yet). The compliments left him feeling overstimulated, even so early on. Overwhelmed, but in a way he didn’t dare walk away from.
“Keep going,” Katsuki grit out, and that Izuku could deal with. Direct instruction, fine, done. He would do it happily for Katsuki.
He did more than that, actually, setting a slightly faster pace. It was so easy to take control from this position. Izuku missed the kissing, and his easy access to Katsuki’s face, but he couldn’t begrudge the way that their bodies melded perfectly like this. Izuku’s whole front was curved along the line of Kastuki’s spine, held close by the arm wrapped diagonally along his front. Then there was the hand Izuku had moved from Katsuki’s cock to his hip, his grip firm and confident.
No, nothing was wrong with this position. It was nice, as a treat, especially so with Katsuki’s face twisted in the mirror, bottom lip bitten, eyes screwed shut. But Izuku would definitely make sure next time was face to face. Otherwise, he’d be forced to miss Kacchan while he was right in front of him, and that would be hard to explain.
“I’m gonna finish,” Katuski hissed. “God, it’s too much.”
“You can finish whenever you want, Kacchan,” Izuku whispered, his mouth close to Katsuki’s ear from where it was buried in his neck. “Please, I want you to.”
Katsuki groaned and took one hand off the sink, sending both boys forward before Izuku steadied them again. Then he was fisting himself, racing towards a finish that Izuku wasn’t far behind.
“Wanna see you, Kacchan,” Izuku chanted, locking his eyes on the mirror as he kept up his thrusting. “It’s everything I want.”
“Fuck, Deku,” Katsuki said, and Izuku could feel him begin to really clench around him. Not in orgasm, not yet, but so close. Izuku could probably count off the seconds that remained if he wanted, but he stayed locked in the moment instead.
Katsuki’s eyes opened, but they were wrecked. When he blinked, tears formed at the corners, just begging to fall but still managing to hold on. Izuku held Katsuki even tighter, not because it created better leverage, but just because he wanted to.
The feeling started at Izuku’s elbow, with Katsuki’s abdomen suddenly squeezing tight, folding further into his hold. Then it was that incredible clenching around his cock, searing hot even through the condom. Izuku couldn’t last through it, falling into a moan over top of Katsuki’s gasp, both of their voices ringing against the bathroom tile.
“Good fucking God,” Katsuki groaned, his second hand falling heavily on the sink’s rim. “It’s worth cumming in the sink for a nut like that, shit.”
Izuku giggled, continuing to nuzzle into Katsuki’s neck. He smelled like sweat and baby powder; it made the whole thing feel thrillingly domestic, despite the fact that they were defiling their friends’ bathroom. Respectfully.
To that end, Izuku pulled out before he could make a mess, and discarded the condom in the trash. He even went the extra mile and covered it up with some toilet tissue while Katsuki busied himself with soaping up the sink. After he was through with that and Izuku had cleaned himself, Katsuki had the bottle of lube under the faucet with soap and water. Katsuki caught his eye and said, “Leave no trace, dumbass.”
“Thought that was for, like, hiking,” Izuku said through a grin.
“Shut the hell up and put your clothes back on.”
“Alright, lover,” Izuku said, giving Katsuki a quick kiss on the cheek before reaching down to restore his pants and underwear. Maybe the laundry was done running too.
Already, Izuku could see the beginnings of the marks that were to bloom on the back of Katsuki’s neck, feeling ever grateful for Katsuki’s winter costume. It would hide those bruises in public, but at home, they’d rest above the crew-neck tees and tanks that Katsuki lounged in.
“You know I can see you, right?” Katsuki spoke into the mirror, eyeing Izuku in the reflection.
“Can’t help it,” Izuku said, coming back behind Katsuki just like how they’d started off, except now he was the one wearing pants. He wrapped his arms around Katsuki’s middle and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I just really, really, really like you.”
“Psh,” Katsuki scoffed, reaching for a hand towel. “Not what you usually say. What, didn’t have a good enough time?”
“Mm, I always have the best time with Kacchan. I love you.”
“Damn straight,” Katsuki said, taking one of Izuku’s hands in his. He threaded their fingers together and then kissed the back of it softly. “Love you too. Now wash these monstrosities.”
“Yes, sir.”
5
“Do you regret boving in wid be now?”
Katsuki looked down at Izuku being swallowed by his hideous gray plaid couch. His buff body was lost, neck and head aside, in the corner against the armrest, the rest of him covered by the thick, knit blanket Katsuki had bought to cover it up. It wasn’t saving the couch, but it was doing its darndest to cover up the disaster that was Midoriya Izuku.
“No, I don’t regret moving in with you,” Katsuki answered. “I do kinda regret sharing a ventilation system with you, though.”
Izuku pouted for only a moment before it broke apart into a cough that was loud and phlegmy. Not particularly wet or rattling—Izuku wasn’t dying. It was just a garden variety cold with a low fever. If Katsuki was to believe Izuku, that was, instead of assuming that he was playing things down as he was known to do.
But no, Katsuki trusted Izuku, if only for the fact that Izuku loved to work and taking a cold seriously and getting the proper rest would be the quickest way to get back in the action. He was predictable in that way.
“Sorry about our date.”
Izuku was looking up at Katsuki with wide and perpetually watery eyes. Katsuki didn’t know if the cold had rendered them itchy or if he was hot with fever or if he was just on the edge of tears like he always was.
“Don’t worry about that, idiot,” Katsuki said, taking off his jacket and sitting on the couch.
He’d brought a nice change of clothes to work, nothing too fancy, just a button down shirt, leather jacket, and some jeans. All with the hope of making it out of work soon enough to meet Izuku for dinner in the thin period of time they could see each other since their shift schedule had been changed.
And he had made it out in time. Only dinner was now going to be miso soup instead of wherever the hell they would have gone. Katsuki already had it warming on the stove.
“Hey,” Katsuki said, grabbing Izuku’s face by the chin and turning it towards him. “Love you. Okay?”
Izuku’s mouth fell into a narrow little frown, and he looked just that much closer to crying. “Even when I’m gross?”
“You’ve always been gross.”
Izuku’s face softened. “You know, from anyone else that would be dickish, but somehow it’s really sweet from you.”
Katsuki scoffed. “You’re just in love with me.”
“A little.”
They both found themselves leaning in towards each other, that natural gravity that they’d always had still exerting its force over them. Suddenly, Izuku recoiled, putting a hand over his nose and mouth.
“No, I’m sick!” he cried, the rasp in his voice coming out strongly. “Stay back!”
“Oh my God, Deku,” Katuski laughed as he leaned back. “It’s not like you have some kind of contagious quirk, fuck. We’ve been through worse.”
“I know, God, it’s stupid,” Izuku said, collapsing back into his dent in the couch. “I had plans too.”
“Another hot date?”
“Shut up.” Izuku shoved Katsuki’s shoulder, making Katsuki cackle. “With you, you moron.”
“And here I thought I was gonna have to beat some punk up,” Katsuki said, grinning. “What were these plans?”
Izuku sunk further into the couch. “Well, they weren’t plans-plans, just, I don’t know.”
“Spit it out, Deku.”
“We were gonna have sex!” Izuku exclaimed, turning the shade of a full-color peach: all red but for a few splotchy, pale patches. Katsuki suspected it was not because of the fever.
A little thrill shot through Katsuki’s body at the thought. Yeah, of course that had been the plan. Obviously. Katsuki hadn’t been able to prep at work, per se, but he had taken care to eat smart and try and time his day out accordingly. Somehow, it almost always seemed like it had been too long since they’d been together, even after moving into the same bedroom. And this would have been a nice little spot of relief.
Although…
“Let’s do it anyway.” He began unbuttoning his dark blue shirt.
“Wh-What?” Izuku’s face scrunched in such a way that Katsuki would have laughed on any other occasion, but he was on a mission of seduction, dammit.
“No kissing,” Katsuki said first, halfway down his shirt with the buttons. “And a condom, obviously, so it’s practically like we wouldn’t be touching.”
“Practically…?” Izuku’s eyes were wide, totally lost. Then he blinked and shook his head. “What? It’s totally not!”
Katsuki slipped the shirt off, hating how the tightness of the cuffed sleeves was such a greater hassle than the athleisure tanks and tees he usually wore. He tossed it over the back of the couch and out of sight. Then he sat back, crossed his arms, and looked at Izuku. “Look, do you wanna do it or not?”
Izuku gaped at him for a moment, eyes searching his face and then falling to his chest and arms before returning up again. Then, a pointed finger shot out in accusation. “You’re using your hotness against me!”
So what if he was? Katsuki was well aware of how his arms naturally flexed in this position, how they framed his pecs in a way that would make Izuku think about kissing or biting them—whatever his pervy brain could cook up.
“Is it working?”
Izuku stared at him for a second, allowing himself another indulgent look at Katsuki’s arms and torso. Then he blurted out, “Damn it, yes,” and in one motion threw his blanket to the floor and shoved Katsuki flat on the couch. Katsuki grinned with all his teeth.
“Fuck yeah.”
Izuku dove right in with Katsuki’s chest, laving his tongue over a nipple and sucking it in his mouth. Katsuki’s legs were spread on either side of Izuku’s waist, both bent at the knee, and Izuku did nothing to avoid grinding his abs against Katsuki’s hardening cock. His skin was so hot, even through Katsuki’s dress pants that already Katsuki was wondering what he’d just gotten himself into. And that spoke nothing to the scorching heat of Izuku’s mouth.
Once one side of Katsuki’s chest was properly treated, Izuku switched to the other, starting off with a bite that had Katsuki’s hand flying up to his mouth. It was too early in the game to be falling apart already, not while Izuku was still fully dressed. Then, suddenly, Izuku popped up and kissed the back of Katsuki’s hand.
“Mm, it’s gonna be so hard not to kiss, Kacchan.”
Katsuki agreed. Every part of sex with Izuku was good, at least it was by now. But kissing was special. A reminder that no matter how rowdy they got, everything they did was still out of love. That their love was first.
“Gonna have to just keep that mouth busy with other things then, nerd,” Katsuki said, bopping Izuku on the head and shoving him back down.
Izuku hummed against Katsuki’s skin, kissing his way back down to the bitten nipple. There were no teeth marks, but the skin around both pecs was already turning red. Izuku sucked a spot on his sternum that would be sure to bruise tomorrow.
He was thumbing Katsuki’s pants off, unbuttoning the top, lowering the zipper and pulling them down Katsuki’s legs until he had to lean back to throw them and his boxers the same way Katsuki had his shirt.
Without taking his mouth off of Katsuki’s skin, Izuku reached towards the drawers in the coffee table and began feeling around for the one with the lube in it. Despite the fact that Izuku couldn’t see him, Katsuki rolled his eyes, batting away Izuku’s hand as he pulled at the right handle and grabbed the lube himself.
“Mm,” Izuku hummed by means of thanks as he kissed down Katsuki’s body and popped open the mostly full bottle of lube.
Since moving in together, Izuku and Katsuki had stocked a few bottles of the silicone-based stuff all over the apartment. Living room, kitchen, bathroom and, of course, the bedroom. One for each bedside table. And it wasn’t even out of any out of control horniness (well, a little), but more out of laziness. Really. Who wanted to trek all the way to the bedroom when they were already hot and heavy in the…anywhere else?
Okay, so maybe the jury was out on whether it was more horniness or laziness, but either way, the idea of having Izuku on the couch was too delicious to resist. Suddenly, Katsuki found himself shoving Izuku by the chest and swinging them both sideways so that Katsuki was seated across Izuku’s clothed thighs.
“Shirt off, fucker.”
Izuku chuckled, though the sound came out short and raspy. He pulled off his sweaty t-shirt in one swift move and then sat back against the couch, letting Katsuki wrap his arms around Izuku’s bare shoulders.
Katsuki’s quads were flexed up to the hip as he sat up, hovering a bit above Izuku’s waist, providing easy access. His nose brushed against Izuku’s hair, and he breathed in. So sweaty already, but such a familiar smell. It was the scent of his pillow, a hug after a day of work that hadn’t borne too much destruction, or a day at the gym. They might not have been able to kiss, but this was still good. It was grounding, it was intimate.
Izuku began probing Katsuki with his knobby fingers, just playing around outside for a moment, teasing Katsuki’s hole as they breathed into one another. As Katsuki was breathing into Izuku’s hair, Izuku’s breath was hot and humid against Katsuki’s collarbone. The heat of fever maybe, Katsuki didn’t know, but it made his spine shiver in contrast, unable to wait for the rest of his body to reach that temperature.
One finger pushed in and Katsuki couldn’t help but lead the way, riding it, leaning down to whisper in Izuku’s ear, tell him to wait a second. Then, figuring it was relatively safe as far as germs went, he nibbled on the shell of Izuku’s ear while grinding down on his hand.
“God, you’re so sexy,” Izuku breathed, almost sounding exasperated by it. Like Katsuki’s sexiness was exhausting for Izuku to take in. Unlike usual, when he complained that he couldn’t get enough.
“You are,” Katsuki paid back, working his fingers up Izuku’s hair, resting his elbows atop Izuku’s shoulders. His freckles made it all the way up his forehead, getting lost in his hairline, and Katsuki wondered if Izuku had little secret freckles beneath all those curls. He felt like he should know, like there shouldn’t be a single part of Izuku’s body that was a mystery to him.
“Fuck, Kacchan,” Izuku groaned, the vowels coming out long and drawled. The congestion had Izuku’s consonants sounding all closed and stuffy, but his vowels still rang clear. They had a little less variety in pitch than usual, and a lot more gravel, but Katsuki couldn’t help but like the throatiness. It made his lover sound desperate, debauched. Katsuki liked him like that.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Katsuki continued, playing with Izuku’s hair, giving it the attention he’d give his lips, or maybe a tongue across his throat if he could. “Your thighs are so thick I can barely wrap my knees around them.”
“Don’t lie, Kacchan,” Izuku whined, tilting his head into Katsuki’s hands. “You’re so flexible, anything you try we can always do. Your body is so perfect, so, so perfect, Kacchan.”
Izuku accentuated his point, running his free hand from Katsuki’s ass (where he’d been squeezing, maybe for Katsuki’s balance, maybe just to cop a feel) up his back and around one broad shoulder. All the while, his hand was firm, pushing them closer together chest to chest, digging deep enough into Kastuki’s muscles that they ached and yearned for more.
“Shut up,” Katsuki groaned, grinding down until his ass tapped Izuku’s thighs, then coming back up. Somewhere along the way, Izuku had gotten up to four fingers. “God, just shut up.”
“I can’t,” Izuku insisted, working his fingers in and out at a good pace. “You bring it out in me. You’re so amazing I can’t possibly keep to myself. I’m only human, Kacchan.”
It was like being next to a bonfire on an early spring night: the draw to the fire is so strong, the warmth is so delicious, necessary, life-giving. But some innate part of you is sure that the fire will kill you if you get too close. Izuku’s words were like tongues of fire on a beach—the center of his attention yet too hot to touch. Dancing in his eyes but blinding to look at.
“You...fuck, I love—ngh!”
Izuku’s grin in Katsuki’s shoulder was moist from all the kissing he’d been lavashing upon Katsuki’s skin as he suddenly pressed against and began stroking Katsuki’s prostate. Fucking cheater.
“Trying to get a headstart, asshole?” Katsuki grit out, his thighs suddenly tensing from being kept at a working angle for so long.
“Maybe,” Izuku grinned, looking up at Katsuki. “I’m not exactly at top physical condition.”
It was true, but anyone but Katsuki would hardly know it. There was evidence in Izuku’s red nose, but his eyes were about as watery as usual. No, perhaps they were more pink-rimmed than Katsuki usually found them. For as easy as Izuku cried, he didn’t necessarily cry all that often, not as much as his friends gave him guff for.
Even though Katsuki could enumerate all the spots of illness on Izuku, Izuku still looked damn good to him. Sweaty and hard underneath him, chest shiny and splatter painted with freckles.
God, Katsuki wanted to kiss him. Instead, he sat down on Izuku’s thighs again, his own quads and hamstrings buzzing with the effort, and began tugging at his pants. Tapered sweatpants that had the cuffs shoved halfway up Izuku’s incredible calves. Calves that jutted out like a goddamn horse’s did, lined with veins and thin, black hair. Katsuki bothered getting all the way off Izuku and the couch just to pull them all the way down and gawk at his boyfriend’s legs.
Then, a condom was in hand and Katsuki was back in Izuku’s lap, body already cooling from the loss of moments apart. But now that they were wholly skin on skin (except for the plentiful skin-on-couch action), the warmth was coming back to Katsuki at every spot of connection. Their thighs, their hands, their cocks, just brushing against each other before Katsuki rolled the condom on.
Izuku had worked him open well enough that sliding down on his cock was no problem. Katsuki found himself fully seated, ass full in just one solid thrust, and he had to press his hands flat against Izuku’s chest to keep away. He turned his head to the side, rolling his chin toward one shoulder as he began to thrust, happy to take on this amount of effort for his sick boyfriend.
“Kacchan,” Izuku groaned, his head falling back against the sofa. Good, that was less temptation. “You’re so good to me.”
“Best boyfriend ever, right?” Katsuki couldn’t resist.
From this angle, Izuku was all smile unless Katsuki rose all the way up, nearly off his cock entirely, which he did once before slamming back down again and bouncing in a series of shallow thrusts. His thighs were going to be broken tomorrow.
“Best boyfriend ever.”
Izuku seemed to forget that it had been Katsuki’s desire to go ahead with this part of their evening plans, but Katsuki was happy to let that go as he focused on the bigger task of riding them both to completion. That prostate play really had been an unfair advantage on Izuku’s part, and Katsuki worried that he might already be halfway to his peak. God, he should have teased Izuku a little while he’d had the chance, made the other boy whimper and moan for him. Being sick as he was, Katsuki bet he could have gotten Izuku to crumble in minutes.
So Katsuki did what he could in the moment, which was lean into Izuku’s neck and give to it what he couldn’t give to his mouth. Izuku had so many sensitive spots, but his neck was Katsuki’s favorite. So long and delicate atop all of that hard-earned muscle. So many freckles to bite and lick and taste. Izuku groaned right into his ear, his breath coming out like steam.
“I’m not even—hng—not even gonna try and control myself, Kacchan,” Izuku said, music to Katsuki’s ears.
“Who ever asked you to, dumbass?”
“Ju-Just wanna be good for you, Kacchan,” Izuku whined, his voice especially pathetic in this state. Katsuki didn’t mind it.
“You’re always good, Deku, so fucking good.”
Izuku gasped, and Katsuki had to pull back to see it. Izuku’s eyes were all clarity, like pools of green Caribbean seawater. Katsuki ground down and clenched, watching how Izuku’s eyes screwed shut in response. He kept squeezing around Izuku, another grand show of muscle control, and the next thing he knew, Izuku was moaning, his shoulders collapsing as he came. His core shuddered through it, rolling against Katsuki’s as he managed a few last thrusts upward, but then he was gone, energy sapped.
“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku said quietly, but Katsuki would have none of that.
“For fucking what? That’s what I wanted.”
Izuku blinked his eyes up at Katsuki, as if looking for assurance, and Katsuki did everything in his power to give that to him. Sure eyes, furrowed brow, slightly parted mouth as he continued to breathe heavily. Izuku straightened up again, his second wind coming fast. A hand wrapped around Katsuki’s cock and began pumping readily, using Katsuki’s precome as lubricant. Izuku was still hard enough that Katsuki could grind and bounce a little, and he couldn’t help but groan, finding Izuku’s freshly determined face sexy.
He was so close—had been the whole time, really. But there was one thing that was sure to push him over the edge. And he shouldn’t need it, really, not with a hand on his cock and a cock up his ass. Shouldn’t need it, but he wanted it, and Katsuki got what he wanted dammit, and this was no exception. He wouldn’t let it be.
“Kiss me,” Katsuki breathed, his back curling as he leaned in towards Izuku’s face.
“What?” Izuku reeled back in alarm. “No, Kacchan, you’ll get sick!”
“I don’t care,” Katsuki said. “It’s probably too late already. You’re in me, in the air I breathe, in my bed at night. If you’re sick, I’m sick, just kiss me.”
Katsuki leaned closer again, and Izuku didn’t move, his lips slightly parted as if in preparation. Their breaths were already intertwined and, with every meaning of the words, it was too late for him where Izuku was concerned. So he kept leaning in, checking in with Izuku’s eyes a couple times before they were too close to see, and then they kissed.
With it came such relief. Katsuki had never known a kiss to feel so missing before, but it was wrong to make love to Izuku without it. So he kissed, and kissed, and then he came, his jaw falling slack against Izuku’s as he spilled between them. Izuku groaned as well, his cock giving a valiant twitch before they both collapsed into the couch, sticky and satiated.
They would have stayed like that longer, comforted by the feeling of their chests rising and falling into each other, like the rush of tide against the sand that met it. But Izuku had to extract himself and Katsuki needed to clean them both up. He stumbled to the kitchen for a rag, throwing out the used condom along the way, and then an “Oh, shit,” escaped his mouth as he scrambled for the stove.
Well. The miso soup had warmed.
The bottom of the pot had scorched in the outline of rectangles of seaweed, and little bits of tofu now clung to the bottom, drying out in a layer of slimy concentrate. Katsuki turned off the stove immediately and then just stared at it in betrayal. Stupid, fucking soup.
He’d order some for delivery. And then he’d buy more packets in preparation for two days from now when he, assuredly, would be in the same sorry shape Izuku was on the couch right now. So fucking stupid.
It was worth it, though, Katsuki thought as he poured some white vinegar into the pot, the scorched smell releasing further into the room along with the sour haze of vinegar. Being with Izuku was always worth it.
He just hoped they’d both have the will to resist when his turn to be sick came.
1
The hour was late, the still of the night late. The late hour after dusk when poets wrote about ghosts and wishing stars and unrequited love. The kind of late on a weeknight that had Izuku wincing at every beep the elevator gave, hoping that his odd hours weren’t waking the neighbors.
It had been a long shift. Nothing too exciting to grab Izuku’s attention and carry him through the long afternoon into night. Rather, there’d only been a few little incidents to leave him tired and sore on the journey home. He’d managed to jump it, hopping from building to building, but only because it would get him home quicker than public transit. And because he, sometimes to his own detriment, had an unparalleled ability to power through. When the end result was worth it, that was.
And it was. He and Katsuki had been suffering opposite schedules for weeks; sometimes the only time they got together was in each other’s arms in the dead of night, trading every little bit of body heat they had like it was conversation, like it was errands and meals shared.
Izuku turned the key in the latch slowly, quiet as he could. There were, to Izuku’s chagrin, many downsides of dating a hero. The injuries, the schedules, of course, but his boyfriend’s heightened senses were a beast all their own. And Izuku’s own were no better. Any rogue sound would send either man flying from bed, ready to annihilate any intruder or vengeful villain.
Of course, neither event had happened, yet, but that didn’t mean that both men hadn’t suffered many sleepless nights anyway.
Izuku took off his shoes carefully. These sneakers were his favorite, but they were bulky, not exactly lending themselves well to stealth. He only allowed one step inside before they had to come off, to be placed on the shelf with care.
His shirt was next, coming off as he walked down the hallway. He folded it as the living room came into view. Katsuki had left the hallway light on for Izuku, even though the light bled under their bedroom door. Izuku turned off the light and managed with the guide of the city’s light pollution coming through their windows. It would be enough as his eyes adjusted.
The shirt went on the back of the couch, on top of the blanket that Katsuki had bought in exchange for letting Izuku keep his supposedly ugly sectional. Maybe it was ugly, but both men had enjoyed fucking on and against it enough, if Izuku said so himself.
Izuku moved to take off his pants, folding them on top of the shirt as well. Katsuki would forgive the clothes not making it into the laundry hamper in exchange for not being woken up by the shuffling he’d have to endure if Izuku undressed in their room. So, after quickly brushing his teeth and washing his face, Izuku tiptoed into the bedroom and found Katsuki turned in toward Izuku’s side of the bed, nose tucked into Izuku’s pillow. Izuku bit his lips, both of them, perhaps too hard as he tried not to squeal.
He restrained himself and, with as much subtlety as he could manage, crawled onto his side of the bed, unable to stop the grin that arose when he found himself facing his love.
“Ngh…Deku,” Katsuki mumbled into the pillow.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Izuku whispered, putting a hand in Katsuki’s hair and caressing it.
Katsuki stretched, tangling his limbs with Izuku’s. He was warm all over, heated from hours beneath the covers, and Izuku struggled not to bury his cold toes beneath Katsuki’s legs, dig his nose, frozen from leaping across rooftops, into his cheek. “Dun tell me what t’ do, Deku.”
“You have to get up in a few hours, Kacchan.”
“Day off.”
That gave Izuku pause. Had they really been out of sync so long that Izuku had overlooked Katsuki’s day off? He could really wake up next to Katsuki instead of alone, tangled in pulled up blankets to make up for the missing body heat? Maybe sharing a lazy morning together with coffee and breakfast? Izuku’s toes wriggled at the idea.
Izuku’s space was being encroached upon, Katsuki’s breath suddenly on his cheek, his warmth filling every cold gap in Izuku’s body. His eyes had finally opened and Izuku’s crossed trying to keep them in view. There were so many places they were almost touching. Their foreheads, their noses, their chests. They probably could have fit in a twin-sized bed like this.
“Kacchan?” Izuku whispered as Katsuki threw a leg over Izuku’s hip, an arm across his shoulders. Caging him in with every limb available.
“Deku…” Katsuki murmured, touching their noses tip to tip, then slotting them to the side. If Izuku puckered his lips, they would touch Kacchan’s. “Why do I have to miss you so much?”
“I’m right here,” Izuku whispered, drawing closer where he could. His hips, his arms, his legs.
Katsuki closed that final gap and pressed his lips against Izuku’s. Between the two of them, their tongues tasted like mint, sharp and clean. “I like you best when you’re here,” Katsuki said between kisses. “I hate you when you’re not here.”
Izuku giggled, but it came out more like a hum as his lips closed around Katsuki’s. “So fickle, Kacchan.”
“So stupid, Deku.”
“Kiss me stupid, Kacchan.”
Katsuki obliged, grinding his hips into Izuku’s as he did so. Izuku hoped it would work, because he didn’t want to think right now, because if he did, he’d think about how much he missed Katsuki too. It didn’t always cross his mind while he was on the job, but in the locker room where only quiet voices echoed, or on the way home when all he could think about was returning to his Kacchan again. He’d think about how they were still “rookies” despite having saved the world multiple times over, with minimal control over their schedules or lives. How they were paying their dues and one day, they’d be able to pick. They’d never go weeks without waking up beside each other. Not so far as they could help it.
“Shh, Izuku.” Katsuki pulled back, eyes squared as they flicked between both of Izuku’s. A hand was in his hair, stroking it groundingly. “Be here.”
Izuku blinked out of it, seeing only Katsuki. The whole room was dark, but Katsuki’s moonlit hair and all seeing eyes were especially bright. “I’m here, Kacchan, I’m here.”
And he went back in, kissing Katsuki more forcefully now. He could have knocked Katsuki back to his side of the bed but, even sleepy, Katsuki couldn’t be toppled that easily. Katsuki met him push for push, gripping Izuku’s hair more tightly by the moment, wrapping his leg tighter around Izuku’s back so that he really couldn’t get away.
“I want you, Kacchan,” Izuku breathed. The exhaustion he’d felt earlier had melted away. Something about Katsuki always ignited embers within Izuku. They could never fizzle out or quiet down in Katsuki’s presence. It was always more, more, more.
“Then have me,” came the reply. Then, quieter: “You can always have me.”
Little could usually come between Katsuki and his sleep, but it seemed that tonight Katsuki needed it as much as Izuku did. There was a desperation between them that time apart had only stoked. Once they were together, the flames erupted.
They were rising rapidly, so Izuku wasted little time in reaching for the band of Katsuki’s boxers. It was difficult to make quick work of them, with both their legs tangled together as they were, and both men so unwilling to separate. But, eventually, Katsuki went willingly, taking his leg back from over Izuku’s hip just long enough for his boxers and then Izuku’s to be strewn to the floor. It wasn’t lost on Izuku that that would mean that clothes were once again scattered on his side while Katsuki’s was pristine. Daily habits following them into bed. The little things that made their lives together.
“Can’t wait, Deku,” Katsuki panted.
Izuku got the hint and reached for the familiar box and bottle out of the bedside table. Katsuki never stopped leaning into him, pushing his face into Izuku’s neck, his chest, his shoulder, painting each one with kisses and nibbles. He nearly could have pushed Izuku off the edge of the bed just with the insistence of his kissing.
The bottle snapped open and Izuku dolloped lubricant on three fingers, using the other hand to hold the blankets up as he reached down between Katsuki’s legs.
“Just work the lube in—don’t worry about stretching,” Katsuki said, widening his legs, making himself easily available.
“Did you stretch earlier?” Izuku asked, brows furrowed. It didn’t feel like it, as he pressed two fingers in. Katsuki was tight with the evidence of weeks spent out of each other’s arms. Izuku began stretching him automatically, his fingers knowing the strokes by rote.
“No, but it’ll be fine, just—please.”
Katsuki put a hand to Izuku’s shoulder and pushed, truly almost knocking Izuku off the bed this time. With the reflexes of a hero, Katsuki pulled him back as Izuku’s legs shot diagonally across the bed in an effort to rebalance himself. As both of their heads lolled over the edge of the bed, they began to giggle. Their rumbling chests reverberated against each other and their foreheads pressed together. They breathed each other’s air and expelled it as laughter.
“Alright, fucker, get back here,” Katsuki huffed as he manhandled Izuku back onto the bed whilst Izuku continued to laugh, covering his face with his non-lube-slick hand.
“We can do it on the floor if you want, Kacch—”
“Play your cards carefully, Deku, wise guys don’t get laid.”
“Okay,” Izuku tried his best to cover a laugh; it came out as a snort, “so—”
“Just gimme the fucking lube.”
Izuku giggled as he went ahead and handed Katsuki the lube. His laughter deflated into a groan when, a moment later, Katsuki’s hand was firmly on his cock, stroking it slickly up and down. When Katsuki began to climb on top of him again, though, multiple alarm bells began to go off. He really hadn’t stretched Katsuki hardly at all, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. Also:
“Kacchan, condom.”
“No,” Katsuki said simply, lining Izuku’s cock up with his hole, slick slipping against slick.
“Wh-What?”
Katsuki had a hard rule about condoms. Izuku had never bottomed without one—Katsuki’s demand—so he didn’t know, but Katsuki said that the cleanup wasn’t worth it. That if the cleanup had a chance of lasting longer than the actual sex, he was out. Condoms forever.
“Just once,” Katsuki whispered, as though Izuku was the one who needed convincing.
Izuku put a hand on his cheek. “Whatever you want, Kacchan.”
Katsuki kissed him softly, their lips only breaking apart when Katsuki began to lower himself onto Izuku. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, as it read on both of their faces. Katsuki’s eyebrows were drawn, teeth clenched as he hissed. Izuku felt as though his heart was stopping—chest suddenly too wide or too small—with how tight and hot it was. But he trusted Katsuki to know what he was doing. And Katsuki was sticking with it, not popping off and saying “Nope” as he had been unafraid to do in the past. So Izuku just let his hand run down Katsuki’s broad bicep, stroking the muscle, feel how the heat that had covered his sleeping body was escaping into the room, into Izuku as well.
When Katsuki was finally seated atop Izuku’s hips, the both of them went still. No movement but for their ribs expanding into one another with each breath. For all the contact that they now shared, though, Katsuki’s eyes were still what struck Izuku the most. They were the thing he didn’t dare pull away from—why would he?
“Are you okay?” he finally asked quietly. It harkened back to their first time full of uncertainty and nervousness, unsure if what he was doing was okay. Although, Izuku wasn’t nervous now, even if his heart was beating in the same way. It had been so long since Izuku had felt Katsuki like this, flesh against flesh, that it might as well have been the first time.
Katsuki was quiet for a second but for his evening breaths. Izuku could imagine all of the once-worn responses: Don’t you dare worry about me, Deku and I’ll kill you for worrying about me!
“Fine,” Katsuki said finally, his voice almost shuddering over the single syllable. “Lemme just…”
Izuku brought Katsuki’s lips towards his—they were already on their way to him, he swore. They kissed lazily as Katsuki slowly ground atop Izuku’s lap. Everything was so much more than usual. Hotter, slicker, more sensitive a thousand times over. Izuku wasn’t sure how long he’d last like this. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but lift his hips up in relaxed intervals. He wasn’t really pushing deeper—there wasn’t any deeper to go—but his body could barely help it. It just naturally wanted to give itself to Katsuki.
“Mm, you’re gonna kill me, nerd.”
Izuku could have scoffed, but he didn’t have the breath in him. “I could never, Kacchan.”
“No,” Katsuki responded immediately, as was natural to him. “You…you…”
Katsuki broke apart his own speech as he began to move, really move, lifting himself off of Izuku and landing softly. But only via his hips—their chests and faces stayed close, legs flanking each other like vines growing in twain. Each thrust was slow, deliberate, in no real rush. Like they’d edge each other forever and then fall asleep like that, without finishing. Just locked together until morning. Izuku didn’t half mind the idea.
As Izuku came to understand Katsuki’s rhythm, he began thrusting in turn, their skin not quite slapping together. The words of sex were sometimes so violent: slapping, pounding, smacking—never just meeting. But that’s what Izuku and Katsuki’s hips were doing: meeting, just kissing each other before rising and coming together yet again. There was an ease to it, a familiarity that had taken years to find with Katsuki, but was now his greatest possession. A gem he’d swallowed to keep safe in his core, whole and warm.
“Can I…?” Izuku asked, putting his arms on Katsuki’s sides. His elbows were held tight at Katsuki’s waist while his hands were up at the top of Katsuki’s ribs. He didn’t finish the question, but there was trust in Katsuki’s eyes as Izuku lowered him back to the bed, both of them on their sides, Izuku’s cock still deep within Katsuki.
Katsuki’s leg came around Izuku’s hip and it was just like when they were tangled in sleep together, trying to osmose the other’s comfort before another day of work. Two different levels of intimacy were twisting and melding and it led Izuku to kiss Katsuki’s cheek, just like he would when they were lucky enough to go to sleep together. Katsuki turned into it and slotted their lips together once again as Izuku began finding a rhythm with which to thrust from his side.
It took a learning curve; somehow this position was new to them even after all this time. Face to face, as was typical, but each one of them having half the leverage, neither able to take control completely. As they began to find their way into it, Izuku couldn’t help but think that maybe it was perfect for them.
The bed dampened with their sweat as Izuku was almost overwhelmed by the heat. The fact that they were doing this under the covers, which had already been warmed by Katsuki’s body. The fact that there were no barriers between them, clothing or condom. It was nothing but skin on skin, mouth on mouth, and Izuku was sweating through it, making every touch slippery and perhaps unsure. But they just gripped each other harder and carried on, getting closer to completion all the time.
Katsuki’s cockhead kept rubbing against Izuku’s stomach, bumping over an abdominal muscle here, catching on his belly button there. But Izuku had no idea if it was enough, if Katsuki was getting close. Whatever it was, Izuku would probably finish the moment Katsuki did, if not sooner. If he lost his discipline, he’d probably find himself cumming deep in Katsuki in an instant—which he still didn’t even know if Katsuki would be okay with. So he reached for Katsuki’s hand and clenched it, holding on.
“Deku…” Katsuki whispered into Izuku’s mouth. His voice was so light while the word bore such weight. Weight from years of history, accolades, and love.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispered back. “Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan.”
They were hardly kissing, mouths barely moving. It was more like CPR, if anything, mouths hovering over top each other, each feeding the other life-giving breaths. Like they were saving each other’s lives.
“ ‘M close,” Katsuki murmured, and Izuku ground in, letting Katsuki’s cock smear precome across his lower abs.
“I’m...gonna cum with you,” Izuku grit out, his breath catching at the end, when Katsuki twitched around him. “Want me to pull out?”
“No.” Katsuki shook his head, the tips of his bangs brushing through the sweat that beaded on Izuku’s forehead. “I’m gonna fucking regret it, but no.”
“I never regret anything with Kacchan.” For once, his voice came out whole and clear.
Katsuki huffed a couple times, words seemingly lost on his tongue. His eyes kept screwing shut, almost in grimaces of pain. But little sounds would escape him, groans and mewls, and so Izuku kept going. He kept going and going, never once losing their rhythm, never once losing his damp grip on Katsuki’s hand. And the moment that Katsuki clenched around him, Izuku was gone, keening gutterally in Katsuki’s mouth as he came, finally came inside Katsuki.
It was almost unbearable, being hugged so tight by a heat so searing. To feel his spend spilling into his lover as Katsuki released between their bodies. Maybe it was the exhaustion or perhaps some sweat had made it into his eyes, but Izuku found himself blinking rapidly, catching some kind of moistness in his eyelashes.
“Fucking sap,” Katsuki whispered, brushing his thumb under one of Izuku’s eyes and then the other.
“Mhmm,” Izuku agreed. His nose brushed against Katsuki’s as he nodded and then their lips met again in the tiniest kiss.
It was a different feeling, pulling out without a condom to tie up and dispose of. Izuku hissed at the oversensitivity—the exchange made for the sparks he’d felt while inside, he supposed. Then they scooted over to the dry side of the bed, the cold of the clean sheets like a rush of water over their already cooling bodies.
They were still wrapped up face to face. Katsuki said something about his leaking ass being his problem, not Izuku’s. But whatever the reason, Izuku didn’t mind. He never had quite worked out a favorite between sleeping facing each other or tucked together back to front. He’d take both forever.
“I regret a lot of things with you,” Katsuki murmured eventually, after their breaths had already steadied, eyes already closed. It took a second for Izuku to realize what he was talking about. But they blinked back open as Katsuki continued speaking, his eyes radiating with a kind of fervor that Izuku usually saw reserved for combat. When there was someone to save. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop regretting those things, but I’ve never regretted a single second since we started. So make sure that’s in your nerd brain.”
Somehow, they’d kept holding hands. In the agreement not to bother with underwear or the mess of the bed, they’d stayed together, wrapped up as much as possible. A greedy exchange. Their hold had loosened in the pursuit of sleep, but Katsuki had tightened it again. Izuku squeezed right back.
“I know, Kacchan, I know.”
“I’ll give you everything.”
“I know, Kacchan.”
They’d had an agreement long ago not to dwell on the past. Both men had assumed with a certain clairvoyance that they’d never make it through if they did. So neither of them were ever trying to make up for one thing or another—they’d get lost that way. Instead, what they made together was always new. New and not perfect but theirs, all theirs.
“Now sleep, Deku. Y’kept me up.”
Izuku chuckled, the mint long lost from his breath. “Sleep, sleep, Kacchan.”
and in the morning when I'm waking up
I swear that you're the first thing that I'm thinking of
I feel it in my body, know it in my mind
oh I, I'm gonna love you for a long time