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Objectively, Katsuki knew it was unrealistic to expect anyone to remain the same after a war. Hell, if anything, he was the one who had changed the most. From the Sludge Villain incident to dying, there was no denying the past year had made quite a number on him. So really, he knew better than most that a lot of things were bound to change after a whole war.
Still, nothing quite prepared him for how different Izuku would be.
Much like Katsuki, the change didn’t happen overnight. He first noticed it all the way back when Izuku returned to UA. The difference was subtle, masked by the cloud of gloom that hung above his head, but there were a few signs here and there that Katsuki had spotted.
A twitch in his jaw when someone took too long to answer.
A growl when some of their preparations didn’t go as planned.
A calm, steady, cold voice that brooked no room for argument.
It was all fleeting, rare occurrences that anyone but Katsuki probably missed. Back then, he didn’t think much of it. Izuku had had a rough couple of months, and they were gearing up for a goddamn war. Katsuki would have been concerned if he managed to keep his sunshine demeanor even then.
And so, he never brought it up, whether to Izuku or anyone else. But he tried to be considerate, taming down his own temper to not stress him out even more. If Izuku noticed, he didn’t say anything, but the tension in his shoulders did seem to loosen a bit whenever Katsuki restrained himself to a huff and a shrug.
Then the war happened, the war ended, and everything was a mess for a little while. The countless funerals, the rebuilding effort, the long road to recovery – physical and otherwise. They all tried to cope as much as they could, and nobody took a couple of biting words to heart.
Izuku, most of all, was given full permission to go wild – rightfully so. He had been the one with the most important role, the one meant to put an end to this, the one who had to bloody his hands to make that happen, the one whose quirk was one big question mark nowadays–
All in all, if he suddenly started blowing things up, nobody would hold it against him.
But for a while, he hadn’t. For a while, Izuku reverted back to his sweetheart self, all big smiles and placating, empty words. Katsuki could see right through his bullshit, though, like most other people. Izuku must have known it, because soon enough, he gave up, allowing his exhaustion to peek through.
Katsuki expected that bone-deep tiredness to last, though he knew that soon enough, Izuku would build one of his shitty walls to hide behind, always unwilling to worry anyone.
What he didn’t expect was for Izuku to do a one-eighty.
It happened progressively.
At first, it was all about him being quieter. He was still a mumbling nerd, mind you, but the words he consciously chose to speak were few. His replies became shorter, more concise. His mind seemed to wander a lot less. There was this air of seriousness that clung to him, one the Pros around them praised over and over again during the war preparations.
So mature for his age, Katsuki had heard.
He hated it.
Izuku wasn’t mature. He was a fucking teenager – like all of them – forced to take responsibility for a problem that should have never been his. An archnemesis shoved into his hands like that cursed power was. It wasn’t maturity, it was necessity. It was ‘either I do this right or my loved ones, my country, my world is doomed’.
So yes, Izuku was quieter, more short-tempered, still exhibiting that one-track-mindedness that made Katsuki feel a lot of things – concern, mostly, but also that weird tightening in his guts. Whatever the hell that was.
But again, despite the change being much more noticeable, nobody else seemed to think much of it. And so, once again, Katsuki let it go.
That is until it became a problem.
1.
In Izuku’s defense, Katsuki had been trying to provoke him.
He had just been cleared to go back to training that day, but everyone was still treating him like a piece of glass. They all clearly held back when pitted against him, always panicking and running to him at the slightest wince.
It pissed him off, even more so when the anger kept making his heart monitor go off. Training had been cut short, and Katsuki remained behind, agitated, and in desperate need of an outlet.
He thought he would find it in Izuku, who had also been quite miffed with how little work they actually got done. He stayed behind, stretching, and Katsuki jumped on the opportunity.
“Oi, nerd.” His tone was grating. Izuku turned around slowly, one eyebrow raised. Katsuki didn’t take it as the warning it was. “The fuck are you doing, training for ballet? You look ridiculous.”
Izuku didn’t reply right away, staring at him as Katsuki approached with a judgmental scowl. His hands were shoved in his pockets, shoulders hiked up and tension lining his body. A ticking time bomb. Katsuki trusted Izuku to make it explode in a controlled manner.
“Those are regular stretches, Kacchan. I have seen you do the same ones.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Yeah, but I don’t look so stupid when I do them. Why the fuck is your leg up that high? You stretching it or trying to dislodge it?”
He continued to pick apart every single one of Izuku’s moves, disregarding how slow and measured Izuku’s movements and breathing got. All carefully controlled, as if he was restraining himself. As if he was trying hard not to, what, get mad?
Ridiculous. That was Izuku. The most he usually did was wince and whine ‘Kacchan, that’s mean,’ before challenging him to a spar to prove that he wasn’t that bad. That’s how it went between them. That’s what Katsuki came looking for.
That’s not what Izuku gave him.
“Quit it, Kacchan.”
The harsh voice resonated in the otherwise empty gym, coupled with a sharp look that made Katsuki go very still. His ears rang for a little; not from the volume, but from his shock.
He couldn’t have heard that right. That voice, all sharp angles and exasperation, couldn’t be Izuku’s.
Katsuki blinked once, twice. Izuku continued to glare. Glare.
Abruptly coming back to reality, Katsuki took a step back, face twisting. In anger, shock, or something else, he couldn’t tell. He did feel some discomfort in his lower stomach, all of a sudden. “What the fuck do you—”
“If you want a fight, use your words,” Izuku immediately cut him off, turning his back on Katsuki and not softening in the least. “I’m not in the mood for you to try and piss me off just because you’re too embarrassed to say what you want. You know better.”
Katsuki stared and stared as Izuku gathered his things and looked fully ready to just leave.
Then they both jumped five feet into the air when his heart monitor went off.
The moment broke, just like Izuku’s anger. He whipped around, eyes zeroing in on Katsuki’s wrist. Brows furrowed, he immediately rushed to him.
“Kacchan? What is it? Why is your heartbeat so high? You weren’t even moving—”
But Katsuki wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even trying to turn off the alarm, letting Izuku do it.
Because– what the fuck was that?
He had pissed Izuku off before. He knew he had. As good as the nerd was at hiding his emotions, Katsuki knew the bastard. He had small tells here and there. His mouth twisting up, his eyes beginning to roll but not quite, his fists clenching for just a second. All minute things that barely lasted, just like Izuku’s anger. He always waved it off, because it was Katsuki. He was used to Katsuki, he knew Katsuki.
And yet, in this moment, there was none of his usual indulgence. He knew what Katsuki was trying to do, but rather than just giving it to him, he called him out. Forced him to either use his words or be left to his own devices.
There was a part of Katsuki that didn’t take well to it. He could feel the anger curling in his chest, trying desperately to hide the hurt beneath. Because why was Izuku suddenly shutting him down? What was with the cold words and even colder look? What did Katsuki do to lose the privilege of Izuku’s leniency?
However, that wounded voice wasn’t the loudest in Katsuki’s mind. Not when deep down, there was an unshakable belief in him that no matter what he did, Izuku would never shut him out completely. He had always known that, even during those long years where he refused to so much as entertain the idea.
No, the part that made him freeze in place, completely deaf to Izuku’s words, was that feeling. That heat that started in the pit of his stomach and spread lazily through his body, licking up his spine, warming his skin. Or well, heat was too kind of a word for what it felt like.
It was closer to a wildfire, lighting up every single one Katsuki’s nerve endings.
He nearly jerked away when Izuku circled a strong hand around Katsuki’s wrist, the coolness of his skin coupled with the coarseness of his scars feeling heavenly on his suddenly sensitive skin. It made the fire burn brighter, flushing his skin.
He looked down at how Izuku’s hand dwarfed his own. In truth, all of Izuku seemed to dwarf Katsuki despite the height difference between them. Everything about Izuku was just– big. Muscles everywhere, thick arms that bulged at the slightest movement, defined abs that were as hard as rocks, strong legs that could withstand a ridiculous amount of weightlifting– Izuku had a build that made every gym rat salivate and every girl fawn.
Katsuki wasn’t doing bad in that department either, but as an airborne fighter, his body didn’t need to be as massive. Izuku didn’t have that sort of restriction, and it showed.
Despite that, until now, Katsuki never found Izuku to be as… imposing as he was right now. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t just physical.
As he stared at Izuku as if it was the first time he was seeing him, he noticed it.
There was this air about him that hadn’t been there before. A sort of confidence and authority that made him take even more space than he already did. Katsuki didn’t know how to explain it. Something in the way Izuku stood that much straighter. He wasn’t as careful to make himself small and unobtrusive as before, no longer afraid to say what he thought and do what he wanted. Like, tell Katsuki to use his words.
Like a good boy.
The thought sprung in his mind, sudden and unexpected, but so fitting. Katsuki imagined Izuku saying those words. His mind pitched the voice down, making it velvety, with that undercurrent of authority he had just gotten a taste of.
The fire turned into an inferno.
“Kacchan? Kacchan, what is wrong, you are all red! Answer me.”
Answer me, he said– no, demanded. That was a demand. His tone had none of the whining quality Katsuki had grown used to from Izuku. No, it was firm, expectant. As if there wasn’t a world where he wouldn’t be obeyed.
His heart monitor went off again.
In the end, Katsuki managed to find his words right before Izuku called Recovery Girl. He stammered something about his quirk acting up and the doctor having warned him about it before making his escape, pretexting needing to rest.
As soon as he slammed the door of his room, Katsuki fell back against it and slid down to the floor, nearly panting.
The heat was still very much there, but Katsuki’s mind was that much clearer now that he was away from Izuku.
He refused to think about the implications.
2.
Sure, maybe Katsuki was looking for trouble, but he had to make sure he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe last time had been a one-time thing – whether it be Izuku’s reaction or Katsuki’s reaction. Maybe his news meds’ side effects were that bad.
In any case, Katsuki wanted another glimpse at this Izuku, test what would bring him out.
He wouldn’t let his body betray him again, though. Katsuki was fully ready to will away any blush, douse any sort of heat rising in him. Fiddling with his heart monitor, he even turned off the alarm – praying to God Izuku wouldn’t notice because that would piss him off even under normal circumstances.
As soon as that was done, Katsuki nodded to himself. He had the full thing under control.
Or at least, he thought he did.
(He didn’t.)
The plan was simple – yes, he made a whole plan for this. He knew the little things that tended to annoy Izuku through careful observation of the nerd.
The one thing that would make him lose his composure within a few seconds was being repeatedly interrupted. It was one thing to have someone disrupt his endless mumbling, but a whole other to be constantly cut off when he spoke.
Back in middle school, when he never let Izuku finish one sentence, Katsuki took the way he shrunk in on himself and tightened his fists as a sign of weakness. It took him a long time to realize it was Izuku consciously stifling his annoyance. His younger self hadn’t liked the realization.
Shaking off the thought, Katsuki focused on his target.
Izuku had stayed behind for lunch, like he did most days. He had gotten tired very early in the year of the constant gawking and whispering from the other students.
Katsuki dropped in his chair, straddling it to face Izuku. The movement caught the nerd’s attention, who perked up when he met Katsuki’s gaze.
“Hello, Kacchan! Finished lunch already?”
Katsuki took a moment to bask in the warmth of Izuku’s smile, almost feeling bad about what he was about to do.
It had taken a few weeks before Katsuki got a bright smile and an excited ‘Kacchan!’ again. Izuku’s usual excitement had taken a long time to make a return, and while Katsuki didn’t blame him, he had secretly missed how happy his simple presence could make Izuku. Now that he had that again, he always took the time to enjoy it.
But he had come here with a mission.
Katsuki shrugged. “Not hungry.”
Izuku immediately frowned, focusing his entire attention on Katsuki. It made a shiver run up his spine.
“Kacchan, that’s no good, you need–”
“I ain’t gonna hear it from you, asshole, where is your lunch?”
This time, Katsuki definitely took note of the raised eyebrow, of the flash of irritation that came and went. Uh. Well, that took no effort at all. Izuku didn’t used to be that easy to rile up.
“I ate already, I brought a bento that–”
“Something you cooked? Careful, there’s a fifty percent chance of food poisoning. Sure you didn’t mix up soy sauce with dish soap?”
Anticipation curled in Katsuki’s chest like a cat as he pretended not to see Izuku close his eyes and take a deep breath. Fucker wasn’t even trying to hide it, but if Izuku thought that would be enough to get him to back off, he was severely underestimating how far Katsuki was ready to take this shit.
“I may not be as good as you but–”
Katsuki snorted, not even looking at Izuku anymore as he picked up the papers on his desk, the ones he had been scribbling on before Katsuki came in.
“That’s the understatement of the fucking century. Is that your math homework? Why is it halfway done, fuckstick, that shit is due in like two hours.”
There was a pause long enough that Katsuki inwardly gloated before he looked up. He did so just in time to catch the look on Izuku’s face.
It took all his willpower to not visibly gulp.
Izuku’s stare was quite literally flaying Katsuki alive, intense and sharp. His mouth was set in a firm line, fingers strumming on the table as he slowly leaned back in his chair. There was something dangerous in the movement, nearly predatory. One last warning to back off.
Katsuki took in the position, the way it made Izuku manspread just that much further under the table. He looked near regal like that, no trace of the slouching and tired boy Katsuki had barged on mere minutes before.
An image flashed in Katsuki’s mind. One with Izuku sitting exactly like that but Katsuki wasn’t in his chair anymore. No, he was on the floor, on his knees, right between–
“I asked you a question, nerd!” he said, much louder than necessary. Izuku didn’t so much as flinch, his eyes narrowing. Whether it was because of Katsuki’s outburst or something else, he didn’t care to know. “You’re gonna fail if you keep doing everything at the last minute. That shit was assigned over two weeks ago.”
There was a long pause before Izuku spoke. And when he did, all low and clearly strained, Katsuki’s mind went in a dangerous, dangerous direction. One where anger wasn’t what was straining Izuku’s voice, one where he talked lowly not out of control but because they couldn’t be heard, one where Katsuki wasn’t constrained by all these stupid layers of clothes that were making him so fucking hot, who the fuck turned up the heating–
“I started working on it two weeks ago but–”
And Katsuki knew he was pushing it. He had gotten all the answers he wanted already, he could end this now and avoid the disaster that was sure to follow if he pushed any further.
But there was something addicting about this Izuku. Something about having his heated gaze on him, his entire attention, his anger. He told himself just one more time couldn’t hurt.
He was wrong. Because as soon as Izuku stopped tapping his fingers on the table, he knew he was done for.
“It takes you two whole weeks to finish that? Even my idiots wrapped it up in a few days, and that’s saying a damn lot.”
Unlike last time, Izuku didn’t immediately snap.
He stared Katsuki down, let him run his mouth about the torture that the tutoring session with his friends had been. Even when Katsuki stopped talking, voice trailing off under the weight of Izuku’s stone-cold gaze, he stayed silent for a bit afterwards.
Then, in that same awfully low, awfully hot voice, “Are you done?”
It took all of Katsuki’s willpower to not go tongue-tied, despite the fire spreading in his body once again. He couldn’t be as obvious as he was last time. Not now that he knew damn well what type of reaction his body was having, if the way his pants suddenly felt ridiculously tight was anything to go by.
Crossing his arms, he huffed. “Fuck is up with the tone, asshole?”
Izuku glared at him, patience having run out. “You keep—”
Unfortunately for the both of them, Katsuki didn’t know when to quit it. “You know, if you were saying anything actually interesting, I wouldn't have—”
“Katsuki, you talk over me one more time, and I will make sure it’s the last.”
And oh. Oh.
What was it that he said earlier? He had come prepared? Yeah, screw that. Because the instant the words – sharp, annoyed, authoritative – left Izuku’s mouth, Katsuki’s body reacted. He marveled at the way his face became as warm as the sun when all his blood definitely headed south.
Katsuki was out of the room before he even properly thought about it, booking it for the closest bathroom. There was about half an hour left of lunch break, plenty of time to get himself together.
He slammed the door behind him, rushing to the faucets. He desperately needed to cool down. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and his palms were getting worryingly warm. Fucking hell. Katsuki hadn’t been so close to lose control of his quirk in years.
Splashing the ice cold water on his face helped fight down the blush, but the rest of his body was definitely not getting the memo. He glared down at the tent in his pants, his dick obviously straining against the fabric. Damn him for wanting to stick to dress code for once and abandoning his baggy pants.
What the fuck. What the fuck.
It wasn’t that Katsuki had never been turned on.
It was actually how he discovered he was gay all the way back in middle school. He had remained unfazed as boys around him drooled over Midnight’s debut, but felt all hot and bothered when he looked up compilations of All Might getting his costume ripped off him in fights. Having to face the man was quite awkward, at first.
But every time he had done anything to relieve the urge, it had been more about satisfying his body needs than out of actual attraction. His teenage fantasies had been filled with unattainable or faceless people that he had no real desire to actually do anything with in real life. As such, his arousal had always been something he could easily disregard, occasionally deal with in the privacy of his room.
There was nothing easy about what he was dealing with right now.
No matter how many inches of his skin he drowned in cold water, he still felt hot, wound tight. His erection just wasn’t letting up even a whole fifteen minutes later.
He tried everything, from exercising in the small space of the bathroom to get rid of the jitteriness, to thinking about the least sexy things he possibly could. He had plenty of unsexy thoughts, after all, that should be easy.
Hell, he even thought about his own death. He dealt with it a lot better than everyone else around him, but it didn’t mean that was the first thing that came to mind when he wanted to rub one out.
For a moment, he thought it would work. The phantom feeling of coldness creeping on him, numbing his body little by little was not only unpleasant, but also exactly what his overheating body needed.
However, as Katsuki was slowly discovering, his mind and body had decided to band against him. Because thinking about death brought back the memory of the video he had come upon a few weeks ago, a leaked one that had UA and a good part of society incensed.
Shame grabbed his throat and squeezed when the echoes of Izuku’s growls and muffled screams as Mirio tried to talk him down filled his mind.
There was nothing hot about Izuku’s grief, about the anger twisting his features and the power enveloping him as he turned to Shigaraki. There was nothing hot about how bestial Izuku looked as Shigaraki told him about his ‘present’.
There was nothing hot about learning from the rest of 2-A that the only time Izuku ever lost his cool like that was about Katsuki. Like he lost his cool earlier, talked to you like a misbehaving pet, expected you to listen–
A strangled scream resonated in the thankfully empty bathroom before Katsuki pushed off the faucets, and stomped his way into the stall the furthest away from the door.
Without any preamble, he undid his belt, shoved his pants down and took himself in hand.
Because his lust hadn’t made him a completely depraved human being, he shoved away any and all thoughts of the war. Instead, he focused on the image that had flashed in his mind earlier.
Izuku, sitting back on his chair with his legs spread. There was no more table between them, and Katsuki was on his knees, hands resting on Izuku’s strong thighs. Thighs he had grabbed just last week during a particularly heated sparring session. He could perfectly recall how firm they were, how the muscles didn’t yield even under Katsuki’s death grip.
His imaginary Izuku lifted his hand and threaded it in Katsuki’s hair. Just petting at first, scratching his scalp, gaze soft. But as pleasant as the thought was, Katsuki didn’t need soft right now. And so, all at once, imaginary Izuku tightened his grip and shoved Katsuki’s face right onto his crotch.
Let’s put that mouth to good use, shall we, Katsuki?
That low, demanding voice made his own name sound downright derogatory. A moan nearly spilled out of Katsuki’s mouth, the memory of Izuku switching from his usual Kacchan to Katsuki too much for his horny brain. He slapped a hand over his mouth at the last moment while quickening his movements. Pleasure was pooling in his lower stomach at an impressive speed, making his legs shake as precum made the slide easier. There was no way he was lasting.
He barely had time to picture Izuku slowly taking out his ridiculously big dick from his pants, hard gaze never leaving Katsuki as he demanded he open his mouth, before his mind went blank.
The force of his orgasm had him fall back against the door, a fist shoved down his mouth as he tried to muffle the high-pitched moans trying to spill out. He spilled all over his hand, barely avoiding getting any cum on his clothes.
For a long moment, he stayed like that. Eyes closed and hand wrapped around his softening cock as he panted. He couldn’t remember coming that hard from just his hand around his dick in a long time. If ever.
Then the post-nut clarity hit, and he groaned loudly as he hit the back of his head against the door.
He had just jerked off in a public bathroom over Izuku being snappy with him. And that was easily the best orgasm of his life.
Fuck. He was so screwed.
When he returned to the classroom, it was with one minute to spare and a ramrod straight back. He ignored his idiots asking him where he had been, or Izuku’s general existence as he went to his seat, each movement measured.
He almost thought he would get away with it until a soft voice whispered from behind, “Sorry about earlier, Kacchan, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s really annoying when you keep interrupting me, though, so let’s not do that anymore, yeah?”
Let’s not do that anymore, yeah?
Let’s put that mouth to good use, shall we?
“Kacchan? Your neck is all red, is your quirk acting up again?”
As Aizawa called for silence, Katsuki came to a conclusion.
He was not surviving this.
3.
This time, Katsuki hadn’t even done it on purpose. The memory of the bathroom was still fresh, he hadn’t been planning on embarrassing himself like that again any time soon.
But he was in a shit mood, alright? Their patrol had been shit from beginning to end, rain had been pouring in a near constant flow since last night, his chest was hurting like a bitch, and Mirko had been on his ass for stupid shit again.
There was also the completely irrelevant fact that his mind kept flashing back to the dream he had last night, full of scarred hands and a low voice – a continuation of his little bathroom daydream. Irrelevant but no less annoying, especially when his dick kept fucking reacting every time. It was as if it was punishing him for neglecting it this morning, when he woke up hard as a rock and panting.
All in all, he was seconds away from exploding as he stomped back into the empty agency, dripping wet and fighting back frustrated tears. Izuku was on his heels, thankfully quiet but Katsuki could sense his concerned gaze burning holes into his back. It was taking everything in him to not spin around and tell him what he could do with his fucking concern. Izuku’s attention was the last thing he needed right now.
By the time they reached the hallway that split into offices on the right and locker rooms on the left, Katsuki was determined to get this shit done as soon as possible to go home. He needed to sleep off his terrible day, and hopefully forget all about his embarrassing body needs. He started to veer off right, already thinking about how he could write his report in the shortest and most offensively polite way possible when Izuku piped up, “Wait, Kacchan, we should probably change first–”
“Fuck off,” Katsuki spit out, not even turning around.
Izuku didn’t respond, nor did he follow. Katsuki took it as a win. God knows what other offensive shit would have spilled from his mouth if Izuku insisted.
When he reached the office where Izuku’s and his desks were crammed up, he grabbed the hand towel he kept in his drawer, patted himself dry as much as possible, and got to work.
He heard Izuku join him some time later, but he didn’t lift his head, too focused on trying to say the robber he had to deal with was stupid as hell in a professional way. He failed. Nobody who read the details of the incident would disagree with him anyway.
Surprisingly, writing the report helped soothe some of his ire. There was something about the methodical way he had to organize information, going over everything that happened and putting into words what went well and what could be improved. By the time he put down his pen, the world was somehow less shitty.
He massaged out the crick in his neck and looked up.
Izuku was right across from him, also focused on his report. The nerd was still scratching away, probably adding a bunch of useless details. Mirko would beat his ass for failing to be concise yet again.
However, as Katsuki studied him some more, he realized there was a tension to Izuku. Something that twisted his mouth down and made his jaw tick, his grip ridiculously tight around his pen. He ignored his dick manifesting itself again, and frowned.
Strange. Izuku usually liked writing reports, pretty much for the same reasons as Katsuki.
“Oi, nerd.”
Izuku didn’t even look up as he said, “Yes, Kacchan?”
Too slowly. Too strained.
Way too close to how he had sounded back in the gym.
The thought came in unbridled, instinctive.
I’m in trouble.
Chasing off the ridiculous feeling, Katsuki cleared his throat and tried again, “There’s this noodle place down the street. The bunny hag keeps singing their praises.”
He didn’t say more, trusting Izuku to understand the implied invitation. Like hell Katsuki would be caught dead begging anyone for their company.
However, when Izuku opened his mouth after a long second, all that came out was, “That’s interesting.”
Katsuki waited. Surely he was debating it over and he would give Katsuki his answer soon. Yet, seconds passed by and he kept his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, still writing. Katsuki tapped his foot loudly, making his impatience unmistakable.
Izuku kept writing.
Fucking bastard. He wanted to make him say it, didn’t he?
Katsuki debated for a second just storming out. Who the hell did Izuku think he was, dismissing him like that? That’s interesting. Katsuki’s fists curled up, embarrassment-fueled anger burning in his chest.
In the end, he decided to be the mature one. “There was a fucking question in there, dipshit.”
This time, Izuku replied right away, “Weird. I didn’t hear a question mark. Or anything resembling a question, for that matter.”
And look, the report may have calmed him down some, but Katsuki was far from being in a mood where he could take this sort of obvious rage bait without blowing up a building.
His chair clattered to the ground as he got up and slammed his hands on the desk, leaning in. Izuku – that fucking asshole – didn’t so much as flinch, attention still on his stupid ass report. He was ignoring him. How fucking dare he?
“Okay, asshole, what the fuck is your problem? You looking for a fight? ‘Cause I’m gonna wipe the floor with your sorry ass if you keep pissing me off.”
And finally, finally, Izuku slowly put his pen down and looked up.
His eyes were ice blocks. Katsuki’s breath hitched.
“What is my problem?” he repeated, slowly, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t recall being the one in a pissy mood since this morning, and making it everyone’s problem.”
Katsuki bristled. “A pissy mood–”
“I understand waking up on the wrong side of the bed, especially considering the weather, but I won’t just stand there and accept you insulting me, Kacchan. I already told you that’s not how this works anymore.”
Katsuki threw his hands up, confusion just making him angrier. “How the fuck was I insulting you by asking you to come eat with me?!”
Izuku’s eyes sharpened and he leaned in, raising two fingers. “Two things. One, you didn’t ask me anything. You told me about that place and expected me to not only pick up on the invitation buried somewhere in there, but also accept it as your ‘I’m gonna stop being a jerk now’ sign. Two, you know that’s not what I was talking about.”
Katsuki felt awfully naked, having his intentions blasted out into the open like that. He hadn’t said it out loud for a damn reason. Shame and embarrassment curled up in his chest, making his heartbeat jump up and his heart monitor beep once – a warning. Still, even if he was quite literally boiling inside, he tried to figure out what exactly Izuku could be babbling on about but–
Wait.
Katsuki blinked, then couldn’t help his disbelieving laugh. “Are you fucking serious? You are mad because I told you to fuck off?”
Izuku’s finger twitched. “Yes, Kacchan, I’m mad because you told me to fuck off when all I did was–”
“Izuku, I have told you to fuck off a million times, how is this any–”
Izuku was on his feet before Katsuki realized, chair screeching as it slid across the floor. Katsuki startled, then let his mouth slam shut as he took in Izuku.
Gone was the icy demeanor. His eyes burned worse than a wildfire, promising hell if Katsuki pushed him even further. Katsuki swallowed, feeling pinned under the harsh stare.
Izuku spoke slowly, forced calm permeating his tone, “I told you last time to stop cutting me off, and I won’t repeat myself. You have five seconds to apologize.”
Katsuki stared at Izuku, the way he was mirroring Katsuki’s position, putting them on eye level, yet somehow managing to stare him down.
If Katsuki wasn’t so desperate for an outlet, maybe he would have considered it. Maybe he would have thought back on the way he had been a nightmare to be around today, and it was actually a miracle Izuku had held back that long. Maybe he would have forced his mouth shut, thought his actions over and mumbled out a half-assed apology.
Katsuki was not in a better mood, however. He was wound-tight, blood feeling like lava in his veins and his anger desperately looking for an outlet before it burned him alive.
He didn’t think it through as he slowly rounded the desks. Izuku watched him like a hawk but didn’t move, though the narrowing of his eyes was warning enough. Katsuki ignored it.
When he reached his side, he put one hand on the wooden surface and lowered himself until barely a few inches remained between their faces. Izuku’s eyes remained fixed on him, never once looking away. Gone was the boy who quivered as soon as Katsuki’s eyes landed on him. Standing here, Izuku was as immovable as a rock, standing proud and tall in the storm that was Katsuki’s anger.
Something stirred in Katsuki’s guts, but he was too preoccupied by the anger coursing his veins to care.
“And who the hell,” he started slowly, enunciating every word and injecting as much disdain in them as he could, “do you think you are to demand that of me, dickhead? You think you can just order me around? Think I will roll over on my back and do whatever the hell you want?”
Izuku didn’t back down. Hell, he leaned even closer, voice soft and lethal like poison.
“I think I can ‘demand’ that you apologize for being a fucking brat for nearly twenty four hours, Kacchan.”
Brat.
That fucking word made a different kind of heat rise through Katsuki that was extremely unwelcome right now.
Unfortunately, Katsuki had never been good at dealing with unwanted feelings.
Without thinking – first mistake – he let anger take over – second mistake. With one swoop of his arm, he sent everything resting on Izuku’s desk clattering to the ground – final mistake.
Breathing harshly, he lifted his arm, ready to grab Izuku’s collar. “You are fucking insane if you think–”
Katsuki didn’t get to finish his tirade. Suddenly, there was a tight grip on his arm and the world spun around him. One second, he was upright, ready to show Izuku who the hell he was trying to cower.
The next, he was slammed flat against the desk, hands pinned behind his back.
He barely had time to process his new horizontal position before heat lined his entire back, Izuku pressing in until his mouth sent hot puffs of air against Katsuki’s ear as he spoke.
“Believe it or not, Katsuki, you aren’t the only one who is in an awful mood. But unlike you, I have tried to keep a lid on my emotions and restrain myself from throwing a fit like a spoiled brat.”
The words were mocking, edging on condescending. Katsuki’s cheeks flushed in anger and humiliation, even more so when interest stirred in his guts at the tone. Fucking damnit, there was no way he was into that.
Unaware of his turmoil, Izuku leaned back slightly. He pressed his hand between Katsuki’s shoulder blades, keeping him firmly pressed against the desk.
“I’m not letting you go until you apologize,” Izuku said, voice brooking no room for argument. “Your little tantrum is ending now.”
Katsuki cursed and tried to squirm out of the hold, but quickly stopped when Izuku resorted to using his whole weight to keep him pinned down.
Every movement he made, every breath he took made him extra aware of Izuku fucking laying over him. He could feel his sculpted torso against his back, his hand against his wrists, his hips against his ass–
Moving meant feeling Izuku press into him even more, and there was no way the result would be anything other than utterly damning.
Katsuki cursed, breathing loud and heartbeat fast enough that his heart monitor vibrated again, the final warning it gave before blaring loud enough to wake up the whole city. Izuku turned off the alarm and hummed at the number, but he didn’t let go.
The heat coursing Katsuki’s body was a familiar mix of anger, shame and embarrassment, but he would be lying if he said that was the only reason his palms were crackling, heart going a mile a minute. He could feel his dick hardening, trapped between his own body and the hard surface of the desk.
If Izuku didn’t fucking move–
“You shitty asshole, let go–”
“I’ve got all night, Kacchan.”
Katsuki growled, palms cracking even harder, though he made sure it wouldn’t actually hurt Izuku. Still, there was no way the bastard wasn’t feeling the searing heat of his building explosions, close as he was.
“I’m not apologizing because you are a wimp!”
“Too bad,” Izuku said, tone nearly bored. “By the way, if you use your quirk, I will switch to Blackwhip.”
Katsuki paled. Izuku probably assumed it was from the realization that his explosions would be useless against that damned quirk. Izuku had strengthened it to an impressive level, making the tendrils nearly unbreakable. Their spars had ended enough times with Katsuki bound from head to toe for him to know that.
What Izuku didn’t know was how many of Katsuki’s shameful fantasies were fueled by the feeling of Blackwhip wrapping around him, squeezing hard enough to leave marks–
Izuku didn’t move a single inch when Katsuki called him every insult under the sun, even occasionally forcing him to shut up when his heart monitor went wild again.
It was doing awful things to him to have Izuku say lowly against his ear, tone hard, “Settle down, Kacchan, you are hurting yourself.”
The only thing hurting him right now was his painfully hard cock and the lust threatening to make him do something extremely stupid. Like press his ass against Izuku’s crotch and moan like a fucking whore.
Barely ten minutes in, Katsuki let his forehead fall against the wooden surface with a thud. He was covered in sweat, even if Izuku barely allowed him to move, and he could feel that he was bright red. From exertion, yes, but also from the way hot spikes of pleasure ran up his spine every time he moved just right.
This needed to end now before it became a mortifying ordeal for an entirely different reason than his bruised pride.
It took him a few tries to work the words out, but eventually, voice low and rough, he choked out, “’M sorry.”
Izuku shifted. Katsuki could nearly see him cock his head on the side, curious and smug. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”
Katsuki sent his foot back, trying to kick Izuku’s tibia, but the motherfucker moved out of the way at the last second. “I said I’m fucking sorry, alright?”
Izuku hummed from above him and relaxed his hold some, but not enough for Katsuki to free himself. His failed attempts pretty much amounted to him squirming and accidentally humping the desk, making him still right away. It was a miracle he managed to swallow down his moan in time.
“For?”
“You fucking–”
“For?”
Katsuki groaned, hitting his forehead on the desk. Maybe if he did that again and again, that would give him amnesia and allow him to forget this fucking shitshow. “For telling you to fuck off.”
“That’s it?”
Katsuki was seconds away from screaming in frustration. He needed this to end so he could run to the showers and jerk off like a middle schooler. Again. Like a fucking pervert. But that was a better option than whatever alternative he had right now – namely, cum on this fucking desk. “What the fuck more do you want?”
Izuku had the gall to ‘tsk’. “I told you that you have been a brat since this morning.”
That word again. Katsuki cursed his libido to high hell for making him twitch in his pants. “I’m not saying it.”
“Guess we are in for a long night, then.”
Katsuki swore some more, but kept still. He felt strung tight, and the way Izuku’s voice had switched from demanding to coaxing was not helping. If he moved one more time, there was a fifty percent chance he was going to cum. God, he wanted to throw himself out of the window.
Inhaling shakily, he feebly said, “I’m sorry for acting out today.”
Just like that, the heat of Izuku’s body disappeared – he refused to mourn it – allowing him to breathe that much easier.
Izuku let go of his arms and Katsuki immediately hid his face in them, not daring to move despite his earlier plans. No matter how baggy his hero costume pants were, he wasn’t taking the risk to stand up now, not when Izuku’s attention was still fully on him.
From somewhere behind him, Izuku sighed.
“Kacchan, you need to start speaking your mind more. Just because I can read you doesn’t mean I should always have to piece together how you feel or what you think. If you are upset, just tell me. I will leave you alone. But you can’t just act like that then switch back to normal as soon as you worked out whatever was upsetting you. That’s not fair to me.”
Katsuki groaned from his place on the desk, still not trusting himself to move.
“…I know. I’ll try. Sorry.”
Izuku hummed again, noncommittal. And Katsuki thought that was it. He was finally free to come up with some bullshit excuse and rush to the locker room. As he shakily pushed himself up, he debated allowing his body the relief of bringing himself to completion or punishing his stupid dick by taking an ice cold shower.
He was just about to make his escape when Izuku, that fucker–
He smoothed down Katsuki’s shirt, fingers brushing against the heated skin of his lower back. “See, Kacchan? That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” His voice was low, teasing, hand warm as it patted Katsuki’s back once, twice.
Katsuki had a single second to realize what was about to happen before pleasure crashed onto him, his vision whiting out as a moan was punched out of him. He fell back against the desk, post-orgasm euphoria not having the time to set in before horror did.
He didn’t hear Izuku’s confused sound, drowned as it was by Katsuki’s inner voice.
There was no way. There was no fucking way he had just come in his pants.
The thought of this being a possibility hadn’t been serious. Katsuki had always been fucking amazing at self-restraint, even if he had to admit Izuku had a tendency to test that. But there was a world between a shameful jerk off in a public bathroom and this.
He was never recovering from this.
That’s how Bakugou Katsuki, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, was finally taken out of the scene.
By creaming his pants because his best friend bent him over a desk.
He had no choice. He would have to go home, pack his bags and move to the middle of Alaska by tomorrow morning. No more UA, no more hero work, just bear fights and praying he would one day be hit by a memory erasing quirk.
“Kacchan, are you planning to spend the night here? I need to finish my report.”
That little shit. Katsuki lifted his head just enough to glare at Izuku, standing just a few feet behind him with a stupid grin on his face and a teasing glint in his eyes. He looked unruffled, as if he hadn’t just made Katsuki come in his pants like a fucking pre-teen discovering porn for the first time.
Chuckling at whatever expression crossed Katsuki’s face, Izuku finally turned away, bending down to pick up what Katsuki had thrown to the ground earlier.
Katsuki used the distraction to straighten up, then scurry back to his desk when he ascertained Izuku wasn’t looking. He only realized too late he missed his chance to make a beeline for the locker room, mind still sluggish from his damned orgasm.
As the next best thing, he sat down, brought his knees to his chest, then spun around until the high back of his chair was acting as a barrier between him and the rest of the world. Hopefully it would hide him forever.
Izuku stopped rummaging with his things for a second.
Then, in a tone that sounded way too chastising, “Seriously, Kacchan?”
Katsuki looked down at the wet stain at the front of his pants before letting his head fall back against the chair.
“I’m not mad, asshole, I just need a fucking minute,” he grumbled, hoping a villain came crashing through the window and killed him on the spot.
“Can you take that minute in the lockers? The restaurant is gonna close if we don’t get a move on, and you still haven’t showered or changed.”
And just like that Katsuki’s plans to either move countries or planets vanished from his mind. He was distracted from the problem currently drying between his legs for just a second, enough to peek around the back of his chair. Izuku was already watching him, his gaze softening when their eyes met. It made Katsuki’s stomach swoop for much more innocent reasons than earlier.
“We are going?” Katsuki asked, and he hated how hopeful it sounded.
Izuku smiled a little. “If you still want to. I could use a warm meal.”
Katsuki grumbled a nonsensical answer, disappearing behind his chair again before the smile that wanted to break out on his face had a chance to form. Izuku huffed out a laugh, but didn’t say anything.
Later, when they got back to the dorm with a full stomach and – in his case – clean pants, Katsuki went up to his room and looked down at his dick.
Izuku had had the audacity to squeeze his waist as he passed him by to go up the stairs, a sleepy smile on his face as he said softly, ‘Goodnight, Kacchan.’
And now, because Katsuki’s body obviously hated him, he was hard. Again.
He groaned, head falling back against the hard wood of his door. “That’s gonna be a fucking problem.”
4.
A problem that Katsuki really wished he was dealing with right now, rather than witnessing what was unfolding before his eyes.
Look, Katsuki wasn’t jealous. He was not.
The ugly feeling curling in his chest, making his eye twitch and his mouth twist down, was nothing more than annoyance. He was tired, their patrol was boring as shit, and the sun was blinding him.
It had absolutely nothing to do with Izuku smiling and laughing with an nth group of civilians. He didn’t care about how they all batted their eyelashes at him. He didn’t care how they slipped in a few ‘casual’ touches that Izuku didn’t brush off, simply smiling and continuing to talk. He didn’t care about the obvious flirting Izuku was not turning down.
He didn’t care.
Why would he? Izuku was free as the wind. He could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. It was actually surprising that Izuku had yet to find himself a pretty partner to hang off his arm.
That was war hero, nation’s sweetheart, hot as hell hero Deku. People fawned over him all the time, had posters of him in their rooms, and definitely tried to slip him their phone number more than once. Katsuki had seen it happen twice already in the past hour.
And though he wasn’t all that much on social media, his idiots took way too much pleasure in sending him every thirsty post about Izuku they found. He knew what people had to say about the nerd.
It always put him in a bad mood.
Not because he cared. It was just– some of these posts were just way too explicit. Inappropriate. People should keep those thoughts to themselves, that’s all.
A way too high-pitched laugh reached his ears, and Katsuki looked back at the scene playing down a few feet away with a sneer.
One guy from the group, brown hair with the worst bedroom eyes Katsuki had ever seen, had gotten even bolder than all the other fuckers. He had taken Izuku’s wrist and held up his hand to press their palms together, comparing their size difference. He and his friends kept going on about how ‘big’ and ‘strong’ Izuku’s hands were, how ‘small’ they made him look.
Katsuki scoffed. That was the most pathetic attempt at flirting he had ever heard.
And yet, Izuku wasn’t telling them to stop putting their dirty paws all over him.
Instead, he threw his head back and laughed. All the extras’ eyes snapped to his exposed throat, eyes turning hungry.
Katsuki’s palms crackled.
He’s had enough.
Without warning, he threw his arms back and propelled himself up into the air, ignoring the startled voices and confused call of ‘Kacchan?’.
Even if Izuku thought this was some sort of meet and greet, they had a damned job to do. Like hell Katsuki would let this idiot have them pass off as slackers before they even properly debuted.
He kept to the air for a little while, keeping an eye out for any unusual activity.
It was really a beautiful day. Summer had properly set in, bringing in warm temperatures and some much needed sun. People had shredded the last of their layers and left the comfort of their homes to flood the streets, smiles on their faces and ice cream in hands.
However, the thicker the crowd, the more likely it was that villains would attack.
After circling the area they were assigned to, Katsuki dropped down until his feet landed on the hard concrete of a rooftop. He liked high vantage points, but he needed to be close enough that people didn’t just look like a mass of ants crawling around. Not that they looked that much different to him up close, but you know. Semantics.
Leaning over the railing to study the street below, overtaken by a market, he didn’t even try to hide his scowl when he caught a characteristic crackle of electricity.
He didn’t turn around when Izuku dropped onto the roof, panting and filling the air with that ozone scent Katsuki was growing ridiculously attracted to.
“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed when he finally caught his breath, though there was still a breathy quality to his voice that did things to Katsuki. He refused to acknowledge them. “Why did you run off like that? I thought we were sticking to the streets today.”
Katsuki scoffed, still glaring down at the bustling street.
“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt your little tour? Miss them already?” he sneered, rolling his eyes.
Flying around had appeased him a bit, but having Izuku complain that he wasn’t getting showered in praise and affection anymore brought back his earlier, acidic feelings.
“My tour?” Izuku came closer until he stood next to Katsuki. “Missing who? What are you talking about?”
Oh so he wanted to play stupid? Too fucking bad Katsuki wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.
Katsuki scoffed, not even glancing at Izuku before he kicked off the roof and flew over the street. He heard people exclaim excitedly from below, kids pointing at him while screaming out his hero name.
It turned into a near cacophony of yells when Izuku followed him, people recognizing the green electricity wrapping around him like a second skin. Dozens of them started calling for him, asking for them to get down and sign their stuff.
“Ah, sorry, everyone!” Izuku exclaimed when they reached the roof on the other side of the street, leaning over and flashing them a big, sheepish smile. “We are on duty, we must make sure to keep everyone safe–”
Katsuki didn’t care to hear the rest before he hopped off to the next building, then the one after.
We are on duty. Funny how that only applied to little kids asking for an autograph. He definitely didn’t care about that when it was pretty people their age grabbing his arms and complimenting his muscles.
Clenching his jaw, Katsuki continued to jump from one building to the next, glancing down every so often to make sure nobody was attempting a robbery in broad daylight. However, he would be a liar if he said the main goal wasn’t to put some distance between him and Izuku. Maybe enjoy his panting and cut off calls as he tried to keep up.
The one thing he had forgotten to take into account, though, was that Izuku’s patience wasn’t as bottomless as it used to be. Especially when it was glaringly obvious Katsuki was trying to piss him off.
After a good ten minutes of this, they reached a quieter, more residential area. The roof Katsuki landed on had been furnished, though it didn’t look particularly used. There were a few deckchairs laying around, all one strong breeze away from breaking down. The potted trees were doing better, but the roots had started to break out of the pot, seeking freedom.
Katsuki waited just long enough to hear the sound of Izuku’s boots hitting the concrete, then prepared to take flight again, grinning at the irritated huff he heard.
He got about one inch off the ground before he was suddenly yanked back.
Katsuki swore, balance lost as he was dragged across the roof.
He didn’t even have time to worry about a potential villain attack before he looked down.
Dark green tendrils were wrapped around his upper body, pinning his arms behind his back. The hold was familiar in the way that while it was firm, it didn’t hurt. Just applying enough pressure for Katsuki to know it was there, but trust it wouldn’t hurt him.
The quirk deposited him right in front of a panting, clearly annoyed Izuku.
“Okay, what is your problem?” he demanded, glaring as he crossed his arms and called back Blackwhip. He didn’t dispel it completely, though, letting the tendrils roam around. Like a warning that if Katsuki tried to run off again, he wouldn’t get far.
The picture he painted had Katsuki’s mouth go dry. Izuku was sweaty enough that his hair stuck to his forehead, curling on his neck. His crossed arms put his biceps on full display, the muscles just begging to break free from the tight fabric. His eyes were dark despite the unforgiving sun, irritation turning the bright green into a murky lake. Blackwhip danced around him like spider legs, which was the final brushstroke to the masterpiece that was an angry Izuku.
That coupled with his voice, low and strained– at this point, Katsuki wasn’t even surprised at the way his body reacted.
Still, it wasn’t enough to make him forget he was just as pissed off as Izuku.
Glaring back, he mirrored Izuku’s position. “You looking for a fight?”
“You sure are with the way you have been acting,” Izuku fired back immediately, eyes narrowing. “If you have something to say, spit it out.”
Katsuki bristled, mouth twisting into a sneer. “I have nothing to say to you,” he spat, turning on his heels and ready to take off.
Anger was almost enough to overshadow the hurt in his chest. The same hurt replaying the images of Izuku laughing along with every extra they met, and comparing it to the way he was glaring at Katsuki right now.
Apparently, he was only good at bringing out Izuku’s worst side.
Noted.
Truthfully, Katsuki should have expected that Izuku wouldn’t let him run off that easily. Still, the instant he felt a hand close around his arms, he acted on instinct.
Spinning around, he moved too fast for Izuku to block the punch directed straight to his face.
Katsuki’s fist connected with his nose, sending his head back and making him cry out. Izuku let go immediately, hands covering his face as he took a step back and bent over in pain, groaning.
Shock numbed Katsuki for all of two seconds, before guilt hit him with the force of a semi-truck.
He took a step back, hands curling at his sides as his breath got caught in his throat. Fuck. Fuck. Why had he done that? Why had Izuku done that? He fucking knew better than try and touch Katsuki when he was like that, especially when he had his back turned–
With one hand still holding onto his now bleeding nose, Izuku straightened up enough for Katsuki to meet his eyes.
And for a second, he was terrified he would see fear in there. This situation was nothing new between them, but it belonged to before. Nowadays, when Katsuki’s fist connected with Izuku’s face, it was in the context of a spar, or maybe a very heated argument where they both lunged at each other.
This wasn’t what they did. Not anymore. But Katsuki had done it, but as much as he wanted to apologize and reach for Izuku, make sure he was okay, he was frozen in place.
His worries were for naught, though. There was not a hint of fear in Izuku’s eyes, no trace of reminiscing.
There was only pure rage.
Katsuki’s battle instincts were good, amazing even, but he couldn’t have even hoped to keep up with how fast Izuku came at him.
He toppled them both over, knocking the air out of Katsuki’s lungs. There was absolutely no way his back wouldn’t bruise from how hard he hit the ground, but he barely had any time to worry about that. Not wasting a second, Izuku leaned over him, one hand grabbing the front of Katsuki’s costume while the other landed right beside his head, supporting his head. Blackwhip grabbed his wrists and pinned to the side, grip tight and unforgiving.
When Katsuki looked up to meet Izuku’s eyes, he stopped breathing.
The lower part of Izuku’s face was covered in blood, lip split and nose probably broken. However, there wasn’t a trace of pain in his expression, only incandescent rage. The sun shining from behind turned his hair into a halo and bathed his face in shadows, which only accentuated how brightly his eyes shone.
He looked ethereal. Like a vengeful angel.
“What the actual fuck were you hoping to accomplish here, uh?” Izuku demanded, voice nothing more than a growl. “Are we back in middle school? Are you going to punch me every time I say something you don’t like? Is that what we are doing, Katsuki?”
It took all of Katsuki’s will-power to focus on the words more than the tone, or the way Izuku’s face twisted into something disdainful, condescending.
“I– No, I didn’t– That’s not–”
“A-Ah– B-But I–” Izuku imitated him, voice so mocking, Katsuki had to swallow back a whine. “Cat got your tongue? Come on, Kacchan, I’m sure you have a great explanation for this. Or for whatever got you all fussy again.”
Katsuki swallowed again, his breath turning into pants. He felt like he was burning up, blood turned into lava, his skin flushed and sensitive. His mind was one scrambled mess, going a hundred miles per minute while feeling all woozy.
He had never felt like that in his entire life.
He didn’t want it to stop.
Izuku wasn’t here to entertain him, though.
When Katsuki took too long to answer, he bared his teeth. The hand that had been grabbing onto his front shot up and gripped his jaw hard enough to nearly force his mouth open. Katsuki gasped, but he kept still when Izuku leaned in closer.
“Talk,” he ordered, and Katsuki stood absolutely no chance.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the whole world fading away.
Then, words rough and a bit slurred from the grip around his jaw, he finally spoke.
“I just–” he cut himself off, hating what was about to come out of his mouth. “I didn’t like how you spoke all sweetly to all those extras,” he finally forced out, face burning his shame. God, he sounded like a jealous girlfriend, throwing a fit whenever Izuku looked at someone else.
Not that they were together! Or that Katsuki was the fucking girlfriend, goddamnit–
Before Izuku’s silence, he hurried to add, “Not that I care! It just makes me look bad! They gonna tell everybody how sweet Deku was while Dynamight was such a piece of shit. ‘S gonna affect my reputation!”
Everyone kept telling him his biggest issue as a hero was his attitude, that it would affect his ranking. Being compared to sweetheart Izuku who had a smile to give to every fucker out there would only make it worse. So it made sense. Katsuki could have stopped there and it would have been enough, probably.
But suddenly, he thought back on all those interactions from earlier.
How enticingly Izuku had smiled at the extras, how he had let them do whatever they wanted without so much as a frown. God forbid Katsuki dared to step one toe out of line, though. He was ready to bet Izuku wouldn’t snap at them if they suddenly became disrespectful, wouldn’t pin them down and get all up in their faces.
(Katsuki hoped he wouldn’t.)
Indignation fanned the embers of his anger, reminding him why they were in this situation in the first place. Glaring up at Izuku – who returned the look tenfold – he spat, “Plus, you are so fucking fake, acting like you are all sunshine and fucking rainbows. Or is it just with me? They get smiles and jokes and I get slammed down on any available surface?”
Katsuki was heaving even more now, anger mingling with his arousal and creating a frankly explosive mix. He was thanking every deity in the universe that this time, Izuku had him face up. He didn’t need a repeat from last time with his dick receiving way too much attention.
Izuku remained silent for a long while, still furious but gaze now calculating. Slowly, he leaned back, then he scoffed.
“Are you telling me you did all that because you were jealous?”
Katsuki’s anger was temporarily snuffed out by his shock, then was quickly renewed by the force of his embarrassment.
“Jealous– Have you lost your fucking mind? Why the hell would I be jealous?”
“Because I was focusing on them, and not you,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious, the most reasonable explanation.
Katsuki flushed all the way down to his chest, spluttering, but Izuku didn’t allow him any time to speak. Pushing his lower lip out in mock sadness, he let go of Katsuki’s jaw to condescendingly pat his cheek. “My Kacchan really needs a lot of attention, doesn’t he?”
My Kacchan.
Now, Katsuki had two options. Either he beat Izuku up, or he popped a boner right here and there, and probably came within the next second.
Been there, done that, he thought, and so he brought legs up and dislodged Izuku from where he was towering over him. Izuku yelped, releasing Blackwhip in his surprise.
Before the bastard could recover, he lunged at him, inversing their earlier position. Now he was on top, glaring down at a giggling Izuku, who rested his hands on the thighs now straddling him. Katsuki fought very hard to not think about the weight of them, how wide they spanned on his legs.
This was not helping the inferno making him feel seconds away from passing out.
Katsuki shoved a hand in Izuku’s hair and pulled sharply on the strands, feeling insane when Izuku grinned at him, teeth red from the blood. “Damn fucking nerd, who the hell are you calling needy?”
“You know, I never used that word, but if the shoe fits–”
“HA?!”
They grappled for a while longer. All the genuine will to fight from earlier was gone, turning it into more of a half-hearted squabble than anything. They exhausted themselves quickly, and in a series of events Katsuki didn’t want to think about, they ended up intertwined in a way that wasn’t as accidental as either of them would claim.
In their struggle, Izuku’s ridiculously long cape had wrapped around the both of them, both acting as a blanket and restraints. Katsuki complained about overheating for a little bit, which made Izuku chuckle and bring Katsuki even closer.
For a while, they didn’t say anything, catching their breath and bathing in the quiet as they watched the clouds.
Then, voice quiet and tired, Izuku said, “I told you over a year ago, Kacchan, I won’t be your punching bag anymore. If something is bothering you, you talk to me. None of this playground bully shit. We aren’t kids anymore.”
Katsuki stayed silent for a moment before groaning. “May not look like it, but I’m working on it. It's just… Things like that sound way too stupid to bring up, ‘s all.”
“Nothing you say is stupid to me,” Izuku immediately said, and the warmth that curled in Katsuki’s chest had nothing to do with his unbearable libido. “And it shows a lot of trust to be able to go to someone, and talk to them even when you feel like it’s not worth sharing. I want you to trust me like that.”
Izuku’s newfound straightforwardness was something Katsuki would take a while to get used to. But it felt nice, to finally know what was going on in Izuku’s head. To know so clearly what he wanted from Katsuki.
“I’m trying,” he said lamely, still not looking at Izuku despite feeling his gaze on him. There was no way he could possibly miss Katsuki’s blush. He sincerely hoped Izuku attributed it to exertion, but who was he fooling?
“That’s more than enough, Kacchan,” Izuku said quietly, and Katsuki glanced at him just in time to catch his soft smile, and even softer gaze.
Katsuki quickly looked away, but he allowed himself to bask in the tender attention.
Then, “That cloud looks like you.”
“Which– Kacchan, it does not!”
5.
In the following days, Katsuki decided to behave. Or well, as much as his rebellious brain could behave. He doubted Izuku wanted him to completely change himself and turn into some sort of teddy bear.
But maybe Katsuki could try to… be more vocal about what he meant or wanted rather than blowing up someone’s face until they got it. That’s what Izuku wanted from him, right?
Use your words.
I didn’t catch that.
Talk.
Katsuki turned off the hot water in his shower and stayed under the cold spray for several minutes.
And so, for the following days, he went as usual, for the most part. He kept up with his routine, allowed his idiots to disrupt it from time to time, sparred and did homework with Izuku. All throughout, he remained normal enough. Except for one thing.
Around Izuku, he was… more conscious of what he did.
Not in an uncomfortable way, more in a ‘I want to make that effort for you’ type of way. Something he would never be caught dead admitting, but that he knew Izuku could pick up.
And pick up he did.
They had just finished sparring. It had been a particularly intense session – though they hardly ever went easy on each other – and exhaustion weighted their steps as much as contentment. The burn in his muscles was nice and comforting, a reminder that as battered as he was just a few months ago, he could still pack a punch. He could still fight and give trouble to Izuku, whose analytical mind was a near invincible weapon.
He didn’t win as often now, not when his arm was still causing him trouble and his body was in the process of adapting to his quirk awakening. But when he did, Izuku’s brilliant smile as his trophy, he knew it wasn’t a hollow victory like the others tended to give him out of misplaced compassion.
Katsuki was still a hero, one that would take the world by storm as soon as he debuted. He may have some extra work to do considering his injuries, but he would manage. He would succeed.
Back in the lockers, however, he was reminded that as much as he had improved, he still had limits that shouldn’t be pushed as of now. He let warm water run along his body, particularly focusing on his right arm.
Because of nerve damage, what should have been a burning pain was more of a deep ache that ranged from annoying to debilitating depending on how much strain he put on it.
Right now, it tended more towards the latter than the former.
He opened his locker with a grumble, looking for his compression sleeve. He always left it in the same exact spot, so he didn’t even look before reaching for it–
Only for his hand to close around nothing.
Frowning, Katsuki peered in. No sleeve in sight.
There was no fucking way. He needed it the most after training, so he always kept it here, just in case. Rummaging through his things, his grumbles quickly turned into a constant stream of swears when he just couldn’t fucking find it, where the actual fuck was that shitty sleeve–
Then it hit him. His room. He had forgotten to bring it with him this morning because of how little he had needed it recently. Fuck. It would be a bitch to walk back to the dorm without it, what with the endless movement jostling his abused limb.
And maybe any other day, he would have just sucked it up and went on his way, but today, he was in too good of a mood to want it ruined by that.
Sharply exhaling, he thought it over just as Izuku came out of the shower with a contented sigh – a sound Katsuki immediately filed away in a dark, dark corner of his mind for… later uses. That corner was getting packed.
And– oh right. The nerd had compression sleeves. He had a bunch of them actually, courtesy of Auntie Inko who had heard the doctor recommend Izuku have a pair nearby just in case. In typical Auntie Inko fashion, she bought over fifteen of them. Half of which, Katsuki knew, were shoved in the disorganized mess that was Izuku’s locker.
The solution was simple. He could push the nerd away as he opened his locker, ignore his squawk of offense as he dug in and take one sleeve without a backward glance–
Or you could just ask, a terrible, syrupy voice in the back of his mind interjected.
And at first, Katsuki violently rejected the idea. If he asked, it would appear much more desperate than if he just took it. It would be like admitting not only his weakness but also his stupidity for not preparing accordingly. It would be like shining a light on the fact that even if he had improved, he was still not back to normal. Probably would never be.
But… but Katsuki had also wanted to try and be more open, hadn’t he? And even if his mind was actively working against him, the rational part knew that Izuku wouldn’t interpret the question like that. If anything, he would be on cloud nine knowing that Katsuki trusted him enough to – ugh – ask for his help. There was no misinterpreting what he asked back on the roof.
Katsuki turned the thought over and over in his mind before swearing, and slamming his locker shut. The sound prompted a ‘Kacchan, are you okay?’ from the other side of the room that he ignored as he made his way to Izuku.
The bastard was still dripping wet when Katsuki reached him, only wearing sweatpants that sat dangerously low on his hip, revealing a dark happy trail that drove his attention to– Katsuki wrenched his gaze up.
He refused to acknowledge what he was seeing. Whether it was the water drops sliding lazily along Izuku’s stupid sculpted body, wetting the waistband of his sweats or the dangerously placed bruises Katsuki had given him during their fight. More importantly, he refused to let his eyes wander again and figure out if what he saw was a strange crease or a fucking dick print.
He focused on Izuku’s face, his gaze studying him curiously as the nerd cocked his head on the side, like a puppy. The crease between his brows that had been there all day was gone, smoothed over by a good fight and a Katsuki who didn’t try to test his patience today. He looked open, soft, good.
Well, that just got a thousand times harder for Katsuki, and not for the right reasons.
“Kacchan?”
Ah, right. He had come here on a mission. Eyes shifting to the side, Katsuki caught sight of the compression sleeves seconds away from falling out of Izuku’s packed locker.
It would be so simple to just take one more step, pluck one out and leave. None of this asking shit, none of the implied vulnerability.
But Katsuki had made his choice. He wasn’t the type to go back on his word.
He wanted to cross his arms, try to put a barrier between Izuku’s growing curiosity as Katsuki just stood there, clearly working up the courage to say something, and the war happening in his chest.
God, he needed to get this over with before his heart monitor betrayed him again.
“Do you… I mean, can I–” A swallow, along with a wince. Izuku straightened, watching him attentively. “You have a bunch of– you know, I wanted to…” he trailed off, face positively burning in shame.
What the actual fuck was wrong with him? It was just a stupid question, for fuck’s sake. He had fought a whole war and that’s what he couldn’t push himself to do? Open his big mouth and put a few words together–
“What do you need, Kacchan?”
Something in Katsuki’s brain short-circuited. Or, more accurately, melted. He looked up with wide eyes, suddenly feeling small under Izuku’s gentle gaze. His voice had been awfully soft, so patient as if he could already tell what Katsuki wanted – needed – but would let him ask for it himself.
Katsuki felt very hot, all of a sudden, and also kind of… mushy. As if his mind had been put on pause.
His eyes flicked to the locker again, and with a vague wave of his hand, he said, “Compression sleeve. Forgot mine in my room and my arm…”
He didn’t know where the words came from. He had just meant to say the first part, but the gentle coaxing made him want to tell Izuku why he needed it. It made him want to give Izuku everything he asked Katsuki for. That was a… strange feeling, to say the least.
But not unpleasant. Not at all.
Izuku hummed, gaze going from his locker and back to Katsuki, focusing on his arm. A slight frown came to ripple the smooth surface of his face, and Katsuki immediately had to urge to wipe it away.
“’S nothing bad, my arm is just acting up a bit. I pushed it a lot today.”
The frown smoothed over, replaced by a small smile and glimmering eyes. “Kacchan did amazing today,” he confirmed, all mirthful and proud.
Katsuki flushed even further, focusing his gaze on the side as he huffed. “I’m always fucking amazing. I wasn’t gonna let you kick my ass, you nerd. Gonna have to try harder for that.”
“I bet,” Izuku immediately fired back, and Katsuki didn’t have time to wonder about the suddenly velvety tone. Izuku took the compression sleeve that was about to fall out, and closed the distance between them in a few steps. Katsuki reached out for it, but Izuku pulled back a bit. When he spoke, his voice was back to the gentle tone from earlier, “Can I put it on for you, Kacchan?”
Katsuki blinked, meeting Izuku’s eyes. Just as patient and soft as earlier, watching Katsuki like he was something to be handled with care. A part of him wanted to bristle at that, but it was quickly suppressed by that same mushy feeling from earlier that seemed to round down all his sharp edges.
He considered for all of two seconds before nodding. He could put on the sleeve on his own, even when his arm hurt that bad already. He had quite literally refused to let anyone do it for him since he got rid of the sling. But suddenly, the idea of choosing to make things more difficult for himself rather than just accept Izuku’s help didn’t make sense.
Izuku asked to do it for him. Why the hell would he say no?
He watched as Izuku moved closer, bunching up the sleeve as he went. His gaze was focused on Katsuki’s arm, and he started muttering about the most efficient way to get it on without hurting Katsuki. That was a lost cause, as any and all movement sent sharp needles of pain all the way up to his shoulder, but Katsuki didn’t bother telling him that.
He liked the sound of Izuku’s voice. He didn’t want it to stop.
In the end, he underestimated Izuku. He managed to pull it on with minimal jostling, which Katsuki would have never managed on his own. Even when he fixed it, making sure it enveloped Katsuki’s arm properly, he was overly careful, tongue even poking out.
Katsuki wanted to kiss it.
Once he was satisfied, Izuku straightened up, but he didn’t step back. There were barely a few inches left between them, giving Katsuki a perfect view of Izuku’s numerous freckles and the eyelashes he would never admit to having counted in the past.
“Feels good?” Izuku asked, a soft smile painting his lips.
It took Katsuki several seconds to properly interpret the words.
He blushed some more – he must look like a fucking tomato, goddamnit – and looked down at his arm to avoid Izuku’s tender gaze. Moving his arm some, he nodded. The pain wouldn’t leave any time soon but the pressure reduced it to a much more manageable level.
“Yeah,” he still felt the need to say. Then, in a voice so small, it barely sounded like his anymore, “Thank you.”
And Katsuki was ready to make his escape then. Turn around and skitter away before Izuku properly registered the words.
Before he could, however, warm fingers settled under his chin and lifted his face up. When Katsuki met Izuku’s eyes, they were a green puddle of affection.
“Thank you,” he whispered, the air brushing against Katsuki’s lips.
And oh. Oh. There was approbation in his tone, his face, his gaze. Something pleased, something that sounded, looked like a praise.
You did good.
Katsuki’s breathing hitched, and he wrenched his gaze away as a new wave of heat traveled his body. He suddenly felt like the only thing holding him up were the fingers still under his chin.
“Wh-whatever,” he finally got out, wincing at the stutter. Bakugou Katsuki didn’t stutter, for fuck’s sake.
Izuku hummed, the sound verging way too close to a chuckle for Katsuki’s taste.
“Kacchan should go grab his bag, we’re going to be late for dinner.”
He removed his hand as he spoke, taking a step back. Katsuki immediately mourned the loss and mentally kicked himself for it. He nodded once, sharply, before turning on his heels. For good measure, he barked over his shoulder, properly ending the moment, “And put a damn shirt on, shitty nerd!”
He stomped back to his locker under the clear sound of Izuku’s laugh.
+1
Izuku watched as Kacchan yet again stepped in front of him, blocking his access to the cupboard, and pointedly ignoring Izuku’s sharp exhale and glare.
It was the third time he had done that in the past five minutes.
Izuku wasn’t doubting that he was doing it on purpose. Now, the question was why Kacchan decided pissing him off at seven in the morning was a good idea.
The past week had been fine. They hadn’t argued beyond their usual banter, and Kacchan had gone the extra mile to try and talk to him when his mood inevitably dropped. It had made Izuku feel warm all over, and he couldn’t help his smile whenever Kacchan stumbled through his words, all shy and embarrassed.
He was adorable. Izuku wanted to devour him.
Today, however, Kacchan didn’t seem like he wanted to be cooperative. He barely returned Izuku’s greeting, and had been getting in his way since Izuku stepped foot in the kitchen.
The fourth time, he snapped.
“Kacchan, stop that.”
Kacchan had the audacity to throw him a peeved look, as if Izuku was acting unreasonably. “The fuck you talking about? Can’t cook my own damn breakfast in peace, now?”
“Your breakfast is on the stove,” Izuku pointed out, eyes flickering to the mouth-watering food cooling in a pan. “What could you possibly need here? There is only coffee stuff in this cupboard.”
Kacchan glanced into the cupboard, distaste crossing his face before he smoothed it down. “So? Maybe I want a damn coffee.”
Izuku rolled his eyes. “You hate coffee.”
Kacchan huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. He was probably going for intimidating, but the pout on his face ruined the effect. Izuku would have cooed if he wasn’t seconds away from committing murder. God, he needed his coffee.
“How the fuck would you know that, asshole?” Kacchan asked, all disdainful and clearly sulky. “You always wake up hours after me. Maybe I’m also a stupid coffee addict who downs an entire pot every morning.”
Izuku stared at him, deadpan. “Kacchan, I have known you since we were three years old. You do not drink coffee. Now move.”
Wrong phrasing. Izuku didn’t hide his groan when Kacchan’s eyes narrowed, posture shifting into one of challenge.
“Fucking make me.”
Izuku looked at Kacchan.
That’s how he knew Kacchan didn’t drink coffee. Because anyone who did knew that there was no getting between a coffee drinker and their morning cup.
With no hesitation whatsoever, Izuku wrapped his hands around Kacchan’s waist and lifted him up. Kacchan yelped, immediately grabbing onto his forearms as Izuku turned around and set him down near the island.
“There,” Izuku said, turning back around and grabbing his usual mug. “Quit being a brat, Kacchan, it’s too early for that.”
Focusing on his preparations, it took Izuku a minute to realize he didn’t hear a word from Kacchan, nor spot a hint of movement.
Uh. Weird.
Izuku glanced over his shoulder as he started the coffee machine. He would have expected Kacchan to try and explode him out of existence for ‘daring’ to manhandle him but–
Oh. Now, wasn’t that a growingly familiar sight.
Kacchan was frozen in his spot, arms hanging limply by his sides as he stared at Izuku with wide eyes. He was bright red, swallowing thickly as his eyes flickered down to Izuku’s arms, then back up.
Izuku narrowed his eyes.
He had seen Kacchan with this expression a lot these past weeks. The first time was in the gym, when Kacchan had come looking for a fight Izuku was in no mood to give. Back then, he had put it down as shock.
Izuku knew his temper was not what it used to be. Things annoyed him much more easily, and he had a hard time hiding it before it made his voice go sharp and cold, face closing off.
Shouto told him it made him scary. Ochako told him it made him hot.
Whichever one of them was right, it didn’t change the fact that nobody was used to that from Izuku, least of all Kacchan. No matter how far he took things, how mean or cruel or simply bratty he acted, Izuku never particularly fought back. He had tried to call him out on it a few times, but never too harshly, knowing it would just make Kacchan bristle and get even angrier.
Nowadays, however, he didn’t have the patience for that. He was tired, okay. He felt like the last year had aged him by several decades. Even with the war done now, his hardships just kept piling up.
Neither he nor All Might could figure out if what Izuku was holding onto were embers or some sort of vestige-less One For All, which put his entire future on hold. He kept receiving calls from government officials trying to use his war hero image in their party’s advantage. He kept being ogled at wherever he went like a zoo animal, whispers following him and never letting him forget that everybody knew who Deku was now, but for all the wrong reasons.
He was tired, he was annoyed and he truly didn’t have the patience to take any more shit from anyone, least of all his friends.
So yes, maybe he had been less tolerant of Kacchan’s antics.
What he didn’t expect was for Kacchan to like it.
He didn’t miss how the second time he saw Kacchan flush and go all still and quiet, Kacchan’s eyes flickered down to his lips, then his legs, before he left the room in a hurry.
He didn’t miss how the third time, Kacchan made a sound that, after much assessing, couldn’t be anything other than a moan.
He didn’t miss how the fourth time, Kacchan was sulky and jealous, but didn’t try to move away from an embrace that toyed with the lines of friendship – like their entire relationship did.
He didn’t miss how the fifth time, Kacchan nearly preened at Izuku’s praise, shy and soft.
And now, Izuku would be a fool to miss how much Kacchan’s eyes lingered on his arms, his hands. How they flickered back to his face, saw that Izuku was watching him and quickly turned away. How his blush intensified and went all the way down to his chest, barely covered by his tank top as it was.
Putting together the very obvious puzzle, Izuku slowly tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Taking advantage of Kacchan opening his mouth to speak, Izuku moved swiftly, putting back his hands on Kacchan’s waist. He greatly enjoyed the way Kacchan choked on his words, his own hands snapping up to hover over Izuku’s, not quite touching.
It took a great deal of effort to look away from the storm happening on Kacchan’s face, but Izuku just had to take in the view down there.
His hands almost swallowed up Kacchan’s waist, fingers a mere inch away from touching. Despite how dainty it looked, Izuku could feel the core strength hiding beneath, the defined abs, the muscular back.
He rubbed his thumb over where Kacchan’s belly button was, smiling when he heard a soft gasp.
It turned into an aborted yell when Izuku picked him up, and took a single step to put him on the island.
Kacchan’s hands instinctively flew to his shoulders, and Izuku didn’t give him time to react before nudging his legs open, stepping right between them. Izuku relished the way their bodies were pressed together, his face dangerously close to Kacchan’s plush chest. He wanted to put it in his mouth.
Heat flooded Izuku’s groin when he looked up and was met with the sight of those beautiful red eyes going wide and anticipatory, pupils blown wide. His parted lips looked inviting, all red and slick from being licked. Hot puffs of air hit Izuku’s face in quick succession, and he amusedly glanced down at Kacchan’s heart monitor. It would go off soon.
“You know, Kacchan, I have always wondered what it would take to shut you up. I would have never guessed it was as easy as that.”
Kacchan blinked, jaw working as if he was trying to find his words, before going slack again when Izuku's hands slipped below his shirt.
Thanks to his quirk, Kacchan ran particularly hot in summer. Izuku hummed at the feeling, his hands kneading the firm and warm flesh.
If Kacchan’s skin was that warm, what was it like inside him?
“Izuku,” Kacchan breathed out, all shaky and desperate. Izuku looked up at him. The red in his eyes had been reduced to a thin ring. “What are you doing?”
Izuku raised an eyebrow. “What you have been wanting me to do since you started pissing me off every chance you got.”
If possible, Kacchan flushed even more, nails digging into Izuku’s shoulders. “That’s not– I haven’t been– You–”
Izuku chuckled, leaning in to press his mouth against Kacchan’s jaw, whispering the words against it, “You are a terrible liar, Kacchan.”
“Fuck you,” Kacchan immediately spat back, though there was no heat behind it, more of a reflex than anything.
Still. Izuku had taught him better than that.
In one smooth movement, his hands left Kacchan’s waist to find the back of his knees. Then, he pulled.
Kacchan yelped as he landed on his back, hands gripping the edge of the island as Izuku settled his legs on his shoulders.
“You fucker–”
“Kacchan’s mouth is so dirty,” Izuku murmured, turning his head to press the words into his inner thigh.
He stared Kacchan right in the eye as he peeked out his tongue and ran it across the bare skin, smiling when a soft gasp left those pretty lips. He trailed his gaze down, taking in the hardened nipple peeking out, pink and waiting. The bunched-up top revealed his stomach and the trail of blond hair disappearing below his sleep shorts. The strained fabric was doing a poor job of hiding his hard and leaking cock.
Izuku licked his lips. Even if Kacchan didn’t speak, his whole body just begged to be touched.
Catching Kacchan’s gaze again, Izuku trailed his hands down impossibly long legs and hooked his fingers in the waistband of Kacchan’s shorts. He paused before tugging them down.
“If you want me to stop, I will,” he said, voice still rough from how turned on he was.
Kacchan blinked, mind obviously hazy. He looked adorable like that, all pliant and wide-eyed, but Izuku waited until he surfaced a bit.
What he wanted to do – what he was about to do – wasn’t just some vanilla make out session. Even if every sign pointed towards a resounding yes, he had to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted anything. That Kacchan wanted this as much as he did.
God, he needed Kacchan to want this.
He watched attentively as Kacchan’s pupils receded – a shame – clarity returning to him. As soon as it did, the confirmation Izuku was praying for came in the form of a glare.
“Don’t start something you won’t finish, stupid nerd,” Kacchan growled, kicking Izuku’s back like he wanted to urge a horse forward.
Izuku grinned, fire lighting up his nerves. Oh, he would take his sweet time fucking that attitude out of him.
“It’s a standing offer,” he added, before grabbing onto Kacchan’s shorts and quickly getting rid of that annoying barrier of fabric.
Kacchan wasn’t wearing any underwear, which allowed his cock to spring free, hitting his stomach and leaving behind a string of precum. Izuku’s mouth flooded with saliva. He had seen Kacchan’s cock already a thousand times, but never like that. Never hard, flushed an angry red from the neglect, and twitching under Izuku’s hungry gaze.
“Stop staring, you fucking creep.”
Izuku’s eyes snapped up. Kacchan was watching him, red and panting as his arms came up to hide his face, shirt pulled up to his nose. As if he could hide the way his legs spread that much wider, giving Izuku an even better view. As if he could hide from Izuku.
That wouldn’t do.
“Take off your shirt,” Izuku demanded.
Kacchan peeked at him from over his arms, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
It would have sounded more convincing if it wasn’t so breathy, his cock betraying him by jumping and leaking out more precum. Izuku raised an eyebrow, humming. “I don’t think you actually want that,” he said, chuckling when Kacchan groaned, hiding his face again.
Izuku wasn’t feeling particularly patient, though. Counting down to three in his head, he removed his hands from Kacchan’s hips and rested them on the island, mere inches away from Kacchan. Vicious pleasure curled in his chest at the frustrated whine that Kacchan didn’t even try to muffle, one angry red eye staring at him, accusatory.
“You know what to do if you want me to continue,” he said calmly, leaning back.
Kacchan continued to glare for all of two seconds before he let his head fall back. He muttered curses under his breath for a few seconds – Izuku pinched his ass for it, which earned him a delicious noise and Kacchan’s eyes going even more hazy – before finally grabbing the hem of his shirt. In one smooth motion, he took it off, now laying bare on the kitchen island.
Izuku didn’t immediately start touching him again, instead taking in the sinful sight in front of him.
Kacchan was laid out like a feast ready to be devoured.
Legs spread and hands resting on either side of his head as he weakly glared up. The rising sun bathed him in a soft light, highlighting every muscle, every scar, every impatient twitch. With the white marble of the island below him, Kacchan looked like a god spread on his own altar, ready to be worshipped.
Hunger made Izuku’s jaw ache, just begging to close around any part of that smooth, flushed skin. He wanted to leave marks everywhere, brand Kacchan in a way he would feel for the rest of his life.
He wanted to venerate him. He wanted to ruin him.
“Izuku, come on,” Kacchan urged, his words reduced to a whine. He didn’t move, though, didn’t reach out to try and bring Izuku closer. No, Kacchan was expecting Izuku to come to him, to pleasure him while he lay there and took it.
Izuku nearly felt dizzy from desire.
Even more so when his eyes fell on Kacchan’s cock, still so hard despite being neglected for so long. It was resting on his belly, leaking pre-cum in a near-continuous flow. Izuku’s mouth flooded with saliva.
He wanted that in his mouth.
With a jolt, he realized he could have that now.
The only warning Kacchan got was Izuku opening his legs wider. Then, he swooped in, held down his hips and took him in his mouth.
Kacchan cried out, head falling back with a thud. Izuku barely registered it as he focused on the taste filling his mouth. It was slightly salty, but with hints of that sweetness that permeated Kacchan’s scent. He immediately moaned, his tongue swirling around the tip to truly savor that addicting taste.
The sound vibrations did something that had Kacchan buckle up in his mouth, then shove his hands in his hair and pull. Izuku’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.
He moaned again, taking a moment to enjoy the way Kacchan was writhing under him, broken moans leaving his mouth in a near continuous flow.
It took all his willpower to try and focus on what he was doing.
He had never sucked dick before – or done anything else for that matter. But he wanted to make this good for Kacchan, good enough that he went boneless with pleasure, like after an intense fight. Grinning and relaxed and so enticing.
Izuku thought about it for a second, then decided to experiment a bit. Hollowing out his cheeks, he flattened his tongue and pressed it against Kacchan’s cock as he slowly took more of him.
The heavy feeling in his mouth was heavenly, and he gently bobbed his head, moaning all the while. How had he gone so long without that? Without feeling Kacchan trembling below him, hands in his hair and thighs closing around his head?
Kacchan’s grip tightened, hips desperately trying to jerk up under Izuku’s hand. “Izuku, fuck– Nghhh–”
Izuku moaned appreciatively, smug at how many of those pretty sounds he was coaxing out of Kacchan with just his mouth.
It made him feel braver. In one sudden move, he lowered his head until the shaft hit the back of his throat, immediately triggering his gag reflex. He paused there, fighting it back as he allowed his hands to travel Kacchan’s body. They explored the smooth skin of Kacchan’s stomach, his hips, before grabbing his thighs and forcing them open again.
He gently caressed for a few seconds, before abruptly raking down his nails. Kacchan howled.
When he was sure his body wouldn’t betray him again, Izuku lifted his head until only the head remained in his mouth before swallowing it back down in one quick move. He set a quick rhythm, hand wrapping around what he couldn’t – yet – take in. Izuku savored every drop of pre-cum, every drag of Kacchan’s cock along his tongue. Heat was pooling dangerously fast in his stomach, but Izuku couldn’t care less when he was making Kacchan feel that good.
The most beautiful sounds kept pouring out of his mouth, barely muffled moans and broken attempts at Izuku’s name. It encouraged Izuku to be more daring, doing things with his tongue he didn’t even know possible just to pull even more of them out of Kacchan.
By the time Kacchan’s thighs abruptly clamped down around his head – Izuku would remember this feeling until his last breath – moans turning into a quick repetition of “I’m close, I’m close, I’m so fucking close–”
Izuku pulled off.
He smirked at Kacchan’s betrayed cry, even if he was himself mourning the loss. Izuku pressed his mouth to his cock, giving it one last lick before looking up.
Kacchan looked absolutely gorgeous.
He was panting, his parted lips red from being bitten. Tears were streaming down his face, burying in his hair, and making his eyes shine in the morning light. He looked wrecked. He looked perfect.
But where Izuku would have expected a glare and a silent promise of murder if he didn’t immediately get back to work, he was faced with something so much better.
“Izuku, please,” Kacchan whispered, trying to push his head back down. His eyes glistened with tears, pleading and so beautiful. “Fuck, please, please, do it again.”
Izuku was awestruck for a moment, any and all thought flung out of his mind. He drank in the sight of Kacchan begging him to get him off, voice breathy and so very soft. The fact that Kacchan was allowing himself to be desperate and vulnerable, enough so to properly ask for what he wanted–
The image imprinted itself in Izuku’s mind, tattooing itself under his eyelids and ruining every one of his attempts to retain even some control.
Or well. Retain the control that would have usually prevented him from doing what he was about to.
Izuku trailed kisses on Kacchan’s cock, letting his tongue peek out when he reached the tip. He swirled his tongue around it once, twice. His eyes never left Kacchan, who inhaled sharply, trying to buck up and shove his cock into his mouth again. Then, making sure that his mouth was basically pressed up against the skin, he said, “No.”
Before Kacchan properly registered the word, he straightened up properly. Kacchan’s hands fell from his hair in shock.
“No?” he repeated, even more tears gathering in his eyes.
Izuku looked down, hands traveling up and down Kacchan’s thighs and appreciating his handiwork. The skin was red and abused, clearly sensitive if the way the muscles quivered under his touch was anything to go by.
“No,” he repeated, looking back up to catch Kacchan’s devastated look. He didn’t even try to hide it or wipe away the tears in his eyes. The way pleasure had undone every single one of his barriers made Izuku’s forgotten dick twitch in interest. “You have been a brat since I woke up, and you think I’ll give you what you want? A bit selfish, Kacchan, don’t you think?”
“But–”
“No but,” Izuku interrupted, voice firm. It was a heady feeling to watch Kacchan’s mouth slam shut. “I think that after all that, I should just use you to get off. My own personal fuck toy. What do you think, Kacchan?”
He suddenly pressed Kacchan’s thighs down, forcing his legs against the cold surface of the island in a perfect split. Izuku leaned in, mouth right above Kacchan’s nipple. He gave it a kitten lick, smiling when Kacchan’s breath hitched. “What about I just do whatever I want with you until I come, hm? What about I fuck you so good and pull out as soon as I’m done? What about I leave you like that, still hard and full of my cum for everyone to find when they wake up?”
He talked the words directly into Kacchan’s skin, hands smoothing down his sides as he mouthed at his chest. The hazy look in Kacchan’s eyes got even worse, turning the usually intense red into a soft carmine. It reminded him of the way Kacchan had looked back in the lockers, right after he stumbled his way through his question. So soft. So pliant.
Izuku had wanted to shove him against the lockers and take him right there. a sweet reward for actually listening to Izuku and using his words. He would have given Kacchan anything he would have asked for back then.
Now, though? When the only thing Kacchan had done was piss him off instead of simply asking for what he wanted – which was clearly a good dicking down?
Izuku didn’t feel so benevolent.
Izuku’s fingers traveled up to Kacchan’s chest before going down again, lightly pinching his perked nipples on their way. He filed away the way a full shiver wrecked through Kacchan’s body for later uses.
Leaving behind a trail of goosebumps, his hands continued their path all the way down to Kacchan’s ass. He leant back and grabbed his cheeks, parting them until he caught a glimpse of a pink asshole. Izuku licked his lips, his dick reminding him yet again of its presence.
Humming, Izuku considered his options. He needed better access to Kacchan’s ass, but he needed his hands free. Looking up, he watched Kacchan watch him, trembling and waiting. God, what a delicious picture he made, peeking up from above his red and glistening chest.
Cocking his head, he had an idea. He caught Kacchan’s legs by the back of his knees again and pressed them against his chest. Before he could voice his command, Kacchan’s hands immediately flew to grab them and keep them in place.
Izuku grinned. “Oh, so now you want to be good, Kacchan?” He chuckled, pinching the back of his thighs. Kacchan moaned, but didn’t let go. “Are you that desperate for my cock?”
He didn’t wait for an answer – not that Kacchan seemed coherent enough to give him one – focusing back on the ass now put on full display before him. Izuku kneaded the flesh, enjoying the firmness of it. How many times had he watched that same ass when Kacchan did an indecent amount of squats mere feet in front of him?
This time, when Izuku parted his cheeks, there was no teasing. He fully revealed Kacchan’s hole, thumbing at the tight ring of muscle and enjoying the way Kacchan groaned like he was punched.
“Such a pretty hole,” Izuku commented, nearly conversationally. Then, frowning, “A bit dry, though. We should fix that.”
Eyes never leaving Kacchan’s face, Izuku leaned down and spit directly on it.
Kacchan’s eyes rolled down to the back of his head, moaning loud enough to bounce against the walls. Izuku chuckled. Thank God they had closed the door when coming in this morning.
“So sensitive,” he whispered, licking his middle finger and wetting up Kacchan’s hole as much as possible. He teased the entrance, watching it flutter and feeling his heart do the same.
Kacchan really was sensitive. He kept twitching and moaning at the softest touch, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. When Izuku pushed a single knuckle in, Kacchan arched up beautifully, hands clawing at the island.
It was enough to shatter Izuku’s restraint.
Using both hands to keep his cheeks apart, he bent down and started licking the rim. Kacchan mewled, the ring of muscle tightening under his tongue. The sweet taste that seemed to cling to every inch of Kacchan’s skin filled his mouth, giving him an idea of what ambrosia must taste like. No wonder gods only fed off it, he could feel his own body rewire itself until all he ever needed to survive was this.
Kacchan on his back, legs spread, coming apart under his tongue.
Izuku slobbered all over the rim, teasing it with his tongue but never quite pushing in. While Izuku was extremely tempted to eat Kacchan out and properly taste him, he forced himself to hold back some. His neglected dick was reminding him of its existence more and more by the second, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t come just from getting his tongue up Kacchan’s asshole.
No, he would save that for another time.
As soon as he got Kacchan wet enough, Izuku reluctantly pulled away. A string of saliva connected them still, and Izuku hummed as he licked it in. He lifted his head just enough to watch as Kacchan’s strength left him as soon as he didn’t have Izuku’s mouth on him. He sagged against the island, mouth open and drool definitely joined the tears.
As affected as Izuku himself was, he didn’t let it show in his voice as he laughed, amused and mean. “If me just licking you up gets you like this, what is it going to be when I put my dick in?” He squeezed Kacchan’s cheeks hard enough to bruise, making him whine. “Will you even last long enough for me to come too?” Then, forgetting to at least try to filter his thoughts, he added, “Not like it matters. Kacchan can handle a bit of overstimulation, right?”
A sob left Kacchan’s lips. Izuku froze and worried for a moment he went too far.
Or he would have if Kacchan’s dick didn’t twitch hard enough to slap against his stomach.
Izuku’s eyes shone with the discovery. “Oh, you like this,” he whispered, honest in his wonder. “You like when I use you like a living fleshlight, don’t you? Chasing my own pleasure and not caring about what you want. Is that what Kacchan wants? That I fuck him like a common whore?”
Another sob. Izuku nearly came on the spot.
As guilty as Izuku had felt about the thought, he had always found Kacchan to be such a pretty crier. Lips pouty and wobbly, just begging to be kissed. His eyes shone like rubies, and the way tears streaked his face, wetting his pink cheeks and pearling at his chin, the water catching the light just right– God, what a dreamy sight. Had he not hated the idea of Kacchan being saddened to the point of tears, he probably would have used that as jerk-off material much earlier.
But now that those cries were caused by how good Izuku was making him feel, how embarrassed he was that being insulted was turning him on– oh, Izuku had no more reason to hate it, quite the opposite.
No wonder Kacchan had reacted so beautifully every time Izuku snapped at him, harsh and a bit mean. He liked the rough treatment as much as he liked being showered in praises.
His Kacchan sure was full of contradictions.
Chuckling again, Izuku turned back to the task at hand.
He slowly pushed his finger against Kacchan’s rim, expecting the resistance. What he did not expect was the way Kacchan’s breath hitched, then forcefully evened out. His whole body relaxed enough to allow Izuku in. The searing heat of Kacchan was almost enough to distract Izuku from the obviously trained way Kacchan allowed him in.
Almost.
“Have you done this already, Kacchan?” he asked.
His voice was neutral, but he made sure to stare intensely into Kacchan’s eyes when he opened them. There were two possible answers, one of which Izuku would absolutely hate.
Even in his secondary state, Kacchan seemed to sense that. Words slurred, he quickly clarified, “J-Just with my own fingers.”
Oh. Now, that was an answer Izuku liked very much. The image of Kacchan spread like that on his bed, fingers up in his own ass as he tried to muffle his moans– his early bedtime was starting to make more sense.
Smile returning, Izuku asked, “Is that so? When was the last time you fingered yourself, Kacchan?”
He reveled in the way Kacchan quickly slammed his eyes shut, cheeks turning crimson. Still, all it took was Izuku abruptly crooking his finger inside Kacchan to get an answer. “Fuck– t-this week.”
Uh. “Which day?”
Kacchan made a frustrated sound at the back of his throat, which only made Izuku more curious. There was something he didn’t want to admit here, even with his brain as fogged up as it was.
Pulling his finger out until only the last knuckle remained inside, he coldly said, “I don’t like repeating myself, Kacchan.”
Kacchan whined, high and loud, eyes snapping open in a panic. “Tuesday! Fuck, it was Tuesday. Tuesday evening.”
Izuku thought back on Tuesday as he slowly pushed his finger back in, Kacchan clenching around him as if to prevent him from pulling out again. Cute. But he had more pressing matters right now.
Was there anything special about Tuesday? Something that would have turned Kacchan on enough that he would sacrifice a few precious minutes of sleep to take care of himself?
He rewound the day in his head, nearly coming to a blank until realization slapped him in the face.
Tuesday. The day in the lockers.
Izuku’s eyes widened and snapped back to Kacchan’s face, now flaming and turned away.
Kacchan had fingered himself a mere hour after Izuku helped him put on the compression sleeve. He had been suspiciously quiet during their walk back to the dorms, then barely spoke a word to anyone as he gulfed down a quick dinner. As soon as he was done, he rushed to his room in a hurry that made a few eyebrows raise.
Izuku hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it had taken a lot out of Kacchan to be this vulnerable.
But no. While Izuku was eating his own late dinner, chatting with his classmates about mundane, useless things, Kacchan was in his room, spreading himself open on his fingers.
Without any warning, Izuku shoved a second finger in. Kacchan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Izuku started scissoring him open with renewed vigor, looking for a specific spot.
With a put-upon sigh, he chided, “Kacchan always makes things so difficult for himself. If you had just asked, I would have fucked you back then already. On an actual bed.”
Kacchan bit onto his lips as another moan was punched out of him, clenching around Izuku’s fingers. This time, Izuku let him get away without an answer. With the way his mouth was hanging open, walls closing around Izuku’s fingers every other second, he was clearly too far gone for talking.
It took a few tries but soon enough, he curled his fingers just right to make Kacchan throw his head back and scream.
“Found it,” Izuku said, grinning, before starting the abuse.
By the time he added a third finger and judged him loose enough, Kacchan had his mouth hanging open, eyes glazed over. His back formed a perfect arc as he kept his legs pressed against his plush tits, nails digging into his thighs.
Izuku watched as his hole greedily sucked in his fingers, whole body shaking. He looked debauched, so desperate for more.
Izuku’s dick twitched. Hard. He had waited long enough – both of them.
“Let go,” he ordered, mindlessly throwing in a soft praise when Kacchan immediately obeyed, hands leaving his thighs to fall limply against the island. Gone was the resistance at being ordered around. Kacchan was like the prettiest doll, bending every which way Izuku wanted him to.
Such a sweet thing.
Wrapping his hands around Kacchan’s waist, Izuku yanked him down until his lower half was completely off the island. Kacchan gasped, legs instinctively wrapping around Izuku as he immediately grabbed onto the edge of the island to support himself.
Not that he had to. With one hand pulling out his aching dick, Izuku kept the other wrapped around his hip, keeping him up effortlessly. When Kacchan realized, he went boneless again, moaning.
Izuku chuckled. He would be a fool to miss how obviously turned on Kacchan was at his shows of strength. For someone as strong and in control as Kacchan, he really loved the idea of being made to submit.
Raising his hand to his mouth, Izuku licked it before finally wrapping it around his cock. He moaned, loud and slow, as he stroked himself. Usually, he liked teasing himself with soft touches before really getting into it, but if he waited one more second, he might just come from Kacchan moaning lewdly enough.
He brought Kacchan closer, careful to balance his weight. Then he lined himself up and didn’t wait before pushing the head in.
They both moaned in unison.
“God, Kacchan, you are so tight,” Izuku breathed.
Kacchan’s hole took him in as if it was shaped just for him. It took every ounce of Izuku’s self-control to not immediately sheathe himself completely in the heat of Kacchan’s walls, revel in the pressure that was just right.
There was no way he was going to last. Neither was Kacchan, if the way he was shaking, hands finding the edge of the island and holding it in a death grip was anything to go by.
Taking a deep breath, Izuku’s other hand found Kachan’s waist and he started to slowly lower him on his dick. The drag was absolute torture, spit making it slick enough to work but dry enough to toy with the line of pain. Just how Izuku liked it.
However, as soon as he bottomed out, he realized one thing.
The angle was wrong.
Frowning, he gave Kacchan a second to adjust before experimentally lifting him up and slamming him back down on his cock. And while the pleasure was there and nearly made his knees buckle, Kacchan’s scream of pleasure pretty fucking gratifying in itself, it confirmed his thoughts.
He couldn’t fuck Kacchan properly like this. The island was just a few inches too high, no matter how he manhandled the pliant body in his hands, he wouldn’t hit deep enough. Not only that, but the position would quickly grow uncomfortable for Kacchan.
No, despite his earlier words, Izuku wanted to make sure Kacchan felt good.
Quickly thinking – even more so when Kacchan whined a breathy ‘Izuku’ and clenched around him impatiently – his eyes landed on the wall.
Uh.
How much could he lift, again?
Without waiting for his own answer, he picked Kacchan completely off the island, arms below his knees, and urged him to wrap his hands around his neck.
“’Zuku?” Kacchan asked, confused and so very gone, but still obeying easily.
If the heat in Izuku’s blood had cooled some in the time that he figured this out, it came back in full force at the way his name rolled off Kacchan’s tongue.
In just two strides, he had Kacchan against the wall, not an inch of space left between them. Izuku shoved his face in Kacchan’s neck, mouthing at the skin and getting drunk off the sweetness of it. Blindly, he grabbed his dick and lined himself up again.
This time, Izuku didn’t wait before thrusting up.
Their earlier moans turned into screams of pleasure.
This was the perfect angle.
Izuku immediately set a brutal pace, long past teasing. He pressed into Kacchan, the light kisses on his neck turning into bruising bites. Izuku didn’t allow Kacchan to move a muscle as he made him take what he gave him. Every harsh thrust, every bite, every word.
All Kacchan could do was stay there and take it.
Soon, the only sounds filling the room were the repetitive slap of flesh, Kacchan’s moans, and Izuku’s filthy mouth.
“Look at you, moaning like a slut just for me,” he whispered, sharply biting on Kacchan’s lobe. “You like this, don’t you? You love being used like this, made just for me.” Izuku pressed even closer, grinding his hips and getting a drawn-out moan out of Kacchan. “That’s why you have been acting like a brat all month. You just wanted this, my big dick up your guts. So desperate for it, Kacchan, what would the others think?”
He lifted Kacchan’s legs even higher, then thrusted hard. Kacchan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, mouth open on a silent scream. “What would they say if they walked in and saw you like this? Pressed up against a wall and mewling like bitch in heat while I fuck you? You would like that, wouldn’t you? Them seeing what a whore you are for my– fuck– my cock.”
Izuku was getting out of breath, the effort and his own growing orgasm making his mind go hazy with pleasure. He couldn’t control the words coming out of his mouth, but didn’t try to stop the constant flow either. Why would he when Kacchan tightened more and more around him with every insult, hands clawing at Izuku’s shirt.
By the time Kacchan’s orgasm zapped through his body like a bolt of lightning, Izuku was too gone to truly register it. He was chasing his own pleasure, only caring about the slide of his cock in the tight furnace that was Kacchan, only caring about the heat building up in his groin.
When Izuku sunk his teeth into Kacchan's neck, the taste of sweat and that overly sweet caramel sent him over the edge.
His orgasm slammed into him like a truck on a highway, making his vision go white. It traveled through his entire body, lighting up every single one of his nerve endings like a wildfire.
Izuku had had some pretty good orgasms on his own, but nothing came close to this.
Panting and spent, Izuku slumped into the warmth surrounding him. He was ready to fall asleep right here and there, mind empty and body pleasantly buzzing. A distant voice in his mind reminded him it couldn’t be past eight, but that was a problem for future Izuku.
He couldn’t tell how long it took for him to come down from his high. By the time he did, Kacchan was boneless in his arms, legs now wrapped around his waist, and there was the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
Izuku frowned, only now noticing the pressure in his jaw before he realized he was still biting down on Kacchan’s throat.
Carefully letting go, he lifted his head some and took in the damage. There were a few drops of blood, but nothing bad, it seemed. It would definitely leave a mark, though.
Izuku really wished he felt more guilty about it than he actually did.
He leaned to lick the blood, wincing a bit when Kacchan shuddered, involuntarily clenching around his soft cock still nestled inside him.
“Kacchan?” he softly called, too tired to do more than let his head fall back on Kacchan’s shoulder. A distant hum was his only response. “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”
There was a grumbling, unhappy sound, but Izuku didn’t hear any actual protest. Carefully, he lifted Kacchan off, careful to keep him against the wall. With how pliant he was in his arms, Izuku was ready to bet he would melt into a puddle on the floor without the firm support of the wall.
Izuku took a small step back, taking a good look at Kacchan.
He was completely fucked out.
His eyes were fogged over, blink slow and content. The bite mark on his neck was an angry red, unmistakable and clearly sensitive, though it fit well with the mosaic of hickeys Izuku had left.
He was still holding Kacchan by his legs, which gave him a great view of the white streaks on Kacchan’s stomach, Izuku’s own cum slowly leaking out of his fluttering hole.
Izuku let out a low groan before getting close again. He moved them around some until Kacchan slowly wrapped his legs around his waist again, arms circling Izuku’s shoulders and nuzzling into his neck.
Like a cat, Izuku thought fondly, turning his head to press a kiss on his head.
“You did so good, baby,” he whispered in Kacchan’s hair, drawing circles on his back. “See how good I can make you feel when you behave?”
Kacchan made a small sound, but didn’t answer otherwise. Izuku let him.
They stayed like that for what felt like hours, basking in each other’s warmth. Izuku sometimes whispered sweet nonsense in Kacchan’s ear, sometimes peppering kisses on his head. He just couldn’t resist, Kacchan was too cute.
A part of him couldn’t believe that the boy in his arms – the one who sighed contently every time Izuku kissed his ear, – and the great hero Dynamight – the one who was leading their class training like a drill sergeant no later than yesterday, – were the same person.
And yet, somehow, it made sense.
Kacchan was always in control, always taking on the role of leader. He rarely allowed someone else to take the reins, to choose for him, to follow their lead.
Except with Izuku. He had first noticed it out on the field, when tension was high and they had to think fast. In those moments, when Izuku presented his plan and was too caught up in the situation to really ask anyone’s opinion, Kacchan didn’t protest. He gave a simple nod and followed Izuku’s instructions like he was made for it.
The rush Izuku felt whenever he noticed it could rival the adrenaline of a good fight.
That’s why, when he really thought about it, nothing about this was surprising.
Kacchan wasn’t good with words, had never been, and probably never would be. He had wanted the relief of relinquishing control to someone else even outside of hero work, but his pride and shame couldn’t let him verbalize that. Hell, Izuku was ready to bet he hadn’t even allowed himself to accept that’s what he needed.
And so, Kacchan had sought it out in the only way he knew how: through fights. Arguments. Provocation.
Only recently did Izuku’s words get through his head a little, made him at least try to ask for what he wanted, but it hadn’t stuck. Izuku wasn’t angry about it, though. How could he, when it led to Kacchan falling asleep in his arms, sated and relaxed? And anyway, he had all the time in the world to bring Kacchan to a point where he could speak what he wanted without feeling ashamed about it.
When the kitchen’s clock hit eight, Izuku sighed and kissed Kacchan’s head one last time before pulling away slightly
“Let’s get you dressed,” he said, chuckling when Kacchan sleepily groaned, clearly not fond of the idea.
It was quite a challenge to clean Kacchan up and maneuver him back into his clothes – and his heart monitor that he had removed at some point, to Izuku’s heavy displeasure – when he was completely uncooperative. He let Izuku do all the work, body pliant and uncoordinated.
Izuku adored it.
Enjoying the few more moments of peace they had before class A started pouring in at nine, Izuku – finally – started his pot of coffee and heated up Kacchan’s food, sat on eating a quiet breakfast with Kacchan up in his room. They still had a little time left before they were well and truly late for their meetup with All Might.
As he waited, he watched Kacchan.
He was exactly where Izuku had put him earlier, sitting at the island and resting his head on his arms. His eyes had fluttered closed a little while ago, but Izuku knew he wasn’t asleep – his biological clock would never allow him to be. The sun was a bit higher in the sky now, light not pouring in as much as before, but it still highlighted every one of Kacchan’s soft feature, the loose lines of his body.
Izuku had had a great many reasons to be happy in the past year, even with everything that happened and his blurry future. He had met his idol, he had gotten a quirk, he had been admitted at UA, he had become a hero. He had a name that people remembered, that they spoke with admiration and respect. He had made friends.
But somehow, none of it quite equaled the happiness he felt in this moment.
The happiness of having Kacchan right here, happy and relaxed after handing Izuku the most vulnerable part of himself, and trusting him to handle it with care.
Izuku smiled. His Kacchan wasn’t good with words, but that was okay.
Izuku understood him anyway.