Chapter Text
Katsuki paced the waiting room at the doctor’s office impatiently. He felt like yelling at the nurse, demanding to know how much longer Izuku would be in the room, getting his cast removed, because it had already been an hour at least and fuck, Katsuki was getting agitated.
Like he always did, anytime Izuku was out of his sight for more than five minutes.
Call it a version of PTSD, or loneliness, or love: whatever the reason, Katsuki felt an inexorable desire to have Izuku close beside him, at all times, such that, when they had returned from Asahikawa, Katsuki had insisted that Izuku come and stay with him. And Izuku’s mother had also suggested that Izuku come and stay with her, but Katsuki had growled at Izuku, so low, that Izuku actually squeaked and then told his mother that thank you anyway, but he would be “fine with Kacchan.”
Eight weeks. Eight long, glorious, miserable weeks.
They were long because Katsuki had picked up the slack in Izuku’s absence, and he was now regularly working 12-16 hours days on patrol. They were glorious, because every time he came home, Izuku was there to say “okaerinasai, Kacchan,” in that happy little voice, and fuck , it made Katsuki want to kiss the shit out of him, every single goddman time.
Which he did. He was careful of Izuku’s cast (sort of), but he loved coming home, hearing that little voice, and capturing Izuku up in his arms, feeling his lips, so warm and so eager, and his hands, so rough, yet so tender.
And they were totally fucking miserable, because as close as Izuku was to him, as much of their lives they already shared, Katsuki…wanted more.
He already had Izuku in his house; he already had Izuku in his bed; he already had Izuku in his life.
But, more than anything else, he wanted Izuku, body and soul.
And…sure. There were things that they had been able to do. There were long, lingering, gentle kisses. There were sponge baths, where Katsuki had been able to caress and to love on as much of Izuku as he could. And there were nights together in Katsuki’s bed, where they were able to hold each other, kiss each other, where Katsuki had started to prepare Izuku for when they would actually be able to really, fully, come together as one.
Katsuki supposed there wasn’t really a reason why they couldn’t have done anything sooner. But with Izuku in the cast, he wasn’t as mobile as Katsuki would have liked, and Katsuki wanted their first time to be…well? To be special. For both of them.
He wanted Izuku to enjoy every second, without having to worry about twisting the wrong way or getting his cast caught.
As for Katsuki? He wanted to make up for lost time.
Annnddd maybe fuck Izuku into that down-filled mattress.
He’d been good. He’d been patient. He’d spent every second of the last eight weeks patrolling, protecting the ward from villains and thieves, then coming home, pretending to enjoy Izuku’s cooking (it…really was horrific…he’d learned nothing from his mother), and then, getting Izuku into a bath, helping him bathe (and maybe do a few other things). Post-bathtime, they would watch TV, with either Izuku’s cast propped up in Katsuki’s lap, Katsuki massaging Izuku’s toes, or Izuku’s cast propped up on the couch arm, Izuku snuggled into Katsuki’s chest. Then, bedtime, where they were slowly beginning to learn all about the other’s likes, loves, and secret spots that drove them wild. (Izuku’s was behind his left ear; Katsuki’s was underneath his right bicep.)
He’d been good, and patient, and now, the day had finally come.
The first day of the rest of their lives.
He didn’t plan on fucking Izuku that night—of course not, the damn nerd would still be so weak!—but he was excited to start the next phase in their relationship.
(Yeah, it was a relationship. He could call it that, and not go into a total fucking panic.)
Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and the doctor, a squat man with long, nimble fingers, emerged, holding the two halves of the cast. “Midoriya-san suggested you might want to hold onto these, Bakugō-san,” he said with a smile. “Would you like to take them home?
“Where’s Izuku?” Katsuki rasped, ignoring the two pieces of plaster the doctor held out to him.
“He’s resting for a few minutes,” the doctor said. “The nurse is setting up his first physical therapy appointment, and then you can take him home.”
“What—what’s his prognosis?” Katsuki asked.
“You are—not family?” the doctor said.
Katsuki puffed out his chest and tried not to howitzer the doctor into the next building. “I’m the closest thing Izuku has to family,” he shot back, ”except for his mother, and maybe All Might.”
The doctor’s smile returned slowly. “You work for Endeavor too, correct?” he said. Katsuki nodded, and the doctor sighed. “It’s going to be several weeks before Midoriya-san can return to his hero work full-time,” the doctor said. “He needs time to rebuild his muscles, and he will need physical therapy to help with that, as well as to keep his body properly balanced. I’m recommending every day for the first two weeks, then three times per week for the next two weeks, and then we will reassess.”
“I’ll make sure he gets here for his physical therapy,” Katsuki promised.
“It’s important that Endeavor-san understands that Midoriya-san’s injuries to his leg were quite serious,” the doctor replied. “I’m not Recovery Girl, and while we were able to speed up the healing process a little bit, he still has a ways to go. I would recommend that he not return to work for at least two more weeks, and that he be limited to desk work until he is fully recovered.”
Katsuki snorted. This guy clearly didn’t know Izuku.
“If he doesn’t listen, Bakugō-san,” the doctor added, “then for sure he will reinjure himself and it will be worse the second time around.”
Katsuki nodded. “If I have to tie him to the chair myself,” he replied, “I’ll make sure Izuku doesn’t overdo it.”
“Good.” The doctor clasped Katsuki on the shoulder. “I’ll be back,” he said. “If you’d like to go in and see him, you can. You sure you don’t want the cast?”
Katsuki ignored the question; in fact, didn’t even wait for the doctor to walk away. He simply turned and dashed into the examination room, where he found Izuku resting on the exam table, chatting with the nurse, absently rubbing at his leg…
His leg. God, fuck, Izuku’s leg!
It was small, and shriveled, compared to his left leg, which was still fairly robust and healthy. Katsuki knew it had to be a side effect of some sort because of the injury, because of the cast? Fuck, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that…
“Oh, Kacchan!” Izuku said happily. “You’re here!”
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed. “Where else would I be, nerd?”
But Izuku’s smile only got bigger, and when he held out his hands, Katsuki couldn’t help but fold Izuku into a warm hug, and maybe he also planted a kiss in the midst of those unruly green curls.
Yeah, he was a goner. So the fuck what?
“Midoriya-kun,” the nurse giggled. She was a typical sort of girl: young, kind of pretty if you looked at her the right way, small tits and wide hips and plush lips. She probably made her significant other very happy. “You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was so hot!”
“Na—Nanako-chan!” Izuku was an adorable, giggly mess, and Katsuki would have chuckled if he wasn’t so pissed off that this girl dared to presume…
“He is, Midoriya-kun!” she insisted. “Tanaka Nanako,” the girl said to Katsuki, bowing her head. “I work for Sato-sensei, and I’ve been helping with Midoriya-kun’s case. He’s such a good little patient!” she added, then give Katsuki a wink as though they were friends (which they fucking were not). “I bet he’s not nearly as good for you as he is for me, though!”
“What the actual—oh, my fucking god, Izuku.” Katsuki scowled. “Come on,” he added, holding out his hand, “we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“Ohh,” Izuku said, and the way his mouth was working, Katuski knew what was coming. “It’s just that…the doctor told me to wait for him before I could leave, and is insisting that I make my physical therapy appointments for next week, but I guess that since you’re here, we can do that now? And then I need to see what he wants me to use to get around, and…”
Katsuki huffed, and reached out and tickled Izuku behind the ear. Izuku squirmed, and whined a little, but settled down. Katsuki turned to the nurse. “Can we schedule his physical therapy?” he asked brusquely. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can get him home and get him to fucking relax.”
Tanaka-san laughed. “Your boyfriend has a mouth on him, Midoriya-kun,” she said to Izuku, who, to his credit, had the decency to blush. “Sure,” she added, turning to Katsuki, “let’s get him scheduled, and then I’ll go see what the doctor wants him to use to get around.”
“How’re you feeling, nerd?” Katsuki asked Izuku, who sighed, and leaned into Katsuki. Katsuki’s arm went protectively around Izuku’s shoulders.
“I’m—okay,” Izuku said softly. “My leg hurts, though.”
“Sato-sensei will prescribe you some painkillers, Midoriya-kun,” Tanaka-san said. “For now, you will need to take it easy, so your body can rest and properly heal.”
Katsuki stayed by Izuku’s side for the rest of the appointment. He and Tanaka-san scheduled Izuku’s physical therapy appointments for the following week (some conflicted with his patrols, but the old man would just have to fucking understand); by the time they were done, the doctor had come back, with a four-pronged cane in one hand, Izuku’s full medical history in the other. Katsuki stood by silently as the doctor and Izuku chatted, and the doctor wrote a prescription of painkillers. When Izuku tried to get off the table, Katsuki was right there, supporting him as Sato-sensei held out the cane. Izuku took the cane, and immediately tried to walk, but his leg was wobbly and he needed to reach out for Katsuki as he struggled to find his balance. Katsuki was immediately concerned, but the doctor just laughed and said, “All in good time, Midoriya-san,” and handed Izuku the painkiller prescription before he nodded at Izuku, frowned at Katsuki, and left the room, Tanaka-san following on his heels.
Finally, Izuku and Katuski were alone in the room; Izuku rested his head on Katuski’s shoulder, and Katsuki drew him close. He pressed a kiss into Izuku’s hair. “We got this, nerd,” he said, more confidently than he felt. “You and me? We ain’t never been afraid of anything. What’s a wobbly little leg in light of all the shit we’ve been through?”
Izuku let out a shaky sigh. “You—you’re right, Kacchan,” he said softly. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to manage, especially with you here to support me.”
Katsuki’s laugh was deep, and hoarse. “Don’t you know, nerd,” he asked, drawing Izuku even closer, “supporting you is like my job now.” He turned Izuku’s chest so that Izuku was resting against him; Izuku’s arms went up, he sighed, “Katsuki,” and Katsui held onto him protectively.
After all that they had been through—after all Izuku had just been through, had just seen?
He wasn’t letting Izuku go, ever again.
Izuku sighed, and buried his face in Katsuki’s chest even more deeply. Katsuki gunted, but brought his arms up to hold Izuku close.
“Don’t worry, Kacchan,” Izuku murmured, his mouth making little wet spots against Katsuki’s black t-shirt. “I won’t ever give you reason to worry, ever again.”
And Katsuki nearly cried, right there in the doctor’s office, because how dare Izuku lie to him like that, even if he thought he was telling the truth. Instead, Katsuki just sighed, and held Izuku more deeply, the two of them clinging to each other, there, in the doctor’s office, Izuku’s leg healed, but shriveled, and Katsuki’s heart, healed, but full.
Katsuki stood at the cooktop, frying up the katsudon, a frown on his face, his eyes drifting to the front door every few seconds.
It was Izuku’s first day back out on patrol since his injury, and Katsuki wanted to celebrate.
(Yes, to celebrate.)
He’d been (rightfully, he thought) pretty fucking upset that his patrol schedule hadn’t matched up with Izuku’s the first day. After all, they’d basically been inseparable for weeks! How was he supposed to go 16 hours without seeing the damn nerd? He’d been about to go to the old man and let him have it, but it had been that damn Shoto who pulled him aside and simply said:
“If Midoriya is always at your side, how will the two of you learn to get along without each other?”
And it made Katsuki really fucking angry, but yet the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Half and Half was right: Izuku had come to rely on Katsuki a lot since his injury, and while Katsuki really like the feeling of being needed, he also understood that Izuku need to learn to assert himself as a hero.
And so, he’d grumbled, but ultimately, he pulled back, and let Izuku have space. Because he was a good person. Because he knew that, deep down, this was what Izuku needed.
That didn’t mean that he wasn’t desperate to be at Izuku’s side, the entire day.
Okay, so he may have been texting Shoto nonstop, to see how Izuku was doing, but he wasn’t a stalker—he was just checking in on his boyfriend! Honestly, that’s all that it was!
Luckily, Todoroki wasn’t an idiot, and faithfully messaged Katsuki all day, letting him know that Izuku, yes, was doing fine, and that Izuku, no, was not suffering any side effects from his injuries.
Katsuki huffed, and took the katsudon off the fryer, setting on some paper towels to drain. He sliced it up, then added dashi to the pan, and, in a bowl, cracked two eggs and beat them lightly. When the dashi was boiling, he added the egg, let it cook, then added the katsudon on top. He let the whole thing cook for a few minutes, while he scooped some rice out of the cooker and into two bowls, then served the whole thing over the rice. He took some scallions out of the refrigerator and cut them over the bowls, adding a bit of green to the dish. He stepped back and surveyed his work.
Not his favorite meal, but for Izuku, it would be perfect.
He grinned, and was just setting them on the counter between the kitchen and yoshitsu when the apartment door opened.
“Tadaima,” called Izuku from the genkan.
“Okaerinasai,” Katsuki called back. “Dinner is ready!”
He heard Izuku dump his boots in the genkan; he strained his neck to see the hallway, where Izuku was sauntering down, still in his hero costume, his face gray and exhausted. “I—Izuku?” Katsuki said, his hackles raising and his body tensing. “How—how was your day?”
Izuku didn’t reply; he just crossed into the kitchen and went right over to Katsuki. He dropped his head forward, so that it was resting against Katsuki’s chest. “I—I’m glad to be home,” he said quietly. “I missed you.”
Oh, Katsuki’s fucking heart.
“I—I made you katsudon,” Katsuki croaked, but his body was working on drawing Izuku in closer, holding him tighter, inhaling his soft, tired scent.
“That—that sounds good,” Izuku sighed, his arms coming up and wrapping around Katuski’s torso, drawing them even closer together. “But honestly, I’m not super hungry. I kind of—” Izuku’s head tilted up, and his brilliant green eyes caught Katsuki’s ruby eyes and held them steady. “I kind of want to just take a bath, relax, and be with you.”
Katsuki’s arms held Izuku tightly. “O—Okay,” he breathed. “You…you eat, okay? However much you want, but you gotta eat something. I’ll get the bath ready.”
Izuku nodded, also into Katsuki’s chest, and Katsuki let him stay there, for a moment, enjoying the feel of the damn nerd, who he loved, more than anyone in the whole fucking world, needing him, desiring comfort from him, loving him.
And then Izuku sighed, and nestled his face even tighter against Katsuki’s tank top, and said, “Mmm, Kacchan, you smell good,” and fuck, Katsuki nearly lost his damn mind.
“H—here,” he rasped, pushing the nerd back, “seriously, eat. I’ll go draw your bath, okay?” Izuku’s brilliant eyes blinked, and Izuku nodded, and sat at the counter. He picked up the chopsticks, and prepared to dive into the katsudon. Satisfied, Katsuki huffed, and went into the bathroom, where he turned on the faucet to the tub, and made sure it was nice and hot. He looked through the oils and salts that Izuku kept on the porcelain edge, and added the relaxing salts, and the relaxing bath oil, and then stirred the water as it ran, his mind and his heart full of Izuku.
He…he loved the damn nerd, even if he didn’t always admit to that out loud. But he did. He loved him so much that when Izuku went on desk duty and protested, Katsuki asked for desk duty for a few days, too, so that he could make sure that Izuku wasn’t going off and doing things that he shouldn’t do. But Izuku on desk duty, and Izuku on patrol, were two different things.
Would Katsuki ever get used to them being on different schedules? He wondered if he might be able to talk to the old man about making sure that, at least a few days a week, they were scheduled for the same time and the same place. Because he couldn’t bear being without Izuku. He liked working with the damn nerd, even if he didn’t broadcast that information. He liked that they made a good team, both on and off patrol. He liked that they could read each other so well. He’d never been as connected to someone as he was to Izuku, and fuck, if he didn’t want to maximize that connection, as much as he could.
“Ka—Kacchan?” Izuku’s voice had Katsuki’s head spinning around to the doorway, and he saw Izuku standing there, leaning against the doorframe, a slight smile on his face. “Your katsudon was delicious, Kacchan,” he said. “Thank you for making dinner for me.”
Katsuki blushed—he normally would have said something like, “Fuck yeah it was delicious!” But it was Izuku, and he looked so cute, and vulnerable, standing there, and Katsuki found that he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
“Is—is the water hot?” Izuku asked, and Katsuki grunted, then dipped his fingers into the water.
“Y—yeah,” he choked out. “It’s still hot.”
Izuku’s smile was relieved. “Good,” he said. “My body is aching for a nice hot bath after the day I’ve had.” And before Katsuki could stop him, say why don’t you undress in the bedroom?, Izuku had the top of his hero costume off, and Katsuki was having trouble breathing at the sight of Izuku’s muscled torso, dotted with the scars of a hard life lived.
“Is it okay if I just take this all off here?” Izuku asked, and Katsuki could only nod dumbly and watch as Izuku peeled off the rest of his costume, stepping out of it and leaving it on the floor. “Ahh,”he breathed, the relief palpable on his face, and Katsuki took in all of Izuku: his muscled torso, dotted with scars; the beautiful V of his groin that pointed towards his black boxer briefs, and his strong legs—even the one that had been injured was full, and robust, and looked as powerful as ever.
“You—you look—” Katsuki rasped, unable to explain his thoughts fully.
“I look what, Kacchan?” Izuku’s blush, his knowing stare, made Katsuki want to forget the bath and just bend Izuku over the tub and have his way with him.
“Perfect,” Katsuki settled on at last. “You look perfect.”
Izuku giggled. “Good,” he said. “Maybe you’ll still think that even when I take these off?” He shook his hips a little, and Katsuki bit back a whine.
“You—you’re always perfect, Izuku,” he said.
“No,” Izuku said, crossing the bath and capturing Katsuki’s cheeks between his palms, “you’re always perfect.” And when he leaned in for a kiss, Katsuki let him—let Izuku’s soft, warm, moist lips gently caress his, let Izuku’s warm, strong body come flush with his, let Izuku’s cock, still in his boxer briefs, throb gently against Katsuki’s own.
“Yes,” Izuku sighed, “perfect.”
Katsuki found himself laughing, despite his desire to do something…more…to Izuku. “Come on, nerd,” he said, “why don’t you skip the shower, and just go ahead and get into the bath?”
Izuku’s emerald eyes were luminous. “Only if you join me,” he murmured, and when he looked up at Katsuki like that, so sweet and yet so alluring, how could Katsuki possibly say no?
“Oh—okay, nerd,” Katsuki chuckled. “I’ll get in with you.” He quickly stripped down, so that he was fully nude, and watched, intent on Izuku’s form, as Izuku hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs, grinned crookedly at Katsuki, and slowly—oh so slowly!—slipped them down, his cock springing free in the process.
Ahhh, fuck. Izuku’s eyes were playful, and his toes kicked the boxer briefs aside. “Are you ready, Kacchan?” he asked, his voice low, and husky.
“Y—yeah,” Katsuki replied, and fuck, how much he wanted to reach out for Izuku, how much he wanted to show Izuku that he had, in fact, missed him…
And then Izuku was over the lip of the tub, his body making a light splash, his mouth making a little “O” and a sigh of contentment as he settled into the heat of the water. He looked up at Katsuki, his emerald eyes gleaming. “Come on, Kacchan,” he said, a soft smile on his face, “don’t you want to join me?”
Katsuki grinned. “Fuck yeah,” he said, sliding into the water behind Izuku, “there is no other place I would rather be.”
Izuku sighed happily, wearily, and leaned back against Katsuki, whose arms drew around Izuku’s torso, settling him between Katsuki’s legs, on Katsuki’s chest. Izuku’s weight felt nice, and warm, and comforting—a blanket covering him, keeping him safe and content.
That’s what Izuku was in Katsuki’s life, really: someone who provided safety and the comfort, especially now that Katsuki had finally opened up a space for Izuku in his heart—a space Izuku had already occupied by default, sure, but nonetheless, a space that now belonged wholly and solely to him.
And feeling Izuku like this—his firm muscles, his soft skin, the ragged edges of his scars—and hearing Izuku’s soft breaths and the gentle thumps of his heart—all of it was calming, was lulling Katsuki into a trance, into a world where only he, and Izuku, existed.
Which was, he found, absolutely fine by him.
So when Izuku grunted, and tried to turn around in his lap, Katsuki grunted right back, and held him closer. He grabbed the washcloth from the side of the tub, dipped it in the water, and slowly, methodically, began to wash the man he loved.
Izuku made little squeaks and sighs of contentment as Katsuki dragged the washcloth over his skin. Katsuki held Izuku’s right arm out with his own, resting Izuku’s arm over his, then leaned Izuku forward slightly, feeling the clench of his ass around Katsuki’s dick, and he let out a slight hiss at the feel of being caught up between such magnificent twin globes—but he would wait his turn. Right now, it was all about making Izuku feel warm, and loved, and comforted.
Once Izuku was properly situated, Katsuki used his left hand to wash him down thoroughly, all the way from under his arm to the tips of his fingers. He used the grapefruit-scented body wash that he knew Izuku loved, and oh, so tenderly, rubbed the soap and the washcloth over Izuku’s arm, up over his shoulder, and back down, taking care to be a little extra gentle with his scars, Izuku offering gentle little sighs along the way.
Katsuki couldn’t help it; seeing Izuku bent over like that, just enough…he leaned forward, and pressed a gentle kiss to Izuku’s nape, and felt him shiver under Katsuki’s lips. Katsuki grinned, and did it again, his chest rumbling with joy at the pleasure he was giving his boyfriend.
His boyfriend…his significant other…his partner…
His love.
Slowly, Katsuki lowered Izuku’s right arm into the water, and raised his left, repeating the process again, peppering Izuku’s back with light kisses as he did so. His own dick twitched in response, but he repressed any feelings he might be having in the moment. He gently pushed Izuku forward, then proceeded to wash his back, again taking care of his scars, this time kissing Izuku’s spine, his delts—wherever Katsuki could reach, wherever he wasn’t currently washing—he was kissing.
He could hear Izuku’s breath, soft and a little needy, and he smiled to himself, because those were exactly the kinds of sounds Katsuki wanted from him. When he tugged Izuku closer so he could wash Izuku’s chest, Katsuki could feel the nerd’s heart beating, hard and fast, and so Katsuki leaned forward and whispered, “Relax, honey—I got you,” and Izuku melted into Katsuki’s touch, the tension whooshing out of him, his body suddenly much more submissive and pliant. Katsuki washed Izuku’s chest, still planting small kisses all along his shoulders, adding generous amounts of soap to the washcloth, making sure his Izuku was clean, and fresh, and loved.
“Turn around,” Katsuki whispered, “and let me see those fucking gorgeous legs.”
Izuku gasped, but did as Katsuki said; he turned around so they were facing each other, the water sloshing slightly, and Izuku’s face shining, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“My—my leg?” Izuku asked, a little cheekily, raising his left foot and resting it on Katsuki’s thigh.
Katsuki’s throat clenched. “P—perfect,” he rasped, and proceeded to wash Izuku’s foot as though it were made of porcelain: with a gentle force, careful not to break, but also, aggressive enough to cleanse it thoroughly. When he washed between Izuku’s toes, Izuku giggled and yelped, “Kacchan!” but Katsuki just grunted, and worked the washcloth in more deeply, Izuku laughing and trying to pull his foot away, Katsuki not letting him until Izuku kicked and splashed, and Katsuki swore, but only moved his grip up to Izuku’s ankle.
“Now the rest of your leg,” he purred, and added more soap, running the washcloth up Izuku’s calf, over and behind his knee, Katsuki gently folding and unfolding it, seeing how much Izuku could bend. Katsuki got to his knees and bent over Izuku’s lower half, lifting Izuku’s knee, then his thigh, carefully washing, letting his fingers run over the wet, supple skin. When he reached between Izuku’s legs, he paused, and Izuku let out a whine and thrust his hips upwards. Katsuki grunted, and worked the washcloth between Izuku’s thighs, over his half-hard dick, and then softly held Izuku’s sacs in his hands as he washed around and behind; when Izuku muttered something that sounded like, “We need to get there, too,” Katsuki just chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, honey; I’ll get there,” and the way that Izuku’s eyes sparked made Katsuki’s heart pound wildly in his chest. His hand briefly fisted Izuku’s cock, pumping it a few times, before he began the process of washing down Izuku’s right leg—more gently, because this was the one that he had broken—but he still lifted the thigh and kissed the inside softly, still washed around and behind his knee, still caressed his calf, still washed around Izuku’s ankle (and delighted in the squeaks that came when he did that), and still washed in between every single toe.
When at last he was done, Katsuki sat back and admired Izuku: admired the way his face was flushed, from the heat of the water and from Katsuki’s attentions; admired the way his chest heaved, from uneven and needy breaths; admired the way his limbs still trembled, even after Katuski had finished washing them.
He admired everything about Izuku; and, in that moment, the realization that Izuku was his, and his alone, struck him hard, and Katsuki swelled, with pride, and with love, and with joy.
Yeah, he could be fucking happy sometimes. So the fuck what?
But Izuku had been right; there was still one place left to wash, and…
“If—if it’s okay,” Izuku murmured, his face now turning an adorable shade of pink, “I’d like to finish up on my own?”
Oh. Oh.
Katsuki hadn’t been quite prepared for that. That is, he had been, just…maybe not tonight, maybe not when he had made dinner and Izuku would be tired and…
“You—you sure?” Katsuki asked, now crawling forward and laying all of his weight on Izuku.
“I—I am, yeah,” Isuku replied huskily, pushing up and meeting Katsuki’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss that had Katsuki gasping for more. “Why—why don’t you go wait for me in the bedroom?”
Katsuki pressed his lips to Izuku’s once more, then scrambled back to his side of the tub. “I’ll do a quick rinse,” he said, getting out of the tub, “and—yeah. Meet you there.”
He could feel Izuku’s eyes on him as he stood under the shower (okay, okay, it was fucking backward, he knew this, but he just didn’t have it in him to care), letting the hot water penetrate his skin. He closed his eyes, and rinsed his hair, before giving his body a quick wash of its own. When he turned off the shower, he could feel Izuku’s eyes on him, and when he looked over his shoulder, there Izuku was: emerald eyes shining, hand dipping between his legs, the water’s surface breaking, and Katsuki knew just what Izuku was up to.
“Couldn’t wait for me, could ya, nerd?” he teased, grabbing a towel and rubbing it vigorously through his hair before slipping it around his hips.
“Just go to our room,” Izuku ordered, a grin on his face. “You’ll get what you’re looking for tonight, Bakugō Katsuki.”
Katsuki laughed. “I think, honey,” he shot back, “that it’s you who’s gonna get what you want.” He turned to leave the bathroom. “Now, hurry up,” he ordered, “because I don’t think your cock’s gonna last much longer without my mouth on it.”
He left the bathroom to Izuku’s strangled protests, cackling as he hurried down to the bedroom, where he quickly dried off and flopped onto the bed. Katsuki rolled over and stared at the ceiling, his breaths coming short and fast, just like Izuku’s had been, only moments before.
They—they were gonna do it. Katsuki was…not that he hadn’t been for the last few months, but now, he really was going to be able to show Izuku just what he—what they—meant to him, to Bakugō Katsuki, to Dynamight himself.
Who would have guessed six months ago—hell, even three months ago?—that Katsuki would be lying on his bed, waiting for Midoriya Izuku to come join him—and that he wouldn’t even really think of it as his bed, as his apartment—not now, not anymore. It was theirs. Even though Izuku still had his apartment in fucking Ikebukuro, Kichijoji was a much nicer neighborhood, and Katsuki’s apartment was much nicer, much bigger, and had much more open space.
Here they could start their lives together. Here they could begin to heal. And here they could love each other: now, and a month from now, and a year from now, and fuck, even ten years from now.
Had Katsuki ever felt this warm in his heart? Had he ever felt so free, so easy, so connected to another human being? Fuck, he was fucking tied to his mother for nine months, and he definitely didn’t feel this connected to her—or to his dad, for that matter.
As far as he was concerned, he and Izuku? They were family.
And Katsuki was gonna do all that he could to keep Izuku close, and to let him know that he was loved, and, more importantly, appreciated.
A gentle knock on the door drew Katsuki’s gaze.
“Ka—Kacchan?”
It was Izuku: his curls were damp from the bath and sticking to his neck and to his shoulders, leaving wet spots that dripped down his muscular chest (a chest that, Katsuki thought, Izuku didn’t show off nearly enough—and he kind of liked it that way), leaving tiny rivers that rippled between his pecs. His chest was bare, drawing Katsuki’s eyes downward, to the towel that sat, easily hooked at his hips, over his glorious ass and thighs (Katsuki longed to bury his face between those cheeks, and it looked like maybe tonight he’d finally get his chance). Izuku’s face was an adorable pink, and his eyes were downcast, but Izuku could see them glowing.
Katsuki’s heart thudded. “C—c’mere, nerd,” he said, his voice dripping with need and lust and passion and love. Izuku’s face broke out into a brilliant smile, and he dropped his towel, letting Katsuki get a full view of his hips, his thighs, and his dick, before he crossed the room and covered Katsuki’s body with his own.
“Ah,” Katsuki said as Izuku kissed his cheeks, his jaw, his nose, his throat, “you’ve been waiting for a moment like this, haven’t you, nerd?”
“I—have,” Izuku giggled, pressing a kiss to Katsuki’s chin. “Just once, I want to know what it’s like to be on top.”
“You can be on top anytime you want, honey,” Katsuki purred, his hands squeezing delightful fistfuls of Izuku’s ass, “because when you are, I get to cop a feel, and it’s fucking magnificent.”
Izuku’s breath hitched, and Katsuki wondered for a panicked second if it was…
“My leg’s fine, Kacchan,” Izuku murmured, his lips now ghosting Katsuki’s. “Your hands just…feel amazing.”
“You feel amazing,” Katsuki rasped, and tilted his lips upwards so Izuku could capture them in a searing, electric kiss.
With that, it was like all the weeks, the months, the fucking years—all of it burned away, and left Izuku, and Katsuki—two people in love, two people whose hearts each yearned for the other, two people who wanted, more than anything, to make the other feel warm, feel incredible, feel loved. Their hands explored in ways they hadn’t yet allowed themselves to do; Katsuki’s legs opened and shifted underneath Izuku, letting his dick slide between Izuku’s cheeks, his heels digging in, his hips already desperate to rut as Izuku’s cock pressed into Katsuki’s belly. Together, they rolled and groped and touched and kissed and licked; when Katsuki nipped at Izuku’s ear, Izuku giggled and nipped at Katsuki’s cheek, and Katsuki growled, and yanked Izuku up, up, up, so that he was straddling Katsuki’s torso, that beautiful dick bouncing, right in Katsuki’s face.
“I wanna taste you, Izuku,” Katsuki breathed.
“Like—like this?” Izuku mumbled, sliding forward just a tiny bit more. “Can you even—”
But Katsuki was propping his head up with an extra pillow, and then sliding Izuku even closer, opening his mouth, welcoming Izuku’s hard cock into the wet heat of his mouth. Hands on Izuku’s ass, Katuski guided him in, closer and closer, taking more and more of Izuku in, breathing out around his dick, until he felt the head hit the back of his throat. Then, he pushed, and Izuku, ever the quick study, picked up on what Katsuki wanted him to do, and allowed himself to be obedient to the push and pull of Katsuki’s hands.
The feeling of Izuku sitting on him like this, of Izuku’s body, full and heavy on his chest, of Izuku’s cock, full and heavy in his mouth, was making Katsuki’s own dick hard and twitchy. Izuku tasted salty, and a little sweet—the combination of his natural scent with the grapefruit, and Katsuki loved it. He yanked on Izuku a little rougher, a little faster, and Izuku again read his signals; Katsuki watched as he rose up slightly on his knees, and began to fuck Katsuki’s mouth, his hips moving in rhythm with Katsuki’s hands, his own hands pushing hard into his thighs, his mouth open and his head thrown back as he rode Katsuki hard.
Katsuki kept his mouth and his throat relaxed, allowing Izuku to slide in and out with ease. His eyes watered, and his mouth was full: of Izuku’s hot, throbbing cock; of the precum, mixing with Katsuki’s saliva, and dribbling over his lips.
“Ahh, Kacchan,” Izuku breathed, his quads flexing and releasing with every push inside Katsuki’s mouth. “Goddammit, your mouth is so hot…”
Katsuki could only growl his response, could only feel his own dick pulsing against his stomach, as he sucked Izuku off, as he felt Izuku’s cock grow bigger, harder, tighter…
It was both too much, and not nearly enough. Katuski wanted more.
He pushed back on Izuku, who moaned, and swore, as his cock came flying back, out of Katsuki’s mouth. Katsuki steadied Izuku by the hips, then slowly, slowly, turned him around, Izuku sputtering and protesting and nearly weeping at having been denied his orgasm.
“Not now, honey,” Katsuki muttered, dragging Izuku’s hips back towards him. “I got better things I gotta do right now.”
Oh, there it was. There is fucking was.
Izuku’s hole: pert, eager, and flexing a little already for him, like it knew what was coming, and it couldn’t wait.
Katsuki started his journey on the glory that was Izuku’s ass: two shining half-moons, perfect, milky skin, ready and waiting for him. Katsuki nipped one cheek, then the other, and Izuku whined, and shook his ass, and Katsuki repeated the action, but bit down a little bit harder this time. “Fuck, Kacchan,” Izuku muttered, to which Katsuki muttered right back, “not just yet,” and nipped at him again. Izuku moaned, and Katsuki took that as his opportunity to dive in.
His finger circled Izuku’s hole; it fluttered under his touch. God, he wanted to be inside Izuku—he wanted to make love to him, the way that he deserved, but first, he wanted Izuku to feel good—so fucking good—that he would be completely and entirely ready and open and willing and wanting.
Yeah, the thought of Izuku begging for his dick had crossed his mind, more than once, especially since, during one intense makeout session, Izuku had said “just put it in me, for fuck’s sake,” and the combination of Izuku’s swearing, with where he wanted Katsuki to put his dick, well…
Yeah, he’d thought about it since. A lot.
But for now, one finger teased Izuku, who was whining and moaning above him.
“Such a pretty hole,” Katsuki said, lightly, pushing at Izuku’s entrance, “does it want to get filled?”
Izuku could only eke out a soft moan, which became louder when Katsuki teased him, then pressed a kiss there, before diving in with his tongue.
Ah, fuck, feeling Izuku writhing above him, as he did the thing he’d been wanting to do for weeks, months, maybe years—it was beyond anything Katsuki could have imagined. Izuku was tight, but Katsuki pulled back just enough to kiss his right cheek and breathe, “Relax,” which Izuku seemed to take to heart; Katsuki could hear him, trying to control his breathing, as he muttered and swore and his ass shook around Katsuki’s face.
Here. Here was where he wanted to be.
With Izuku. Loving Izuku.
Being in love with Izuku.
Doing things with Izuku that…well, some of them, yeah, sure, he’d done with other people, but other people weren’t Deku, weren’t Midoriya, weren’t his Izuku.
They weren’t the person he had loved, most of his adult life, the person with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his adult life, loving and living and breathing and getting old and having kids and all that shit that came along with sharing a life, with making a home. He could believe that he was laying here, knuckle and tongue-deep in Izuku, thinking about being married to him, but somehow, being this close to Izuku made him think all the thoughts that came along with making someone that he loved—the person that he loved—feel this good.
To feel Izuku clenching and moaning and calling his name in a way that made his own dick throb, heavy with need. He could feel Izuku’s hand shift, from his thigh to his cock, and when he murmured, “C—can I, Kacchan,” Katsuki nipped at his cheek and grunted his affirmation, giving Izuku permission to jerk himself off.
Yes. Katsuki wanted Izuku to have all the feelings tonight: all the kisses, all the licks, the nips, the cuddles. All the skin pressed to skin, body against body, heat against heat.
And yeah, Katsuki also just really wanted to eat Izuku’s ass.
It wasn’t long before Izuku came, with loud cries of Katsuki’s name ripping from his throat, his hand clinging to his dick, Katsuki still buried in his delicious ass, the force of Izuku’s orgasm pulsing around Katsuki’s finger, around his tongue, trying to suck them both deeper and nearly succeeding. Katsuki dropped back down onto the mattress, pulling Izuku down with him, pressing soft kisses into his hair as he held Izuku close. Izuku’s cock was still leaking, still recovering from the insane heights his orgasm must have sent him to. “Feel good, honey?” Katsuki whispered.
Izuku nodded against Katsuki’s chest; then, with a strength Katsuki sometimes forgot Izuku had, rolled them both over so that Katsuki was on top. “Will—do you want to—” Izuku asked, his eyes wide and his voice slightly stuttering.
“Only if you do,” Katsuki said, feeling suddenly soft and gushy at the sight of Izuku sprawled beneath him, face flushed and eyes glassy, at the realization that he, Katsuki, had made Izuku this way, that he had some power to make another person come alive like this—to make another person feel so good, so wonderful, so…
“Absolutely,” Izuku breathed, tilting his face up. Katsuki granted him a kiss: soft, languid, his tongue running over Izuku’s lips, over his teeth, meeting Izuku’s own tongue briefly before pulling away. Katsuki leaned over to the night stand, where he kept the bottle of lube they’d been using fairly frequently, along with a condom. He briefly remembered the conversation they’d had when Katsuki went to purchase them: Izuku had said no, they weren’t needed, but until they were sure they were it for each other (Katsuki was already sure, but he wasn’t fucking pushy, okay?), Katsuki wanted to be safe and shit. And Izuku had agreed.
Katsuki opened the condom, tossed the wrapper on the floor, and flicked the tip. He rolled the condom down his cock, Izuku’s eyes devouring it, him, the scene—all of it—hungrily. He watched as Katsuki opened the bottle of lube, and coated his fingers, then shifted down so he was settled back between Izuku’s legs, but from a different angle this time. He kissed the inside of Izuku’s left thigh, then his right, his tongue trailing down over the milky skin again, taking in the softness of Izuku’s flesh, the strength of his muscles, the warmth of his body, flush against Katsuki’s. Katsuki inhaled Izuku’s fresh, clean scent, tinged with a hint of sex, and ran his finger along the length of Izuku’s dick, which pulsed, almost painfully, under his touch. His hand rounded the circumference, stroked it once, twice, then trailed back down the shaft, to admire Izuku’s beautiful sacs, trimmed and perfect. He pressed two kisses there, and nestled his face in the spot between Izuku’s dick and his thigh, and then, slowly and gently, he slipped one, then two, fingers inside Izuku, past the tight little ring of muscle, and deep into his waiting hole.
Using his tongue, Katsuki had gotten only a few centimeters inside of Izuku, but now, using his fingers, he could feel Izuku sucking him in, holding on, and not wanting to let him go. Slowly, Katsuki pulled back, then thrust in again, Izuku crying out above him as his muscles relaxed and his body opened up for Katuski.
“That’s it,” Katsuki cooed, his fingers now slipping in and out with greater ease. “Looks like I prepped you nice and good, honey. Look at how well you’re opening up for me.”
“Hhgnnh,” Izuku babbled, “fu—fuck me, please, Kacchan, please.”
Katsuki curled his fingers, and Izuku threw his head back and howled as Katsuki’s fingers brushed against his prostate. His fingers now thrusting more fiercely, Katsuki trailed kisses along Izuku’s thighs, his stomach, his groin, his dick. When he dropped his mouth onto Izuku’s cock quickly, Izuku gasped, and jerked his hips upward, Katsuki having to push down on Izuku’s hip with his free hand in order to slow Izuku’s movements.
“There, there, honey,” he soothed, “so close. We’re almost there, I promise.”
Izuku was flushed and sweaty. “Please,” he begged, his hands scrabbling on the sheets and his hips trying to thrust downwards, “please, Kacchan, now?”
Katsuki chuckled, and slipped one more finger inside Izuku, who moaned loudly in response. “One more, honey,” he replied. “I know you can do it.”
“I—I can,” he ground out. “But I just…would rather it was your dick!”
And then Katsuki curled his fingers, and Izuku cried out, his whole body trembling, his dick quickly rising to attention again. Katsuki enjoyed watching his fingers sliding in and out of Izuku, whose hole was heated and glistening and so fucking ready Katsuki could barely hold himself together. His fingers, slick with lube and with Izuku, were slipping now—Katsuki was slipping now, and if he wasn’t careful, he was gonna—
One more curl of his fingers, one more brush against Izuku’s prostate, and Katsuki withdrew, even as Izuku was crying out for him to both stop and keep going—just to fuck him, somehow. Katsuki got the lube again, applied it to the condom, then dripped a little bit more between Izuku’s cheeks, causing Izuku to half-giggle, half-groan, and then half-chuckle again when Katsuki moved over him, Izuku’s legs pulling back, just like they had been practicing, once Izuku’s legs were strong enough to try out different positions.
“Ready, honey?” Katsuki breathed, and Izuku looked up at him, his eyes shining and his lips trembling, and when he nodded, Katsuki claimed his lips in a deep kiss as he began to slowly push inside.
He’d prepped Izuku with his fingers and his tongue, but fuck, he was still tight as Katsuki pressed just slightly past Izuku’s sweet ring of muscle. It fluttered against him, but Katsuki simply deepened their kiss, Izuku’s arms going around his neck as his legs fell open and he began to finally, completely, relax. It didn’t take long for Katsuki find a rhythm, moving slowly at first, giving Izuku time to get used to the sudden intrusion; fingers were great, but Katsuki understood that they were a poor substitute for his dick, which…Izuku could barely fit Katsuki in his mouth, let alone swallow him all the way to the hilt. Bit by bit, he pushed in, deeper and deeper each time, Izuku softly moaning, digging his heels into the small of Katsuki’s back, his hands clinging to whatever they could find: at first, the sheets, and then, Katsuki’s arms, then his back, drawing them closer and closer, as Katsuki filled Izuku up, more and more.
Soon, their bodies were flush, and Katsuki could move more freely; his hips thrust into Izuku, Izuku’s voice breaking as he cried out for Katsuki to go faster, Izuku’s lips hungrily devouring Katsuki: his nose, his cheeks, his ears, his chin, his lips—whatever Izuku could reach. His body was warm, inside and out, and the slickness of the lube, combined with the slickness of their sweat, was pushing Katsuki on, his cock throbbing painfully inside of Izuku, while Izuku’s dick twitched between them.
So good. It felt so fucking good being this close to another person—being this close to Izuku. The man who had, for so many years, had his back, no matter what. The man who got him, who let him lean into his anger when he needed to, who gave him a quiet smile, or a nod, or a space to do whatever he needed to do in order to cope and move on from the situation. The man who had opened his home and his heart, both to Katsuki and to so many others. The man who had faced down death more times than Katsuki cared to acknowledge.
The man who he loved completely, and fully.
“Izuku,” he murmured as they moved together now, their bodies one, rocking and undulating with each thrust, with each motion of Katuski’s hips against Izuku. Their lips sought each other; their hands roamed freely. When Katsuki caught hold of Izuku’s cock, and rubbed his thumb over the head, Izuku moaned into his mouth, and jerked up into Katsuki’s dick, and fuck if that wasn’t one of the hottest things that had ever happened to him.
“Ka—Katsuki,” Izuku breathed in between kisses. “I—can we—harder, please? And—your hand—keep it.”
Katsuki kissed the tip of Izuku’s nose. “Whatever you want to do,” he whispered back, and grunted, dropping his free hand to the side to give himself a better angle, keeping his other hand on Izuku’s dick, stroking it in time with his thrusts, which had increased both in timing and in velocity. He was pounding into Izuku now, his hips moving much faster than before. In return, Izuku moved instinctually, his muscles tensing as he rolled through them all in an attempt to both keep up with Katsuki and temper his own body’s reactions.
Izuku’s face scrunched up as he panted; Katsuki kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, trying to melt away the tension he saw. “Let go, honey,” he whispered. “You’re safe; we’re together. Just let it all fucking go.”
“I—ahh—Kacchan,” Izuku moaned, clutching at Katsuki, desperate, wanton, needy, and Katsuki responded by fucking him harder, their bodies slapping, sliding, slipping, over the sheets, over each other, as they both began to chase their orgasms, as they both began to fall deeper and deeper into the sensations of the moment.
Izuku reached the precipice first, even though he’d already cum once that evening. Katsuki could feel Izuku’s dick growing hand in his hand, and he gave it several vigorous strokes, even as he fucked Izuku even more fiercely. Izuku’s responding groan was loud, and long, as he sucked Katsuki in, and thank fuck Katsuki had put in soundproofing the year before, because otherwise his neighbors would know exactly what was going on in his apartment. He grunted, buried his face in Izuku’s shoulder, and sucked and bit at the flesh there until he, too, fell over into the sweet oblivion of ecstasy, his vision swimming and his mind nearly going blank, as all he could see, hear, taste, and smell, and touch, was Midoriya Izuku. His hips jerked as he came into the condom, over and over, so much that Katsuki, for a brief second, worried it might overflow, but rational thought took hold again, and he simply dropped onto Izuku—the nerd could definitely hold his weight—and lay there, cock still in Izuku, still twitching from the aftershocks of the orgasm, still not really ready to let go.
“Ka—Kacchan.” Izuku’s voice was soft. “Ka—Kacchan.”
Katsuki just grunted into Izuku’s shoulder and pressed a kiss there. Izuku laughed.
“You—you’re heavy, Kacchan,” he said at last. “And—and my leg…”
“Shit, fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed, sitting straight up and pulling out. “I’m sorry, Izuku—what can I do—here, maybe if we elevate it—”
Izuku’s laugh was soft. “I don’t think we need to do that,” he said. “I just need to be careful of how I twist, is all.”
Fuck, fuck. Katsuki had hurt him. Katsuki had pushed him to do something he wasn’t ready for. Katsuki had—
“Katsuki,” Izuku said, and the way he said Katsuki’s given name, like he was fucking okay, was…
“It was amazing,” Izuku said, his eyes all blissed out and shining. He drew Katsuki to him, and allowed Katsuki to wrap his arms around Izuku, holding him close, their legs entwined, their bodies still molded together, so it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
Because in so many ways—in all the ways that fucking counted—Izuku and Katsuki were one: they were a team, they were partners, they were friends, and, most importantly, they were lovers. That was why when, on that fateful night in Asahikawa, when they kissed outside the hospital, in the snow—when Izuku had thrown his crutches and Katsuki had to catch him—that Katsuki had sworn, to himself and to Izuku, that he would always be there to catch Izuku, that he would always be there to help pick up the pieces.
And although they’d been intimate on some level for several months now, being together like this—bringing themselves closer like this, was…
“Mmm, Katsuki.” Izuku was dozing on his chest, and the feeling left Katsuki so warm and pleasant he didn’t have the heart to wake the damn nerd.
“What is it, honey?” Katsuki asked, brushing a stray curl out of Izuku’s face.
“Katsuki, I—” Izuku scrunched up his face, like he did sometimes when he was half asleep, and Katsuki would never tell another living soul, but he found it adorable. “I love you.”
Katsuki’s world shook and trembled and quaked. His entire body went stiff for a moment, at Izuku’s simple, yet so fucking meaningful, statement.
They—there were together. And Izuku loved him. And he loved Izuku. They were fucking badass pro heroes with badass quirks, and together, they made a badass team.
Maybe love, and all that came with it, was pretty badass, too.
“Tch,” Katsuki muttered, hugging Izuku closer to him, “I’ve already told ya—I’ll always be there to catch you.”
“I know.” Izuku’s voice was thick and drowsy. “And I’ll be there to catch you…too.”
Izuku’s breathing became deep, and even, and regular, and Katsuki lay there, in the silence, listening only to the sound of Izuku’s breath and the occasional voices of people passing by the building. Slowly, he brought his hand up, from Izuku’s waist, to his hair, and he drew Izuku closer in, so he could bury his face in that wonderful, silly, annoying mop of hair.
If this is what it’s like to be caught, Katsuki thought, then I’ll fall for Izuku…every single, damn day…tonight, and tomorrow, and forever.