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Operation Super Suit is stalling again. Something about Round Face needing to support her parents more and everybody else planning for a class vacation. It’s all bullshit, but bullshit that Katsuki unfortunately needs to deal with.
He needs to get his funds up. The quicker, the better.
It’s not he was especially interested in alpha venom extraction before this; it’s just that some sidekicks were talking about side gigs (Katsuki totally didn’t ask) and mentioned that stuff like alpha venom extraction can pay pretty well for a base rate, plus bonuses for extra yield. And the certification course and exam can be taken online for 10000 yen.
“It’s very important work!” Izuku, his resident encyclopedia, had babbled when he asked him about the topic at their weekly lunch, eyes going wide. “Um, alphan venom is used in a lot of medicinal materials, actually.”
Which, as far as Katsuki can tell, is true. The ten-hour certification course loved to boast this factoid about eight times per unit. Katsuki doesn’t need to feel like a hero for pushing a bunch of poison out of some idiot alpha’s mouth, though. What he needs is Izuku back by his side, trying to kick his ass as they race for the top.
But in order to get there, what he needs first is cash. A lot of it.
So yeah, an extra 7000 yen in his pocket, plus additional bonuses if he does a good job and extracts more than the other losers? He’ll take that. Easy. Plus, he has the added advantage of being a purely neutral beta. Sure, most people are betas, but few are as exceptionally neutral as he is. If prime betas were a thing, Katsuki would surely be considered one. He has no reaction to omegas at all and alphas don’t do shit to him, with the exception of a few (one.)
By the time he’s headed to his first session with a bunch of other newly certified people, he’s pretty confident that this new revenue stream will, at the very least, make his weekly groceries less tight while he’s busy squirreling away every spare cent for a dream.
The clinic is on the second floor of a building about fifteen minutes from his agency, which is another plus. While he busies himself with examining the spread out curtains lining the walls, his fellow graduates (such as they are) continue to filter in.
“Thank you all for coming!” a woman says, waving as she enters the large room. She’s wearing obnoxiously neon latex gloves. “I’m always happy to guide new extractors through the process. Once you get your first session under your belt, you’ll be amazed by how smooth and easy it is.”
Katsuki shoves his hands into his pockets. He has another double shift on Monday, so this shit really better be quick. They said an hour on average.
“Now, before we let in the alphas and get you all situated, I thought it would be good to go over a brief, in-person demonstration to ensure that we have all based covered. Normally it’s a just a formality, but this time I think I’ll be able to at least show you all something interesting while going through the usual spiel.”
Damn, she is really peppy. That’s obnoxious as hell.
She claps her hands together, the gloves squeaking. “Okay! Alpha-kun, why don’t you come in and say hi?”
Izuku steps through the door, wearing his typical casual wear consisting of the world’s baggiest cargo shorts and a rumpled t-shirt.
Izuku.
As in Midoriya Izuku—
“He’s one of our best donors,” Glove Creep says.
The room swims before Katsuki for a terrifying moment. He feels unsteady. Just… What. What the actual fuck.
Izuku? Seriously?
She pats the nightmarish figment’s shoulder. “Thank you for agreeing to familiarize our volunteers with Alphan oral anatomy.”
Izuku smiles and nods, his dorky cheeks flushed. “Th-thank you all for agreeing to help at this clinic. It’s very important work! I hope we can help lots of people.”
This is real. Izuku, in front of him. Izuku, the entire reason he’s even at this stupid fucking place, is about to give a demonstration of his…
Well, he does have big fangs. They stick out of his mouth even when it’s closed. Katsuki used to make fun of him for it when they came in during middle school, Izuku having the misfortune of an early and prominent puberty. Wonder if you’ll grow into those walrus tusks, loser!
He did not, in fact, grow into them.
Katsuki’s stomach feels tight and hard at the memory; it always does whenever he thinks about the myriad ways he’s hurt Izuku over the years.
Glove Creep grabs Izuku’s head, yanking it to face them all.
Katsuki almost steps forward, lips curling into a scowl. What the fuck?
“As you can see, Alpha-kun has very large incisors. They’re visible even when his mouth is closed!” She shifts Izuku’s face from side to side. His right eye twitches slightly, his close-lipped smile wobbling.
She pinches at the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. “Still, you’ll see the incisors better like this.” She points to the massive, sharp fangs hanging from the roof of his mouth like murderous stalactites. “This is the primary site for venom expulsion. They’re probably too small to see from over there, but there are small pricks at the tips, revealing the hollow nature of the enamel.” Her gloved finger lightly taps at one. Izuku restrains a shudder, squeezing his eyes shut.
Katsuki shifts at that, swallowing thickly. He slips his hands into his pockets, watching her trace along the curve of the tooth. He does not note the small trembles of Izuku’s body, how his head is kept perfectly still in her grip. Nope. No fucking way.
She tilts his head further back. “You probably can’t see this, but behind the teeth—” She taps. “—sit the venom bulbs. There’s slight swelling along the gum line. This one here has some pretty pronounced bulbs, which is why he’s good to use as an example. If anyone wants a closer look, feel free to come up.”
A few do. Katsuki sure as fuck does not.
“Wow,” one says, bending to look up at Izuku’s mouth like it’s a fucking art exhibit or some shit. “They’re huge!”
Izuku’s tongue is wet and pink in his mouth, lying limp as his throat flexes with each pant of breath. His brow furrows.
“Can we touch?” a man asks.
Katsuki’s fists clench at his sides, tendons straining.
“Not yet,” the instructor says. “We want to make sure all of his venom gets deposited in the vials. He’s pretty sensitive.”
Pretty sensitive.
Katsuki considers vaulting out the window and getting the fuck out of this clown show.
“Alright, back up, back up! I haven’t finished. You all already did the preliminary work with the example kits, so you’re familiar with the normal cases. Alpha-kun here is a bit of a special case, since he has auxiliary incisors that need additional milking if we’re going to get everything.”
Soft murmurs break out on either side of Katsuki. Something about ‘primes’ and ‘enigmas’ and other bullshit his old school textbooks always said were bogus.
She waggles her gloved finger under two smaller, needle-like teeth crushed between his massive alpha fangs and the rest of his teeth. “Alpha-kun here has what appears to be a second set of ‘fangs,’ but they’re actually what we call auxiliary incisors. They are a little similar to wisdom teeth; you might have heard of those. Basically, they’re vestigial teeth that most alphas no longer develop.”
A hand shoots up.
She points. “Yes?”
“How common is this?”
“A good question!” She smiles, reaching out to lightly touch one of the thin teeth. Izuku lets out a soft sound, wet tongue flexing. “They are incredibly rare. Scientists aren’t totally sure why some alphas still develop them, but Alpha-kun here also has some other vestigial traits, such as wisdom teeth and an additional joint in the fifth toe. It may coincide with people with other less evolved traits, as a result, but there have been cases of alphas with all sorts of quirks possessing these teeth. It’s good to be prepared for these situations, since they do happen.”
Sweat dots Izuku’s forehead as she strokes along the little tooth. Katsuki can’t tell if it hurts or…what. It doesn’t look pleasant, regardless.
“They’re quite a pain for him! They can prove a hassle for eating or speaking.” She slides along the second tooth. Izuku twitches. “Scientists theorize they have to do with self-defense and mating, since those are the instances which trigger their venom flow, but we’re not really sure what purpose they actually fulfill.”
“Why doesn’t he get them pulled, then?”
“Ah! Another good question.” She forces Izuku’s head further back, wiggling her finger inside his mouth. “They can get pulled when the alpha is young, but Alpha-kun here has developed venom bulbs for the auxiliary incisors. Removing them could permanently damage his sinuses.”
Interested murmurs flood the small space.
“Alphas with these incisors may need additional stimulation to get the venom flowing, and for a total extraction, it’s necessary. These can get backed up very easily, due to the cramped position, so they really shouldn’t be skipped in the event that you encounter them.” She lowers Izuku’s head slightly. “But he’s the only case we have here today, so no worries about that.”
Katsuki’s jaw is incredibly tight. He forcibly unclenches.
“Now, you all passed your certification, so I’m sure you’re aware of the safety procedures.” She moves Izuku’s head around in a slow circle, patting at his cheek. “I can do this with Alpha-kun because he’s a very docile alpha; most of you will need to wear your bite-proof gloves. Please don’t take it personally; growling and biting when having their mouths handled are automatic responses.”
A few of the people beside Katsuki nod.
“Now, are there any other questions?”
Silence.
She smiles, letting go of Izuku’s jaw. He doesn’t move for a few seconds, as if waiting to see if she’ll grab him again. When she doesn’t, he blinks and rotates his jaw a few times, ducking his head. His eyes are glassy.
Katsuki watches her lean over and murmur something to Izuku. He nods, swallowing thickly, and shuffles off. “Now,” she says, clapping. The sound is muffled by her stupid fucking gloves, which are covered in Izuku’s spit.
Something positively idiotic inside of him feels weirdly jealous of that fact.
“I have two assistants,” she says, “who will direct each of you to your assigned stations. You’ll have privacy curtains between each area. It just makes the process a little less awkward, haha.”
There are a couple murmurs of agreement, then the crowd starts to break up when two other gloved creeps start pulling people aside.
Glove Creep Prime nods to Katsuki. “You can come with me, if you’d like!”
He bites back a choice retort, following her down the short hallway, opposite of the curtains.
“This is your room,” she says, opening a door.
Katsuki’s eyes narrow. “The others ain’t in single rooms.”
“As our top scorer, we figured we’d give you the special case if that’s alright.”
Part of him preens at that; of course it makes sense to give him the special case. Katsuki prides himself on being the best and he often is.
“Remember, primaries first. Then auxiliaries. Milking them at the same time leads to worse yield.”
“Uh huh.”
She pats his shoulder. “I’ll check in on you in a bit. Good luck!”
He rolls his eyes, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
Izuku stares back at him, seated on the tiny stool in front of the extraction apparatus.
Izuku. Fuck.
“O-oh. Um. Hi, Kacchan,” he says, face hot. “How are you…?”
“Fine. Guess I’m the one capping your nasty alpha spit,” he replies.
Izuku looks at him with wide eyes. Then, “O-oh. Okay.”
“So you’re a science experiment on the weekends?”
He flushes, lips pinched. “I’m not a science experiment. I need to get milked at least once a month, anyways; it’s way better that it’s going to a good cause rather than just getting washed down my sink.”
Katsuki snaps on the latex gloves placed by the extractors. They’re just some mesh held over clips for the vials to be placed. Nothing crazy.
This doesn’t need to be weird. They’re both here for the same thing. They don’t need to make it weird.
“Funny seeing you here,” Izuku says, immediately making it weird.
Katsuki grunts.
“Um. So you passed alpha milking certification? Where did you find the time? I guess that why you asked about it… I didn’t expect this, though. Just. You’re always pulling shifts at work. —N-not that you couldn’t do this! Kacchan is amazing…”
“Was looking for something part-time for extra cash,” he says. “Not all of us are gold-hearted heroes donating fluids for orphan vaccines.”
Izuku pouts. “Kacchan, don’t tease me. This is already embarrassing enough.”
“Fine. Open your damn mouth.”
Izuku sighs before lowering his jaw.
Katsuki takes the anti-bacterial pads off the table and wipes down his teeth. His breath is hot against his wrist, damp and heavy. “Does that hurt?”
“Nn?”
“Touching your teeth.”
“Uh uh.”
He withdraws his hand. “Didn’t look fun when she grabbed you for the class demo.”
Izuku shrugs, eyes darting to the side. “I don’t think anybody would like having their jaw pried open.”
“You were pretty calm.” Katsuki thinks back to Glove Creep’s words. Docile.
He snorts. “I just have good self control, ’s all.”
Katsuki grunts, taking stock of the supplies again. Vials, check. Mesh, check. Wish he had more, but whatever. A couple of other apparatuses around the room, including a canister attached to a hose with an oblong nozzle tucked around the side. Probably some just-in-case cleaning junk he won’t be needing.
“And, um…” Izuku hesitates. Katsuki glances behind him, watches the bob of his throat as he swallows. “I just. I, um. She was right. I’m not exactly a, um. A normal? Alpha?”
“Coulda told you that. ‘Normal’ ain’t a word I’d apply to you.”
Izuku’s brow scrunches cutely.
“Alright, stand up. Gotta milk all this venom out of your teeth so you don’t walk around with chipmunk cheeks or whatever.”
“Kacchan.”
“Not teasing. That’s what we’re here for, yeah?”
Izuku stands, settling his face over the extractors. He opens his mouth, letting out a little, shaky sigh as he does.
Getting Izuku to bite the mesh is no issue. The trouble is getting the venom.
Katsuki’s read the guides at least ten times, now. He knows it requires a very firm squeeze at the base of the skull and the jaw will snap down reflexively. There’s a seventy percent chance of it being a dry bite, though.
“Kacchan?”
“Just thinking. They didn’t give a lot of replacement meshes for attempts.”
“Oh! Um, that’s not an issue with me.” He flushes when Katsuki looks at him. “I… I always have, um. It always triggers a venom response.”
Huh.
He wonders what other “weird” shit Izuku has going on. The list seems to be ongoing.
“I’ll bite into it,” he reassures Katsuki. “It’s an automatic response. Just squeeze my nape.”
He places his hand on Izuku’s neck, thumb sliding along the side of his throat. The skin is warm through the thin barrier of the glove.
“Just squeeze, Kacchan,” he says, voice muffled. “If it’s too hard for you—”
Katsuki squeezes.
Izuku’s jaw clamps down, fangs burrowing into the mesh. A low growl exits his throat, quickly petering off. As soon as the venom starts dripping, he goes pliant, eyes lidded and glassy.
Katsuki almost jerks back at the sudden shift, but manages to check himself.
He does wave his hand in front of Izuku’s eyes, though. Just to check. They lazily following his hand, watching without comprehension. “Damn,” he whispers. “The hell?”
The venom drips from his fangs at a rapid rate, filling the twin vials. Clear drops form at the tip of each fang and fall off to make room for another. Shit, he’s gonna need to do some quick swaps when it’s time.
Izuku just sways, totally checked out.
There’s really nothing to do, at this point. Nothing beside watch Izuku zone out and wait for the vials to reach capacity. He snaps his fingers a few times in front of him, but still nothing. Just that hazy, unfocused gaze. Katsuki could probably blast his quirk right next to his head and get just as much of a reaction.
There wasn’t any mention of a reaction like this in his training module. He’s beginning to feel like the 10000 yen certification fee might have been a scam.
He’s swapping the first set of vials out—which he does perfectly, of course—when the head extractor stops by again.
“How’s it going?” Glove Creep asks.
“Fine,” he bites back. “It’s— Fine. He’s just standing there.”
“Oh.” She hums, ducking her head to examine Izuku. “Yeah, he’s really backed up, this time. You’re going to need to massage his lymph glands. You good with that?”
Katsuki swallows. “‘Course I’m good. No problem.”
“And don’t forget that he has a second set of incisors, so once the primaries are capped off, you’ll need to milk those.”
“Sure.” As she steps away, he clears his throat. “Just. He’s…he’s not reacting to anything.”
“He’s in an envenomation trance,” she says, smiling. She pats Izuku’s head. He lets out a weird little growl but doesn’t move. She leans forward. “I didn’t want to bring it up at the exhibition because it’s a little…y’know. It’s not super common; it’s more associated with this sort of alpha.”
“Sort of alpha,” he echoes.
“The unevolved sort,” she clarifies. She pats him again. He growls again. “I didn’t want to say this in front of anybody, either, but he’s actually quirkless. So that’s how he has all of these brutish traits. Less evolved.”
Katsuki’s eye twitches.
“He produces a lot. Hope you’re up to the task. This is already more than I’m used to seeing from him. Guess you’ll get a big bonus, at least!”
“The hell does being in an envenomation trance got to do with standing there like a sack of bricks?”
She knocks lightly at the top of his head. “It means he’s not there at all. Unevolved alphas like this, they don’t remember anything when they’re getting milked. He’s basically just an animal, right now. He’ll be back with us after it’s all done, though!”
The way she talks about Izuku rankles Katsuki more than a little. He bites his tongue, though. 7000 yen. And the thought of anybody else touching Izuku when he’s like this makes him feel…
“I got it,” he says shortly. “You don’t gotta play babysitter for me. I was the best scorer, yeah? You can leave.”
She arches a brow, eyes darting along the equipment in the room. “Alright,” she says, stepping away from Izuku. “He’s a very submissive alpha, luckily, but if you need anything, there is a panic button by the door.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t forget about the auxiliary incisors! He’ll need the additional stimulation equipment behind you.”
He waves her off, grimacing. “I got it, I got it!”
“Just be professional about his reaction, please. Some of this may seem to be of a more…intimate nature, but it’s all involuntary on his part.”
“I got it, jeez!”
She gives him a really weird smile and a salute, those fucking neon gloves like hazard signs.
“Dumbass,” he mutters once the door closes. He unscrews the second set of vials and slots in the third. “Stupid-ass, loser-ass…”
Izuku huffs.
“Right.” Katsuki feels under his jaw. The lymph glands are so swollen that they bulge out slightly. He presses down on either side and hears a sharp hiss of liquid. Glancing up, he sees clear venom shooting hard into the vials. A whimper escapes Izuku’s throat.
“Shit,” he whispers, removing his fingers. “Lemme try again.” He rubs slow circles into the glands, encouraging circulation and pushing more venom through that freaky venom transport system he had to take note of on his certification test.
“Ka’ha’,” he hears above him, voice weak.
“I’m here, nerd,” he replies. “You with me?”
“Ha.”
When he checks, he sees that same lidded, dead look. As he’s inspecting Izuku’s face, though, the smell starts to creep up on him. Alphan musk.
His nose wrinkles.
A common response to venom milking. Still, he’s rarely smelled Izuku before today. A few times, sure, but never since they reached full adulthood. The smell isn’t…unpleasant, not totally. Still, it’s very heavy. He feels like he’s been shoved in Izuku’s armpit, that’s how strong it is.
“Ka’ha’.”
“Yeah.”
Izuku blinks slowly, pupils blown.
Very useful feedback. Thanks, asshole. He returns to massaging Izuku’s glands with his fingertips, doing his best to put the smell out of his mind. There’s probably some pheromonal load in it that he’s not totally getting, thank fuck.
“‘Ka’ha’,” Izuku croaks, voice high.
“Izuku,” he replies, glancing at the vials. Glove Creep wasn’t kidding; he produces a lot of venom.
“Hur’s,” he whines, doing nothing to remove himself from Katsuki’s grip.
Katsuki’s brow furrows. Izuku never complains about pain. His whole M.O.—much to Katsuki’s unending frustration and despair—is to lock anything like that tightly behind his ribs and hold it inside until his stupid, emotionally constipated ass dies.
“Where does it hurt?” he asks.
Izuku, predictably, does not answer.
Katsuki considers stabbing his fingers into his glands out of spite, but barely restrains himself. Instead, he shifts his fingers up and down the length of the gland, pressing against the edge of his jaw. Seems to be draining, at least. “Fuck, you really did have chipmunk cheeks on your neck. How the hell do you let this build up for a month, idiot?”
All he receives is a weird snuffling sound.
He thinks of Glove Creep rapping her knuckles on Izuku’s head and feels a new burst of anger, sour in the back of his throat. Stupid piece of shit, acting like Izuku’s just a dumb animal. Saying that shit about quirkless alphas or whatever.
“Ka’ha’! K-Ka’ha’.”
He blinks, looking up. Despite the hitch of his breath, Izuku’s face is giving him a whole lot of nothing. That, at least, is a familiar frustration. When he turns his attention back to his hands, he finds his gloved thumbs slightly damp, curled under Izuku’s jaw. That’s oil.
“Shit.” He pulls his hands back, searching for a towel or something. Nothing. Of course. “This place is so fuckin’ shoddy,” he mutters darkly, wiping his thumbs on his pants.
How the hell had he not noticed he was pressing into his cranial scent glands? Stupid move. Once again, a win for betas. Katsuki can’t detect anything from the nasty substance other than the sight and feel. Izuku probably reeks, right now.
He has to be more careful. And—
“Shit!” He scrambles for the full vials, untwisting them from the clasps. “Shit, shit…”
Izuku gurgles.
“Just a sec, fuck. There. Okay.” He lets out a breath, snapping the fresh vials in. “Damn, you are gonna take forever to milk. What the fuck.”
Plus a second set of teeth, which Glove Creep was acting like would be much more challenging to handle. Great. Well, the difficulty is no concern to Katsuki; he’s very confident in his ability to swap jars and rub Izuku’s throat while he’s in some stupid ass venom coma. This shit is like a vacation.
He places his fingers back on Izuku’s glands, rubbing in slow, firmer circles. Izuku jerks slightly under his hold, another faint growl starting and fading quickly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki says tonelessly. “Quit your bitchin’.”
Izuku shifts, growing more restless.
Katsuki lets go of one side to smack his shoulder. “Oi. Stay still. We’re almost done.”
“Hur’s…”
“Where?”
No response.
He rolls his eyes, pressing harder along the glands and making sweeping motions up the undersides of his jaw, trying to promote flow. “Just a little more, nerd. You got this.”
“…Ka’ha’.”
“Izuku.”
“Ka’ha’.”
“Izuku.”
He curls his knuckles, digging them into Izuku’s throat.
A strangled groan is the only response he gets. He watches the vials. Fat droplets of venom fall from Izuku’s fangs into the clear, oily mix. They’re larger, but the flow is definitely slower.
“You’re doing a good job,” he murmurs. “Just a bit more. Almost there, nerd.”
Izuku whimpers.
Seriously, how the fuck does he let this build up for a month?
Well, Katsuki reasons with himself, what other options are there? Clearly he has trouble doing it himself, considering that he goes into a weird-ass trance state whenever he’s releasing venom.
He could have asked me. I’d have helped.
He swallows thickly, glancing at Izuku’s hazy expression. His face is flushed, glassy eyes lidded, body relaxed and swaying slightly.
It’s just weird, right? Because he has seen Izuku with his fangs out, ready to bite with full force, he has not looked like this. He remembers the confused jumble of Izuku’s wide mouth when he felt through the air, shot full of holes, the wide stretch of his jaw, thick strands of venom and drool flying. During the fight with Shigaraki, Izuku had definitely used his teeth; Katsuki has seen the footage. Apparently he bit the shit out of Overhaul. Hell, when they’d fought of Ground Beta, Katsuki remembers Izuku’s bared teeth, the wet glimmer at the tips, the rumble of his snarl.
I’d have helped if he just asked.
“Shut up,” he hisses to himself. “Shut— Shut up. Fuck.”
He digs his fingers into Izuku’s glands, watching drops of venom fall sluggishly. It’s finally at the rate that says he’s just about drained. Don’t want to drain him entirely—dry glands can be very painful, apparently.
Izuku chirps as Katsuki forces his primary fangs out of the clasps. He licks at the roof of his mouth, looking at him with dopey eyes. “Kacchan?”
“Gotta do your other teeth.”
“Ah.” He nuzzles against Katsuki’s shoulder as he swaps all the vials around, capping and labeling them. Pressed to close, Izuku reeks horribly of musk, acrid and earthy.
“You smell like a damn locker room,” Katsuki mutters.
“Hhha.”
“How the fuck do I position these?” He tries to set the vials closer, but the glass keeps clinking. Ugh. Fuck it. “Okay, whatever. Get in position and I’ll see if—”
He freezes.
Izuku pants against his shoulder, rubbing himself against his hip in small circles. The hard shape of his cock is unmistakable.
“Izuku,” he says slowly.
“Kacchan,” he breathes back, voice faraway.
Right. Envenomation trance or…whatever the fuck.
Oh. Oh holy shit, she didn’t want to show this off because Izuku gets horny as shit when he’s milked. That’s what she meant when…
“Hurts,” Izuku murmurs. “Mm. Kacchan. Hurts.”
Katsuki swallows down the encroaching horror of this situation; he cannot afford to be stun-locked by this deeply unfortunate course of events. Milking alphas is over 7000 yen for the hour, plus bonuses for extra yield. Yes, the whole reason why he’s doing this is humping him right now and breathing down his neck. Yes, this could irrevocably render their tenuous friendship awkward for eternity. Yes, the thought of Izuku getting like this for someone else makes him want to punch a hole in a wall and then blow up the wall and everyone in this building.
Just. Get through it.
He grabs Izuku around the nape of his neck and pushing him down to the extraction site. Izuku makes a series of weird chirps and yips that sound barely human. His hips don’t stop fucking the air.
Katsuki squeezes. Hard.
Once the auxiliary fangs sink into the mesh, Izuku shudders and goes boneless again, a soft growl drifting from his throat.
Katsuki sighs, reaching up to pet through his hair. “Damn,” he says. “Fuck. Shit.”
Izuku blinks up at him with uncomprehending, dark eyes.
“Come on. Just spit out all that stupid-ass venom so we can get out of here.”
“Ngh?”
Katsuki rubs his face on the inside of his elbow, grimacing.
When he checks the vials, nothing’s coming out.
The fuck? Izuku said he didn’t do dry bites.
He’ll need additional stimulation.
Katsuki straightens, looking around the room. She probably just meant another squeeze of his neck, but when Katsuki does that, Izuku just makes a garbled noise. But the only other stuff in the room what he saw when he entered; there’s the collection of vials, the extractor meshes, and that canister with a squishy nozzle, labeled along the side with ‘Add. Stim.’
Holy shit. No. Shit, no.
He looks between the… Look, there’s no other way to describe it, now that he's actually gotten a good look. It’s a cock milker. It’s a fucking. Cock. Milker.
He looks between the cock milker and Izuku, slumped over the venom extractors. “Are you fucking kidding me.”
Additional stimulation. A hysterical laugh threatens to force its way out of his throat, but he swallows it back down. Now is not the time.
He could call it off and have Glove Creep do this part. The thought of her smug, jolly face as she casually strokes Izuku off makes his palms sweat at just the thought. No. Fuck no. No way.
No. The only way is through.
He kneels, taking a few steeling breaths before he unzips Izuku’s stupid-ass cargo shorts.
The head of his cock slaps out, nearly stabbing him in the jaw. Katsuki yelps, falling on his ass. “Deku, what the fuck?” he snaps.
Izuku lets out a weak gurgle, otherwise unresponsive.
Getting back on his knees, he finds that Izuku was rocking a boxer situation for this event. Great. Fucking asshole. Just great. Once he’s done inspecting the flap of his incredibly ugly patterned boxers, he’s confronted with the scope of the situation.
The ‘situation’ being Izuku’s coke can of a dick.
Calling it a coke can is selling it short by about six centimeters. The thing is massive. “How the fuck are you not tipping over right now?” Katsuki hisses. It reeks, too. The musk is overpowering, heavy and masculine.
Is the cock milker even going to fit? It’s got to, right? Clearly they were anticipating this shit. Fuck.
Katsuki braces himself before grabbing Izuku’s shorts and pulling them down to his indoor shoes. Then comes getting him out of his boxers, which he’s uncertain how to accomplish without touching his dick.
You’re doing this for 7000 yen. You’re doing this for your and Izuku’s future.
He takes a steadying breath before reaching out and gripping it. Even through his latex gloves, the skin feels silky and unnervingly hot. Izuku jerks in his hold, which is fair. Katsuki is literally handling his dick right now as he forces him back through the slit of his boxers so he can shove them down his legs.
Which reveals the, frankly, terrifying size of his knot.
“Shit,” Katsuki breathes. It’s nestled in a thick thatch of dark pubic hair and it isn’t even halfway to inflated but the size is obvious. That is a knot that would put somebody in the damn hospital.
He’s touching it before he can process his own body’s motion.
Izuku lets out a warbly growl, canting into Katsuki’s fist. Fuck, it really is huge. Squishy under his fingers, pulse throbbing.
His fat balls dangle, swaying with each twitch of his body. Katsuki’s seen plenty of body types over the years, including some very low-hanging nuts on a few guys, but these are fucking obscene. “What the hell, Izuku?”
Izuku had always been very shy in locker rooms and onsen, favoring a modesty towel until the last moment. He must have known that his equipment wasn’t exactly standard, then.
The smell is very strong, musky with sweat and precum. Human, undoubtedly, but also so animal. Katsuki isn’t sure how to define it; he keeps taking deep breaths and finds his words are insufficient.
Izuku’s pubes are scratchy against his nose. He takes another deep breath, shivering. Fuck, it smells so bad but in the best way. That makes no damn sense. The skin is so hot, pulse thrumming under his face. Izuku doesn’t push him away or pull him closer. Of course he doesn’t. He’s just a dumb little fuck animal that’ll let Katsuki do whatever he wants to him.
He jerks back, grimacing. “What the fuck?” he hisses. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
He’d just shoved his face into Izuku’s junk. Thought about him as a… Genuinely, what the fuck?
It’s true, though. Izuku has always let Katsuki do whatever he wants to him.
The thought feels simultaneously hot and cold in the pit of his body. It has always been an unspoken truth between them, this willingness they hold for the other. Well. One has always been more obviously on display than the other.
Katsuki presses his forehead against Izuku’s hip, taking a few deep breaths to feel marginally less like a psychopath. He does not gain any ground.
“Just get through it,” he says. “Just. Do what you gotta do. Freak out about it later. Fuck.”
He pushes away, turning to face the cock milker. The… The fucking. Goddamn. Cock milker. And he grabs the fucking Goddamn onahole attached to the front of it, scowling.
It’s already wet with lube, slightly tacky along the opening.
Katsuki swallows thickly, glancing back at Izuku’s bobbing hazard of a cock. “If you don’t want me to do this,” he says, “you gotta say something.”
Izuku doesn’t respond.
Right. Naturally.
He grabs Izuku’s cock, ignoring his groan with gritted teeth, and holds it steady as he slides the squishy nozzle over it. The fit is definitely on the tighter side, though Izuku’s hips help him get it snug when they reflexively fuck forward.
Leaning forward, he fumbles for the switch along the edge of the canister. It clicks under his thumb.
Izuku keens, hips jerking in the grip of the milker. “Ah—! Ah—!”
The hiss of venom trickles above Katsuki’s head. Shit.
He pops to his feet, reaching over to wrap a hand around the nape of Izuku’s neck, squeezing gently. With a whine, Izuku slumps again.
“Ka’ha’,” he breathes, blinking fat tears from his eyes. They wet the swell of his cheeks. Katsuki swipes them away before they can hit his lips. “‘A…Ka’ha’.”
“If you don’t kill me for this, you’re an idiot,” is all he can reply with, throat tight. His stomach is hot and oily, every sensitive part of his body aching. He is, as always, despicable. Deku makes him despicable.
“Ka’ha’,” Izuku sighs, hips giving little lurches every few seconds.
With the wet suck of the cock milker and Izuku’s whimpers, his glossy eyes tracking Katsuki, it’s hard to deny that this whole situation is erotic. It’s been erotic.
He swallows thickly, reaching down to grind the heel of his palm over his half-hard cock. No. Fuck no. Not now. This is for 7000 yen and his dream of the future.
This sucks. It’s shit. It’s especially awful because it doesn’t feel awful. Izuku, under him. Izuku, cock hard and fangs extended, reeking of alpha. It feels hot and right and like he’s done nothing to earn it.
Izuku shudders, so pliant.
Katsuki’s heart aches, heavy in his chest. “This okay?” he asks, voice soft. “Feel okay, nerd?”
“Guh.”
He pets through his hair. “You really gotta do this every month?”
No response. Unsurprising.
The cock milker continues to thunk, suctioned tight against his knot. A glance reveals the flushed stretch of it, expanded to already twice the size it held when Katsuki had touched it.
Izuku really is a walking sexual hazard. Katsuki doubts he’s ever been with anybody, considering the equipment he’s sporting. Everybody can see the massive fangs from far off and Katsuki figures many wouldn’t want those snapping so close to their necks. Though he has to wonder if anyone has gotten past that. If anybody’s seen the needle-like teeth and dipped out at that point, or the baseball bat of a dick he’s carrying around and had to nope the fuck out.
Yeah. He’d have to wear a muzzle when he fucks. No question. Especially with the whole “no dry bite” deal.
There’s something kind of beautiful about how ungainly and strange Izuku’s alphan traits are, though. Not that Katsuki’d ever say that, but he can admit it privately, at least. Little nerd with killer teeth and a massive cock.
Izuku’s so loose and strung out on his own extraction, gurgling occasionally as everything’s getting drained out. It’s alluring, though it’d be better outside of a concrete block. Better in a bed, Izuku growling as he chews through a pillow, fucking against the thoroughly stretched and lubed up hole of Katsuki’s as—
He’s knotting. The machine clicks, adjusting as Izuku stiffens slightly before falling boneless again, groaning as he cums.
Katsuki continues to pet through his hair. The musk is overpowering, thick and heady. He’s going to smell like this dork for days. “Good boy,” he murmurs, which feels as weird to say as anything else that’s happened today. But it’s true. He is.
Izuku trembles. “Ka’ha’…”
“Yeah, nerd. I’m right here.” He reaches around, slinging a thumb into his mouth and pressing on the bulbs to his auxiliaries. They’re tender and squishy through the inflamed skin of his gums.
Izuku whines, high and sweet. Venom dribbles out faster with each swipe of Katsuki’s thumb.
What would it be like to do this at home? In the bathroom, maybe, Izuku slumped against him as he massages the roof of his mouth with no latex barrier, watching venom and drool drip into the bowl of the sink. Bare skin pressed together, wrapping his hand around the thick length of Izuku’s bobbing cock.
“Ka’ha’… Ka’ha’…”
“I’m here,” he murmurs again, rubbing gently. “Just a bit more, come on.”
“Hhhaaa…”
“I know,” he says, pressing along his lymph glands with his free hand. “Got a lot in you. It’s almost out, c’mon.”
Izuku’s pulse thuds under his fingers. His mouth is wet and warm, shielded from his touch by thin gloves. He fidgets every so often. Judging by the sound of the machine, he’s probably ejaculating again.
“Sh,” he murmurs against the side of his temple, the skin tacky and hot under his lips. “Almost done. Almost there, nerd. You got this.”
The bulbs under his thumb feel a bit smaller, but they’re incredibly hot; they feel feverish. It has to hurt. Katsuki can’t imagine a scenario where something like this doesn’t hurt.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
Izuku’s in no position to downplay him or shove him away. He just snuffles and pants, tongue lapping against the side of Katsuki’s hand. “U-uh uh.”
“No?”
“Uh… Uh huh, uh uh…”
“Yes, no?” He rolls his eyes. “Typical indecisive idiot.”
The cock milker makes a weird, probably concerning clicking noise. Izuku’s knot is very flushed and trapped in its plush grip. It pulses in time with his rapid heartbeat as the milker seems to tighten.
Izuku whines at the pressure, trying to pull back.
Katsuki holds firm. “Oi. Knock it off. You’re almost empty, come on. A little more. Gotta make sure it’s all out.”
His hips jerk against the pump. His knot is doing its job, though, keeping him lodged inside, where the milker keeps stimulating him. Another whine slips out, higher and longer.
Katsuki presses his forehead against Izuku’s shoulder, massaging his glands. “Just a bit more, Izuku. C’mon. You got this.”
“Ka’ha’.”
“Yeah. I’m here.”
“‘K-Ka’ha’.” His breath stutters. “Ka’ha’, wa’a…”
Katsuki keeps rubbing wider circles into his throat and jaw. “You’re almost there. I can feel it. Can you put out a little more?”
Izuku gives a feeble nod, sniffling. His hips press cant toward the pump, panting over the extraction mesh. His eyes are hazy and gorgeous, looking back at him. “‘Or Ka’ha’.” He blinks slowly, pupils blown. “Any’ing ‘or Ka’ha’…”
Katsuki’s fingers slip out of his mouth, the glove soaked with drool. “Good boy,” he murmurs, the smell of Izuku’s skin and hair coating the back of his tongue. “Good boy, Izuku. Almost there. Good job. You got this.”
Izuku whimpers. “‘Or Ka’ha’…”
He is. He’s so good; Izuku has always been good. So good that it’s sickening. Katsuki’s always wanted to take some part of that goodness into himself, to encompass it and possibly digest it until it became part of him, too.
This is a very sentimental way of saying that he wants to stuff Izuku’s monster cock in his ass.
He nuzzles his nose into Izuku’s hair, his breath short. “Good,” he repeats. Because Izuku is good. So good. Such a good boy, cumming his brains out. “Such a good boy for me, right now, Izuku. We’re almost done.” Glove Creep is fucking stupid; this is not an unevolved alpha. This is the prime example of an ideal alpha. A giver, through and through. The fiercest of protectors, the most pliable of donors. Sweet and docile and deadly under Katsuki’s hands, exactly as he should be.
“Ka’ha’,” Izuku keens.
“Good boy,” he says again. He reaches down, tugging at the cock milker. It has some give, so he slides it off, watching Izuku’s deeply flushed cock bounce. His deflating knot is incredibly red. Fuck, that looks uncomfortable. Like it hit the wrong side of too much at some point.
Katsuki bends, turning off the machine. Izuku’s cock droops miserably beside him, cowed into submission. It reeks. Reeks of cum and lube and Izuku, that bitter, heady smell of his musk.
He finds himself reaching down to fondle Izuku’s swinging ballsack before common sense can tell him to not touch his childhood friend’s junk any more than he has to.
Katsuki’s never been good at staying away from Izuku, though, and he’s certainly never been good at doing what’s right for their relationship. Clearly.
Izuku lets out a high-pitched yip at first contact, hips giving a confused jolt.
“I’m just checking on you,” Katsuki says, face hot. “Making sure there’s no lasting damage or any shit like that.”
Izuku lets out an indistinct warble as Katsuki’s hand slides up and over his softening cock, cupping the head. It’s hot against his palm. He has to take a couple deep breaths to keep himself holding on to the thread of sanity that’s keeping him from getting down on his knees and sucking that bad decision in his mouth to lick off the residue.
…Maybe he’s not as unaffected by alpha pheromones as he thought.
(No. He would have wanted to that no matter what their dynamics are. That’s the miserable truth. The miserable, sickening…)
He takes a sharp step away and tears off the gloves, slapping them on the table.
Izuku blinks up at him, face flushed and eyes still glassy. “Kacchan…?”
“Yeah,” he says shortly. “’S over now.”
“Mm?”
“You’re drained, nerd. It’s done.”
Izuku just watches him, pupils dark and impossibly deep.
“What?” Katsuki snaps. Hates the abrasive tone of his own voice, hates that stupid fucking look Izuku’s giving him even more.
“Good? I…did good?”
Katsuki stiffens.
Izuku sniffles, swaying on his feet. “‘M… ‘M Kacchan’s good boy?”
Something in him aches at the sound of Izuku’s voice. He squeezes the feeling with his fist in the hopes to make it smaller, less of a hassle. Still, he says, “‘Course you are.”
Izuku blinks owlishly, unfocused eyes glossy with unshed tears.
He reaches out, fingers carding through his hair. Internally, something screams. It screams and screams at him, trying to shake him awake. Izuku’s hair is soft, though, a bit frizzy from lack of care. He smells good. Well— Not good, but like him. Like Izuku. Izuku…
A little chirp escapes Izuku as he presses into Katsuki’s palm. Fat tears roll down his cheeks, though he doesn’t seem distressed. “Kacchan,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” he replies dumbly.
The thought of anyone else seeing Izuku like this makes him mad enough to kill.
“Mm. Kacchan.”
A glance down finds Izuku half-hard in his shorts. Katsuki regrets looking. Fuck, he really regrets looking. Fuck. Shit.
If they weren’t in this cement block, he’d take him in his hand again. Let him tuck his face against the crook of his neck while he jacked him off. Breathe him in, feel him tremble in his arms. Izuku.
“We gotta get ready to go, nerd,” he says softly, voice rough.
Izuku looks at him with his typical adoration, unmoored from reason. Animal and honest and so, so good.
Katsuki lets out a shaky breath, the hollow of his throat tight. “I’ve done nothing to deserve that dumbass look, idiot. Come on.”
He gets Izuku seated on the stool, shooting a sour look at the tent in his shorts. It better go down before Izuku’s back online or this is going to be obnoxiously awkward.
Well. More than it has been.
He busies himself with cleaning up the space, including wiping up the fucking pre-cum that Izuku dripped on the floor. Fucker.
“Kacchan?” he hears, groggy.
He grunts, lining up the vials and checking the labels.
“Are we done? Sorry, I just… Ah, I get a little spacey whenever I get milked. I hope I didn’t say anything silly!”
“You couldn’t talk, idiot,” he replies. “Your mouth was stuck in mesh.”
“Oh! R-right. Ha.”
He turns. Izuku is sitting on the stool, nervous fingers fiddling with the edges of his shorts. His eyes are still pretty glassy, pupils blown. He is definitely still half-hard. “How’re you feeling?”
“U-um… Fine! Fine, yeah. Yup. Totally fine. Thanks, Kacchan.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrow.
Izuku gives him a crooked smile that doesn’t reach his hazy eyes. “M-my mouth feels a little…weird. Um. Not in a bad way! Or anything. Just…a bit weird, haha.”
“What do you mean, ‘weird’? Like it hurts?”
“No! Well.” He swallows, smile falling. His brow knits, hands smoothing over his thighs over and over. “It’s a little tingly and swollen? I never got that way with, um. With the other times I’ve done this.” He starts. “N-not to say that Kacchan did a bad job! Kacchan did an excellent job, of course. I feel very drained. Sinuses are all clear again. Thank you. I just don’t have much of a filter like this, I guess? Haha, um, yeah, guess I’m still a little venom drunk or whatever it is—”
“Lemme see.”
Izuku stiffens. “Huh?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “I was literally just all up in your mouth. Lemme check out your venom bulbs.”
He blinks rapidly. “O-oh. Um. Okay, Kacchan.”
“Izuku. Open your mouth.”
He lowers his jaw, tilting his head up.
Katsuki lightly inspects the roof of his mouth, prodding at the bulbs hidden under his gums. Izuku’s spit coats the pads of his bare fingers, the squishy give of his gums warm but not burning like they were before. “Looks fi—”
Venom squirts onto his face.
Izuku’s breath hitches, face hot under Katsuki’s other hand. “Oh ‘y ‘osh, Ka’han, I’ ‘o ‘orry!”
Katsuki recoils, wiping at his face with a grimace. “It’s whatever. I’m the one who stuck my fingers in your mouth. Shit.”
“I’m so sorry!” Izuku repeats shrilly, clapping his hands to his cheeks. “That’s not— I’m supposed to be drained! I mean! Kacchan did a good job, I think, I feel drained anyways, even if I don’t really remember much, so I didn’t mean to imply that Kacchan did a bad job—”
“Izuku,” he snaps. “Chill.”
“K-Kacchan’s just good at manual stimulation,” Izuku whispers, covering his mouth.
Katsuki stares at him, silently confirming to himself that yeah. Yeah, the nerd actually said that.
Izuku squeezes his eyes shut, face flushed.
Some things never change, do they?
He absently rubs the venom between his fingers. It’s watery. Not tacky at all.
The door clicks open. Glove Creep beams at them. “All good?”
“Yeah!” Izuku says loudly, voice cracking.
Katsuki grimaces. “Yeah, it was fine. We done?”
She whistles, looking at the vials stacked along the table. When she gets to the jug of alpha cum, she shoots Katsuki a small, knowing smile. “A very impressive haul.”
“Of course. I aced that shit.”
Izuku smiles, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there is a liter of his cum sitting right next to him. “Kacchan’s the best!”
She pats his cheek before squishing it between her thumb and forefinger. Izuku stiffens, but doesn’t pull away. “Aw, you have a nickname for him? That’s cute.”
Izuku flushes, biting his lip. His right fang glistens with a bead of venom.
Katsuki forces his eyes away. They unfortunately land on the prominent bulge still settled in his stupid cargo shorts.
Poor bastard, he thinks. This is not the first time he’s thought this regarding Izuku. It will surely not be the last. Izuku has always been fumbling and awkward and a bit of a major fucking loser.
“And it seems you were very professional,” Glove Creep says to Katsuki.
He grunts, stuffing his fists in his pockets. “‘Course I was. This was easy shit.”
“As to be expected from someone who aced the certification course.”
Fuck, he wants to stuff his face right in the middle of those ugly ass shorts. He wants to swallow as much of Izuku’s cock as he can and listen to him squeal and whine as he cums down his throat.
Glove Creep waves her hand in front of her face. “Phew! This room sure will need to be aired out. I guess it can’t be helped, though, with such a successful extraction.”
Izuku gets redder, lips a thin line. His stupid fucking fangs continue to poke out. It’s cute. He’s cute. Fucking shit damn ass. Fuck.
“’S no problem for me,” Katsuki lies. “I can’t even smell any of it.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh! You’re a true neutral beta?”
“Yup.”
“Wow… No wonder you managed to keep your cool so excellently.”
“Kacchan is amazing,” Izuku says weakly.
Glove Creep forces open the window in the corner with a grunt.
“Seriously, nerd,” Katsuki says lowly, stepping closer. “Wasn’t a problem at all. Don’t think about it.” He does not look at his boner. Absolutely does not do that.
“If you say so, Kacchan…”
“Really. You just stood there and I dicked around on my phone. Nothing happened. Was boring as shit.”
Izuku’s shoulders lower, his spine slumping into his standard terrible posture. “Okay… That’s, um. That’s good, I guess, right? Easiest money you’ve ever made, haha…”
“Easiest money I’ve ever made and I knocked all that shit out of your system so you better appreciate your clean airways, nerd.”
Izuku smiles, wide and genuine, fangs glinting in the light. “Of course, Kacchan! I feel so much better now. It’s always such a relief to get cleared up.”
“Sure,” he says dumbly. Fuck that smile. Seriously.
“A-and, um.” He flushes, looking up at him with those obnoxious doe eyes. “It was really nice to do it with you. I-I think, anyways. So, um. Thank you.”
Katsuki swallows, throat dry.
“Alpha venom is a component in a lot of useful medications, so I’m glad I can use my designation to help people. And it was a lot more comfortable with you. I’m sure you’ll get paid a bunch, since you were so good at getting it all out!”
“Hopefully he’ll be back!” Glove Creep says, marking up her clipboard. “Maybe he’ll be able to help you again next time, Alpha-kun.”
Katsuki knows he did it for the money, but knowing he’ll be receiving a paycheck for this leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. Still, Izuku looks up at him with a sweet smile, pupils still slightly blown out. He fidgets, trying to bunch up his shorts to hide his stubborn erection.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says hoarsely, licking his lips. “I’ll be back.”