Chapter Text
Katsuki and Izuku's relationship was built by their fists.
And that's just how it is, they fight and fight and fight and hurt and hurt and hurt until they don't know what they are giving for. Neither of them questioned this; their relationship was weird, both parties knew that, but to them at the moment it seemed perfect.
Izuku, he just enjoyed having Katsuki's hands all over his body. It had come to the point where he would purposely rile him up so that Bakugo would hit him, and he would be content, because that was all that Izuku needed. He needed Katsuki all over him; he needs to CONSUME KATSUKI. And if this was the only way, Izuku was not complaining.
Izuku knew he was a sick, he knew he was a sick bastard, but gosh, if this was a sickness, he wanted to be sick forever. Izuku knew it wasn't right, a boy wanting another boy to touch him all over, hurting him, but also loving him? It was disgusting, and he knew once Judgment Day came, God would turn him the other way.
But God, the closest Izuku would ever feel to heaven is when he and Katsuki are sparring and Katsuki finally finally pins him down and holds Izuku's hands over his head but GOSH it felt so good he wanted more and more and more-
Katsuki's sweat would drip down into Izuku's face, and he would open his mouth as slightly as he could don't be obvious don't be obvious please let some drop into his mouth; he needed moreand more and more-
He was sick. Izuku was so very sick.
Every night he prayed, let this feeling go away, let me stop wanting him, please God, please-
He would attend church, sit at the front pew with his mother and just feel gross and disgusting because all he could see in his head as he recited the lords prayer over and over was katsukis hands the burn of his quirk, the sweet taste of his sweat, the way he would whimper slightly every time Izuku "accdiently" ran his hands through his hair-
It never worked
The next morning, he always found himself getting slapped by Katsuki, and he would let out an exhale of relief because the scratch had finally been scratched, and it felt so good he just wanted more and more~
Maybe this was a trauma from middle school, maybe he's just a sick masochist, but he wanted more, not just hurt.
Izuku didn't just want Katsuki to hurt him; in the deepest of the nights, he wanted Katsuki to hold him softly with care. He wanted Katsuki's pink lips kissing him all over, and he wanted to mark his pale, pure PERFECT skin. He wanted to hold Kastuki's slim waist, and he wondered if he was sensitive there? were WOULD he be sensitive, maybe his chest? his neck-
Izuku's love was sick.