Work Text:
Izuku blearily stares at the laptop screen in front of him, the only source of light in his dim, small office at the agency he has been working in for a few years now.
He shouldn't even be here right now.
The week had been long; pulling overtime, emergency calls left and right, he has barely slept – barely even had time to shower, have a proper meal, let alone touch the stack of reports and paperwork that has been collecting over time. He can feel the bags under his eyes, catching up on a bunch of paperwork that he obstinately believes he shouldn't be doing. This should be someone else's job, right? All he had to do was the rescuing – anyone can do the paperwork, really.
He's being bratty and there's a mild shame that washes over him for it. The Improper Use of Quirk report on his screen remains blank, like a taunt, and it almost makes him think he'd have picked a different career path if he'd known how much paperwork was involved in hero work. Almost.
Izuku glances at the clock in the top corner of the screen. 10:03. He rubs his eyes. He has been here for thirteen hours. Unbelievable.
He's normally not one for procrastination, but considering how exhausted he was after every shift, it now hit him this afternoon that this particular report is due tomorrow. With a determined huff and a quick overhead stretch of his arms, he gets back to it. He can do this. He can get this report done. It will be fine. It's not like this was a big case or anything. He can do this.
As soon as his fingers touch the keyboard in front of him, his office door is kicked in.
Izuku sighs heavily and shuts his eyes. There's only one person in this agency that would do that.
Katsuki's looming over his desk, gym bag in hand, hair still damp from being freshly showered. Must've been a late night for him too.
“ You look like shit.”
Izuku looks down at himself – still in his hero costume, still not showered, and still dirty from the fights earlier today. Yeah, okay, a fair observation – he doesn't need to be so rude about it, though.
"What are you doing here, Kacchan? I said I was busy tonight."
His tone is flat and grouchy – it sounds unnatural coming from him. He'd probably feel bad if he was talking to anyone but Katsuki.
"I know."
Katsuki drops his bag on Izuku's desk, then unceremoniously drops down in the seat in front of him. He looks tired, Izuku notes.
However he does not answer the question.
"Well, I can't really entertain you until I'm done with this report,” He says, eyes glued to his screen, back to typing before he was interrupted, “But um, I guess you can stick around if you want?" It's a question - he really has no idea what Katsuki really expects right now.
“ Take a break,” Katsuki says, leaning his elbows on the desk, head resting on his hands, eyes peering over the laptop screen. Izuku meets Katsuki's gaze with a hard glare. Despite not being able to see Katsuki's mouth hidden by the screen, he knows his grin is wolfish.
“ I've barely started. And I'm not doing that here,” He responds flatly, going back to typing up his report and making it a point to no longer look at Katsuki – maybe if he ignores him long enough, he'll get bored and be on his way.
“ You'd really rather be doing a report than me?”
“ Oh my god,” Izuku groans, pinching his nose. “Yes, actually – it's more important right now.”
“ A report is more important than me ?”
“ No,” Izuku snaps, “A report is more important than your dick .”
Katsuki lets out an annoyed huff before his face disappears from Izuku’s peripheral.
Sometimes Izuku doesn't believe he landed himself in this position.
Things between him and Katsuki have always been, well, complicated – it got especially more complicated about a year ago. A year? Izuku can't believe that a whole year has almost passed by – and the further complications started with a botched recon mission that proved to be near fatal.
They were teamed up together, much to Katsuki's chagrin and Izuku's excitement - though it turns out sending the infamously moody Ground Zero out for intel was a poor idea. To be fair, Deku hadn't behaved that much better. They were heroes of action; by sticking two 'act now, think later ' heroes together for a mission of surveillance and intel collecting – well, he's not really sure what the agency expected.
They couldn't just sit there when their target appeared – so, why not take him out right then and there? They were capable. They had handled it after some near misses, close calls, and saving each other, which resulted in becoming a mess of tangled limbs in the back of the car they used for surveillance once the mission was over. He remembers a hot mouth on his skin, rutting hips, soft gasps – and possibly the most awkward conversation to follow after.
Oh, and a heavy reprimand from the agency for excessive damages.
Izuku blames the adrenaline. He's not sure why else this would start – whatever this is. This lovers-but-not-really thing. This kinda-friends-with-benefits thing. This definitely-not-boyfriends-but-sort-of-more-than-friends thing.
It's not that Izuku had feelings for Katsuki – not really, anyway. He liked him well enough when he was in a good mood, knew at this point how to manage the bad moods, and he definitely, without a doubt, cared about Katsuki as a friend and person – but the idea of romance was off the table. Which is fine – not like he has time for that anyway.
Katsuki made one thing clear: they are not dating. Therefore, affections are kept strictly as a precursor to sleeping together and they are not dates , Katsuki insists, when they hang out. Which isn't very frequent; usually the objective gets met pretty quickly – Well, was infrequent. There have been more post-patrol late night meals, and the park near their agency has been frequented more, and these hang outs don't always result in sex. Huh, how long has that been happening?
But it is still surprising to see his more-than-friend-but-also-lover-he-guesses in his office seeking attention though Izuku already turned him down. Usually he'll get a text of wyd? followed by a time and place if Izuku responds with a confirmation, and silence if he's busy. Or slammed into the wall in the agency's shower for a quickie if no one was around, which despite his anxiety, he often acquiesces to. There was also the time at the annual Pro Hero Gala that Katsuki discovered the bathrooms had their own individual stalls with thick walls that reached the ceiling and shoved him into one, to which he definitely protested because he was not fucking in a public bathroom. Germs, Kacchan, was his reason, and of course Katsuki made sure to make fun of him and his 'germaphobia' for a solid month after that. But, Katsuki normally takes 'no, I'm busy' or 'no, not now' for an answer pretty well – though lately he has been asking more frequently than usual.
Hands on Izuku's shoulders jolt him out of his reverie.
When did he even get up from his seat?
Katsuki is being particularly persistent tonight, which is treacherous – Katsuki is also a workaholic, also keeps his work life and their affair-friendship-but-not-whatever separate, and also takes no for an answer, so why is he being this annoying for attention? Normally Izuku wouldn’t mind, it's actually kind of rare, but in the middle of work after he told Katsuki to shove off?
Before he can voice his thoughts, Katsuki moves his hands.
Izuku let's out a whimper, both him and his poor, aching shoulders appreciating the touch.
Okay, so maybe the attention wasn't that annoying.
Katsuki's hands are warm – they always are – but right now Izuku can feel the heat seep through his hero costume, through his skin and into his bones. His thumbs dig into Izuku's muscles, the pressure loosening the knots he's been collecting for what feels like forever now. His hands move across Izuku's shoulders expertly, which is surprising to think Katsuki would be good at something as sensual as a massage – but then again, he has to be good at everything.
“ What the fuck have you been doing to yourself?” Katsuki grumbles, digging hard into a particularly difficult knot.
“ It's been a very long week,” Izuku sighs, falling into Katsuki's touch, report temporarily forgotten.
“ Fuckin' tell me about it,” Katsuki mumbles, continuing his ministrations, working his way upward.
Izuku tilts his head forward, giving Katsuki more access to work his neck, his hands still on the laptop keyboard, not moving.
“ You're acting very weird tonight,” Izuku says softly, eyes shut.
Katsuki's hands stop.
“ The fuck? How?”
“ Well, you're being weirdly affectionate for one thing. Also you're usually not this needy for attention?”
His hands are no longer on Izuku, earning a disgruntled noise from the loss of relief.
“ Well, fuck you-”
“ I mean, I don't mind-”
“ -see if I do anything nice for you ever again-”
“ -I like it-”
“ Well too bad for you because I'm not doing it again.”
Izuku moves his head side to side, neck cracking, and silently laments the loss of touch. He rests his head on the back of his chair, looking up at Katsuki towering over him, an annoyed – and is that embarrassment? - look on his face.
“ Finish your fuckin' report.”
An exasperated, whiny noise escapes from the back of Izuku's throat before begrudgingly typing on his laptop again.
He is almost finished with a paragraph when he's being shoved up in his seat, Katsuki sitting behind him, legs bracketing Izuku's and there is barely any room what is he doing -
The zipper at the back of his hero costume is being pulled down.
“ Katsuki! ” Izuku hisses, whirling around to look at him. Katsuki's hands are up in a surrender gesture, but god, his face is so smug, and not for the first time, Izuku wants to wipe that smirk off his face.
“ No more 'Kacchan', huh? Already that pissed off?”
'Katsuki' is usually reserved for two occasions: intimacy and anger. Calling him 'Kacchan' while getting railed proved to be weird for both of them. Calling him 'Kacchan' when he was angry completely lost the intended effect. Calling him 'Bakugou' felt too impersonal – Katsuki made the argument that 'Katsuki' was too personal, but Izuku ignored him until it stuck.
Right now, Izuku is not feeling very intimate. Harassed is more accurate. So, yes, an angry 'Katsuki' it is.
“ I'm trying to get this finished. The sooner I finish, the sooner we can do...whatever the hell it is you want, even though I said I was busy.”
“ I was just trying to make the massage feel better for you.” He sounds innocent. Izuku narrows his eyes, suspicious.
“ I thought you said you weren't going to be nice again.”
Katsuki cocks his eyebrow, a taunting grin still on his face.
“ I'm feeling generous.”
Izuku purses his lips.
“ And you're really gonna say no ? Your back is like a fuckin' bag of boulders.”
Izuku closes his eyes. It did feel amazing. He has been stressed.
“ Fine,” he glares, “but no funny business.” He points accusingly at Katsuki, “I mean it. This is due tomorrow morning.”
Katsuki waves his hand dismissively.
This is probably a bad idea.
Izuku turns back to his laptop, trying to ignore the annoyance behind him and the distractingly slow pull of his costume's zipper. Katsuki's teasing him, attempting to bait him, and Izuku makes a point to ignore him and continue writing.
He skims his report again, muttering before his breath hitches – he's no longer typing and he's not really breathing at all from the contact of Katsuki's too warm hands on his bare skin – they're hot. Almost too hot, but shit if that doesn't feel amazing on his abused back right now. Was that his quirk? When did he learn that?
Katsuki works his hands into Izuku's muscles, the tension melting away, but the report is coming in slower, his mind hazy and writing is a lot more difficult than it should be. He was there on the scene, he apprehended this villain – why is it so hard to think?
“ Seems like you need a little motivation, Deku,” Izuku jumps at the voice in his ear, Katsuki resting his chin on Izuku's shoulder, peering over to the screen – his hands dragging down and holding onto Izuku's bare hips under the costume, a pattern of small circles made with his thumbs.
Izuku swallows, suddenly a little too warm and his skin buzzing - too aware of where Katsuki's hands are.
“ Y-yeah? And what did you have in mind?”
This is definitely a bad idea.
Katsuki's hands - much too hot and much too skilled hands - trail up Izuku's sides, fingers splaying over his ribs, moving to his shoulders, hands dragging down Izuku's arms and the costume coming down partially with them, exposing the skin on his shoulders. The heat from Katsuki pours into Izuku's insides, warming him up, melting his will of tonight's task away and using his hands to mold Izuku how he wishes.
"I have a few ideas," Katsuki's voice is low and husky - used on Izuku when things are getting more heated and knows that, well, Izuku kind of loves it. He's playing dirty and Izuku steels his nerves to not play into this game, an immensely difficult task for his clouded mind.
“ How is that motivation? You're just distracting me," Izuku says, voice much less agitated than he intended – it's shaky and it's weak and Katsuki is using every trick he knows to break Izuku's will. He can't decide if he hates it or not.
“ Think of it less of a distraction and more like an incentive,” Katsuki's voice is so husky and so low and his breath is so hot on Izuku's ear and this isn't fair. This just isn't fair. All he wanted to do was get this damn report finished tonight - not deal with his fuck-buddy-and-perpetual-thorn-in-his-side's bullshit.
“ The sooner you get this done,” His hands wander slowly from Izuku's hips down to his thighs, squeezing, “The sooner you can get rewarded.”
Katsuki's tongue drags across Izuku's bare skin before biting into the flesh at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Izuku stifles a moan, biting his bottom lip so hard he's afraid he may bleed – a jolt of arousal going straight to his groin. No, it turns out, he does not hate this. However, this is not productive in the least.
Wet, open mouthed kisses trail from his shoulder to his neck, a swipe of tongue before Katsuki nibbles at his earlobe. Hands caress his stomach, moving lower and lower until fingers tease the band of his underwear, dipping slightly down, and he stills.
“Every time you stop typing,” Katsuki murmurs against his neck, “I'm going to stop as well. Got it?”
He's so fucked.
Izuku nods, heart pounding, fingers twitching on the keyboard in front of him.
Katsuki's hand dips into the band of his underwear, hand wrapping around his dick and squeezing. Izuku cries out.
Oh, he's so fucked.
“ Oi – I said, 'Got it?'”
“ Yes, ” Izuku chokes out, pressing his hips forward into the touch, his breath labored, and steadies his hands, trying to cut through his arousal to finish this.
“Alright then-” Katsuki removes his hand, slicking his palm with his tongue before pushing his underwear down - giving a slow, firm stroke up Izuku's cock, thumb sliding across the tip before stroking back down, earning a moan from Izuku.
“Get to work.”
Okay - okay, he can do this.
The perp had a uh, a um – god it's so hard to concentrate.
Quirk. He had a quirk. Of course he had a quirk.
What was his quirk?
Right, it was cloning.
And he used it to -
Izuku hisses, Katsuki's nails of his other hand drag up Izuku's side, cutting him from this thoughts, scarred fingers hesitating on the keyboard.
Katsuki's hand also hesitates, his pace on Izuku’s poor, straining cock slowing down.
Fuck.
He used his quirk to rob five banks in the Ebisu area.
Yes, he used his quirk to create five clones and managed to rob the Bank of Tokyo, Mizuho Bank-
Izuku's typing pace is picking up, trying to squeeze out what information he can from his arousal hazed brain – the sooner he gets this done, the agonizing slow pace of Katsuki's hand will speed up and the sooner he'll get to think again.
Katsuki's grip tightens, almost painful – a whine escapes from Izuku's lips, pausing momentarily on the report, his eyes squeezing shut as a shudder racks his body.
“Deku,” Katsuki croons, tongue tracing the shell of his ear, “You're doing so good – you better not stop now.”
The praise shoots straight to his dick – a weakness he has, though Izuku's not really sure what it means to get turned on by any approval or compliment Katsuki throws his way during sex after so many years of tearing him down, but he shoves the thought away, keening, eyes flying open to return to the task at hand.
Katsuki's pace picks up, a small reward for getting back to work so quickly.
“God, fuck– ” Izuku gasps, his fingers shaking with every keystroke. He's not really much of a curser – maybe a 'damn' or 'shit' would slip through when he was caught off guard, but Katsuki knew exactly how to wring it out of him whether it was from sex or pissing him off just right.
“Come on, Deku – you were there. What else happened?”
“ Um, he robbed–”
“ Don't tell me, idiot,” Katsuki nips his ear, “Write it down.”
“ Ah – Y eah, right–”
Izuku is desperately typing – the details of this case slipping, his arousal getting the better of him and he's not even sure how his grammar and spelling are faring out in all of this.
“Are you almost done?”
“ God, yeah–“
“ I mean the report, nerd.”
“ Oh. Um, no.”
Katsuki's hand stills, his pace coming to a complete stop.
Izuku sobs, throwing his head back on Katsuki's shoulder, his body on fire and he's so close it's painful –
“ Tsk tsk, Izuku ,” Katsuki teases, tracing his nose up Izuku's cheek before biting into the soft flesh, “Don't you want to finish?”
“ Katsuki–“ Izuku whines, frustrated, hips undulating and begging for friction, “Come on –“
Katsuki's hand grips a bruising hold onto Izuku's hips, preventing him from moving.
“No, you know the rules.”
“But I'm writing–“ Izuku cries out, frustrated tears pricking in his eyes. He feels like the stupid crybaby that Katsuki teases him about being – embarrassed that a handjob of all things reduced him to tears.
Katsuki twists his wrist as his fist comes down hard on Izuku's weeping dick, Izuku's spine arching into the stroke with a cry.
“You should be done by now. Hurry it up.”
There are times when Izuku finds his overthinking, consistently over analytical brain to be a nuisance - usually when he's at his most anxious and every worst case scenario flashes in his mind one after another.
But right now he's so thankful for it, never being able to shut it down, the page on his laptop filling with details of a case that he only cares to remember right now because it will get him closer to release.
The rhythm of Katsuki's fist is picking up speed, and Izuku isn't sure how much longer he can hold out.
"Send it. You're so close."
"But I gotta edit–"
"Oh, well, don't let me stop you."
Katsuki stops, letting go of Izuku entirely.
"Oh fffuck-" Izuku gasps out, the loss of touch a shock to his system.
"You're such an asshole," Izuku grits out, fingers slamming on the keys to finish this report that he knows will be his worst one yet. Katsuki huffs a laugh, caressing Izuku's lower tummy, causing him to squirm impatiently at the touch, knowing that is not at all going to help Izuku sate his desire. His finger hovers over the 'send' button, licking his lips, hesitating about whether or not the few extra minutes of skimming his report for errors is worth the painful erection straining against the crotch of his costume.
“ You're so fucking hot when you're desperate,” Katsuki whispers in his ear, causing a shudder to rack through him.
Fuck it.
He hits send.
"'Bout fuckin' time," Katsuki smirks, one arm winding around Izuku's torso and pulling him flush against Katsuki’schest as the other grabs hold of his dick. Izuku let's out a choked sob of relief.
His rhythm is brutal and unrelenting, the one that makes Izuku completely unravel, turning him into babbling, incoherent mess. Izuku's arms reach back, gripping onto the back of Katsuki's shirt, hips meeting in time with Katsuki's pumps, and gasping for air.
“ Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki–“ Izuku chants, head arching back onto his shoulder, “I'm gonna–“ A hot mouth on his neck before he let's out a long, loud moan and his body tenses up - muscles taut and vision going white as he rides out his orgasm.
Katsuki pumps him through it, still holding Izuku before coming to a halt when Izuku slumps against him, catching his breath. He removes his cum covered hand and wipes it off on Izuku's costume.
Izuku's head lulls on Katsuki's shoulder, a disgruntled noise escaping his throat.
"What? It's fuckin' dirty anyway."
Ugh, right. He's still wearing his costume. His dirt, sweat and now cum covered costume. He feels sticky and gross. A shower would be bliss right now if he trusted his legs to get him there.
Izuku rests bonelessly against Katsuki, half held up by Katsuki's arm being wrapped around his torso and collects himself. The office is still, quiet - the sound of his breathing the only thing heard in the room.
Izuku noses Katsuki's cheek, kissing his jaw right below his ear. His arms lower from Katsuki's back to his thighs, inching closer to his groin, knowing that he wasn't unaffected by Izuku if the erection poking him in the back is anything to go by. Hands wrap around Izuku's fingers, stilling his actions.
“ Don't worry about it,” Katsuki murmurs, giving his hands a squeeze.
Huh, Izuku frowns – this is also new. Normally Katsuki is greedy for reciprocation - something Izuku is eager to give, but his hands remain on Katsuki's thighs. He straightens himself to sit up and turns towards Katsuki.
"That is the worst report I have ever written."
Katsuki barks out a mean laugh.
"Yeah your ass is gonna get reamed tomorrow. Had a lot of typos in there, Deku."
"And you let me send it like that?!" Izuku is incredulous, “You watched me the entire time!”
"Hey, I said I was gonna motivate you to finish not be your fuckin' editor-"
"Are you ser– you– I can't– ugh! Why are you even here? "
Katsuki shrugs, toying with the zipper on Izuku's costume, "I was bored and didn't feel like going home yet. Plus you ditched me."
"I didn't ditch you, I was busy! So you came here to annoy me?"
"The fuck else is new? Though, you didn't sound very annoyed earlier–"
"Oh, shut up,” Izuku snaps, “You've been acting weird since you showed up. What is with you?"
"Fuck, Deku, can't you just take a handjob without twenty fuckin' questions?"
"Not from you. You always want something from me but you're not this needy about it."
Katsuki grits his teeth, nostrils flaring and Izuku tenses his body preparing to be shoved off the chair - but he isn't.
Katsuki's glaring, yes and he's certainly mad - but he's not looking at Izuku. His jaw is taut and his fingers flex then clench into fists over and over - an audible exhale through his nose before speaks again.
"I saw you on the news.”
“Okay? What does-”
“You barely dodged that pipe.”
"What's your point-"
He stops speaking when he looks at Katsuki – he looks embarrassed. Izuku huffs a laugh. No way.
"You weren't worried, were you?" He nudges Katsuki, joking, and he expects the typical flurry of insults and denial but instead he is met with silence. Katsuki won't meet his eyes either.
Oh.
Katsuki opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it. He looks at Izuku then, his gaze steady and says, “I am capable of that, you know.”
“ Of what?”
“ Worry.”
Oh.
“ I wasn't- I mean, I didn't-” Izuku stops. Katsuki came here because he was worried. Katsuki came to his office because he wanted to see if Izuku was okay. He frowns.
"So you jerk me off because you're worried about me?"
Katsuki rolls his eyes. "I jerked you off to get you out of here sooner."
"Why? You wanted to spend time with me?" Izuku drawls, teasing.
Katsuki's silence answers his question.
Katsuki's worrying was normally hidden under layers of insults, harsh words and actions. “ You better get back up if you can't handle this,” rings in his head. There had been a few lectures about accidentally skipping meals when things got too busy – resulting in perfectly balanced, mystery lunches left on his desk, but he knows exactly who leaves them there. A straightforward approach in telling Izuku he was worried is also new.
Izuku blinks and looks at Katsuki for what feels like the first time. He knows the well of emotion that Katsuki holds runs deep – Izuku has seen it, experienced it, and some cases fought against it – but never have Katsuki's feelings shimmered so close to the surface, especially for him, in such a caring manner.
“ What else are you capable of?” Izuku asks quietly.
Katsuki's expression softens, just slightly, and would probably not be seen as any different from anyone else, but Izuku can tell – he's had more than enough experience dealing with Katsuki's different moods to see it.
He looks at Izuku then - the angered crease in his brow smoothed over, his frown not quite as deep and something in his eyes that Izuku has never seen before: uncertainty. Katsuki is certain in everything he does - confidence exudes from him like a billowing wave, crashing into anyone that tries to deny him. It is one of the features of his personality that Izuku admires the most – envies even.
But right now, this uncertainty, it brings a vulnerability to Katsuki that makes Izuku's insides squirm with fondness.
So softly, with the slightest hint of apprehension Katsuki asks:
"Can I kiss you?"
The question is laughable, really.
Considering what just transpired tonight and what has been happening for the past year now - to ask for permission for something as simple as a kiss seems so funny.
But it's not funny, and it's not really that simple – the question is much more complicated than that, Izuku knows. Kissing wasn't something done flippantly between them – only a precursor to sex. To ask for this outside of that context, well, Izuku understands if he says yes, then there's a line they will be crossing into uncharted territory. Something is shifting, morphing between them – changing into something new and untouched.
The idea of a romance with Katsuki was something he never considered seriously. Didn't think it was possible, really – Katsuki just never seemed like the type to care for it, and Izuku didn't want to waste his time or feelings pursuing something that wasn't there. Which is fine – the sex is good and a way to blow off steam, they get along well enough as friends and co-workers, and it's not like Izuku hasn’t been on dates with others when he’s had the time.
Katsuki hasn't made his heart skip a beat, or create butterflies in his gut, or whatever sappy things people in romance movies or whatever are supposed to feel. He only made Izuku’s blood sing and heart race when fooling around or with the right touch - but now that this was being presented to him, this possibility, it made something in his chest stir. It was nerve wracking and a little anxiety inducing, if he were honest, but Izuku slows his overthinking brain down. It is a kiss, a tiptoeing into something new, maybe, and Izuku isn't sure if he's ready to answer the question right now, but he's nothing if not impulsive.
Izuku bites his bottom lip, Katsuki still waiting expectantly, patiently even – a strange demeanor for him. He looks calm, but Izuku can see the little ticks of nervousness on his face, and he can't help but find that a little endearing.
“ Yeah,” he says, “you can.”
There's a split second of relief on Katsuki's face before he leans in, and as soon as their lips press together, Izuku can immediately tell this kiss is different – it's not rushed or frenzied by being overpowered with lust - it's slow and searching. Izuku sighs into it, enjoying the languid change of pace, and his hand moves up, cupping Katsuki's cheek to tilt his head. Katsuki's breath hitches as Izuku slides his tongue between his lips, meeting him enthusiastically, drinking him in and Katsuki's hands tighten on his hips, pressing himself closer to Izuku. This is nice, Izuku thinks, thumb brushing against Katsuki's cheek and wonders if this was always a possibility. Katsuki nips at his lower lip – much more gently than Izuku's used to, playfully even – and presses one last, chaste kiss before parting.
“ Come home with me,” Katsuki whispers, his hand coming up to stroke Izuku's jaw.
Katsuki's face is hovering so close to Izuku's that he feels his breath as he speaks, sees every little fleck of crimson and amber in his eyes that are peering into Izuku's more earnestly and less guarded than he's used to seeing. Izuku feels a little dizzy, a little giddy – Katsuki's being so sweet and Izuku has no idea how to handle this side of him - it's a little strange, but it's refreshing, new, and Izuku's so curious to explore this piece of Katsuki he has exposed.
“ I mean, if you want – you can say no.” Katsuki follows up, that touch of nervousness Izuku found endearing earlier making another appearance. Izuku bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to grin, knowing that would just piss Katsuki off, but he can't help it – Katsuki's being so, so sweet.
“ Only if I can use your shower.”
Katsuki huffs. “Yeah, you need it. You smell rank.”
Izuku loses to the grin he was trying to fight back, and can't help but laugh. “Doesn't seem you mind too much.”
“ Well, you've always been a goddamn mess.”
“ And here I was starting to think that you were being sweet to me, Kacchan.”
Katsuki rears back, his face red hot and sputtering, “I am not sweet , you shitty nerd. Why the fuck are you so embarrassing?”
Izuku stands from the chair, grinning and ignores Katuki's question with his own, “also, maybe, a meal too?”
“ When did you get so fucking demanding?”
“ That's not a no, then?”
Katsuki's silent, glaring. He rolls his eyes and grumbles something agreeable.
Katsuki's bottom lip is jutting out slightly, pouting, and the only thing that comes to Izuku's mind is cute – not a word he uses very often to describe Katsuki. Izuku smiles, brushing the hair from Katsuki's face before freezing at what a tender gesture that is.
“ Um,” Izuku says after a moment of stunned staring. “Let me change into something, uh, less gross. Then w-we can go?” He stutters out, quickly snatching his hand back.
“ Uh,” Katsuki clears his throat. “Yeah. Do that.”
Izuku nods, leaving his office, making a bee line to the agency locker rooms – his face red, insides squirming, heart pounding, and a grin that would be harder to fight than any villain he has ever challenged on his face. It's a strange feeling for Bakugou Katsuki to be the cause of such a warm, bubbling, sensation inside him but it feels...right, somehow.
He changes quickly, shoving his soiled costume into his bag and making his way out of the locker room. Katsuki is already waiting by the elevator for him.
Izuki nudges him with his shoulder when he arrives, earning a glare before his expression changes into something akin to wonder when Izuku's arm reaches around the back of Katsuki's waist.
"This is weird."
The elevator dings.
"Yeah," Izuku says as the elevator door opens, "But I kinda like it. You're a lot cuter when you're nervous."
"Fuck you," Katsuki says, without the usual heat to it, his ears turning red, and places his arm around Izuku's shoulder, shoving him inside the lift.
Izuku doesn't say anything when his not-friend-but-on-the-precipice-of-something-more doesn't remove his arm from his shoulders.