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“Fuck off, Deku,” Katsuki snarls, ripping his arm out of Izuku’s grip. “I didn’t ask for your help!”
He storms off and Izuku watches him go, running a gloved hand through his wild curling hair, still windswept from the earlier fight. It’s not that he expects a “thank you”—he didn’t become a hero for the praise—but, still, it would be nice if Kacchan would at least acknowledge the fact that Izuku saved his life. Again.
Shaking his head, Izuku turns back to the citizens they’d just saved to make sure they’re okay but they’re already being given shock blankets and ushered towards the back of an ambulance by a handful of other heroes, so he heads in the direction Katsuki took off instead. The adrenaline is wearing off fast, leaving Izuku with the sort of bone-deep fatigue that means he’ll be sleeping at least ten hours tonight. Internships have been absolute hell this semester. Even worse, he and Kacchan ended up at the same agency again but this time without Todoroki as a buffer. To say it’s been tense is an understatement.
When Izuku makes it back to the dorms he immediately heads to his room and flops onto his bed, too tired to even shower.
Today had been particularly grueling.
Kacchan was absolutely reckless during the rescue, upset that Izuku has apparently been “hogging the spotlight for weeks”. And then Kacchan went and nearly got himself captured by the villain, as if Izuku would let that happen again. He’s honestly surprised he didn’t pass out from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through him when he’d snatched Katsuki back, pulling him behind himself instinctively. That particular gesture had gotten Izuku an earful later on. He groans into his pillow just thinking about it.
Did no one ever teach Kacchan how to say thank you?
Izuku stares at the ceiling. He’s known Kacchan practically their entire lives and he still can’t think of a single time he’d thanked someone. Sure, he’d shown his gratitude in other ways, but saying the words would be as good as admitting he’d needed help, and that was the one thing Kacchan would never do.
Maybe that’s why Izuku can’t stop thinking about it, mind turning in circles as he tries to conjure up scenarios of how it’d happen, each more unlikely than the last. What expression would Katsuki make when he says those two little words? Would he blush, humiliated at having to stoop so low as to thank Deku for saving his life?
Izuku licks his lips at the thought, shifting slightly on his bed.
But no, that doesn’t seem like Kacchan.
The scene changes in his mind’s eye. This time Katsuki swaggers up to Izuku with the same effortless confidence he’s had since they were kids. He takes one look at Izuku with those sharp, red eyes and knows exactly what he’s thinking. Izuku has never been good at keeping secrets, especially from Kacchan.
“Don’t tell me you’re waiting for me to thank you, nerd,” his imaginary Kacchan scoffs. They’re in a deserted hallway in the dorms, and it takes no effort at all for Katsuki to shove Izuku back into a wall and corner him like prey. Katsuki leans in close until Izuku can feel the tickle of his breath against his cheek, and smell the sweet tang of Katsuki’s sweat. His lips are curled in a victorious smirk, the cocky one that makes Izuku want to punch him as much as praise him. He can feel their chests brushing with every one of his ragged inhales as Katsuki whispers in his ear, “You know I’d never do that.”
Izuku opens his eyes, not sure when he’d closed them, and is horrified to find that he’s hard. But it can’t be because he’s thinking about Kacchan, right? Of course not. It’s just been a while, that’s all. Shifting around to get more comfortable, Izuku palms himself lazily through his pants and lets his mind wander again.
Of course Kacchan wouldn’t make it easy, even in the privacy of his own mind.
Did Izuku really expect Katsuki to seek him out so they could have a heart to heart? That’d only happened once and had resulted in extensive property damage and a couple days of suspension. So no, it’d definitely take something more dramatic to get Katsuki to show some gratitude. Real gratitude at least. It’s easy enough to picture Katsuki mocking him.
“Pervert,” he’d laugh, glancing down between their bodies at Izuku’s cock, shamefully hard in his uniform slacks. He’d be at Katsuki’s mercy, wedged between the wall and the hard press of his body.
“You really want to hear me say it, huh?” Imaginary Kacchan says, and Izuku’s cock throbs a little. Now that he’s really thinking about it, he kind of does want to hear Kacchan say it. And not just to anyone—he wants Katsuki to say it to him.
How many times has he saved Kacchan’s life? He’s risked everything for him, and it’s not like he’s asking for much. Just a simple and sincere thank you. Doesn’t he deserve that?
“How do you want me to thank you, Deku?” Katsuki asks, dragging a hand down Izuku’s torso, palm hot through the fabric of his uniform shirt. He keeps going, down down down, until he reaches Izuku’s belt, then he leans back and stares Izuku in the eyes, lips still fixed in a smirk.
Izuku shoves his hand down his shorts, letting out a groan of relief when he finally gets a hand around his cock. There’s no denying it anymore: he’s jerking off to Kacchan. But not even the guilt of thinking about his childhood friend like this is enough to stop him.
“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Kacchan asks, but even though it’s exactly what Izuku wanted, somehow it’s still not enough. He pants, eyes shut tight, no longer fighting the sinful pull of his imagination. In his mind, Katsuki slowly sinks to his knees. “Or do you want me to show you?”
Even in his imagination Izuku can’t keep his composure. His voice comes out hoarse and breathless as he looks down at Katsuki and says, “Show me.”
Kacchan does, undoing Izuku’s belt until it falls to the floor with a dull thunk. He peels Izuku’s pants and boxers down to his knees, and lets out a breathy little moan when Izuku’s dick bobs in his face. He doesn’t hesitate, licking up the side before taking the head into his mouth, holding Izuku’s gaze the entire time and looking so cock hungry that it takes everything in him not to cum from the mental image.
“Fuck,” Katsuki says as he pulls off with a wet pop. The sound makes Izuku’s toes curl, “you’re big.” Izuku can’t help but moan. Kacchan’s mouth is shameless. Katsuki grins up at him mockingly, rough hand working his dick, squeezing just the way Izuku likes. “Big cock for a big shot hero, huh, Deku?”
It’s like a line straight out of a bad porno, but it gets Izuku so hot he almost can’t stand it, legs trembling as he reaches down and threads a hand through Katsuki’s hair. The real Kacchan would probably blow him up for doing that, but this imaginary Kacchan just leans into the touch like a cat, grin softening into something approaching a genuine smile as he stares up into Izuku’s eyes.
He looks so grateful to be on his knees playing with Izuku’s cock.
“You’re my hero, Deku.”
Just like that Izuku cums, harder than he has in months, all over his hand.
When Izuku wakes up he’s a mess. His hand is still shoved down his shorts and coated in dried cum, and he smells disgusting. He rolls out of bed and cleans his hand off as best he can with sanitizer and tissues. Grabbing a spare change of clothes, he hurries out of his room to the baths.
By the time he’s clean and dressed in his uniform, he’s running late. Izuku laces up his red shoes, swings his backpack over his shoulder, and runs to class. As he rounds the corner, he switches to power walking while Iida cheers him on from the doorway.
When he finally walks into the classroom with minutes to spare, Kacchan looks up from where he’s seated, feet propped up on his desk, chair balancing precariously on its back two legs. Their eyes meet and Katsuki immediately narrows his into a glare. Izuku thinks about last night and breaks into a nervous sweat, heat creeping into his face as he averts his eyes and shuffles over to his desk.
He doesn’t even manage his usual “good morning” as he takes a seat behind Katsuki, too busy not thinking about Kacchan saying thank you, Kacchan on his knees, Kacchan with Izuku’s cock in his—
“You have five seconds to be in your seats,” drawls Aizawa’s voice, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts.
Everyone makes it to their desk in three and lessons begin.
He almost makes it through the day without embarrassing himself.
Almost.
“Young Midoriya!” All Might calls, walking toward him with Kacchan in tow. Izuku freezes, wondering if it’s too late to abandon practice and flee to the dorms.
“A-All Might, Kacchan,” Who really doesn’t look happy to be there, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, scowl fixed on his face, “did you need something?”
All Might lets out a boisterous laugh that’s cut off by a bloody cough.
“Young Bakugou and I were just discussing the benefits of having a sparring partner.”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “And I already told you, I don’t need help from a damn nerd!”
Izuku’s jaw flexes a little as he clenches his teeth, annoyed. It’s not like Kacchan’s saying anything he hasn’t said a hundred times, but it still stings. Not to mention he definitely needed help yesterday, but reminding Kacchan will just upset him further.
“It’s alright, All Might. I don’t think sparring with Kacchan would help either of us,” he says with a nervous laugh, hoping that’s the end of the conversation. But when has Izuku ever been that lucky?
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Deku?” Katsuki demands, striding over and getting right up in his face. “You think I can’t show you a thing or two?”
Izuku pushes away thoughts of exactly what Kacchan can show him and waves his hands in front of his face, warding off Katsuki’s advance.
“I just meant, you already work so hard, Kacchan, so—”
“HAH?! YOU THINK I CAN’T HANDLE A LITTLE EXTRA SPARRING WITH A SHITTY NERD LIKE YOU?!”
“That’s not what I…” But it’s already too late. Kacchan won’t rest until he’s proven his point, and Izuku finds himself being dragged away in the opposite direction of the dorms, further into the forest surrounding them. He shoots a desperate look over his shoulder at All Might, but the man just gives him a thumbs up and a toothy smile.
Sometimes Izuku really wishes All Might wasn’t so invested in his and Kacchan’s friendship.
Once they’re in a secluded area a ways away from the dorms, Katsuki lets go of him and turns to face him. The way they’re positioned across from each other reminds Izuku of their fight at Ground Beta. Back then Kacchan had come out on top, but Izuku wonders how they’d end up now.
“You ready for this, Deku?” Katsuki asks with a smirk.
No, Izuku thinks, but he readies himself anyway. He knows from experience that Katsuki won’t wait for an answer.
Kacchan rushes toward him, bolstered by an explosion, knee outstretched and aimed at Izuku’s stomach. Izuku activates One for All just in time to dodge to the side. He pivots to face Kacchan again, fists up, ready to launch an attack of his own when he sees Katsuki stumble as his feet touch the ground.
Yesterday he’d taken a hit to the leg, but throughout the rest of the fight Kacchan hadn’t given any indication he’d been injured, and he’d shrugged off the medics that’d come up to them after the villain had been arrested. Apparently the injury is worse than Izuku thought.
He frowns, taking a step forward, hand subconsciously reaching toward Katsuki.
“Are you okay, Kacc—”
Katsuki whirls on him with a furious expression, palms crackling.
“Oh fuck off!” he roars, charging forward again. Now that Izuku knows what to look for, he can see the slight limp in Kacchan’s gait. When Katsuki’s close enough, he swings a fist at Izuku’s face. Izuku ducks under the hit, leg sweeping out before he even thinks about it. Katsuki jumps to avoid it, but when he lands on his injured leg again, he nearly falls.
“Kacchan, stop it!” Izuku says, voice caught somewhere between anger and desperation. Why is he always like this? Why does Izuku have to beg Katsuki to let him help? Is it really so hard for him to swallow his pride?
“I already told you, Deku!” he shouts, coming at Izuku in a whirl of jabbing, smoking fists. He avoids using kicks, which makes his attack pattern far too predictable for Izuku, who’s been watching Katsuki fight since they were four years old. “Mind your own damn business! I don’t need help from fuckin’—”
Before Katsuki can even finish his sentence, Izuku seizes both of his arms by the wrist and yanks him in close, yelling in his face, “WHY CAN’T YOU EVER JUST BE THANKFUL?!”
For once Katsuki actually looks startled, eyes widening and explosions waning. Soon the only sound is their breathing, coming out in pants from the fight. Izuku thinks he sees vulnerability in Katsuki’s eyes, but in a blink it’s gone.
He yanks his wrists out of Izuku’s grip and shakes his head.
“Thankful? You want me to be thankful?” Katsuki leans right into Izuku’s space and lets out a mean laugh. “What? You expect me to grovel?” Izuku opens his mouth to deny it, but Katsuki cuts him off, tone dripping with derisive sarcasm. “You’re right, Deku. Thank you so much. What would I do without you around to keep me safe?”
Izuku’s mouth goes dry and he can feel his heart beating hard against his ribcage. He knows Kacchan is making fun of him but his body doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Blood rushes to his head and then seems to do a U-turn and go directly south.
“Kacchan…” he says, not sure if he wants to tell Katsuki to shut up or keep going.
“... fuckin’ looking down on me,” he continues, oblivious to the flush on Izuku’s face. “You think just because you’ve got a fancy quirk now that you’re better than me? You expect me to kiss your ass just because you’re not total deadweight anymore? Well news flash, Deku, I—”
Katsuki’s furious expression falters as he takes another step forward, then glances down. His gaze snaps back up to Izuku’s face, and his own cheeks flush red.
“What the fuck?” he shouts, “Are you hard?!”
“That’s…” Izuku racks his mind for an excuse, “...just from the adrenaline.”
The excuse sounds weak to his own ears, and one look at Katsuki’s skeptical expression confirms that he doesn’t believe the lie either.
“Don’t tell me,” Katsuki says, and to Izuku’s horror he can see Kacchan mentally piecing it together, “you’re hard because I thanked you?” He asks like it can’t possibly be true, but even as he says it there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. The same one Izuku jerked off to last night. Izuku feels embarrassment crash over him like a wave; it’s not like he wants to react like this.
Katsuki’s face is smug with the knowledge of yet another thing he can make fun of Izuku for. Izuku clenches his hands into fists at his sides.
“Is that why you wanted to become a hero so bad? ‘Cause you’re some kind of freak who gets off on it?”
Izuku knows Kacchan is just lashing out, acting like a brat to hide his own insecurity, but he’s reaching the limits of his patience. He’s done nothing but protect Kacchan their whole lives, even before he had a quirk to do it, and Katsuki still has the nerve to give him attitude.
“Shut up,” Izuku says quietly, practically trembling with anxiety but emboldened by the burning feeling in his chest nonetheless.
For a second Katsuki just stares at Izuku like he’s been slapped before saying dangerously, “What did you just say?”
But Izuku doesn’t back down. He uses OFA to shove Katsuki back against a tree, birds fleeing from where they’d been sleeping in the branches. Kacchan looks like he’s about to start yelling again, but Izuku cages him against the trunk with his own body, shocking Katsuki into further silence.
“I said be quiet, Kacchan.”
Izuku doesn’t raise his voice; he doesn’t have to. They’re practically chest to chest, the position eerily reminiscent of his fantasy last night, except in reverse.
Izuku knows he should step back, play it off like a bad joke, then make his excuses, run back to school, and hope and pray Kacchan never brings it up again. But the air is charged with something, and Izuku can’t bring himself to look away from Katsuki. He’s much prettier when he’s not glaring or scowling.
“You should thank me,” Izuku says, not sure where the words are coming from. He wants to take them back, but they continue to spill from his lips like he’s been holding them in for a long, long time. “I saved your life yesterday.”
Katsuki stares at him in disbelief, speechless. Izuku leans closer and Katsuki shrinks back for once, black skull t-shirt catching on the bark of the tree behind him.
“I could have escaped myself,” Kacchan protests, but Izuku doesn’t want to hear it.
“Then why didn’t you?” he asks. Katsuki is silent, and it gives Izuku a sick sort of satisfaction to see him humbled. It’s something he never thought he’d want. Kacchan is his image of victory; he never gives up and he never stays down. That’s what’s so amazing about him. But somehow when Kacchan is losing to him it’s different.
“You know what else, Kacchan,” he says, too far down this path to turn back now. They’re so close their noses almost touch. He’s surprised Katsuki hasn’t tried to blow him up yet, but he still seems frozen by Izuku’s audacity. “I saved your life before that too. Who do you think came up with the plan to grab you and escape at Kamino?”
That finally makes Katsuki falter, averting his eyes to the side so he can glare into the trees.
“You had to know it was me,” Izuku adds, “I told Kirishima to reach out to you because I knew you wouldn’t take my hand.”
Katsuki won’t look up at him. His mouth is tight at the corners as he says, “I don’t owe you shit.”
Izuku grabs him by the chin and forces their eyes to meet. Katsuki’s face is red from anger, or maybe shame, and Izuku can feel the flex of his jaw beneath his fingers as he grinds his teeth.
“Not even for saving you in middle school?” Izuku asks, and Katsuki’s breath catches. Izuku shouldn’t be saying any of this but he can’t stop. Back then Kacchan had left him alone in a silent show of gratitude, he knows, but it isn’t enough. The truth is it’s never been enough.
Katsuki’s face flushes even more, and Izuku can’t help but think about how pretty he looks flustered.
“Keep dreaming,” Katsuki says, but Izuku can practically taste his embarrassment at what they both know to be true. “All Might saved me.”
“Don’t lie, Kacchan,” Izuku says. He feels dizzy with the sweet smell of Katsuki’s skin, the warm press of his body. He knows Kacchan can probably feel how hard he still is but he doesn’t care. “You just don’t want to admit you needed help. My help.”
Katsuki tries to shake his head, but he’s still caught in Izuku’s grip, so he bares his teeth instead.
“I didn’t.”
“You did, Kacchan. The look in your eyes was begging me to save you.”
Katsuki’s exhale is shaky, and Izuku can feel it tickle his lips.
When did they get so close?
“I don’t beg,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sure anymore and his pupils are so wide there’s hardly any red left ringed around them. Does Kacchan secretly like this?
Izuku decides to find out.
“Kacchan,” he whispers, the fingers curled around his jaw loosening into something more tender as he cradles Katsuki’s face. Katsuki doesn’t move when Izuku leans in or when he kisses him. He’s stiff as Izuku presses him back against the tree, like he’s never been kissed before. Maybe he hasn’t, Izuku thinks, and he feels something possessive well up inside him. He wants to be Kacchan’s first and his last; he wants to be Kacchan’s everything.
For a moment Izuku thinks Katsuki won’t respond, but then his hands come up to grip Izuku by the biceps and he kisses back. At first tentatively, then with more confidence as he mimics what Izuku is doing, learning fast because Kacchan is amazing. And why didn’t Izuku think about kissing Katsuki before? They’ve wasted so much time fighting when they could’ve just been doing this.
By the time Izuku pulls away to breathe, Kacchan is pink all the way down to his chest, breathing hard. He looks dazed.
Izuku kisses him again. He’s never been that into kissing, but Kacchan seems to like it from the way he’s clinging to Izuku without even realizing it, making little desperate noises as Izuku sucks on his tongue.
He runs his free hand up the back of Katsuki’s t-shirt, tracing the length of his spine with his index finger. At the ticklish touch, Kacchan arches away from the tree trunk, pressing right up against Izuku with his perfect body. Izuku can hardly believe he’s never noticed how good Kacchan looks, but now that he has he can’t stop staring, can’t stop squeezing Katsuki’s waist just to savor how tiny it feels between his hands.
“You better not tell anyone about this, Deku,” Katsuki threatens breathlessly as Izuku tilts his head and trails kisses down his neck, sucking a hickey just below his collarbone as the hand on his back slides lower to squeeze Katsuki’s ass. Kacchan’s so small here too, only a little more than a handful, and Izuku’s mind immediately thinks of how Katsuki might look bent over, struggling to take his whole cock.
“I don’t know, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, brain fogged with hormones as he recklessly nudges Katsuki’s legs further apart with his foot. He settles between them, pressing their hips together and dropping his forehead to Katsuki’s shoulder. “You’re not asking very nicely.”
“Go to hel—” he doesn’t finish his insult, husky voice breaking on a moan as Izuku rolls his hips deliberately, stifling his own groan into Katsuki’s shoulder as their cocks rub through the fabric of their pants. The friction is almost painful as Izuku grinds against him with bruising force, but Kacchan seems to like it rough, and it’s too good to stop.
If someone had told Izuku shutting Katsuki up was this easy, he would’ve cornered him ages ago.
“So sensitive,” he murmurs, lifting his head so he can watch the way Katsuki’s mouth hangs open as he pants, lips parted, pink and wet from Izuku’s kisses. His hips buck against Izuku’s almost mindlessly as he chases his pleasure. Izuku thumbs his lower lip, tracing the curve of his mouth. The look in Katsuki’s hooded eyes says he wants to strangle Izuku for the audacity, but also like he’s feeling too good to stop long enough to do it.
“Just shut the fuck up, Deku,” he groans, but Izuku can tell from the way he squirms that he’s into this. He’d been so afraid of Izuku looking down on him and now he’s getting off on it.
“I don’t think so, Kacchan,” Izuku says. “Maybe I’ll tell everyone in the class how easy you are,” he adds, pretending to think about it as he pushes his thumb into Katsuki’s mouth before he can protest, running the pad of his thumb over the soft, pink flat of Katsuki’s tongue. “That should teach you some humility.”
Izuku withdraws his thumb from Katsuki’s lips, meeting the blond’s eyes as he slips it into his own mouth and sucks it clean.
“You wouldn’t,” Katsuki says, but the look on his face is unsure. Not that Izuku can blame him. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of talking to Kacchan like this, but now Izuku has to admit he kind of likes it.
“Want to find out?” he asks, grinding their hips together again slowly just to watch the way Katsuki’s eyelashes flutter. He doesn’t mean it, of course; he doesn’t want anyone else to see Kacchan like this, ever. But he knows he has to push if he’s going to get Katsuki to give him what he wants. He’s stubborn like that.
“So, what,” Katsuki says, and Izuku can see his resolve beginning to crumble, “you just want me to say thank you or some shit?”
“No, I want you to say thank you and mean it.” Izuku watches Katsuki’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, and he knows he’s got him right where he wants him. The hand still on Katsuki’s ass slips around to cup his cock through his sweatpants, and he gasps. “I know you want that too,” he adds softly, like they’re sharing a secret. “You don’t have to hide it from me, Kacchan. Go on and say it.”
Katsuki’s nails bite into Izuku’s arms, and he ducks his head a little, not meeting his eyes. Izuku thinks he might’ve pushed him too far but then Kacchan says, in the smallest voice Izuku has ever heard him use, “...thank you.”
Izuku isn’t prepared for the way the words go straight to his dick and make him moan. It’s so much better than any fantasy he could have imagined: the nervous hitch of Kacchan’s breath, the shy way he glances at Izuku from under his pale eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Say it again,” Izuku demands, breathlessly, squeezing Katsuki’s cock through his pants as a reward. The blond pushes his hips into the touch but doesn’t try to make Izuku go faster, letting him do what he wants. Deep down Kacchan has always been such a good boy. Izuku’s known that all along. “I want you to look at me.”
Katsuki hesitates again, but Izuku is patient. He presses a kiss to the corner of Katsuki’s jaw, then under his ear. Katsuki shivers and the hands on Izuku’s biceps slide up to clutch his shoulders, then higher to bury themselves in Izuku’s hair, and he finally lifts his eyes to meet Izuku’s gaze head on. Katsuki licks his lips, opens his mouth, then closes it again, jaw clenching. Izuku slides his hand under Katsuki’s shirt, palm warm against the chiseled planes of Katsuki’s stomach, waiting.
“Thank you,” he says, voice thick but begrudgingly sincere. His lower lip pushes out into a pout, too soft to be considered a scowl, “for saving me.”
Finally, some gratitude and acknowledgement. Izuku could end this now, stick his hand down Kacchan’s pants and give him what they both want. But now that he’s gotten a taste of gratification, he can’t help but want more.
“Humility looks good on you, Kacchan,” he praises, and Katsuki glares at him but seems pleased by the compliment in spite of himself. “I want to hear it again.”
“I just said it two times, stupid Deku,” he snaps as Izuku slides his hand higher, palming the curve of Katsuki’s pec. God, Kacchan is so perfect. “ ‘m not just going to keep—ah! Deku, you—” Izuku rubs his thumb over Katsuki’s nipple and, even though he can only vaguely make out the shape of his hand underneath the black cotton of Katsuki’s shirt, it’s easy to imagine Kacchan’s tiny, pink nipples hardening under his fingers.
“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku mumbles, back to kissing his neck as his other hand joins the first, pushing Katsuki’s shirt up until it bunches under his armpits, leaving his chest and stomach bare to the chilly night air. He gropes Kacchan’s chest shamelessly, feeling like he might cum in his pants from this alone. “You just sound so pretty when you say it.” Izuku is aware he might be starting to babble but he can’t help it, not when Katsuki keeps grinding against his thigh and arching his back with these bitten off gasps whenever Izuku pinches his nipples. “Makes me so hard.”
“You’re gross,” Katsuki says breathlessly but he’s just as hard as Izuku, and when Izuku starts sucking another bruise into his neck Katsuki curls his fingers tighter into his hair, holding him close. “Just hurry up and get me off—”
“Then keep going,” Deku pleads into his neck because he loves this. He loves it even more than he thought he would. Kacchan needing him, thanking him. Everything was worth it. He’d do it all a thousand times over if it meant getting to have Katsuki like this again.
“Fucking thank you,” Katsuki practically spits, no longer being nice about it, but Izuku doesn’t care. As long as he keeps saying it. One of Izuku’s hands leaves Kacchan’s chest and slips down the front of his sweatpants instead. No underwear. Izuku groans at the realization, wrapping his scarred hand around the smooth, hot shaft of Katsuki’s cock. Kacchan’s kind of slutty, Izuku thinks. This whole time he’s been mouthing off to Izuku, fighting him, when the tiniest wardrobe malfunction would’ve exposed his most vulnerable parts.
“Thank you so—oh shit, Deku!” Katsuki lets go of his hair to dig his nails into Izuku’s back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as Izuku strokes him slowly, taking his sweet time. He can feel the tremor in Kacchan’s thighs when he smooths his thumb over the wet, leaking slit.
“Have you ever done this before, Kacchan?” Deku murmurs, working his way down to Katsuki’s balls and giving them a squeeze. Kacchan groans, jerking his hips up into Izuku’s touch as he leans back more heavily against the tree like it’s the only thing keeping him standing. “I figured with your quirk you might not have wanted to risk it…”
“S-shut up,” Katsuki breathes, but there’s hardly any viciousness to his words now. Kacchan’s too distracted by the pleasure, and his head lolls back against the tree trunk as Izuku starts jerking him off fast enough for the wet slap of skin to be audible. “Just don’t stop. Oh shit, yes, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop, nerd—”
Kacchan’s so hard in Izuku’s hand, so horny for it. He’s hot like this, all desperate and sloppy, clinging to Izuku like he’s all that matters. Izuku grinds against Katsuki’s thigh, humping him like a dog, but Katsuki doesn’t seem to notice or care about anything except the hand on his dick.
“I won’t,” Izuku promises breathlessly, sweat making dark green curls cling to his forehead as he continues jerking Katsuki off and rutting against him like the world is ending. “I swear I won’t, Kacchan. Not gonna stop ‘til you make a mess all over yourself.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki groans, “that feels so…” He’s slumped down enough for Izuku to press their foreheads together, and Izuku stares into Katsuki’s eyes as he keeps touching him, driving him higher and higher. “Deku,” he says, and his voice breaks, “you’re gonna make me cum…”
As soon as he hears those words, Izuku’s orgasm hits him like a Delaware Smash to the gut. He’s not even sure what kind of sound he makes as he cums, hips jerking against Katsuki’s hip. He half expects Katsuki to make fun of him for cumming first, but if anything he just seems more turned on, squirming restlessly against Izuku.
“Deku, fuck, you said you wouldn’t stop, you idiot…” Katsuki practically whines, and Izuku finally comes down from his orgasm enough to remember how to move his hand. He watches through lidded eyes as Katsuki thrusts up into his fist with increasing desperation as he strokes up and down lazily.
“That’s it, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs under his breath, twisting his wrist with every stroke now. He doesn’t even really know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on memorizing every detail of Katsuki’s sweaty, flushed, pleasure-slack face. “You’re so perfect, so pretty. Kacchan’s amazing.” His words almost slur together, breathless and feverish. “I’m gonna protect you forever. Never gonna to let anyone or anything hurt you ever again.”
“Deku, I’m—!” Katsuki chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. Izuku smells smoke and, judging by the heat he feels along his shoulder blades, it’s coming from Katsuki. He nearly burns through the fabric of Izuku’s shirt as he cums with a hiccup and a sob, voice climbing to a higher pitch than Izuku expects. His spent dick twitches as he watches Kacchan shiver and twitch from the aftershocks of his orgasm, a dazed look in his eyes as he blinks them back open. He has no right to be so cute.
For a second they just stand there, holding each other and panting as a brisk night breeze rustles their hair and chills the sweat cooling on their skin.
Kacchan is the first to break the silence.
“Holy shit,” he says. The usual anger is completely gone from his voice. Instead Kacchan almost sounds happy, a testament to how fucked out he really is.
“Yeah,” Izuku replies, but his afterglow has already faded and the anxiety is starting to set in. What happens next? Do they go back to the dorms and pretend this never happened? Should Izuku ask if Katsuki wants to do it again sometime, or would that make him seem too eager? After all, Kacchan did call him gross and a freak earlier, so maybe he won’t want to—
“Hey, Deku,” Katsuki says, finally straightening out of his slump. He shoos Izuku’s hand away from his dick, wrinkling his nose at the mess of drying cum on Izuku’s hand. Katsuki tucks himself back into his pants then smooths down his shirt. Izuku takes that as his cue to step back.
“Y-yes, Kacchan?”
Katsuki gives him a thoughtful look that makes Izuku blush, self conscious. He has no idea what he looks like right now; probably a mess. Katsuki smirks when he realizes he’s made Izuku flustered.
“Do that again tomorrow, and I’ll be as grateful as you want.”
The words send a thrill through Izuku.
Maybe next time he can get Kacchan on his knees.