Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki is exhausted. He’s had a long fucking day. Fighting not two, not three, but five tough villains, for starters. One per day is passable excitement. Two, unusual but thrilling. After three, though, it just chips at the psyche.

He uses the keycard to unlock his apartment door and shoves his way inside. No point announcing he’s home, considering there’s no one waiting.

He’s fine with that.

Kicking off his shoes, he hangs his jacket and sets down his back. Takes a moment to tidy everything up. Then trudges into the living room and collapses face-first to the cushions.

Yeah, sure, he could make it to bed. But that’s when he was standing. Now he’s face-down and too fucking exhausted to give a shit about where he captures some sleep.

His phone vibrates. Ugh. He fumbles it out of his pocket and squints. Grumbles.

“The fuck, Deku…”

Not work, at least, or he'd be hearing from them. Still, the nerd attracts trouble like lichen and algae; it's never clear who starts it, but the end result is the same.

Katsuki opens the message. It's not a message, more of a picture and it's… well, Katsuki's too tired to very well judge if it's a waste of his time or not. It's a selfie of Deku with some gross amalgamation of fries, gravy, and chunky shit sprinkled on top.

He fires off a text. What the actual FUCK are you eating?

The reply is so fast that he almost suspects Deku uses OFA to reply. It's poutine! French fries and cheese curds and gravy!

Katsuki feels his eyebrow twitch. Whatever. Kill yourself with junk for all I care.

His phone vibrates again.

It's only this one time, I'll be fine! Okay, technically the second, but it was so good the first time I forgot to even show you!

Katsuki growls and rolls onto his back. Types a response. I don't care about stupid shit! Just got off work. I'm beat. Bother someone else and fuck off in Canada.

He isn’t waiting for a response. Absolutely not.

He gets one.

Oh, sorry. I’ll show you something cool then, one sec!

Fucking hell. Katsuki is about to type that he isn’t asking for anything, but an image pushes through before he can complete the message.

It’s… admittedly refreshing. Deku caught a somewhat decent image of an aurora borealis in the night sky, apparently from his hotel window judging by the angle. Katsuki takes a moment to zoom in (fuck, Izuku’s phone camera is garbage and clearly isn’t doing the sight proper justice) and adjusts the picture a few times. Begins to mess with the saturation to see if he can improve it and—wait.

What

the fuck

is in the corner of the picture?

He zooms in more. It’s not an entire image but… yeah. No doubt about it.

That’s a fucking dildo.

Katsuki sits straight up. Types rapidly.

Go take a picture of your hotel window and put your hand on it.

The reply takes an understandably long time despite its brevity. Why?

Katsuki realizes he’s palming at his crotch. Shit.

Okay. This is fine. He’s just asking one dumb favor and it won’t matter in the long run. Just one favor and he’ll tell Deku to fuck off and go save some Canadian civilians or whatever the fuck he’s doing interning over there.

Because I’m curious about the stupid view, asshole!

There. That’s believable enough. He thinks.

But maybe not, because Deku doesn’t reply right away. Or in the next ten minutes. Katsuki’s getting annoyed and tired, which isn’t helped by the fucking hard-on he’s got wondering about that stupid dildo.

Because that has to be the reason. Nothing about the nerd gets him off when he's alone and horny. Nope. Not at all. Not those thick thighs in motion when the news goes over Weekly Top Ten Hero Win Moments or that scarred hand in a victory fist making Katsuki wonder what it's like to be the lucky bastard jerked off by it or most certainly not the bead of sweat that tends to trickle down that freckled jaw line when he's especially exerting himself.

Katsuki is not in lo—attracted to Deku. He's just inexplicably horny because he saw what he's judging to be a pretty fucking thick dildo and yeah that is up his alley, thank you very fucking much, piss off.

His phone vibrates against his thigh. Shuddering, he rapidly opens the next message. No text, again. Just an obliging photo of Izuku’s palm on the glass of his window. It’s not quite the right angle—or maybe the nerd moved the damn dildo, who knows—but Katsuki can compare the two images, Izuku’s hand, the measurements between panes and… yeah.

That’s a pretty fucking thick dildo the nerd owns.

Then he has the wild, annoying, infuriating thought of, Unless it’s not his.

No way. The shitnerd won’t take some random lover in Canada. He said so himself; he’ll be back in Musutafu in two weeks. The internship’s almost over after eighteen long ass months.

Katsuki is even more annoyed at how hard he is, despite these stupid thoughts. He sets the phone down and palms his clothed dick again. Shit. This isn’t going away unless he rubs one out, huh?

Not that it has anything to do with Deku.

Katsuki unfastens his pants and shoves them down, along with his boxer briefs, just low enough to pull his dick out and give an experimental tug. Alone, an unfiltered groan escapes him. He presses his head against the armrest of the couch and shifts into a more comfortable position. Licks his palm, then tugs his cock again.

Yeah. That’s providing relief. One jack-off session and then he can sleep. Any dude can relate to that.

As he rolls his palm over the head of his swollen dick, however, his mind wanders beyond just the pleasure. To that stupid fucking dildo. Can Deku actually fit it inside his ass? Katsuki is reasonably certain the guy doesn’t discriminate who he’s attracted to (not after attempted-yet-amicably-split relationships with Round Face and then Four-Eyes, the two of whom immediately dated and got engaged after, the fucking weirdos), so it also stands to reason that, yeah, Deku might enjoy taking it up the ass, and if he does, that dildo probably helps when he’s horny, and fuck, that just leads to wondering how much lube the nerd needs to be able to handle something that thick and—

“Shit,” he mutters, clenching his eyes as a wave of desire crests over him.

Yeah. Okay. Fine. He’s jerking off to Deku. Not his fucking fault the nerd showed off proof that he’s great at taking it up the ass.

Katsuki’s breath shortens as his strokes grow more desperate. He has to spit on his hand to get more glide, and then it’s just even better. Had he the patience, he’d just go to his room and get his own damn lube, but this feels too good and he’s thinking about Deku’s scarred hand and how it’d feel on his cock right now, and how the nerd must look before using those powerful legs to sink onto a thick dick and fuck.

“Shitty nerd,” he growls, arching into his own hand. His hips begin to piston like he’s fucking into a tight, sloppy wet hole. “How the fuck… do you take it… shit.”

It’s still not quite enough. His phone vibrates again, this time against his stomach, and he irately knocks it to the carpet before rubbing a thumb over his leaking slit. Panting. Beginning to sweat.

“Fuck,” he gasps. Who cares how loud he is. It’s his apartment, and the walls are reasonably sound-proofed if the upstairs neighbors who are way too open about their BDSM activities barely make a sound. “Fucking shit, Deku, should be taking my cock right now, I’ll wreck that tight little ass of yours.”

He’s talking to no one, yet he can practically hear the nerd’s breathless, reedy moans in response. It only heightens his own sensitivity as he imagines Deku riding him, hands on Katsuki’s thighs, nails pinching him, chest heaving as his head is thrown back in sheer ecstasy, his throat exposed and sweat dripping down his sides…

“Deku.”

Katsuki comes into his hand with a strangled gasp. He chases the high to completion, writhing on the couch, uncaring where the streams of cum land. Just fucking his own fist until it starts to ache and soften, and then he just collapses to the couch, boneless and satisfied.

He should clean up. Check his phone.

But he’s sleepy and content, so he just wipes his hand on his pants, tosses them aside to deal with in the morning, and passes out half-naked on the couch.

Chapter Text

As he showers the next morning, Katsuki wonders if post-nut clarity applies when he isn’t put off by what he masturbated to.

He hasn’t checked his phone yet, despite getting a message during his cum-to-Deku session. He was too busy cleaning up his mess this morning, annoyed with himself even while his dick stirred at the images he got off to. Stupid fucking Deku, turning him on and shit when he’s untouchable in goddamn Canada.

Scrubbing irritably at his hair, Katsuki mulls over the situation. So Deku’s in Canada. There’s a twelve hour difference between them right now, so the idiot must have been on his late morning/early afternoon routine when he sent that first picture. A day off, perhaps. Not that Deku’s indicated he gets much of those during his internship. Or he’s working nights. And if it’s the latter, finding a way to prod at this and see just how far he can get will be a touch more complicated.

Sure, he can wait the two weeks until Deku gets back. Technically. His dick is in a rather disagreeable mood for that, though.

Katsuki rinses the suds from his hair. Contemplates the wisdom of his instincts, then grabs the bottle of conditioner. Lathers his hair. Keeps one hand up there while the other drifts down to his throbbing dick.

Fine. He’ll jerk off in the shower, too. Not like he doesn’t have time; work isn’t for another two hours. And what else was he going to do? Clean? His place is spotless, fuck you.

The water provides some relief as he strokes his cock. Not that he’s the type to go around shouting about it, but Katsuki knows he has a nice dick. Right now it’s thick and hard, and the idea of slowly sinking into Deku’s writing, soaking-wet ass is enough to get him leaking. The smell of his own pre-cum mingles with the faint coconut of his conditioner.

He wonders what Deku smells like. Wants to get a good, long look at the nerd’s cock before sucking him in deep. Katsuki wants the nerd hard and pulsing in his mouth, striking the back of his throat in a long, brutal face-fuck right before Katsuki turns the tables and fucks into him until Deku screams his name. In the shower would be glorious, or in the bath—Deku dripping wet, water streaming from his drenched mop of curls and into his flushed face. Eyes wide. Begging Katsuki to make him come.

Katsuki tugs at his own hair. His fingers slip right through, because of the conditioner and then—oh. Fuck. There’s an idea.

It’s been a while.

Taking a deep breath, he allows that hand to fall back to his own ass. Spreads his legs a bit. Prods his own hole with his slippery fingers, enhancing the scent of coconut and sex. Katsuki grudgingly releases his cock to adjust the shower head—losing progress is not an option—before he crouches down. Water splashes his hair, trickles down his back, getting conditioner in his eyes. It stings as much as the first finger sliding in. But then he wriggles a second finger in, fucks into himself, and it’s good.

“Shit,” he whispers, shaking his head. Keeping his eyes closed tight. “Holy shit, Deku, you gonna fuck me?”

It’s wild, talking aloud to himself; not a thing he’s ever really explored. But it helps his arousal, intensifying the heat in his gut. He has to kneel to prevent himself from slipping, but that allows him to bring his ass higher into the air, gives him more room to shove his fingers in. He’d love a third right now, but this is the easiest way to—

“Fuck.” The expletive leaves his mouth in a forceful gust. His finger brushes against that spot, barely there, but absolute fucking heaven. “Fuck me, Deku, fuck.”

It’s a reversal of his fantasy last night. Now he’s the one riding Deku, jerking himself fiercely as the nerd looks up at him, half-dazed, whining about how good Katsuki feels. Because, yeah, Katsuki would feel good, he’s never let anyone in his ass before; that’s a him-only deal. But this, shit, this is hot. Deku could take him. Deku can handle him.

That’s what gets him close. The realization that Deku can, in fact, handle him. Roughly. Forcefully. Gently. Any fucking way.

Katsuki has never been overwhelmed with the desire to track someone down and fuck them so badly.

“Shit, Deku, Deku, fuck.” Katsuki squeezes his dick, hot and wet, his mouth falling open. The water with conditioner tastes like shit. But he’s too far gone to care. Thrusting his fingers in as far as he can, giving himself long, even, quickening strokes. “Gonna come on your face, fucking nerd, fuck. ”

The orgasm is sudden; a spring release that wracks his body in hot waves. Katsuki pulls his fingers out of his ass, still pumping himself to completion, steadying himself with his other hand as he rides out the pleasure.

As he comes down, he waits for it: the post-nut clarity that makes him disgusted with himself.

It never comes. His only thought is to wash his hands and finish his damn shower.

***

Katsuki doesn’t bother to check his phone until he’s on his way to work. Deku only messaged him once, which oddly annoys him.

Did the pic help, Kacchan?

And that’s it. No follow-up. Fucking asshole.

Katsuki taps a belated reply. Yeah. Fine. Nice pic. Fell asleep. Going to work.

He doesn’t consider how odd it is that he explains himself to Deku, of all people, until he’s changed into his hero outfit and his phone vibrates on the locker bench.

Everything OK? You’re acting weird.

Katsuki snarls and replies. Fuck you, I’m fine. How would you know? Fuck off in Canada.

Well, shit. Once he hits send, he realizes that’s not exactly the way to go about trying to pursue… whatever this might be. A one-sided infatuation, maybe. But still.

Once Katsuki has a goal in mind, he doesn’t give up. Failure is not an option.

Deku replies swiftly. Sorry, you’re right. Have a good day!

Fuck.

Whatever. Hero work comes first, not his goddamn libido. Katsuki shoves the phone in his locker and stalks off to check out the rest of his equipment. Can’t do hero work without communication devices, after all.

He’ll get Deku back later.

***

In fact, when Katsuki returns home, he’s on fire. Almost literally; his hands popping off with miniature explosions as he rushes through his post-work routine. Then he sits himself at the breakfast island, phone in hand, and contemplates.

He’s going to test the waters. The question is only how far to go, and what steps to take.

Here’s the thing: Katsuki knows his relationship with Deku is… complicated. Okay, it’s fucked up. But it’s definitely improved since their first year at UA. He wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’re friendly enough for Deku to send stupid pics, after all.

That gives him an inkling of where to start.

Hey, shitnerd. You send that pic to Birdbrain? It’s right up his alley.

The response is surprisingly swift, considering it should be almost 7am over there. Then again, maybe not. He doesn’t exactly know Deku’s current schedule.

Of… my hand?

If Deku were here, Katsuki’d smack him.

No, asshole! Of the aurora borealis!

He swears he can hear Deku’s nervous laughter. Oh! No, I haven’t sent it to anyone else. I’ll do that, though. It’s been a while since I talked to him.

Well, shit. He didn’t mean for Deku to start a conversation with someone else. All he wanted was to confirm that he’s the only one Deku sends pictures to. Because if so, that heightens his chances. Probably.

Whatever. Anything else stupid to show me?

Curiosity laces Deku’s reply. Another rough day, Kacchan?

Not in hero work, no, but Deku doesn’t need to know that yet. A faint smirk touches Katsuki’s lips as he replies. Maybe.

This time, it takes Deku a while to reply. Katsuki decides to busy himself—because it’s just pathetic to sit on his ass and wait—so he sets the phone aside and runs through some stretches. When that’s done and still no answer, he lunges into some push-ups. Never hurts to stay fit, after all.

Halfway through his typical count, the phone pings. Katsuki reminds himself not to look too eager, so he finishes the set and wipes his hands before looking at his phone again.

This was a cool place me and some other interns went to a couple months ago!

Katsuki immediately recognizes the background. It’s Yoho National Park in British Columbia. He’s always wanted to hike there, and the sight of Lake O’Hara against a backdrop of blue mountains is admittedly gorgeous.

Not, however, as gorgeous as the sight of Deku in the photo, in a pair of swimming shorts and sluiced from water at the edge of the lake. He’s laughing and wiping his eyes; clearly, the photo was taken by someone else. The shot is clearer than any of Deku’s; the lens is probably a thousand times better than Deku’s shitty camera phone, too. Much as Katsuki resents whoever it is behind the camera, he has to admit they took a damn good photo. Deku’s right shoulder sports a familiar, deep-tissue scar that covers nearly a fourth of his arm. He looks a bit tan, as he often does in summer months, so other large scars are raised, highlighted white lines from elbow to hand, and a couple he doesn’t recognize across his chest and lower stomach.

“The fuck are you doing, getting hurt where I can’t see shit,” grumbles Katsuki beneath his breath.

He saves the photo. Why not. It’s damn good.

He fires back. Always wanted to go climbing there.

The response is eager. I thought I heard you say that once! I have a ton of pics of the area, but it’s really beautiful to see yourself! And this is just the best one I had since someone else sent it to me lol. But yeah, you should totally go!

Katsuki is vaguely annoyed at the last sentence. Then invite me, asshole.

Maybe I will someday.

He sets his phone down and considers. It’s not like he can just send a picture innocuously; he’s infamous in their friend group about not taking selfies. When he does, it’s purely to compare where he is now from some time ago.

A vicious grin cuts into his cheeks.

You busy, nerd?

As expected, a rapid reply. Not really. I don’t work until noon. What’s up?

Fucking perfect.

Katsuki takes his time finding an older picture. Then takes his time setting up for a rare selfie. He imitates the pose from before: standing in front of a full-length mirror, shirtless, just in his boxer-briefs, focusing on his torso and legs. Improvement. He’s fucking cut and he knows it.

His pulse quickens in a mixture of nerves and excitement. Mostly the latter. He sends the two photos and a brief message. Curious what you think. Been upping my bulk routine while you’ve been fucking around.

And send.

Within seconds, the message indicates that it’s been read. But there’s no reply.

Interesting.

Whatever. Katsuki can be patient. He’s grown since UA, after all, and if the silence is a good indicator, maybe he’s gotten lucky and Deku’s fucking himself with that over-sized dildo.

Chapter Text

Katsuki doesn’t get a reply for a fucking week.

Yes, he’s annoyed. No, he refuses to think anything more than Deku’s a fucking walking ADHD billboard, so of course he’ll read shit and forget to reply, especially if something comes up. And anything could’ve happened. So he’s annoyed and jerking off to that image of Deku at the lake, but it’s fucking fine, god damn it.

When the reply does eventually come, it’s time stamped during Katsuki’s work hours. The bastard.

Sorry, I got caught up in stuff! You look amazing, Kacchan!

Fucking nerd. Katsuki replies while half-undressed from his hero suit. Whatever. You clearly aren’t keeping up with me.

Considering his phone pings just as he’s dressed and about to leave, his challenge has been accepted. Katsuki grins when reading Deku’s message.

I’ve changed a lot, too! I know it didn’t look like it in that pic, but that was over a year ago.

His fingers fly over the screen. Prove it. Just for good measure, he takes a quick photo of himself flipping off the camera. A subtle challenge despite its boldness, but if Deku has two halves of a brain cell to rub together, he’ll get the message.

And Deku goes silent again.

Challenge accepted.

***

This time, Katsuki only has to wait two days. And Deku fucking delivers.

He stares at his phone, cock twitching with interest. Deku’s taken a torso-only shot but compares it with a full-body shot from what seems like the same hotel room but quite a while ago. He’s bulked up, for sure. Not as dramatically as Katsuki, but Deku’s strength is in his legs these days, which just makes this choice all the more fascinating.

Katsuki saves the photo, then sends a quick message so he can go back to staring. Not bad. What about your legs though?

Maybe this is flirting. Maybe it’s torment. Who knows? All Katsuki knows is that his eyes are roaming over Deku’s chest, at his hard pink nipples and scarred stomach. The image cuts off with just a hint of a dark blue underwear band. It looks cropped.

Deku replies. Oh, about the same.

Katsuki feels that wicked grin pulling his lips again. Whatever you say. No pics, no proof.

His cock begins to strain against his jeans. He shifts on the bed, unzipping his fly. The sweet relief is good, but he doesn’t touch himself. Not just yet. This time, he wants to savor this interaction. And on the chance it goes south, well, at least he hopefully won’t have his dick in hand.

Kacchan, I can’t. Sorry.

Interesting. Not that he won’t, but he can’t. Shitty Deku’s still at work, huh?

No, that’s not it.

Katsuki loses his breath for a moment. His spine straightens, and his legs ease into a more spread position. Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.

And that’s true enough. They’ve been naked in front of each other basically their whole lives. So it’s not the matter of Deku being shy about his goddamn underwear. Even if it’s stupid All Might merch, Katsuki’s seen it all.

For a hot minute, he’s left on read. Katsuki is beginning to think that this is an endeavor that won’t pan out. But then his phone pings and—

“Holy shit, Deku,” he breathes.

The nerd went all fucking in. The photo’s a bit blurry (clearly his hands were shaking when he took the pic), but it’s everything. Deku’s head to fucking toe nude, every scar on full display, his thighs thick and strong and more toned than before. His head’s turned to the side, a high blush on his face, and… yeah.

He’s hard as fuck.

Katsuki replies quickly before the nerd can fall too far into a panic attack. Nice.

Not the most eloquent reply, but honestly, his brain’s a bit short-circuited at the moment. Deku’s cock is fucking beautiful; swollen, red at the tip, hanging just a bit in a display of weight and holy fuck Katsuki has never thought his mouth would water at the sight of dick, but shit. Deku looks goddamn delectable.

The reply takes him aback a little. Your turn.

Oh hell yes.

Katsuki shoves his pants off. Leaves his boxer briefs on, but lowers them enough for his cock to spring out. He yanks his shirt up, lies back, and angles the phone. After a moment’s hesitation, he reminds himself that fucking Deku doesn’t get to out-do him here, so he fists himself and gives a couple firm strokes. Once he’s leaking pre-cum, he adjusts his hold on the phone and gets the best angle possible that includes his face. No fucking reason to make the nerd think for even a second that he’s sending someone else’s stupid junk.

He sends the photo and lets out a long breath. Begins to rub his dick. Probably due to his more frequent masturbation, his ass starts to ache, too. Katsuki fumbles for some lube. His elbow hits the phone, but whatever, he’ll get to it in a minute. Right now he’s more focused on lubing up his fingers and pressing them into his hole. A long, full groan escapes, loud to his own ears.

“Fuck,” he rasps to the ceiling. “That’s right, fuck me…”

His breaths seem to double. It feels that damn good. Katsuki shifts so he can press a second finger in. The lube makes an obscene wet sound that makes him shiver. “Deku, shit… fucking hell, you’re gonna fuck me good, aren’t you.”

It’s not a question. He knows Deku would. That nerd’s got experience under his belt, and Katsuki has no doubt that he’d blow him away. Literally.

He shoves his fingers in deeper and allows every noise and whimper and moan to escape his chest. “Nngh… deeper, Deku. Shit.” It’s not enough. He’s having trouble finding that spot, maybe because of that damn dick pic. “Take that cock and fuck me.”

It’s hot. Sweltering. Katsuki’s hips shift off the bed. He adjusts so he’s on his knees, his cock hanging untouched while he pulls his ass with one hand and fucks himself with the other. That finally does it, and he can barely touch his prostate.

“Fuck, Deku, Deku, fuck.” He’s gasping and pressing his forehead into the pillow. “Right there, yes… shit.” He groans. “So close…”

It’s only when he pauses to take a calming breath that he realizes… there is another breath. Not his.

On the phone.

Shit.

He pushes himself up with a curse. Glances at the phone. It’s been on for three fucking minutes and still going, and it’s…

“Deku,” he growls.

A voice stutters for a moment. Then, weakly, Deku answers. “Uh… hi, K-Kacchan…”

Well, fuck. Katsuki grits his teeth. Yeah, he wants Deku to be a part of this, but he wanted it to be on purpose. And now he doesn’t have a damn clue what to say.

Abruptly, Deku blurts out, “Please don’t stop!”

Oh.

Katsuki sighs and presses his face back to the pillow. Turns his head to look at the phone, its bright screen and Deku’s stupid fucking name in bold kanji at the top. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

That answer is firm. God, Deku must be flustered as hell, but he has zero shame right now. It just invigorates Katsuki.

“You asked for it, nerd,” he grunts, shifting back into position. “Don’t hang up.”

“I won’t, Kacchan.”

Yes, that faintly shuddering response, yes. Katsuki adds more lube and presses his fingers back in. It’s easier now, and he’s looser. “Mmn… guess what’s in my ass, Deku.” A sharp intake of breath is his only answer, so Katsuki unravels the mystery for him. “Just my fingers. But I can—nngh—I can come untouched this way…”

Unsteadily, Deku says, “Do you… do you do that a lot?”

Katsuki closes his eyes. Brushes against his own prostate, just barely, and moans. “Lately… yeah.”

“What do you think about?”

God, that’s hot. Deku’s voice slowly drops, becomes both smooth and guttural at the same time. “You, dumbass.” Katsuki shifts so he’s still kneeling, but the head of his swollen, leaking cock touches the sheets. So fucking gratifying. “Fucking you. You fucking me. All of it.” He shudders as he manages to touch that spot again, and his voice weakens. “Wanna… suck your dick, drink your cum… fucking shit.”

“Oh, god,” whispers Deku.

Heat spreads through Katsuki’s body. He can feel his dick pulsing, needing, but fuck if he’s going to trigger a refractory period, so he just keeps stretching his ass, playing with himself that way. “Deku,” he pants. “Do me a favor.”

“Anything,” says Deku fervently.

Fuck fuck fuck that’s hot. “Tell me when I can come.”

A slight strangled noise answers. “Oh, Kacchan…” Deku is breathing harder. Touching himself, maybe? “You can come. Please come. I wanna hear you.”

“Shit,” he gasps. The permission is strangely enough to bring him right to that edge. “Fuck, Deku, yeah, you’ll hear me, you’ll—oh shit.” He clenches so hard around his own damn fingers that Katsuki dimly wonders if he can break them this way. “Fuck. Deku, I’m coming, I’m coming… Deku.”

The name erupts out of him just as his dick throbs. It’s an insane release of endorphins, leaving him grunting and gasping his way through the orgasm. He has to remove his fingers, but the pleasure doesn’t stop immediately. He rolls onto his back and tugs at his balls, still moaning, desperate to keep this a dry orgasm. “Fuck, fuck.”

It takes a minute for his breathing to slow. On the other line, Deku is still taking quick breaths, giving small whimpers. Katsuki shudders and grips his cock.

“Kacchan,” whispers Deku. “That was… wow. I… I wish I could’ve seen it.”

Ha. Despite himself, Katsuki’s chest swells with pride. He wipes his lubed hand on the sheets and reangles the phone so it’s closer to his face. “That can be arranged.”

Silence. Then:

“Are you serious?” Deku’s voice is thin and breathy on the other line.

Katsuki groans and lets his head fall back to the pillow. Squeezes his dick. “What do you think?”

A shuddering breath makes the line go staticky for a moment. “I… oh my god… Kacchan…”

“Well?” He turns his head toward the phone, giving himself another good stroke. “What’d you think would happen, showing off that dildo?”

Deku gasps. “What?”

“In the stupid aurora borealis picture, you fucking—” Katsuki shudders and lets out a moan as he sweeps his thumb over the slick head of his cock. He may have only had a dry orgasm, but there’s pre-cum everywhere, making every little touch smoother. “F-fucking nerd… shit…”

Deku is quiet but for shortening breaths for a few moments. Then: “I… didn’t notice but… um…”

This is getting annoying. “Deku, I’m still hard and wanna jerk off to you like this. That okay?”

“Oh god. Yeah.” Deku sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, please. Um… me, too?”

Katsuki shudders and resists the urge to just fuck into his hand until he reaches completion. The mere question is hot as hell. “That’s the hope, asshole. Unless you don’t—”

“I do, I do, just—ow!” Katsuki snorts as the sound of Deku fumbling and knocking into things comes through. “I just… gimme a sec…”

This is turning out far better than he’s imagined. Deku being okay with it is one thing. Joining him is another. Accidentally overhearing and staying on the line, outrageous but still just a thing. Being so fucking eager is the best.

He forces himself to slow down while Deku prepares. Whatever the fuck he’s doing, it’s taking longer than Katsuki wants, but it’ll be worth it, he tells himself, so just calm the fuck down and let the nerd do his thing.

Finally, Deku’s voice comes through again. “Kacchan, tell me what you’re doing.”

Hmm. He considers just switching to video, but this is hot in its own way, and it’s served them damn well thus far. Katsuki adjusts so his knees are bent, his feet flat on the mattress, and he releases his erection to trail downward. “Fuckin’ waiting on you, so I’m just touching my balls right now. Thinking about you doing it.”

Deku emits a muffled whimper. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki closes his eyes and just lets his hand go where it pleases. “Thinking about you touching me. Figuring out what turns me on. My nipples are pretty fucking sensitive, you know.” He pinches himself for emphasis and allows a low, pleased sound to slip from his throat. “I’ll let you figure that out for yourself once you get back.”

A faint keening noise answers. “I’d like that…”

Katsuki grins and lets his hand drift back to his cock. “And you?”

“I’m… prepping myself.”

Oh, shit.

“Yeah?” Katsuki hears how his own voice clips with heightening lust. “What d’you use?”

“Lube and m-my fingers,” admits Deku. He whines a little. “It’s not enough though… I can’t reach that spot on my own.”

“Mm, yeah, it’s hard.” Katsuki emphasizes the last word and revels in Deku’s moan. “How d’you do it, then? Fuck that huge dildo of yours?”

“N-not yet,” stammers Deku. A short series of whimpers and moans follow, along with faint squelching noises that, somehow, makes Katsuki even harder. “Gotta build up to it.”

“Fucking hot,” groans Katsuki. He pumps himself a couple times just to relieve the ache. “Pretty sure that fucker’s as thick as I am, you gonna be ready to take me when you get back?”

Deku moans, deep and loud and sending a new wave of pleasure that crashes into Katsuki’s shoulders and foams downward. “Yeah, Kacchan. Always wanted to.”

“Shit,” he breathes. Katsuki spits on his hand and goes back to touching himself, forcing his hand to move slow and steady. “You fucker… never told me…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you wanted me to fuck you either, Kacchan.” The rebuke has no teeth, though, and it’s clear that Deku’s struggling to maintain some equilibrium. “I just… oh…”

Katsuki’s breath hitches. “Deku?”

“N-no, just…” Deku whines and Katsuki can hear him squirming on the sheets. “I have… I have a set… just put the smallest one in…”

The image nearly makes Katsuki’s eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck, I wanna see…”

There’s some fumbling and he’s not entirely sure what Deku’s doing. But the noises don’t stop. He’s whimpering on the other line, the squelching noises intensifying for a good few seconds. Katsuki can’t help but stroke himself a little faster.

“The fuck’re you doing, nerd?” he says.

Deku mewls. Oh fuck. Oh, shit, that goes straight to Katsuki’s dick and he’s pulsing. “J-just… a surprise…”

“Tell me,” demands Katsuki.

The noises intensify again. Deku begins to moan heavily and it’s so fucking intense that Katsuki begins fucking into his fist without thinking about it.

“I… aahn…” Deku whines senselessly. “Just… took a video… of the dildo in me…”

“Fuck,” groans Katsuki. He shudders. “M’not gonna last long enough to see it, you fucker…”

Deku sounds closer all of a sudden, like he’s turned over and the receiver is next to his mouth. Static punctuates his words. “Kacchan… I’m gonna come.”

A startling possessiveness overtakes Katsuki. He rolls so he’s half kneeling, ass in the air, jerking his own dick as he lowers his mouth toward the phone. “Not without me, Izuku.”

A sharp cry answers, and that also sends Katsuki over the edge. He forces the phone away so he doesn’t come all over it, and that’s a good call because he splatters. Thick, long ropes spurt out of him, all over the sheets, his own chest, his chin. Hot and throbbing and so fucking good. Literally the only thing that would make it better is Deku being right here.

He remains in that position for a moment, desperate to recapture his breath. Finally, Katsuki wipes his hands clean and grabs his phone. Still connected, thank fuck. Deku’s breathing is labored but slowing, so he must’ve come, too.

“Hey,” he says, low and quiet so as not to startle him. “You alive, shitty Deku?”

“Mmhm.” The mumble sounds distant. “Just… came hard.”

Katsuki shivers. “Same.”

They go quiet for a solid minute.

At last, Katsuki says, “What day are you coming back?”

Deku pauses. “Thursday.”

Fucking good. “Got a place to stay?”

From the soft, sweet way Deku answers, it’s obvious that he’s wearing one of his stupid, silly grins. The fluffy cute stupid fucker. “Not yet.”

Katsuki is so going to jump him.

“Send me that video,” he murmurs. “And I’ll send you my address. You better show up or I’ll kill you.”

Deku giggles. “Promise?”

“Yeah. It’s a fucking date, asshole.”

Chapter Text

The video Deku sends is fucking hot.

Katsuki finds himself referring to it constantly. At home, of course. He’s not the kind of idiot to watch at work, no matter how secluded he thinks he is. Only a fucking amateur would do that, and if there’s one thinking motherfucking Bakugo Katsuki Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight is not, it’s an amateur.

He’d be lying if he says he doesn’t think about it, though. It’s why he’s eager to get home for the next few days. Since that one night, he and Deku haven’t had phone sex again, but the lewdness of pictures sent back and forth has increased a marked bit. Deku’s tends to include his toys, all but the largest dildo, because, in Deku’s own words, I want you to see me take dick that big when you fuck me the first time.

Deku is a slut and Katsuki is so here for it.

Even so, the video has sound and movement and Katsuki can’t get enough. Even before he shucks his clothes and grabs his dick, he’s hard just thinking about it. Opens the saved file and presses play.

It’s barely ten seconds, but it’s the hottest ten seconds of his fucking life captured on video. Katsuki is annoyed that his own breaths are in the audio, but they’re faint compared to Deku’s whimpers and the sloppy fucking sounds as his scarred hand thrusts a dildo into his ass. He lies on his back, legs pulled up, phone trembling. The way his hole clenches so wetly around the thin black dildo is hot as shit. So when Katsuki imagines his own dick plunging in… it does him in every time.

He realizes, after this latest session, that he needs to buy more lube. Especially if he’s going to wreck Deku’s ass tomorrow. (Or the next night. Deku might be exhausted and Katsuki knows travel sucks, but he can hope, damn it, while still respecting the nerd’s needs.)

But since he’s going out anyway… well. Maybe Katsuki will provide the nerd a little surprise of his own.

***

The anticipation is killing him.

Katsuki considers himself patient these days. Especially compared to before. But when Thursday evening rolls around, and he’s checking his watch until Deku’s plane lands, he realizes that he’s way more into this fucker than he ever thought.

God damn it. Guess he’s going to have to start dating him.

Katsuki doesn’t even consider that Deku doesn’t want to. Why wouldn’t he? The way that guy came over the phone, the video, the graphic photos… fucking hell. Katsuki’s determined to murder him with sex and affection until the day they die.

His phone vibrates while he’s cooking dinner. Just got my bags, Kacchan. You sure you want me to stay with you?

Ugh, this question again. Katsuki fires off a reply. For the last time, get your ass over and fucking STAY HERE. I’m cooking miso salmon.

Okay, I’ll be there in 30 minutes.

That’s more fucking like it.

Katsuki finishes plating and sets the table just as a knock sounds. His pulse jumps to his throat. The fuck? Why am I nervous now? Stupid Deku.

He manages to control his pace as he approaches the door. Opens it. Gets a good, long look at Deku standing there with a rolling suitcase, a backpack, and a bright flush on his cheeks. Haggard from travel but standing stiff and his eyes shining with a mixture of emotions.

They just look at each other.

Deku swallows visibly. His knuckles whiten as he tightens his grip on his bag. All his bulk remains hidden by casual clothes, but for the glimpse of his calves under those long shorts. Katsuki finds himself staring.

“Hi,” says Deku, his voice cracking.

“Hey,” says Katsuki.

More silence.

Katsuki blinks out of his daze all of a sudden. Curses himself in his head. Throws the door open and spins on his heel. “Well, get in here.”

“Oh—yeah. Pardon the intrusion.”

Fuck. Why’s it awkward? They fucked over the phone, for fuck’s sake, why the fuck is this a fucking issue when all Katsuki’s been thinking about has been fucking Deku?

As Deku toes off his shoes, Katsuki gruffly says, “Just put your shit anywhere. Wash up and come eat.”

A nervous smile breaks out over Deku’s face. “R-right. Thanks, Kacchan.”

“You need a shower?”

“Uh… no, not really?”

Katsuki’s nose wrinkles. “Gross.”

Deku frowns. “I don’t! I had to take a flight from Tokyo to here, and they offered a shower for VIPs—”

“When the fuck did you become a VIP?” The question is out of Katsuki’s mouth before he can stop himself. Shit.

Blinking rapidly, Deku says, “I, um… I think it’s for any hero who makes the top ten.”

Shit. Right. Just because Deku isn’t top ten here doesn’t mean he wasn’t in Canada. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Deku shifts awkwardly and finally sets his luggage near the entrance of the living room. “Uh…”

Katsuki points down the hall. “Bathroom’s that way.”

“Thanks.”

Not until the door closes and Katsuki hears running water does he palm his own face with a loud smack. The fuck? Why’s he so nervous? Fucking nerd is making me nervous.

(Okay, realistically, he knows that the nerves started right when Deku knocked. But damn it, this is freaking him out a little.)

He draws a few deep breaths and centers himself. It’s fine. Fucking fine. So he’s maybe ignored how attractive Deku is their whole fucking lives, from cute chubby-cheeked kid to the solid wall of muscle that’s him as an adult, and maybe the newness of putting a name to those feelings is a little overwhelming. Fucking whatever. He just needs to get a grip and follow through, or his planning will be for nothing.

Katsuki grabs a couple beers from the fridge and sets them on the table by the time Deku returns. They sit without a word and begin to eat. Katsuki cracks open his beer first; takes a few sips. Deku hesitantly follows suit.

“Um… Kacchan?”

“Yeah?”

Deku fidgets with his chopsticks. “Is it really okay that I’m here?”

The food tastes like ash all of a sudden. Katsuki forces himself to swallow and take a good drink of alcohol. Then, in a mutter, he says, “I want you here.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Fucking awkward.

When they finish, Deku insists on clearing the plates. That leaves Katsuki at the table with just his hands to stare at and frustration building in his core. Damn it. What the fuck?

The water turns off. A deep breath sounds.

“Kacchan, I don’t just wanna have sex, I wanna date you and I know that’s super weird and me coming here probably makes that even weirder because it’d be weird to just move in so maybe after tonight I can find somewhere else and we can take things slower if this is too weird and I know I’m the one making it weird—”

The insane torrent of words is like ice water over Katsuki’s head. Shocking his system. He slowly stands, turning to Deku as the idiot clenches his fists and stares at the floor while motormouthing himself to death.

“—and I still wanna do all that other stuff but I also know maybe we got carried away so if it makes things less weird I’ll sleep somewhere else and if it’s not too weird but still kinda weird I can take the couch and—”

Katsuki closes the distance between them. Jerks Deku’s head up by the jaw, just a little, since their height difference isn’t that extreme. The words choke off in Deku’s mouth as he stares up at Katsuki, eyes wide, breaths short and fast.

“Deku,” says Katsuki evenly, “the only thing that’s making this weird right now is the fact you keep saying the word ‘weird,’ so knock it the fuck off.”

Deku’s breath leaves him in a violent expulsion. “Okay.”

Fuck. Katsuki loosens his hold, but Deku’s fists loosen and close around his wrists, holding him there.

“Kacchan?”

“Yeah.”

Deku’s eyes glimmer with renewed determination. “I’m not tired at all.”

A wide, wicked grin breaks across Katsuki’s face. “Good.”

Deku moves fast; arms around Katsuki’s neck, pulling down, kissing him with hunger that far outmatches when he was eating and Katsuki is suddenly ravenous as well. The kiss is awkward and harsh at first, more biting and panting and knocking teeth and noses. But then it just sort of… smooths out. Deku tangling his fingers in Katsuki’s hair. Katsuki grasping one of Deku’s biceps, the other hand on his hip. Mouths slotted together, tongues teasing and twining. It’s warm and good and so fucking much better than any jerking off to each other session, which in itself is… well. It’s saying a lot.

Deku’s the one to break the kiss, moaning when Katsuki keeps chasing his mouth. “Ka… mmm… Kacchan…”

“Yeah?” God damn it, why can’t he come up with another response tonight?

Deku whimpers against the onslaught of wet kisses. “I—mmn… will you… bed?”

Katsuki muffles a snort into the nerd’s shoulder. “Wow. Eloquent.”

“Kacchan.” It’s more of a whine than a rebuke, and it gets his dick twitching.

“Yeah, I got it. I got you.” Katsuki nips harshly at Deku’s lower lip, then licks it. “Did you bring your toys?”

A bright flush colors Deku from crown to below his shirt collar. “Er… yeah…?”

Katsuki can’t help licking his own lips at the admission. Fucking. Hot. “Wanna grab them?”

Deku’s eyes blaze. “Gimme a sec. I’ll meet you in there.”

It’s odd parting after that, and a struggle. Both seem to have a hard time not touching the other, which leads to more making out, and before Katsuki knows it they’re stumbling in the hallway and he’s got Deku pressed up against a wall, moaning while he grinds into Katsuki’s thigh trapped between his legs. Katsuki’s too busy leaving marks all down Deku’s neck to remember that they have plans beyond just this groping insanity.

Somehow, Deku’s the one who remembers. “A-ah… Kacchan, the bed… the toys…”

A long-suffering groan looses from Katsuki’s chest. He leaves one last rough bite at the lower side of Deku’s neck, earning the most glorious gasping whimper he’s ever heard. “Fuckin’ hurry.”

They finally manage to let go. Katsuki retreats to the bedroom before he can change his mind. The sounds of Deku thumping about in the living room makes him snicker as he eases himself on to the dark sheets of his bed. Freshly made, thank you very much.

Deku returns with a small case about the length of his thigh and almost as wide. He sets it at the end of the bed and then looks at Katsuki. Doubt seems to be creeping back in, so Katsuki shifts. Left leg on the mattress at an angle, right foot on the floor, one hand supporting himself while the other casually fiddles with the top button of his shirt. Deku’s gaze sharpens and he inhales a subtle shuddering breath.

“Which way?” asked Katsuki, keeping his voice low. “I-zu-ku?”

A violent shiver shoots through Izuku. “I… fuck me. Please.”

“Then c’mere so I can.”

Izuku all but tackles him onto the bed. Once their mouths clash again, it’s like an explosion of heat and frenzied hands. Katsuki snapping insults as Izuku pops two buttons off his shirt, Izuku muttering about getting him a new one, and somehow Izuku is straddling him, Katsuki’s shirt is still stuck on one arm, and Izuku’s grinding their clothed erections together so hard that Katsuki sees sparks in his periphery.

“Shiiiit,” he moans, his fingers catching at the belt line of Izuku’s shorts. “Fuck. Shit. Stop, I’ll kill you if we come like this.”

Izuku grumbles but complies, though not without a stubborn roll of his hips. “Can’t help it… wanted to touch you for years.”

Katsuki growls and tugs at Izuku’s shorts until the idiot rolls off to kick them free, while Katsuki does the same with his own clothes. “How long?”

Izuku pauses, one leg in the air with his shorts dangling from the ankle. He then seems to remember himself and kicks them to the floor. “I don’t know… since middle school?”

Well, fuck. There’s a lot to unpack there, but Katsuki’s libido and eyes are drawn to the hard-on straining in Izuku’s underwear, a small wet spot beginning to spread.

“On your back,” he says.

Izuku immediately flops over, and Katsuki crawls over him. Rakes his gaze over every square inch. Pictures are one thing, but this… this is Izuku. He can smell cheap soap on him, the aroma of pre-cum, and when his hand cards through Izuku’s hair, it feels wild and a little rough and god damn, the nerd needs conditioner.

Katsuki can show him a couple uses for it, at least.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he murmurs, enjoying the pleased flush in Izuku’s face. “Gonna feel you up a bit.”

“Me, too?”

“Fucking hell, you’d better.” Katsuki lowers his head to Izuku’s chest, delighting in the sudden, quick breaths as he nibbles just below one nipple. Then he licks the spot, nips closer, licks again, and then he just wraps his mouth around and sucks.

A small cry unleashes from Izuku. His hands scrabble at Katsuki’s head for a moment. Then quickly move downward. Over his back, his ribs, and then finding Katsuki’s own nipples by feel alone. A sharp pinch of pleasure jolts through Katsuki and he moans.

“Ohh,” whispers Izuku. “Oh, you’re way more sensitive than me, Kacchan…”

Katsuki grunts and leaves a shallow bite there in petty revenge. Then he’s gripping Izuku’s thighs, pushing them down as he trails his mouth along Izuku’s torso. Over the rippling planes of his stomach, the sharp hip bone there, down his legs and so purposefully avoiding Izuku’s dick pulsing in his underwear.

“Good,” mumbles Katsuki. He fastens his teeth to a soft spot inside Izuku’s leg and bites down gently. Izuku writhes. “You fuckin’ taste good. Lemme suck your dick.”

“God, please,” gasps Izuku.

The permission almost utterly unravels Katsuki’s patience. Somehow, he manages to exercise it and mouth wetly over Izuku’s hard-on. He feels fucking perfect already. And again, seeing is one thing, but to feel, to taste…

Katsuki licks at the wet spot and earns a whimper. So he grasps the hem and exposes Izuku fully. Shit. Shit. Izuku’s so hard, heat emanating from his swollen cock, pre-cum beading and falling freely as his body shudders beneath Katsuki.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for fucking ever,” says Katsuki before taking Izuku in his mouth.

A sharp, loud cry sounds. Izuku’s hands in his hair. Fingers flexing. Katsuki takes a careful descent, literally salivating over every inch of this perfect dick until Izuku is soaking wet and sounds like he’s a thread or two away from losing his mind entirely.

“Kacchan, Kacchan, oh god, your tongue, I just… Kacchan’s so good at this…”

Katsuki resists the rude urge to snort again. He’s barely done anything. Izuku’s got no idea what’s coming.

So he takes his time, licking and sucking his way down, until Izuku hits the back of his throat. A thin, wild cry stutters from Izuku when Katsuki swallows, massaging the head of Izuku’s cock, sucking him in a fraction deeper. “K-Kacchan… that’s… oh god.”

Katsuki pops off to catch his breath. Flashes Izuku a smile that probably looks feral, but Izuku just whines and arcs his hips toward him again.

So Katsuki obliges.

It’s a little game, then, taking Izuku as far in as possible, just barely deep-throating him, and then sliding off while Izuku just slowly seems to lose his grip on sanity. His words begin to make less sense, and his hands don’t seem to know where to go, frantically touching any and every part of Katsuki he can reach. Katsuki tightens his grip on Izuku’s thighs and swallows him down again.

“Fuck. Kacchan, please…”

Oh. He just made Izuku say fuck. Actually got to hear it in the middle of a blowjob.

Katsuki darts back up to kiss Izuku. Shoves his tongue in his mouth, sliding it over Izuku’s so he can taste himself. They’re both rutting against each other now, kissing, panting, heavy breaths dampening the air between them as the temperature swelters.

Finally, Izuku jerks his head back. “Kacchan, fuck me, please please please fuck me. ”

“Hang on,” groans Katsuki. He has to take his boxer briefs off, and then there’s the lube, and god damn it, he’s going to show Izuku a good time if it fucking kills them. “Fucking—shit. Izuku, hold still.” It’s like wrangling a cat, but Izuku does manage to stop jerking his legs free so Katsuki can adjust. “You impatient little fucker, just give me a second.”

Izuku shakes his head furiously. “M’already wet.” Katsuki stares up at him and Izuku looks at the ceiling. “In the… shower…”

“At the airport?”

Izuku turns bright, bright red. “And before washing my hands earlier!”

Katsuki’s jaw damn near falls off the hinges. He pushes Izuku’s legs up and back, and… yeah. He does need more lube, but fuck, the nerd’s ready.

“You horny little shit,” he growls.

“Please,” whimpers Izuku.

Katsuki tongues his lower lip. “Oi. Izuku.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Gonna tongue-fuck you first, that okay?”

Green eyes widen until the whites almost entirely eclipse the irises. A violent shiver wracks Izuku and he angles himself for easier access.

Katsuki dives right in. The lube allows for a bit easier access; Izuku isn’t exactly warmed up anymore, but he’s still slick. Doesn’t taste great, but Katsuki’s not looking for that, he’s looking to shove his tongue in and hear—

“Ohh, ohhhh, my god, Kacchan.”

That.

Katsuki points his tongue, presses in as far as he can. Izuku loses it, shivering and squirming and practically wailing while Katsuki tightens his grip on his waist and lifts Izuku’s ass higher in the air. It has to be awkward as fuck for him, being almost curled in half, but Izuku’s cries are even louder like this, echoing around Katsuki’s head, and the babbling is flooded with words like, “Good, good, so good, oh god, Kacchan, good!” You know. Eloquent language Izuku’s known for.

Katsuki doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed eating ass so much in his life.

Once he’s satisfied Izuku is basically a puddle, Katsuki breaks free and eases him down. Grabs the new bottle of lube—which he thankfully had the foresight to open earlier—and squirts a decent glob of it into his palm.

Izuku glares at him. “I said I already did that!”

“Yeah,” says Katsuki, pressing two fingers to Izuku’s rim. The warm wetness wipes the glower clear off the nerd’s face. “And I’m gonna do more, you impatient shit.”

He presses the fingers in. Izuku’s already on his back, but he somehow seems to collapse. Twisting around on Katsuki’s hand, clawing at the sheets and gulping in air like he’s never had anything up there before. And Katsuki fucking knows better.

“The hell, Izuku,” he breathes, half in confusion and half awe.

Izuku tosses his head to the side and whines. “I don’t—I don’t know! You just… you feel…” He goes stiff suddenly, and then lets out a breathy sound that’s not quite a moan. Katsuki rubs the same spot and gets a similar response that goes straight to his own neglected dick. He palms at it quickly, reminds himself not to get carried away, because he has a plan, damn it.

Finally, dripping sweat, Izuku manages to finish his thought. “Kacchan feels… so much better…”

“Good,” he whispers. Then removes his fingers and fucks them back into Izuku.

Izuku shrieks. Jerks violently and grabs ineffectively at the air. “W-what—Kacchan—”

“God, I could fuck you like this for hours and you’d still be hard, huh?” Katsuki suckles a harsh hickey into Izuku’s inner thigh, then another right above that one, almost at the soft skin joining Izuku’s leg and pelvis. “You sure you want my dick?”

“Yes! God damn it, Kacchan, yes!”

Whoops. Maybe he’s being a little too teasing. Katsuki hums and removes his fingers. Cleans them and clasps the side of Izuku’s face. Rubs his thumb over the smattering of freckles beneath his eye. It’s so rare to see Izuku glare like this, but it’s kind of hot, too. Even with his eyebrows knitted, Izuku looks at him like he’s starving.

“Do me a favor, and I swear I’ll fuck you to death,” hisses Katsuki. Izuku’s eyes brighten and Katsuki lowers his voice. “Get my underwear off for me.”

“Yeah, okay, yeah.” Izuku kisses him furiously, little wet pecks that leave cool spots on Katsuki’s face. “Just—yeah, lemme up.”

Heart thumping, Katsuki moves so he’s the one bent over. Resting on his arms, ass in the air as Izuku scrambles up behind him. He starts to yank down Katsuki’s boxer briefs but then freezes.

Katsuki smirks into his arm.

“Oh,” whispers Izuku. He traces a finger from the small of Katsuki’s back and down, down, then gently presses the flared end of the butt plug. “When’d you… how long… oh, wow, Kacchan, can I take it out?”

He savors the waves of pleasure from Izuku’s little pokes and nudges. “Mm… yeah.”

Izuku prods at it a bit more. Then his fingertips grip the edges, nails almost pinching Katsuki’s ass. The slight pain goes straight to his chest, and he muffles a sound in the crook of his arm. Ah, fuck… I might like pain.

It’s a question for another time, he thinks, as Izuku slowly turns the plug.

“Shit,” groans Katsuki. “Fuckin’...”

Izuku gives a very careful tug. Katsuki can’t help the sudden clench that sucks the plug back in, and Izuku’s panting.

“Kacchan, oh my god…”

And Katsuki learns real, real fast that Izuku loves watching him. The sadistic nerd pulls the plug only part way out, but then will let it slip right back in and then he’ll give a little push that makes Katsuki lose feeling in his neck, his head hanging there as the plug grazes his prostate.

“Oh, wow, oh, god,” mutters Izuku as he repeats the motion. Each little brush of the plug sets off another spark, and Katsuki’s already a fucking inferno from the waves of pleasure coursing through each vein. “Kacchan, I wanna fuck you, too.”

“Pick one, nerd,” he grates out as Izuku presses the plug back in.

Izuku sighs. Then, finally, pulls the plug out. It’s a huge loss that leaves Katsuki grimacing and burying his head in his arms. He can feel the fluttering of his hole, desperate to close around something.

“Kacchan,” whispers Izuku as he drapes himself over him. Katsuki shudders as the very cock he’d been sucking a short while ago prods at his entrance. “Wanna do both.”

Katsuki shakes his head. “The fuck…?”

Izuku tightens his arms so Katsuki’s pressed flat against him. Rocking slightly, the head of his dick pressing so carefully and almost breaching with ease, but then Izuku backs off and just grinds his cock between the cheeks and moans. His hot breath wafts over Katsuki’s shoulder. “Wanna fuck you. Don’t come. Then fuck me.”

That’s… oh.

Katsuki tilts his hips, a smirk tugging his mouth. A bead of sweat drips between his lips and he licks at the salt.

“Fuck me,” he orders.

Izuku doesn't hesitate. Just presses right in.

“Fuck.” It’s definitely Katsuki’s favorite word. The slide in is so hot and Izuku feels thick, feels bigger than he looks despite Katsuki’s prepping, and it’s so, so goddamn good. He shoves back into Izuku, driving him in further.

“Kacchan,” moans Izuku. He lifts up, steadies himself with his hands on Katsuki’s ribcage, gripping hard enough to bruise. “That’s so—ah.”

Katsuki ignores him, just pushes back again until Izuku bottoms out. So full, he’s so full, and his ass feels like the long-standing ache Izuku inspires in him is finally being soothed.

“Soft,” whispers Izuku. He litters kisses and nips across Katsuki’s upper back and shoulders. “So tight. Hot. Kacchan, you feel so good, so fucking good.”

The praise lights something inside him. Katsuki dimly acknowledges that he’ll have a few new kinks to explore with Izuku, but for now…

“Move already,” he bites.

Izuku slams into him. Pitches Katsuki forward, flattening him to the bed. The withdrawal is slow, agonizing, but gives Katsuki time to move his head so he can breathe and assess himself and… shit, why do these sheets feel so damn good on his dick? It’s the most friction he’s gotten since Izuku was grinding on him and oh fuck he won’t last like this.

“Izu—”

The name chokes off in his throat as Izuku’s hips snap. Plows into him. He feels bigger. It’s tighter. The head of his dick slides past the prostate with every damn move and Katsuki’s mind is pudding.

Words aren’t going to happen, Katsuki realizes.

Izuku clutches the sheets at Katsuki’s side, twisting until his knuckles catch under Katsuki’s stomach. Each new thrust blows a little more air out of Katsuki’s mouth. Another sharp moan. Shuddering and trying not to fuck himself further into the sheets because for all Izuku asked him not to come, he is relentless as a top. Grasping Katsuki’s hair. Pulling his head to the side so he can watch him. And it’s sexy as hell, seeing those green eyes darken with lust, how they rove over all of Katsuki, right down to his ass where Izuku’s fucking into him. He looks fierce and unapologetic and it’s shedding light on why Izuku is different from any other extra.

No one respects Katsuki like this. No one looks at him like he’s both a man and a meal, and it's their sole duty in life to consume him. No one could ever look this hot and dark and savagely erotic as Izuku when he fucks him.

Only Izuku.

“Fuck.” Katsuki finally manages to spit a word out. “Izuku, just—fuck. Don’t stop.”

For a moment, he sees a crackle of green lightning lick across Izuku’s skin. Then Izuku does just as asked, only more desperate, almost flattened against Katsuki as he ruts against him, and all Katsuki wants to do is take it, because Izuku’s a fucking beast like this and Katsuki has never been more fucking grateful for waiting to bottom like this his entire life.

“Kacchan, Kacchan,” chants Izuku. His mouth is bitten and full and fierce. “Gonna come in you. Gonna put the plug in. Want my cum in you when you fuck me.”

Katsuki shoves his hand down under him. Grazes his dick and almost comes right there. Manages to clench the base hard enough to stop an orgasm. It hurts, hurts so fucking good, and is so fucking worth it when Izuku presses his forehead between Katsuki’s shoulder blades, pounds in, and screams as he comes. His cock throbs inside Katsuki, and it’s so much hotter now, and Katsuki fucking swears he can feel Izuku just filling him.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He keeps a firm grip on his dick as another pulse of need nearly brings him to orgasm. This is too fucking good.

Izuku moans and shudders atop him. Loud as fuck. Incredible.

Slowly, the two catch their breaths. Izuku moves first; not to pull out, but push himself up on one arm, peeling himself from Katsuki’s back and leaving him cold for a moment. A soft mumble of, “Plug, plug, where’s the plug,” amuses Katsuki.

“Shitnerd,” he says, glancing back and down at him. “Just shove anything from your toy box in there.”

Izuku’s eyes grow as the realization dawns on him. “Oh… oh!” He helps Katsuki up into a kneeling position, not quite pulled out yet. “Yeah, just… just a sec…”

Of course, Izuku has to pull out in order to grab the case. Katsuki stifles a whimper when he does, and then swallows a lewd whine when he feels the cum leaking out.

“Damn, damn,” swears Izuku. The clasps flip open and he all but dumps the entire case onto the bed before grabbing something. “Here hang on…”

Katsuki doesn’t have to ask what it is. The gradual, slowly widening of, pop-pop-pop, into his hole is knowledge enough. Beads. Fucking anal beads.

“You,” he groans, “are a pervy little shit.”

“Yeah,” agrees Izuku, sounding too happy for his own good. “Hmm… Kacchan, can I ride you?”

After that, if Izuku’s got the wherewithal, it’s probably the better choice. Katsuki rolls onto his side, eyes briefly fluttering as the beads press against his prostate. He opens them to see Izuku’s eyes back down at his ass, that stupid nerd face alight with curiosity.

“Hey,” snaps Katsuki. Izuku’s head jerks up guiltily. “You gonna jump on my dick or what?”

Izuku grins. “Yeah. Oh, hang on…”

Jesus, what the fuck is it now?

This time, Izuku is more efficient, grabbing a small vial of lube. “It’s my favorite,” he admits while drizzling it on Katsuki’s cock. “It kinda… I don’t know. I like the slide.”

As long as he can get in that ass sometime this decade, Katsuki gives no fucks. “Bring it.”

Even though he was the one going at it earlier, Izuku is all energy as he lubes Katsuki up. Then smears more on and around himself. Katsuki only gets a brief treat of watching Izuku fuck himself with his own fingers, and then the nerd is clambering onto Katsuki, hand slipping on his waist. His thighs on either side of Katsuki. If he just squeezes…

“Kacchan,” says Izuku, soft and shaky as he lines himself up.

“What?” The reply is absent; he’s just enthralled with the vision of Izuku about to impale himself on his dick.

“I think I like you as a pillow princess.”

Katsuki’s head jerks up as he snarls into Izuku’s shit-eating-grinning face. “Fuck you, you little—shit! ” He can’t even finish the sentence as Izuku sinks down on him. The breach is so fucking tight and Izuku is going so slowly, which is good because he’s red-faced and panting already. Katsuki has to twist the sheets until they tear to stop himself from canting his hips up, because god damn.

“Oh, wow,” moans Izuku. He shudders and stops for a moment, panting. “You’re huge, Kacchan… think you’re bigger than my dildo.”

Well fuck.

Katsuki grinds his teeth in an effort to keep still. It’s so tight, so hot, so fucking amazing that the praise Izuku litters on top of it is just the sea salt perfectly offsetting a sweet dessert.

Then Izuku sinks down more and thought is obliterated. Katsuki’s operating on sheer will, shredding his sheets further, biting his knuckles in a reminder to just. hold. still.

“Kacchan, fuck, wow, Kacchan,” Izuku whimpers. His hips roll a bit, pressing Katsuki in further. “I don’t… I don’t know if— oh.”

He knows that sound, knows it means he’s hit Izuku’s prostate, but he doesn’t know what Izuku was going so say and he latches on to that because otherwise he’s about to fall back on sheer instinct and fuck him.

“What, Izuku?” he asks hoarsely. “Don’t know if what?”

A long keen slips between Izuku’s lips. He shudders. “I… I don’t know if you’ll fit… this first time…”

Well, fuck.

Katsuki grasps Izuku’s hips, stopping him. Their eyes meet, clashing, absorbing, falling into each other until Katsuki leans up and kisses him. Soft. Sweet. Izuku groans.

Still close, his lips brushing against Izuku’s, Katsuki whispers, “Don’t fuckin’ force it. We got plenty of time.”

A choked, happy laugh rumbles in Izuku. “Y-yeah.”

Katsuki hisses as that laugh has a far stronger effect on his dick than necessary. Not just because of the clench, but due to Izuku’s sheer joy.

Fuck. I think I love the bastard.

“Hey,” growls Katsuki. “I’ll go slow, just… lemme fuck you like this. Use your quirk if I’m doing too much.”

Izuku’s eyes soften. “Okay.”

It’s so dramatic, how the mood shifts, but there’s a difference. There’s a difference between Katsuki prepping himself for hours and Izuku doing it in short spurts. There’s a difference between Katsuki getting railed the first time and Izuku taking bigger dick than he’s used to. And there’s a huge difference after Izuku laughs, because it plucks at Katsuki’s worn-out heart strings and the animalistic lust subsides enough for him to remember that he’s going to treasure this motherfucker to death.

So he cants his hips slow; gentle. Eases Izuku off, gradual, and only allows a shallow thrust back in. Cautious. Izuku’s eyes widen and his moans increase with each small movement, and it’s beautiful. Izuku’s pupils slowly enlarge, his breaths shortening with each short, tender thrust. His mouth falls open, little, ah, uhns, falling off his tongue. The heady smell of lube and sex and pre-cum swells in the thick air between them.

“K-Kacchan,” gasps Izuku. His head falls forward, tears gathering in his eyes. “I… so good… god…”

“Izuku,” he whispers, pulling him down for a kiss. Small, steady movements. Slow. Slick. His cock swollen and sliding in and out of the gloriously tight heat that’s Izuku’s ass. It dawns on him that some part of him never thought they’d get here.

Izuku whimpers against his lips. “Kacchan, tell me when you’re gonna come.”

He answers with a moan, grasping Izuku’s so hard it hurts his fingers. Izuku wriggles atop him, little pain-pleasure noises wrangling piece by piece out of his throat. It’s so much and not enough, he wants to possess every part of Izuku, and he wants Izuku to mutually possess every part of him. Katsuki wants… he needs…

“Izuku,” he groans as the frantic heat tightens in his belly. “Close.”

“Yeah,” whispers Izuku, his voice laden with breathless excitement. “Come in me, Kacchan, please…”

Fuck.

It’s so, so hard not to just slam into Izuku. The pleasure is boiling, dying to spill over, but the heat is so, so, so achingly slow to build

but then it does boil over, and he shouts a warning, and Izuku’s arm jerks

and it’s electrifying, how the beads slide right out, one long, obscene series of pops

that smashes into him and Katsuki comes harder than he ever. Fucking. Remembers. Just clenching Izuku’s waist and seeing the skin around them puff and swell and yelling Izuku’s name as he comes inside and simultaneously is melting due to the beads, just seeping into the mattress as his cum spurts and spills into Izuku, the welcoming, blissful heat of his ass.

And Izuku is gasping and babbling, and he’s leaking so freely, and Katsuki realizes that he just had a dry orgasm because his cock twitches and softens but he’s moaning so loud and long that it can’t possibly be anything else. Not humanly possible, at least.

“Kacchan, oh god, oh fuck, yes, Kacchan, so good for me…” Izuku hiccups through his blathering, tears falling freely. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Katsuki moans and reaches up, clasping a hand over Izuku’s mouth, the other cradling his head. “Stop,” he gasps. “Stop crying… gonna make me hard again.”

Izuku coughs and giggles behind his hand. Fucker.

Slow, so soft and gentle, Katsuki comes down from his high. His dick softens and begins to ache. No wonder, with coming the way he had today.

“Izuku,” he mutters. “Off.”

Nodding, Izuku complies. He seems to lose feeling in his legs, though, because the second he pulls out and tries to shift, he yelps and falls over. Right off the fucking bed.

Katsuki groans, this time annoyed. “Dude, seriously…”

“S-sorry.” Izuku chortles and manages to clamber awkwardly onto the bed, snuggling up next to Katsuki. “Just… I never, uh… had a dry orgasm before.”

Even though he shoves Izuku back—it’s too hot—Katsuki feels his mouth curve. “No shit?”

“Yeah,” admits Izuku. He looks a little put out by the lack of cuddles, but still curls up beside Katsuki. “I um… I liked it.”

Katsuki blew out a long breath. “How often you fuck yourself, I’d think you do it all the time.”

Izuku laughs sheepishly. “Um… never was good at getting the angle right, I guess?” His eyes lower, and his fingers trail along the hair on Katsuki’s pelvis. He tries to hide a shiver. Fails. “But your dick, um… perfect angle.”

“Fuuuuck.” Katsuki covers his face with an arm. He doesn’t trust his hands, not until he can wash them. “Shut up, or I’ll fuck you again.”

Deadpan, Izuku says, “Oh, no. Not that, Kacchan. Please.”

Katsuki shoves at his shoulder. “You making fun of me, asshole?”

There’s no bite to his voice, so Izuku grins. “Never you, Kacchan.”

“You—” He snarls and starts to roll atop Izuku, but has to swallow a yelp when his ass throbs, a clear sign of, Not tonight, buddy. Collapsing back to the sheets, he grumbles, “You little shit, I’ll kill you.”

Izuku nuzzles close. Wraps his arm and leg around Katsuki when he doesn’t push him away this time. “Promise?”

Katsuki scoffs and lifts his arm. Looks down at this stupid, smiling nerd who looks both fucked out and like he’s reached the highest, purest gates of heaven.

“Yeah,” he says, pressing a quick, biting kiss to Izuku’s mouth. “I do.”