Work Text:
Katsuki’s fan was broken.
The small, electric one he had gotten as a housewarming present from his mother when he first moved into this apartment, the one fought tooth and nail over on sweltering July days, when the air hung over them like thick fog at the beginning of a new day.
Now, however, it was whirring loudly on the floor of Katsuki’s living room - on better days, the propeller kept getting stuck on the lowest setting, letting out suspicious heaves and grumbles like its last dying breaths, whilst flat out refusing to work the other half of the time. Today was one of those days.
“That’s fine,” Katsuki had told him as he passed by, but Izuku was quick to notice the small beads of sweat accumulating at his forehead. “I’ll just drop it off at Half’n’half’s tomorrow.”
“That’s not very nice, Kacchan,” Izuku replied, but he bit back a smile. He was acutely aware of the time Katsuki’s lamp stopped working and went missing within the same week, mysteriously showing up on Shouto’s dining room table.
Katsuki liked to call it his unconditional generosity, making sure to excessively bat his eyelashes whenever he brought it up. Izuku threatened to call Shouto and tell him the truth, because he was such a good friend, unlike Katsuki who loved to pretend he was, until he got chased around the living room, phone still in hand.
“I’m sure he’ll have a kick out of it.” Izuku heard him slump down onto the sofa, groaning as he knocked his left knee against his back. He couldn’t really see it, but he’d like to imagine Katsuki’s wary glare when his gaze fell on the “waste of space” (his words) sputtering staccato wheezes on the floor.
He ignored the fleeting way his skin burned where Katsuki touched him. The heat lingered on the small of his back, creeping underneath his shirt. Izuku pressed his lips together, lowering his head.
Instead, he turned his focus onto the fan in front of him. It let out a sad wheeze when he picked it up, jumping in his hands. “That’s only because Shouto’s unable to say no to you,” he said, poking his finger at the propeller.
All of a sudden, he felt Katsuki’s foot push against his shoulder blade, almost insistent on making his presence known. It was wholly impossible not to notice him, though, which is why the sporadic increase in pressure almost drew a sputtered laugh from Izuku.
“Quit pretending you’re fucking Mizuno Goro and go shower already.” He pressed down further, until Izuku was hovering just a few centimetres above the machine, feeling the weak gust of air tickle the side of his chin. “You’ll end up breaking it completely with those klutz fingers of yours.”
A small smile worked its way onto Izuku’s face, clement, soft around the edges. Mizuno Goro might’ve been one of the more prominent names when one was to think of the Yuuei Department of Support - alongside Hatsume, Mizuno had gotten scouted almost immediately after entering his first year, way before any of Izuku’s classmates… including Katsuki.
It was no surprise that Katsuki harboured a deep distaste towards the boy, which sprouted a mild, one-sided rivalry lasting a few months between the two.
“How dare he act all high and mighty like that?” he had grumbled, eyeing him from across the cafeteria. “I don’t even think he knows you exist, Kacchan,” Izuku had replied off-handedly, which he later learnt was the one wrong answer to his rhetorical question.
“Breaking something already broken, Kacchan?” said Izuku, purposefully omitting the name of a certain someone, because patrol had already been particularly exhausting, the unrelenting summer heat kept sneaking in from under the window sill, and Izuku was not in the mood to argue about this again.
Katsuki claimed he didn’t even care about Mizuno anymore when Mina brought him up one late izakaya evening, as she gave them a brief rundown of everyone’s lives after Yuuei. Apparently he worked with Fatgum now.
(Katsuki was also a pretty obvious liar, Izuku thought to himself as he nursed a half-empty can of beer in one hand, seeing that he was still bringing him up eight years later).
“I’m sure you’d find a way how,” said Katsuki. “You’re kind of special like that.”
Sometimes, Katsuki said things that Izuku didn’t quite know how to read. Which was impossible, because this was Bakugou Katsuki they were talking about. Childhood best friend, hero partner, his Kacchan, so it was only fitting he knew everything about him. Right?
Izuku wasn’t so sure nowadays. Not after Mizuno’s name kept getting brought up on late, drunken nights and the scowls accompanying it, not after getting surprised by his new hero suit, which Katsuki managed to keep under the wraps for so, so long, not after seeing the look on his face - the way his eyebrows pulled upwards when Izuku whipped his head around, glassy-eyed, with a hand full of spare mechanical bits and an expression too difficult to pinpoint.
“Well, I’m quite certain I would’ve made the support course just fine if it weren’t for All Might,” he muttered, swatting at his foot that was getting dangerously close to making contact with his face.
Katsuki merely smiled, tilting his foot upwards a few times until Izuku finally caught on, and had the gall to look appalled when he grimaced back at him. “Just get going, you delusional freak,” he said, searching the sofa cushions for a fallen remote. When he finally found it, squished between the pillow and the armrest, he held it up and waved it around threateningly. “We’ve been waiting all week for the All Might reruns—”
“Yes, yes,” said Izuku, finally hauling himself off the floor. It was only then that he noticed just how sweaty he was, wincing. As he made a beeline to the bathroom, he wondered why Katsuki hadn’t kicked him out of his apartment yet.
Down the long corridor, second door to the left. Izuku barreled into his small bathroom like he owned the place, hastily locking the door behind him. If taking one’s clothes off was a competitive sport, Izuku would’ve set some kind of national record for just how fast he leapt into the bathtub.
Absentmindedly, he scratched at the thick layer of grime and blood caked under his fingernails, ducking his head under the cold stream of water. He rubbed off the tiny bits of gravel and dirt stuck to his skin, tracing the curve of his bruises with his index finger.
It hadn’t been that long since Izuku had gotten back to hero work, but if there was one thing he didn’t miss about the thrill of the chase, the coursing adrenaline and sweaty, laboured breaths, it would’ve had to have been the aftermath of each fight.
The villains they had run into just a few hours ago had been a nuisance and a half - two physical attackers and a mental one insistent on robbing a bank just south of Ginza. They would’ve probably gotten away with it, too, had Katsuki not spotted the quite unmissable, large fire roaring out the biggest window.
The one keeping watch was the easiest to take out - bless her, she managed to murmur something under her breath before Izuku knocked her lights out. The other two had been a little peskier to deal with, but nothing Izuku hadn’t seen before. Having fought in the war at sixteen had raised the bar significantly. After the three of them had been rounded up into the back of a police car, he was rather pleasantly surprised to have not sustained any major first-degree burns, given the explosive nature of the perpetrator (and his hero partner).
Still, Izuku was careful when his hands glided over his injuries - an ugly purplish blue stretching out across his shoulder, light scratches dusting the wrists. A scrape or two.
He grazed along the ridge of his knuckles, frowning at the warmth spreading across his skin. Turning around, he reached for the shower valve and cranked it all the way to the right.
Now, Izuku wasn’t one for cold showers - he could barely stand it when the water turned lukewarm at Yuuei’s training camp at the end of each day, teeth chattering with clenched fists, as he left the bathroom.
But for some reason, even with the cool water pouring down his shoulders, he only seemed to grow warmer - no, the swelter stirring in Izuku’s stomach doubled, a sudden surge of heat shooting down his spine. It was only then, head bent down and water hanging off his eyelashes, that he noticed the erection he was sporting, much to his utter dismay.
“Fuck,” said Izuku, dragging his fingers through his wet hair. His forehead was burning up. “Is Kacchan’s aircon not working either?”
He tried turning the valve even more, angling the shower head towards his crotch, but the cold water pouring down his legs only prickled more. He hissed painfully, jerking it away with a jolt, but his cock merely bobbed back at him, precum leaking from the tip.
“Shit.” Izuku could do something very bad right now, something that he probably shouldn’t do in his best friend’s bathroom, but if he were being entirely honest, his only other option - returning to the living room with a massive hard-on, didn’t look too enticing either.
He bit his bottom lip, pushing down the shame swelling in his chest as he began tugging down on his dick, heat pooling in his stomach. The water and precum made it easier, squeezing the base of his cock before jerking himself off fast.
The faster he came, the sooner he could begin atoning for his actions in this cramped bathroom before pretending nothing happened, Izuku thought to himself a little desperately. At least, he hoped it’d be that easy.
“Shit,” he repeated, hoping that the running water drowned out his breathy moans that were getting increasingly needier the harder he pulled. Head spinning, Izuku leaned forwards, left arm pressed against the cold bathroom wall. He pushed his forehead against his wrist, biting back a particularly loud groan when his grip tightened, finally spilling into his fist. “Fuck!”
At that moment, two things happened - one, the orgasm hit him so hard he nearly staggered over, using the wall to catch his fall. Two, the dick in his right hand was still undeniably hard.
Well, shit. So now, Izuku was bent over in best friend’s bathroom after having done something very bad, and he was still going to have to walk out into the living room with a massive hard-on. And for what? A quickie in Katsuki’s shower? Izuku was going to hurl.
He stepped out of the shower a little haphazardly, eyeing himself in the fogged up mirror. His face was red, hair disheveled, face still dripping wet… God, Katsuki was going to kill him if he ever noticed, Izuku thought to himself as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, bundling up his hair into a towel.
He thanked his lucky stars that the shorts he brought with him were loose and dark, maneuvering his way back to Katsuki without looking too guilty. The same Katsuki, who was now sitting on the sofa cross-legged and in a loose tank top, a tank top he wasn’t wearing ten minutes ago.
Izuku’s cock traitorously stirred in his pants.
“What’s with the outfit change?” he croaked out, mentally kicking himself for sounding like he’s just run a marathon.
Katsuki didn’t look any better though. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, as he fidgeted with the remote. “Too hot,” he grunted, pushing his head back against the sofa. “The damn AC won’t go any lower.”
“We should’ve gone back to my place,” Izuku said, sitting down next to him. He pulled at the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible. “My air conditioning works perfectly, thank you.”
“Yeah, but does your place have a forty-three incher?” As the TV crackled on, the end of the latest Daikin air conditioner advertisement sounded out its famous jingle (“ba ba ba, Daikin. Perfecting the air.”).
Izuku looked at Katsuki. For a moment, no one spoke (“coming to stores near you”), until he noticed the slight quiver in Katsuki’s bottom lip, and that’s when it was over.
“Shut up!” Katsuki roared, but it only made Izuku laugh harder. He doubled over, nearly plummeting from the sofa if it wasn’t for the strong hand tugging the collar of his shirt. “Get back here, idiot!”
“But it was perfect, Kacchan!” cried Izuku, wrestling his way out of Katsuki’s iron grip as an Onigiri Miya advert began playing (“Man, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” “Well, why not eat our Michelin star onigiri instead?”). “Hey, come on, it’s going to start soon! What was it you said? We waited—”
“All week, yeah,” Katsuki said, kicking his legs up. “You know, it’s no All Might Silver Age, but I’ll take what I can get.”
Izuku shifted on the sofa, not a big fan of how wet the bottom of his thighs were getting. He snuck an inconspicuous glance at Katsuki. “Not really much we can do in this heat.”
And it was true - despite having turned the AC down to the lowest setting, Izuku couldn’t help but get the feeling that the air being wafted around the room was still unbelievably humid. He couldn’t blame Katsuki for changing to something looser, even if it meant shifting in his seat every few minutes.
“Endorsed by the JVA,” the man on-screen said before the screen went black, and the film finally began to play. Out of the corner of his periphery, he saw Katsuki tugging on his top, attempting to create an airflow. If Izuku kept staring from there, he could catch a glimpse of the faint outline of his—
Stop staring, Izuku, he thought to himself a little deliriously, suddenly very conscious of just how close they were sitting. Their knees were barely touching, but Izuku could feel his body heat sticking to his skin. God, was it just him or was it really hot in there?
The opening number of the film was playing, Izuku was aware that it was playing, but he was too flushed to care, the sound distorting as if he’d submerged his head underwater. His breathing hitched in his throat when Katsuki looked over, raising both eyebrows, and in this afternoon light, he looked so—
“Izuku,” he rasped, gaze heavy-lidded and sultry. Izuku felt his throat grow dry, swallowing thickly when Katsuki shifted in his seat.
It- it didn’t sound like Katsuki. His voice was too breathy, intonation too low, gaze too vacuous - and it scared him. Something was wrong, god, something was very, very wrong.
“What—” Izuku’s eyes searched his face for any indication of discomfort or pain, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when he looked down, and to his utter horror, he noticed it. “Kacchan, is that—”
“Izuku,” he repeated, wiping the side of his face with his hand. It wasn’t so visible from this angle and the colour of his shorts did a good job masking it, but when he looked closer, there was no denying the hard outline of his dick pressed against his left thigh.
He thrust his hips up once, twice, cock painfully straining against the fabric of his shorts. “Izuku,” Katsuki breathed out, and he didn’t think anyone’s ever said his name with such want, “‘s too hot in here.”
It was hard to ignore the wet stain forming on top of the tent. It was even harder to ignore the one growing in his pants at the sight.
He watched, half-mortified and half-aroused, as Katsuki smeared the precum with his tip, letting out small, breathy groans that Izuku didn’t think he was ever capable of making.
“Kacchan,” Izuku said brokenly. “Kacchan, something’s wrong.”
“Yeah, ‘s that you’re not on me.” Katsuki lowered his hand, then pressed it over his mouth, face flushing. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, eyelids dropping, “I just… I need…”
Izuku’s mind was reeling, thinking back to all the events leading up to this moment. His morning routine, teaching until the afternoon, getting a late lunch at the nearest konbini with Katsuki… until he finally landed on the patrol. One guy with a fire quirk, another with some kind of strength enhancer, and the girl…
“Shit, Kacchan.” He said his name like a revelation, a strike of lighting. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Do you think that that girl- her quirk—” His breath got caught in his throat, nearly choking on the humidity of the air, which hung thick in every crevice of the room, “do you think it was a lust quirk?”
Katsuki didn’t seem to be listening to him, no, not really, not when he was breathing heavily, panting even, legs spread wide, revealing the not-so subtle curve of his dick. The heat that was uncoiling in his groin had returned by tenfold, but it didn’t tingle like it did before - no, it burned.
An unfathomable, scorching sensation built up in his body. It started in the abdomen and spread through his veins like venom. A jolt of searing pain took hold of his chest, burrowing deep into his ribcage. Izuku gasped for air, sweat rolling down the side of his face.
“We need to go to the hospital,” he said, pushing the sweaty bangs out of his face. “Kacchan, you aren’t thinking straight, and we don’t know the severity of this quirk- what if it’s fatal—”
“Quit fucking mumbling, nerd,” Katsuki groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “There’s… no way in hell I’m being- fuck—” His head fell forwards like its weight was too much to bear, lolling uselessly. A shaky breath escaped his lips, “admitted to a… hah… hospital for being too horny!”
“It’s not about being too horny, Kacchan, it’s—” The words died in Izuku’s throat when he felt a hand placed atop of his thigh. Katsuki’s touch was nothing less than electrifying, hot and intoxicating, and it took everything in Izuku’s power not to crumble right then and there. “Kacchan…”
“Izuku, I…” Katsuki licked his lips, hand faltering. His face was red, blushing almost, but Izuku wasn’t quite certain if it was him or just the quirk. “I’m sorry, I just- we don’t have to do anything if you’re…”
Izuku breathed out, ragged and slow. Their lips were so, so close that he was certain he could taste the faintest hint of Katsuki on his tongue.
He’d seen the fair share of lust quirks up close. If this was just a regular lust quirk, then the next few hours would be indistinguishable from hell - excruciating pain, blistering heat, a risk of dehydration; death would be imminent in only the most extreme cases. But from the way Katsuki was staring at him from under his eyelashes, tongue peeking out from between his spit-slicked lips, Izuku was certain that riding out the repercussions of the quirk was going to be significantly less tempting than riding a certain something else.
“Damnit,” he said and grabbed a fistful of his tank top.
Growing up with Katsuki meant that Izuku always got to keep him at an arms’ length - just close enough to observe, to see, but never touch. Seeing his dexterous hands work their magic on the battlefield was one thing, but having the same hands rake through his hair, grabbing ahold of his face and bringing him closer was another.
His fingers were long and rough, hooking under his jawline and tilting his head upwards to meet his lips. Izuku let out something mildly akin to a whimper, but his newfound embarrassment was quickly swallowed up by Katsuki’s deft tongue, which engulfed him whole.
His cock, still a little sensitive from before, jumped in his shorts when he felt Katsuki’s body on his. One clumsy leg hooked over the side of Izuku’s hip before Katsuki was sitting on top of him, fully straddling him, Izuku’s drunken mind supplied in a rushed fervour, as he felt the weight of his dick rub up against his own.
“Shit,” Izuku hissed as he broke off the kiss, eyes drifting down to their clothed erections. Katsuki, clearly unhappy with the loss of attention, playfully nipped at his bottom lip, dragging out another groan.
Izuku bucked his hips up in retaliation, even if he might’ve been playing directly into Katsuki’s hands, considering the delighted noise that came out his mouth. Thrusting up again, he managed to capture his lips yet again, clashing their teeth together as he drank in Katsuki’s moans, getting drunk on the sounds.
His dick rubbed against his own precum and sweat, desperate to generate any sort of friction against Katsuki’s crotch, aching to be touched, to be sucked, to—
“You’re so wet,” Katsuki observed with a hint of glee, rocking his hips down particularly hard against the bulge in Izuku’s pants. “Haven’t even done anything and you’re soaked.”
His dick let out an embarrassing jolt at being mentioned, twitching in his boxers. Katsuki must’ve noticed, too, because his cocky smile only grew. If Izuku felt a bead of precum trickle down his length, however, he was going to keep that information to himself.
Nipping at his jawline, Izuku dragged his lips down to his neck. “And you’re so annoying,” he murmured, grazing his teeth against his jugular vein. His hands drifted down to Katsuki’s hips, pinching at the sides of his shorts. “Why are you- ah- still wearing pants?”
“Why are you still wearing pants?” Katsuki mimicked, grinding his hips down. He rocked forward, drawing out a groan from the both of them. “Going to lose them by yourself or do I have to do all the work, Izuku?”
His name tasted so good on Katsuki tongue, especially when he stressed every syllable, letting a lazy grin tug on his lips. His breath hitched in his throat as he reached forward, fumbling with his fly. Sweat was beginning to culminate on his shoulders, tickling the back of his neck as he pulled his pants and boxers down, letting his cock spring free.
He was a mess, to put it lightly - Precum dripped from its already swollen tip, pressed flush against his abdomen, wanting, almost begging to be touched.
He thought he might’ve seen Katsuki chuckle at the sight, but it lacked its usual teasing lilt - no, he almost looked… fond, as he ran his fingers down his length, giving it an experimental tug.
The moment Katsuki’s hand made contact with his dick, the heavens opened up; a choir of angels descended from the sky and sang “Kacchan’s touching your cock!” in unison, and the fire brewing in his stomach evaporated, replaced by ardent, unadulterated pleasure.
“Kacchan,” Izuku gasped, biting his lip when the grip around his dick tightened, sending a shooting pain through his body. “Please, I—”
Katsuki’s smile wavered. “Tell me what you need, Izuku,” he breathed out, pressing a kiss just shy of his mouth. “You know that I’d give you anything.”
Fuck me, Izuku’s inebriated and extremely aroused brain supplied unhelpfully. But Izuku couldn’t say that, so he settled for the next best thing.
“You.” In the strong afternoon light, Katsuki looked positively fervid. His red eyes flashed in the setting sun, mesmerising, breathtaking, so, so beautiful. “Kacchan, I need you so bad, I really just—”
His pleas got caught in the back of his throat when Katsuki leaned in again, slotting their lips together until the only noises being drawn out of Izuku were the quiet groans and whines he tried so desperately to hide.
“Oh, Izuku.” A long string of saliva stretched out between them, spit staining Katsuki’s red, swollen lips. His mouth mapped out the muscles of Izuku’s neck, tongue licking along the ridge of his collarbone. “You know you’ve always had me.”
Izuku couldn’t hear what he was saying, didn’t want to hear what he was saying, because he knew deep down that it was only the quirk talking. He saw Katsuki’s mouth open and close, heard him murmuring something as his hands snaked under his shirt, but his head was too fuzzy to make it out.
It was only when Katsuki suddenly lost his boxers that Izuku’s head seemed to clear up, the fog having taken refuge in the back of his mind dissipating for the shortest of moments when his hands reached around to cup his ass, but faltered at the sudden realisation.
“Wait, Kacchan, d’you have lube?” Izuku asked, letting out a jagged breath when he felt Katsuki’s hole ghost his erect cock. He wanted to put it in so bad, thrust upwards and keep fucking into him until Katsuki was an incoherent, blubbering mess, but he restrained himself, knowing firsthand the unpleasant repercussions of no prep.
But when he reached up to tease his rim, his finger slipped in as if it’d done so a thousand times before. Katsuki’s hole, much to both of their surprise, was already dripping wet.
Izuku gaped up at him. Katsuki only looked mildly embarrassed.
“It’s the quirk, shithead,” he gritted out, knitting both his eyebrows together. “Must’ve prepped me or some shit. You can- hah- put it in…”
Izuku couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think, not when Katsuki was hovering over him so enticingly, not when his thick thighs were holding himself up, just centimeters above his dick.
Sucking in a breath, he guided his cock towards Katsuki until his head was prodding at his entrance, blunt and imposing. “Kacchan…” he whispered into the air between them. “Kacchan, I’m going to… I’m…”
“Just put it in already- fuck—!” Katsuki’s head shot up like an arrow, lips pressed together into a wobbly line when Izuku entered in one deep thrust. He placed both hands on Katsuki’s hips and pulled him down, effectively grinding up into him. “Shit!”
“Are- fuck- are you okay, Kacchan?” He licked his lips, aware of just how dry his mouth had gotten. “I can wait if you’re…”
He studied Katsuki’s face, committing to memory the way his eyes squeezed shut, as his face contorted in pain- no- gratification, Izuku realised, when instead of adjusting for a few seconds, Katsuki carefully lifted his hips up, hovering up in the air before slamming back down.
“More,” Katsuki gasped out, letting his head fall back until his hands sat firm on Izuku’s thighs, back arched. “Izuku, god, I need more—”
He looked so out of breath, chest heaving, stuttering, gasping for air, for more, for something that Izuku could provide, could give him, could—
It’s as if a switch had been flipped in Izuku’s head. Tensing the grip on Katsuki’s sides, Izuku shifted on the sofa before thrusting his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper into him. Biting back a badly concealed moan, Izuku let himself succumb to the heat pooling in his body, chasing after the orgasm that had been building up a little too fast.
“I’m, ah—” Izuku gritted his teeth after a particularly deep stroke, revelling in the filthy squelches reverberating across the living room. He especially prided himself in the quiet keen that managed to escape Katsuki’s lips after each bounce. “I don’t think I’m going to last very long, Kacchan…”
Even with all the heat suddenly surging to his head, Izuku didn’t miss the small grin that flashed across his face. “Good,” he sighed, wrapping a hand around his own dick, which had been uselessly bobbing in the air. “We might, shit, be able to catch the rest of the movie after all.”
“Idiot,” Izuku said, having long-forgotten about the film playing in the background. Katsuki smiled down at him, a chuckle morphing into a drawn-out groan.
“Give it to me, Izuku,” he said, pushing further down. “I can- hah- take it.”
Izuku swallowed thickly. Every drunken, half-coherent sentence stumbling out of Katsuki’s mouth was going straight to his dick, and he couldn’t even find the strength within him to care, really.
Placing both hands on his waist, he hauled him off of his cock until Katsuki was pressed flush against the sofa, face in the cushions and ass in the air.
Katsuki, who must’ve been too engrossed in riding the everloving shit out of him, let out a flurry of surprised yet slurred complaints, craning his head over his shoulder to catch a better glimpse of him.
Despite the scowl he was trying to pull, his face was too fucked out to look intimidating in the least, skin too red and eyes too unfocused. His protests were short-lived when Izuku pried him apart, ramming back into him.
“Fuck!” Katsuki whimpered, pathetically clawing at the sofa cushions for any sort of stability. “Shit- ah- Izuku—!”
In this position, Izuku could sink in even deeper, grinding and fucking against his prostate like his life depended on it. Soon enough, the sound of skin slapping and Katsuki’s broken “ah ah ah’s” were the only noises filling the room. He widened his stance, thighs flexing as he continued to pound into him.
“Oh, Kacchan,” Izuku rasped out. “Kacchan, you feel so good- ah- you’re so tight and wet, and perfect for me, Kacchan, god, Kacchan—”
“Shut up,” Katsuki gritted out, wincing at a particularly hard thrust. “Can’t fucking think with all your goddamn mumbling.”
Izuku let out a breathy chuckle. “Sorry, Kacchan,” he said, but frankly, he didn’t sound sorry at all. “You just feel so- ah- good.”
His vision was growing blurry, thrusts haphazard and uncoordinated, desperately chasing after his own orgasm. The heat began to rapidly uncoil in his body yet again, breath growing ragged, short, strained.
“I’m ah- I’m going to—” He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that from the way Katsuki’s hole had been milking him so far, he wasn’t going to last any longer. But then - an ultimatum.
Katsuki clenched around him.
“Inside,” he gasped, and that was all it took for Izuku to come undone, spilling inside of him in thick ropes. Both Katsuki and Izuku groaned in unison as he rode out his orgasm, languidly rolling his hips and fucking the cum back into him.
Panting, Izuku leaned towards him until his chest was pressed right against the curve of his back. He snaked a hand around Katsuki’s neglected cock, and like the good friend he was, he started jerking him off fast.
Katsuki let out a surprised moan. He turned his head around, eyes half-lidded and forehead damp, whining when he missed Izuku’s lips. Izuku was but a man - he gave in almost immediately, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long before Katsuki was coming, too, painting Izuku’s fingers with his white, sticky cum. Izuku was almost disappointed to be the first to pull away, saliva dribbling down his bottom lip as he shifted upwards, unaware that he was still balls deep inside of Katsuki.
“Fucking- watch it!” Katsuki hissed, scrambling to prop himself up.
Izuku winced, slowly pulling out. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. He looked down at him, still a little disoriented. “Are you- are you okay?”
To him, Katsuki looked more than okay - he looked divine. Splayed out across the couch with his legs apart, cum trickling down his inner thigh, back muscles flexing under his loose tank top - he looked no less than ethereal.
“I fucking hope so,” he grumbled, dragging a hand over his face and rubbing at his eyes. He pulled his hand down until it rested over his mouth. “I do feel colder.”
Come to think of it, the suffocating heat that had been following him around like a hawk had quietly slipped out the backdoor, leaving Izuku to stew in his sweat and guilt alone. His muscles were sore, aching with every breath he sucked in, but at least he could breathe without feeling like his lungs were on fire.
“Yeah,” he said, searching for his boxers. “Yeah- I- me too.”
“And I’m here!” The television blared unexpectedly, and Izuku nearly toppled off the sofa at the sudden spike in noise. Katsuki’s head whipped around, blanching at the sight, and lo and behold, he found himself face to face with All Might, who had been staring directly at the camera.
“All Might!” Izuku shrieked, now genuinely scrambling from the sofa in hopes of covering up his lower half which was still very, very bare. Grabbing a hold of the remote control, he hastened to increase the volume, nearly hitting Katsuki in the process. “I can’t believe we- after waiting all week—!”
“This channel does reruns of reruns, doesn’t it?” Katsuki asked, but he sounded unconvinced. Even he was sitting up a bit straighter, eyeing the television screen as All Might managed to hurl a number of villains into oblivion. “Stupid fucking quirk.”
Having scoured the mess Katsuki called his couch, he decided to give up on searching for his boxers in its entirety, falling back against the cushion with a sigh. “I’m glad this is all it took, really,” he said, running a hand through his wet hair. “Can you imagine if we…”
Katsuki looked over at him, an incredulous grin spreading on his face - the rare kind, where his eyebrows raised ever so slightly and eyes crinkled at the sides. “It just- it kept going?” He leaned towards him, biting back a laugh. “One of us falls into a medically induced coma from all the fucking.”
“Who- who knows!” Izuku puffed up his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing, because he was above this. “You didn’t know the severity of the quirk… it could’ve been, oh, I don’t know, days of—”
“Hardcore, unadulterated sex,” enunciated Katsuki in the most annoying voice ever. He grinned, knowing that Izuku was struggling to keep a straight face. “You know, I wouldn’t mind. Or whatever.”
It would’ve been hilarious, just how fast Izuku’s suppressed grin turned into a frown. “I did think to myself, Kacchan - maybe we should talk about it. Just maybe, since we just, well, fucked, for the lack of a better term, a little talking would be beneficial.”
“I think you captured it quite beautifully.”
“Thank you. But as I was saying—” Izuku looked over, his words betraying him. “I don’t know, I guess I just thought it would’ve been deeper, somehow. Stop looking at me like that.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “Do you want it to be deeper?” he asked, then gestured to himself lazily, “because shit, Izuku, I’m sweaty and tired, and still have your cum in my ass, and we already missed like twenty minutes of the film - I don’t really know if you want to keep going—”
“I think this channel does reruns of reruns,” Izuku repeated, then sighed. “We should talk about it, Kacchan. I think it’s unavoidable at this point.”
“Fine,” said Katsuki. He drummed his fingers against the armrest, then nodded to himself, as if building up to something.
Izuku’s expression turned sympathetic. He brought it up, so it was only natural that he were to take the reins - for his and Katsuki’s sake. “Kacchan, I think that—”
“I’m in love with you.”
Anything that Izuku wanted to say didn’t come remotely close to…this.
“Eh?” he said intelligently.
“Since we were fourteen.” Katsuki looked away, then let out a long exhale. “Yeah- uh. So that’s that out of the way, I guess.”
Izuku couldn’t think. It must’ve still been a side effect of the quirk; these hallucinogens were really strong, huh? It’s almost as if his best friend had just confessed to him. Crazy stuff. “You uh- you say that like it’s old news, Kacchan.”
“When you’re in love with someone for that long…” he trailed off, then grew uncharacteristically quiet. “And now this happened… Izuku, I’m really sorry.”
“You couldn’t have prevented being caught in the crossfire,” Izuku told him kindly, because it was true. Neither of them knew what exactly her quirk was - Izuku even considered her being quirkless for a moment, but then again, why have the quirkless villain keep watch?
“We should’ve gone to the hospital, though,” said Katsuki. “I just- I feel like I have taken advantage of you.”
Izuku gaped. “Don’t say that!” he said, indignant. “You haven’t- I mean- it was the quirk.”
He wasn’t going to admit just how many times he might’ve caught himself staring at Katsuki’s summer hero costume, and imagined things that not even a truth quirk could get out of him.
Katsuki snorted. “The quirk.”
“Well, it’s true,” said Izuku, then settled back down on the sofa. Some car chase was happening on-screen, a car chase Izuku had watched a billion of times when he was younger. He turned away from the television. “You love me.”
“There must be an echo in this room,” Katsuki mused. Izuku looked at him pointedly.
“And you’re gay.”
“I look straight to you?!”
“I don’t know!” Izuku raised both hands up defensively, as if trying to pacify a rabid animal. “You’re Kacchan! You look like the type to stay exclusively single because you insisted that relationships slowed you down or something.”
“Given that I’m fourteenth in the rankings,” Katsuki muttered under his breath with a snort. Izuku didn’t know what to make of that.
“You know, I haven’t really given romance a second thought back then,” he confessed, placing both hands on his thighs. “High school and all of that.”
“Oh my god, Izuku, you can just say you don’t feel the same way and move on, I promise.” His tone was teasing, a little exasperated even, but the smile on his face was stilted somehow. A little too tight. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I have a point with this, I swear,” said Izuku, glancing down at his feet. “I never really felt the need to look for girlfriends or- or a partner, I don’t know - and then we graduated and I guess I just—
“I didn’t go out looking for “love”, because I felt like I already had everything I needed,” his eyes drifted off to Katsuki, “right here.”
“Izuku,” said Katsuki quietly.
“You’ve always been by my side and I got so used to your presence, to your support, to you, that I just… I didn’t need anything else. I had you and that was,” a laugh bubbled up in his throat, “that was more than enough.”
Katsuki’s lips were pressed firmly together, as if he were scared to make the next move. Waiting. Like he always had, Izuku realised a little belatedly. Always waiting, waiting for him.
“Kacchan, I—” Izuku shook his head, sweaty curls flying across his head. “I guess this is my roundabout way of telling you that I’m sorry for taking so long.”
“C’mere, nerd,” was all it took for Izuku to crawl back to him, an awkward tangle of limbs until he was just centimeters away from his face. From up close, Izuku could count the number of eyelashes on both of his eyes. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Izuku said, feeling the tips of his ears redden. “Can I kiss you for real this time?”
“He’s so shy about it, too,” Katsuki teased, gently cupping the sides of his face as Izuku leaned in, closing the gap between them. It was clumsier than the previous ones, chaste and nervous, but rather perfect in its own way.
And when All Might’s booming voice echoed from the speakers again, Izuku pulled away just a bit, eyes falling on his lips.
“Reruns of reruns,” Katsuki reminded him, breathless.
Izuku smiled into his skin. “Sounds good to me,” he said, and pressed their lips together again.