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Izuku’s body slammed against the locker doors with a painful thud, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. The few students leaving for the day had already dispersed, leaving the corridor eerily quiet. A sharp, ear-splitting explosion of sound filled his ears, followed by the sting of Katsuki’s fist connecting with his cheek. Blood instantly dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision and adding to the pounding ache in his head.
He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blood from his eyes, but the pain made it impossible to focus. His heart hammered in his chest as tears pooled in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks. His sobs came in ragged gasps as he struggled to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. The weight of the situation pressed on him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.
Katsuki stood over him, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem angry or frustrated like usual. Instead, his face was blank, almost devoid of emotion. It was unnerving. Izuku’s brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. Katsuki’s stance was stiff, but his eyes were locked on him with a strange intensity.
“It’s too bad,” Katsuki mumbled, his voice almost monotone, as if he were speaking to himself rather than to Izuku. His words sent a chill down Izuku’s spine. “You’re taken,” he added, his voice cold, detached.
Izuku blinked, confusion clouding his thoughts. What was he talking about? Taken? By who?
Before he could ask, Katsuki’s words sliced through the silence again, sharp and final. “By me.”
Izuku’s breath hitched. His mind was racing, trying to process what Katsuki had just said. The words seemed impossible to grasp, like they didn’t belong in this world. His eyes widened in disbelief and a surge of panic shot through him. He tried to speak, to shout, to do anything, but his body betrayed him. His mouth went dry, and his voice was lost in the fear constricting his throat.
Katsuki’s gaze softened for a split second, but it didn’t make him feel any less terrified. In fact, it made him feel more vulnerable, as if he were being studied, inspected under Katsuki’s cold, calculating eyes.
Izuku trembled, barely able to hold himself upright as he stared up at Katsuki. Every part of him screamed to run, to escape, but there was no place to hide, no way to fight back. Katsuki was standing above him, his presence oppressive, and Izuku was completely at his mercy.
All Izuku could do was sit there, trembling, staring up at the boy who had just claimed him with those two simple words.
Katsuki crouched down, his movements slow, almost deliberate. His hand reached out, and before Izuku could react, his fingers were gently cradling his face, tilting it upward. Izuku’s heart skipped a beat, his chest tightening. Katsuki’s touch was so different from what he was used to—the roughness, the force, the anger—this was something else. But it wasn’t comforting. It was wrong. It was suffocating.
Izuku’s eyes flickered to Katsuki’s face, searching for some sign, some trace of the anger or fire that usually burned in his gaze. But there was nothing. Katsuki’s smile, though soft, felt like an eerie mockery. It didn’t bring warmth or safety. It only made the air around them feel thicker, more oppressive.
Katsuki wiped the blood from Izuku’s cheek with his thumb, and the contact burned. Izuku winced, his skin stinging from the touch. The burn was sharp, far too intimate.
The moment felt like it was stretching out forever, the world around them silent, too silent. Izuku’s breath quickened as Katsuki leaned in closer, his lips brushing against his. A soft kiss, but it felt like ice. Izuku’s whole body went rigid, paralyzed by the shock of it, by the overwhelming sensation of being trapped in this moment.
Katsuki’s lips lingered for a moment too long, the kiss completely devoid of any tenderness, leaving Izuku feeling exposed, violated. His chest felt tight, his throat dry, and he could do nothing but sit there, frozen in fear. There was nothing. He was completely helpless, caught in the hold of someone who, just years ago, he had considered a friend.
Katsuki pulled away slowly, but his gaze never left Izuku’s face. His fingers stayed on Izuku’s jaw, a silent, possessive grip that made Izuku feel even smaller, more trapped. Izuku’s breath was shaky, but the words he wanted to speak caught in his throat, leaving him silent, lost in the haze of fear and confusion.
Katsuki rose to his feet, his hand slowly dropping away from Izuku’s face. As he stood, Izuku’s eyes caught something that made his stomach twist—a faint blush on Katsuki’s cheeks, something that didn’t belong. It was almost imperceptible, but there. A crack in his usual tough exterior.
Katsuki glanced down at him, but his gaze never quite met Izuku’s. Instead, he looked away, his tone harsh as ever. “Clean yourself up, Izuku. You’re a fucking mess.” The words came out like a command, like he was speaking to someone beneath him.
The words stung, but it wasn’t the harshness that hurt the most—it was the way Katsuki acted as if nothing had happened. He was already turning away, heading toward the exit of the hallway without sparing Izuku another glance.
As he sat there, blood still dripping from his face, his gaze followed Katsuki’s retreating form down the hallway.
Izuku let out a quiet hum, his head resting against the cold lockers behind him, the metal surface cool against his skin. His eyes closed, and he allowed himself a moment of stillness, letting the overwhelming sensations from earlier wash over him.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his shaky hands rub against the outline in his pants.