Archive of Our Own

    Katsuki's bleary eyes wake to the sound of his phone vibrating. Again. He thinks about chucking it across the room because it won’t fucking stop. But he just got a new phone two months ago, and even on his fledgling hero salary, they aren't cheap.

    Katsuki's red eyes squint at the phone light blinding him, and he sees that he just missed a call from fucking Deku. Why did that asshole have to call him—what? Fucking seven times? And eleven texts?

    Katsuki looks at the texts first. He needs a goddamn minute before he calls Deku back and chews him out. Little fucker should know not to call in the middle of the day after a night shift. They had each other's schedules for training. So someone better be dying. Katsuki glances at the screen. Realizes he needs to scroll back.

    As Katsuki reads the desperate messages his curiosity skyrockets. Deku certainly is insistent that Katsuki not look at the picture. What could it be?

    His phone buzzes again. Katsuki boils over. He answers the phone in a sleepy-hoarse scream. "THE FUCK YOU KEEP CALLING ME FOR, SHITNERD? DIDJA KNOW I WORKED LAST FUCKING NIGHT?"

    "Oh."

    That's all he had to say? Oh? FUCK that.

    "Oh? Oh?! You called me seven damned times . Seven! No, fuck, eight. I'm not awake enough to do fucking math because I've been asleep three and a half hours, you piece of shit!" Katsuki growls out every word, voice tapering to an exhausted huff at the end and cracking with the dryness of his throat.

    "I just..." Deku tapers off, hesitant and nervous in a way he hadn't been in years toward Katsuki. "Delete the picture? Ok? Please, Kacchan?"

    "The fuck is it you're so afraid I'll see?"

    Katsuki could hear the wheels turning on the other end. Whispers of muttering. It’s tempting to hang up and look at the picture just to spite Deku.

    "It's a—” Deku says, soft and breathy—"It's a dick pic. Please, please just delete it. I didn't mean to send it. Honest."

    Katsuki's quiet on the line. Long enough that Deku talks again.

    "Kacchan?"

    "Why'd you even take a dick pic?" Katsuki asks slowly, wondering against all of the scenarios that would lead to Midoriya fucking Izuku taking a picture of his little cock. "Who's it for?"

    "Kachaaaan," Deku whines.

    The sound makes Katsuki grin, and the sick pleasure of making Deku squirm bleeds into his voice. "I'm not the one who fucked up here. You are. You owe me something. Answer me."

    "It's for...um...this...person I met," Deku says, voice weak and squeaky enough to convey his stress.

    "Not a fucking answer," Katsuki grumbles. Fuck, he’s so damn sleepy. He flops over, laying the phone on the top of his face as he tries to find a cooler spot on the bed. "Try again, Deku."

    He hears Deku gulp on the other end. "Uh, I…”

    "Fucking spit it out. I wanna go back ta sleep," Katsuki says, voice fading in the presence of Deku's unremarkable progress.

    "Kita-san and I are—ugh. You wouldn’t understand. Why do you even care?" Deku says, defensive enough to pull Katsuki back from drifting off.

    "Because it's too fucking easy to rile you up," Katsuki says with a yawn. "I'm feeling fucking gracious today. So I'll tell you what, Deku. I'll delete the pic if you do me a fucking favor. No questions asked. Just show up at my place tomorrow."

    "Uh...deal?"

    Katsuki lets out a tired, husky laugh. "Good."

    He hangs up. Katsuki licks his teeth and tugs at his hair with a groan. He never promised not to look. The curiosity picks him apart behind his closed eyes until he can’t stand it. His thumb hovers over the link to unlock the picture. He has a security app on his phone that locks images on the off chance that a fan gets his number and sends him something he does not want to see. Twice was enough for him. Fans are fucking crazy.

    Katsuki clicks the photo. And...holy fuck. Not a dick pic. A full-on erotic nude.

    Katsuki's eyes follow the lace stockings up to Deku's groin, cock fully erect and leaking with a ring around the base. And a fucking plug in his ass, shiny with lube. Katsuki tears his eyes away and runs them up the bruised, scarred expanse of Deku's abdomen. Muscles as thick and strong as Deku’s spirit. Katsuki feels his mouth water. Deku's arms are stretched up to the headboard of his bed, framing his wanton face. Eyes with a glaze, tongue peeking out, face full of flush.

    Katsuki agreed to delete this? Shit. How did something like this even exist? Deleting it would be a crime. He never really looks at Deku in a sexual way. A foggy glass wall in his mind suddenly shatters. How could he not notice Deku is this fucking attractive? How did he assume that Deku would be boring and vanilla, wouldn't be to Katsuki's ravenous tastes, wouldn't be able to meet Katsuki blow for blow in a sexual arena? How has a muttering, nervous nerd turned into this belladonna without Katuki seeing it?

    For the first time in a while, Katsuki wants something he isn't sure he can have. Isn't sure he deserves. Even with the whispers of self-doubt that haunt him, Katsuki has always gotten angry enough to blast through challenges and come out on top.

    Deku has always fucked up Katsuki's expectations. Why is Katsuki even surprised? He tries to sleep again, but for almost an hour the lascivious image of his childhood friend burns at his eyelids and makes him itch with arousal. Exhaustion finally claims him, and he falls into a luscious dream that would vanish when his alarm rips him once more from sleep.

    Katsuki isn't sneaky. He is blunt, in-your-face honest. Never spares feelings. Rarely considers an alternate perspective and bulldozes through any emotional hurdles he is meant to jump over.

    That approach won’t work here. The normal methods never work with Deku. Katsuki remembers beating Deku down in school only for Deku to rise up and shine like a sun. Nothing stops Deku from achieving his goals. Not even Katsuki striving to beat him. Karma's a bitch like that.

    He and Deku battle for their place in hero rankings. They alternate between pulling each other up and kicking each other down to take the lead. Katsuki hates it and thrives on it all the same. Drinks in the competition. He wants to be better than Deku, more than he ever did with All Might. Katsuki wants to outshine the sun.     

     Katsuki lets his current worldview fall apart between sips of scalding green tea. The painful stretch of change feels different this time. With one photo, cracks bloom in his consciousness. Soon the wall he constructed to keep lust for Deku out will crumble entirely in his mind. Katsuki slowly comes to terms with the facts he finds on the other side of that wall.

    Deku isn't the sun. Deku is Katsuki's sun. The center of his everything. The gravity that holds it all together. Without Deku, Katsuki wouldn't be the man he is today. A better man. A decent man. A hero.

    Deku's lewd image still burns against the backs of Katsuki's eyelids every time he closes them. He can’t ignore it. Katsuki doesn’t ignore things. He bulldozes through.

    Katsuki sips the bitter tea, letting it burn down his throat into his less-than-fireproof insides. They’re already burning. Alive with restlessness as the world changes and opens in a way that he can't anticipate. Singes on a desire that keeps building and building with no outlet. The physical heat of the tea does little to take away from it.

    Katsuki's phone buzzes. Then again.

    Katsuki grins. Fuck it. He’s going to play with this. Now that the glass wall is broken, he can stomp right fucking through. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, after all.

       Katsuki's murderous grin stretches across his predatory teeth as the phone rings. Deku. How predictable. Katsuki can’t delete that gorgeous picture. Such a waste of beauty.

    Katsuki isn't sneaky. He’s a bulldozer.

    "What is it, Deku?" Katsuki asks as amusement colors his tone. The mean, coarse side of him slips out. "You seem so worried."

    "Kacchan, please," Deku starts, sounding just desperate enough to make Katsuki wonder if Deku would use that tone spread open and wanting, "I really need you to delete it. It's making me anxious and I can't relax until I know it's gone."

    "And what if I already looked at it?" Katsuki says, tone dripping with sin and mischief.

    Deku makes a sound like a small animal dying on the other end of the phone.

    "I never said I wouldn't look, dipshit," Katsuki says, leaning back in his chair. "What're you gonna do about it?"

    Katsuki wades in Deku's silence, and Deku finally pipes up in a panic. "Did—did you really?! Look at—at—"

    Katsuki eats up the sound of Deku screaming into a pillow. Katsuki never fully grew out of the desire to crush Deku, and so he says with a manic grin, "Yeah. Who'da thought you'd turn out to be a kinky little shit, eh, Deku?"

    More sounds of dying animals. "Why are you always such an asshole?"

    It isn't the tone Katsuki expects. It sounds breathy and flustered. Mimics the feel of a moan. An erotic match to the photo of Deku. Katsuki licks his lips, voice low to match the intensity Deku splashes down Katsuki's spine. "It suits me, doesn't it? Being an asshole."

    The line is quiet again, sans the heavy breathing.

    "Deku. You should come over," Katsuki demands.

    "But I'm coming over tomorrow," Deku says back. "That's what you wanted."

    "Changed my fucking mind," Katsuki says leaning forward as he tries to somehow will Deku to listen. "Come over now."

    "I—I've got plans. I just—"

    "See you soon, dipshit."

    Katsuki hangs up. Has no idea what he's doing, because the other side of this glass wall is new. The first few steps on this side feel sharp with shards of his previous expectations cutting into him. He can't possibly be attracted to Deku. Deku's a guy. Deku's a nerd. Deku's fucking infuriating.

    Deku's...laid out across his mind keening and begging and—

    Fuck.

    Katsuki's phone buzzes.

    Katsuki doesn’t respond. Instead of being mad, he looks through the hundreds of friends that Deku has on LINE for a Kita. Pulls up the profile. Chin-length dyed blond hair. Chocolate brown eyes. Friendly smile. The profile picture is with Hero Deku, who is sticking out his tongue at the camera through a ridiculous grin.

    And Deku's Kita-san is a man. Interesting. Even if the guy looks like an extra. Katsuki thinks back, vaguely remembering a young Deku insisting he has a husband, not a wife as they played house. Katsuki knows what this means. Deku never talks about it, but he never hides it either. Not from Katsuki.

    Katsuki reevaluates the profile picture. Because this is the guy Deku is fucking. Probably fucking. But they aren't dating? Deku didn't seem the type. He seems to want fluff and sunshine and rainbows. Why not with this guy? Is it the public bias?

    Katsuki flips through the profile. The guy is a hero costume designer. He goes to hero conventions and cosplays. The nerd seems right up Deku's alley.

    What exactly is Deku doing with this guy? And why is it quiet? Katsuki can find out tomorrow. Wring it out of Deku. Bulldoze.

    The text from Deku reads: ‘Should I bring anything Kacchan?’

    A simple question, but Katsuki wants to answer it in a way Deku will never expect. He says under his breath as a thrill ran over him, "Just your cute ass, Deku."

    Fuck. Katskuki is so fucked.

    The doorbell rings twenty minutes later. Katsuki licks around his dry mouth. The picture of Deku flashes in his mind again as Katsuki opens the door. Deku is easily holding up a straining bag of food from the conbini down the street. Katsuki could smell the fucking pork bao dumplings. His eyes burn onto Deku, who just fucking shrugs.

    Deku certainly isn't intimidated by Katsuki's fury anymore. Deku also seeks out ways to get vengeance on Katsuki through fucking kindness. Like buying Katsuki's favorite comfort food when he tries to follow a strict diet. Something both sneaky as fuck and obscenely thoughtful. Fucking Deku.

    Katsuki snatches the bag as his stomach growls. He rips open the bag and digs into one of the two packs. Deku is grinning like a loon.

    "You piece of fucking shit," Katsuki says before stuffing one of the pork buns in his mouth whole.

    "It's a peace offering," Deku says, holding up his hands. "Or an apology. However you wanna look at it. I'm sorry I sent that photo. You deleted it though, right?"

    "Like hell I did," Katsuki says with a pork-bun bloated smirk. "You still ain't paid up to get that shit deleted."

    "And uh, what exactly am I doing then?" Deku asks dejectedly.

    "You're gonna burn some fucking IcyHot merch with me," Katsuki says as he swallows, grin growing wolfish.

    "Wha—what? Burn?! Why, Kacchan? If you don't want it, give it to me instead!"

    "What, you got a boner for that half-and-half bastard?" Katsuki says, eyebrows up, grin teetering on evil.

    "Why would you think I...? Kacchan, what?!"

    "Well if you're finally outta the goddamn closet and fucking around with your boyfriend I figured you had a semi for that fucker. You two were always unusually close," Katsuki says, letting his smile melt back into a smirk.

    Izuku looks like a deer in the headlights. "Boyfriend? Out of the...closet?"

    "Relax, Deku. I stalked that Kita fucker on your LINE. Cause I wanted to see what kinda person could get you to dress up like that picture," Katsuki says, and his hunger slips out just a little too much. He knows because Deku stops and stares at him. Analyzing. The muttering has tapered off in Deku’s adult years, but he wears the same expression.

    "Kacchan, Shouto and Yaomomo have been together since our last year in high school. You're being ridiculous," Izuku says every word too carefully. He doesn’t acknowledge the rest.

    Katsuki sighs, loud and dramatic. "Shit Deku, you're a fucking stick in the mud, as always. Just burn the shit with me. Watching your face as hero merch burns will make my fucking day."

    Katsuki grins like he hasn't been trying all day to figure out something benign Deku would refuse to do. Hero merch is Deku's weakness. So Katsuki watches Deku squirm right into the jaws of his trap.

    "Isn't there...can't we do something else? Like, what if I clean your place? Scrub your toilets? Manual labor?! Please?" Izuku asks with a bow of desperation.

    "Does my house look like it needs a fucking cleaning? Hah, Deku?" Katsuki says, roughly tossing the handful of IcyHot merch at his nervous friend. Some fans sent it to Katsuki because they 'shipped' him with Shouto. Katsuki wants it gone. "Fine. We can do something else, and you can keep the merch. But it's gotta entertain me. How 'bout...you answer me some embarrassing shit that I've been wonderin'?"

    Izuku's face flames as he stares down at the hero merch, and Katsuki wonders if Deku is actually considering burning it all to keep his secrets. Katsuki feels a surge of intrigue crawl up his spine, curling in his chest and making his breathing shallow. He licks his lips as his mouth waters, hungry for the safely kept secrets. Izuku says in a pitched unease, "So I just answer questions? Like about the picture? Then you'll delete it?"

    "About anything I want," Katsuki says, another wolf grin stretching his face. Katsuki is ready to huff and puff and blow Deku's little straw defenses away. "Or I could just keep the picture. If you ain't up to it."

    Izuku eyes the hero merch again. Would he really burn it? Oh, Katsuki knows Deku is hiding something fucking juicy. Katsuki can almost taste it. Step one: bait Deku with hero merch. Step two: bait Deku with new information about Katsuki.

    "Come on, Deku, just agree. I can see you're not gonna burn that shit," Katsuki says, giving an over-dramatic eye roll. "And since I'm such a nice guy, I'll let you ask me two questions, too. Anything you want."

    Izuku's green eyes lit up and landed on Katsuki’s demonic grin. Izuku bit his lip before he says, "Ok. Deal."

    Katsuki could barely contain his excitement. Deku is a fucking sucker sometimes. So fucking easy.

    "So who are your firsts, Deku? Who'd you tell first you like cock? Who'd you get off with? Who'd you suck off?" Katsuki says, unable to hold back his curiosity. Katsuki’s always wanted to know, but their relationship has never been this good.

    Deku’s face looks red enough that it may be steaming. Then it turns a little soft as he says, "The first person I told—besides you when we were little—was Ochako. She confessed to me in second year and I told her then. She was also my first kiss because she wanted to make sure I didn't feel anything for her. I told Iida and Shouto pretty soon after that. Shouto, um...I think he saw me as a way to rebel against his dad more, and to experiment...so we were...kinda together second year. He was...my first um...everything up to sex."

    "I fucking knew it!" Katsuki yells, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. Deku tries to hug the Shouto merch unironically. And fails. "How is half and half as a lover?"

    Izuku peeks out from behind his blush with a shrug. "Eh? Clueless. It was cute at first, but then it just... It was time to be done. He wasn't interested. I think he was confusing our close friendship for attraction, and I had to kick him out of the nest. He's a much better fit with Yaomomo."

    "Whatever. Who popped your cherry, Deku?" Katsuki says, hoping it isn't the Kita guy Deku is with now. That'd be fucking awkward when Katsuki split them up. Katsuki may not deserve Deku, but Katsuki always fights for what he wants.

    "Mmnnmmaam," Deku mumbles into the IcyHot sweatshirt.

    "What? Speak up, Deku. I can't fucking hear you."

    "Monama," Izuku squeaks.

    "You're fucking with me," Katsuki says blankly, eye twitching.

    "Nope. M'not." Deku says, drowning himself in the sweatshirt. "The end of third year. If he hadn't moved away, we'd probably still be together."

    "Huh. No shit," Katsuki says, scratching his head in disbelief. "How'd you even get together with an asshole like that?"

    "Well I...he was trash-talking our class again and Kendo just...didn't have the energy. So she left him to me. And I just...did uh—didn't react the way he expected. We had uh—a moment. And then we started m-making out...and things...moved fast."

    Katsuki squints, sick curiosity lights his face as he cracks Deku open. "How fast?"

    "We...he...we just...went back to his room and we..."

    "You fucked him?!" Katsuki says, throwing his head back with a cackle. "Just like that? Damn, Deku. And all this time I thought you were a fucking prude. How the fuck has this never come up?"

    Deku's face is cherry red, bleeding down to his neck. Katsuki drinks in the embarrassment, reveling in the same depraved thrill he feels most times he makes Deku squirm. As Deku sees the cruel grin on Katsuki's face, Deku hides deep in the IcyHot sweatshirt and plushies. Deku lets out a whine that sounds like a pained 'Kacchan' and Katsuki can't help but relish in the feeling of breaking through the walls Deku built up around his secrets over the years.

    "So was it good?" Katsuki asks. He rarely smiles this much, and his face hurts from savoring Deku's humiliation.

    Deku's green and red head pops up, eyes wide as he says, "Yeah. Really. Um. Yeah."

    Katsuki raises his eyebrow. "So that asshole did it for you, hah?"

    "Yeah. He's my type," Deku says, rubbing the microfiber hair of the plushie to soothe himself. The flush on his face fades into a soft contemplation. Nostalgic.

    "Oh yeah? And what's that?" Katsuki asks, finding his curiosity gets ahead of him.

    Deku's eyes flash up at Katsuki—a quick sweep of analysis—before returning to the plushie, "Uh, blond. Fit. Maybe a little bossy."

    Deku looks at the IcyHot plush and won't meet Katsuki's eyes. Memories spike up in Katsuki's mind. He leans the conversation away from them out of instinct. "Guess that dipshit is a good fit then."

    Deku breathes out, letting Katsuki know Deku had been holding his breath to begin with. Katsuki licks his lips. Laid out his second to last breadcrumb leading to the finale. "And that Kita guy's your type too, huh?"

    Deku frowns. Looks almost guilty as he says, "Not...really. We're just friends with benefits. It’s casual and open. He's another hero nerd. We don't really fit well enough in um...well, to date. I can kind of tell he’s interested in me for the wrong reasons, but...he uh...he's trying and that's nice, you know?"

    Katsuki takes this opportunity to stand up and prowl in slow circles around Deku's chair. His mouth waters at the tension in Deku's muscles, watching the sweat roll down the side of his face and land in the IcyHot sweatshirt. Katsuki murmurs, "I really don't. Know what that's like. I ain't had much action the past few years. Who'da thought that the sweet little bunny hero Deku’d be getting more ass than the number two on the hottest heroes list?"

    Deku's breathing is shallow as he locks his eyes on the ground. Fine tremors run up his arms and legs, only noticeable if someone is paying close attention. And Katsuki is. Katsuki watches for every little tick Deku is giving out, every subtle sign that Deku's nerves are a hair shy of snapping in two. The hero who trains often to deal with various stressful situations is about to fall apart beautifully in front of Katsuki's eyes.

    Just as fucking planned.

    "Hey," Katsuki says, peering down at the man trying to ignore him. "Deku."

    Katsuki waits for the silence to weigh on Deku until he can’t help but look up. Eyes dilating, skin glistening with sweat. Katsuki is standing in front of him, looming over the mere inches separating them. Katsuki feels his face ache from the stretch of yet another hungry grin forced out of him in his mania.

    "Ain't I your type?" Katsuki says, a faux surprise decorating his face. Of course, Katsuki knows what he’s done. He’s been choreographing this dance in every waking moment since he decided to chase after Deku and pin him down. Katsuki prowls again, circling behind Deku to where his eyes can't follow Katsuki. He leans close and whispers, "Would you spread that pretty asshole for me and let me fuck it? Huh, Deku?"

    Deku's tremors devolve into full-blown shakes, audible breaths, and sweat trickling down his neck. Deku starts to turn, to respond. Stops halfway. And instead of the timid boy Katsuki remembers, Deku is a lucid fever dream of a man, eyes glazing as he clutches at his chest and moans. The sound slides down Katsuki’s spine like the delightful chill of the outside air after a workout. Deku slaps his hand over his mouth.

    Deku doesn't answer the question. Lets it hang in the air. Katsuki falters for a moment. But not in Deku’s view. Katsuki believes Deku will crumble before him. Beg and plead. But maybe Katsuki overestimates Deku's obsession with him. Maybe Katsuki's mistakes from the past are too much and Deku let that fascination go. Maybe—

    Deku is laughing. A cutting, uncharacteristic laugh. It screams uncertainty and vulnerability. Deku says coldly, "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

    Hurt and angry and fucking strong. Deku recovers fast. Katsuki wants him more for it. Deku turns to Katsuki with an angry frown. Katsuki can't bring himself to speak. Only stare as a quick jolt of energy zips along Deku's eyes. Shit. He doesn’t do that, anymore. Deku doesn’t lose control of One for All. Deku doesn’t bleed that endless energy unless he is mid-battle and fighting for his life.

    "Is that what you wanted, Kacchan? You wanted to make fun of me? Hah?" Deku says, another little jolt of energy snapping from his hard eyes. "Well fuck you."

    Katsuki feels his instincts rip in two. Katsuki's mind screams at him, ‘Deku's too good for you. Deku knows this. He's giving you an easy out.’ His gut argued, ‘These pieces don't fit. Deku is pushing away because he’s afraid it’s just a cruel joke.’ Deku is still shaking like a leaf. Katsuki listens to his gut. What does he have to lose? Deku never leaves when Katsuki is a little bitch to him. Now is no different.

    "I'm not," Katsuki says firmly, crossing his arms and staring down at Deku. His white-knuckled grip crumples the sweatshirt in his hands. His eyes are damp, but he won't cry. Not over anger. Not anymore. Katsuki knows that. Katsuki knows him better than anyone. 

    Deku looks at him suspiciously, "You're not what?"

    "Fucking with you," Katsuki says as he pulls Deku out of the chair by the front of his shirt and kisses him. It isn't much of a kiss. Deku gasps into it, ruining the alignment. Katsuki uses the opportunity to delve his tongue into Deku's mouth and lick the backs of his teeth. Deku jolts backward.

    "What?! So you just...you just suddenly realized after seeing me naked that you wanted me or something?" Deku says hysterically, hands smacking against his own face. Disbelieving.

    "Kind of," Katsuki pouts. Mentally, this scenario unfolded better. In his head, Deku crumbled at his feet and allowed Katsuki to bury himself into everything that Deku was. Deku always follows Katsuki's lead. Katsuki should have also known Deku would ruin his plans by being an unpredictable motherfucker.

    "No...I don't...I can't do this with you. I can't," Deku says, shaking his head and backing away. "It's not fair. You're not being fair."

    Katsuki's hackles rise because now Deku isn't making any fucking sense. Fuck. Katsuki growls, "What'dya fucking mean it ain't fair?"

    Deku finally snaps. Katsuki watches Izuku's eyes jolt with energy again. "You always do this! I just start moving on and you drag me back to you! I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU, IDIOT!"

    Katsuki feels the air escape his lungs and he can't breathe. Deku says it from time to time when their emotions are running high. It always feels as wrong as the first time. The first year they made it as pro heroes. The words burn under his ribs the same as the day Katsuki had turned him down. Deku even begged on his knees after being rejected. Katsuki told Deku to get up and focus on being a hero. The most important thing at the time.

    Deku's crying now. The sound pulls Katsuki back and he feels a sick little elation over Deku's persistent obsession. He crushes it down as he says, "Yeah, you always have been, nerd."

    "If you know that—" Deku sniffles, wiping his face on his scarred hands—“Why would you dangle this in front of me? It's cruel, Kacchan. If I know what it's like to be with you…I won't ever want anyone else."

    "Maybe that's what I want," Katsuki spits out before he can think things through. Deku’s blubbering makes Katsuki slip up and blurt out that nonsense. 

    Deku sat wide-eyed and frozen, "Kacchan do you...love me back?"

    Katsuki answers quickly, "No, Deku. I don't think I can feel like that. About anyone. Not like you do, with the fucking hearts in your eyes and shit. I don't get it. I never have. But I do want you. So if that ain't enough just take your fucking icy hot merch and go. I ain't looking to fuck you up like that."

    Deku...Izuku stares. Longer than Katsuki is comfortable with. His skin crawls under the gaze, waiting for something to give. Deku wears the muttering face again without a peep sneaking out of his kiss-damp lips.

    "It's fucking annoying that you don't mutter anymore," Katsuki says gruffly, leaning against the wall. "At least I knew what you were thinking."

    Izuku's eyes glance up. "Is this a one-time thing?"

    "Hah?" Katsuki says before he figures out what Deku means. Why he asks. Katsuki pulls himself together and gives a cheeky, "Depends how good it is, doesn't it?"

    Despite the sandy grit of competition in their never-easy relationship, Izuku's lip quirks up as he persists. "So how long will this last? How often?"

    "Dunno," Katsuki says honestly. "But I didn't work up the fucking energy to seduce you for nothing, so you better be fucking ready for whatever I have to give you."

    Deku frowns. "And it doesn't bother you that I love you?"

    Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Never has."

    Izuku takes a deep breath and blows it out. He digs into his wallet. Pulls out a piece of paper. "It's easy for the two of us to lose control. It's happened before. Too many times. I want you to fill this out so we don't cross any lines."

    Katsuki glares at the paper. Deku practically said yes. Katsuki starts reading, unwilling to let this hold him up. "The fuck is this?"

    "Negotiation," Deku says firmly. "Do it or I'm leaving."

    Fuck if Katsuki doesn't snap to it right then. The notecard is typed out. Everything from hair-pulling to flogging is on here. Katsuki glances up at Deku and says sharply, "Is it things I want you to do to me, or things I want to do to you?"

    "Things you enjoy. It doesn't matter if it's me or you. If you wouldn't be willing for me to do it to you, then you're not doing it to me. So if you like it, mark it Y. If you don't want anything to do with it, mark it N. Maybes are fine too, but I don't think it matters for now."

    Katsuki makes quick work of the list. It's a stepping stone to his goal, so he does it swiftly and without complaint. He hands it back to Izuku. Izuku licks his lips, carefully assessing the list with wide eyes and a little tremor.

    "I don't even feel like I have to ask but..." Izuku says with a gulp, "You'd prefer to be the dominant party in these, right?"

    "Better fucking be," Katsuki says with a tsk, but as he watched Deku's face darken he adds, "At least until we get our shit sorted. Can't fucking imagine me layin' down and taking orders easily, can ya?"

    "No," Izuku says, eyes a sudden bright green blaze, "But that’s what would make it fun. I can imagine holding you down as you try to get your way. Driving you mad until you plead with me."

    Katsuki mentally blanks for a moment. Izuku blinks the heat away and hands the stiff man in front of him another card. Already complete.

    "Here," Izuku says with a nod. "That's my list. Look it over."

    Katsuki wastes no time devouring the list mentally. Submission. Humiliation. Quirk play. Bondage. Things he doesn't expect this Deku to like—this strong, unbreakable Deku that stands in front of Katsuki while facing his fears. The number fourteen hero, just one spot above Katsuki himself. For now.

    Katsuki commits the list to memory. Makes certain he knows the things he can't do. The things that will drive Deku away. He glances up to see Deku sending a text on his phone. Katsuki can’t see much, but he makes out the Kanji for Kita. Deku looks up before Katsuki has much time to consider it, so Katsuki says, "So how do we do this?"

    "We talk about it first. Clarify. Set a safe word. It might seem like a bad time but I know you too well. And this is important to me, so don't push it aside," Deku says. Katsuki feels Deku's maturity in the statement. Something Katsuki is still working on at twenty-five. Maybe he always would be. Meeting Deku’s meager demands seem like a worthwhile investment if it means Katsuki gets what he wants.

    They talk. Cover each point of interest. Deku goes into detail about what Katsuki is allowed to do to him. And what he isn't. Katsuki's eagerness climbs as he expands on his wants and needs, including the things he isn't the least bit interested in. The conversation takes nearly half an hour. Near the end, it feels like foreplay.

    Deku's voice works itself into warm honey as he glances up at Katsuki. "So are we doing this today?"

    Katsuki licks his lips again, trying to taste that sticky sweet. They feel raw and tender from the repetitive action. Katsuki asks, "Is today ok?"

    "Yeah," Izuku says, climbing onto Katsuki's lap, voice cracking as his dam of emotions breaks open. "Please. I want you so bad."

    Katsuki tingles with the energy Izuku is putting out. Full, drowning waves of lust crash into him. Izuku takes Katsuki’s lips the same way Katsuki had earlier but in reverse. Izuku holds the shirt collar in his hands, dragging Katsuki into Izuku’s core in a way Katsuki is sure he will never truly escape again.

    Izuku’s lips are on him like a fistfight, urgent and vicious in their eagerness. Katsuki reciprocates as they collide, tugging hair and pushing into each other with broken desperation that surpasses all their previous struggles. Their bodies are familiar from sparring. The angles and edges slot together and interlock. Izuku wraps his legs around Katsuki’s back. Katsuki wraps his arms around Izuku’s neck. Teeth and breath and vibrating adrenaline.

    Izuku is shaking again, and little wisps of green energy are jolting from his eyes. Katsuki can't look away. Hadn't been able to look away from Deku for years. Since the first day at U.A. when Katsuki’s expectations had been ripped apart by the throwing of a baseball. Would Deku ever stop ripping Katsuki’s world apart?

    No. Not likely.

    Izuku grinds down into Katsuki’s lap with a groan. Back arching, Izuku's flood of muttering surges, and he thinks out loud. "Kacchan, yes, oh you're already getting hard. Oh my God, this is happening. It's happening."

    Katsuki grins viciously as he demands, "What'd you imagine when you thought about me fucking you, nerd? Hah? What kind of lover am I in that sick brain of yours?"

    Izuku moans, legs trembling as he continues a slow, hard grind against Katsuki. After panting a few times, Izuku answers, "Everything. I imagined everything. But—ah, ah! Mmm—I wanna know for real. I need it. I need you!"

    Katsuki’s chest tightens and his ego soars. Deku’s lips have always been loose with praise for Katsuki, and he always breathes it in and puffs up his chest. But today it’s a flood. Drowning in Deku’s obsession is an adrenaline rush akin to fighting villains. And Katsuki wants more. More. Mouthfuls and lungfuls of praise until he’s dizzy with it and can't breathe.

    Katsuki captures Izuku’s moans with an insistent kiss, spit-messy and spine-tingling. The pitch of Izuku’s eagerness rises.

    "Please, Kacchan," Izuku whines into Katsuki’s mouth.

    "What? Please what? Fuck, Deku," Katsuki says as he rests his hands on Izuku’s hips. "Fuckin' get up and take off your pants."

    Izuku scrambles off and starts unbuttoning his pants.

    "Fucking wait, shit. Why don't we go to the bedroom? I don't wanna get come on my couch," Katsuki says as he stands and drags a shell-shocked Izuku by the arm behind him. "I bet you just get off on the idea of bein' in my room, don'tcha, nerd? Don't think I didn't notice you always trying to get a visual. You imagine me fucking you a lot?"

    Deku doesn't answer but he's breathing fast enough that Katsuki’s not sure the guy can. So Katsuki keeps talking.

    "I ain't an idiot. I know it's been going on for a long time. When'd it start, Deku? Hah? When'd you first grab your pretty little dick and wish it is me?" Katsuki grins devilishly as he yanks Deku onto the bed.

    Izuku’s shock at being thrown onto the mattress breaks his haziness momentarily but makes him no more coherent. "Um. Uh. I—since, since, uh. First year. At U.A.”

    Katsuki pulls off his t-shirt, unhurried even though he thrums with want. He says, "I fucking asked when  Deku. I wanna know."

    Izuku’s eyes widen and his face flushes, "The, uh. The fight. After. Uh..."

    Izuku cuts off as Katsuki drops his pants. Katsuki smirks. "Deku. Answer me."

    "The first class with All Might," Deku rushes out, squeezing his eyes shut. "Our first real fight. You were so angry and so devastated and I just...that night everything hurt so bad...but you acknowledged me. I was so happy, I just...wanted you to get back at me by ripping down the door and fucking me. It’s so fucked up. That the first time I came was over my best friend being rough with me. But it never felt that exciting before. It wasn't interesting until you made it interesting."

    The mood lulls for a moment. Katsuki can't find words at first, but then, "You got off to me the first time?"

    Deku still won’t open his eyes. He nods.

    "Shit," Katsuki says, energy tendrils wrapping around every limb like he wants to use his quirk but is holding back. "I jacked off to you after our fight at ground beta. You, pinned under me. And when Aizawa had you all tied up like that it put me over the edge. I was half-convinced I was gonna proposition you on house arrest, but then you went and pissed me off. I don't even remember what about."

    Izuku’s eyes slam open. Gazing into the depths of Katsuki’s soul and searching for something that isn't there. But Izuku looks shaken all the same as he says, "We were probably getting off at the same time thinking about each other. After ground beta."

    "Maybe," Katsuki says. "Doesn't fucking matter. I told you to take off your fucking pants. Do it. Now."

    Izuku does. Shirt too. He's sitting there trembling in his thank-god-they-aren't-All-Might blue briefs, hard cock straining the fabric.

    "Well don't let me stop you," Katsuki says, teasing. "Keep stripping for me."

    Izuku won't let the subject drop, despite his nerves. He obsesses over the point of intrigue. "So you really got off to me? How many times? Why?"

    "Can we focus on the present here?" Katsuki huffs, motioning to his erection straining his boxers to reinforce his point. He’s about to fuck Deku right fucking now. Why does Deku care about some fucking high school jerk-off sessions?

    "You said I get two questions!" Izuku insists, sitting up on the bed. "How many times, Kacchan?"

    "Fuck, Deku. That’s ten years ago. I dunno. Five? Ten? Not a fucking ton. I always wanted to jack off after a good fight. So I jacked off to most of the class, at some point. Don't think you're fucking special," Katsuki says with a frown. He wants this dropped. It feels like leading Deku on. Katsuki isn't interested in that.

    "But I am special," Izuku says with a bright grin. "Because you're here with me, right now. Not them."

    Katsuki feels something soft tighten inside him. The spot that always worries and cares for Deku. Even when Katsuki doesn't want to. Whatever feelings he had for Deku are still there. Still important. Just not what Deku wants them to be.

    "You sure you wanna do this?" Katsuki says, a nervous itch in his throat as he recalls Izuku insisting that he won't come out of this the same person.

    "Please," Izuku says, eyes a vibrant and desperate shade of green against the pale sheets. "Please, Kacchan. You can't stop now."

    Katsuki drops his boxers. Moves forward through Izuku’s heavy gaze. Pulls at the briefs Izuku has on. They stare at each other, naked.

    "Oh my God," Izuku says mostly to himself.

    Katsuki goes to the drawer to retrieve his lube. He turns it over in his hands as he looks at Izuku and says, "So, Deku. You want me to stuff you full of my cock, right?"

    Deku looks right at Katsuki's cock, and a smug smirk pulls at Katsuki's lips.

    "Yeah," Izuku says quietly.

    "Get on your knees so I can slick you up, then," Katsuki says with raised brows.    

    "But—" Izuku says, watching Katsuki frown—"I thought you'd warm me up first. Like uh, foreplay."

    "Deku," Katsuki says through grit teeth as his cock strains. "The whole fucking day's been foreplay. Get on your fucking knees or I'll make you."

    Deku looks torn between the two options but ultimately chooses to turn over. Face in the pillow. Ass in the air. At the perfect height for Katsuki to appreciate the spread cheeks and sweet puckered hole there. As his gaze drifts down, he eyes the dangling balls and cock just asking for neglect. No friction and nothing to rub against. Katsuki bites his lip.

    He slicks his fingers and presses one in without warning. Deku jumps, but he relaxes and is ready only a moment later. Deku makes little huffs and coos as Katsuki fingers him experimentally, looking for the angle at which he can hit Izuku’s sensitive spot. The goal is obviously to devolve him into a moaning mess.

    But other than some frantic panting, Deku is uncharacteristically quiet. Maybe that's who Deku is in bed. Katsuki imagined Deku as the same chatty, nerdy dork lacking coordination and stuttering out a few pleas.

    "I ain't been with a guy before, but I've fucked an ass. If I'm fucking something up you better speak up, got it, Deku?" Katsuki says ignoring his hopes to blow Deku’s mind. Katsuki tries to keep a cool collected aura, though it isn't easy. The lusty thoughts about Deku that had been a sprinkle of rain throughout Katsuki’s life are now a raging thunderstorm.  

    "You've really never been with another—oooh!" Izuku cut himself off with a moan. Katsuki smirks. There's the spot. Katsuki keeps his finger flush against the smooth bit of tissue and rubs it mercilessly. Deku loses whatever he'd been about to say and devolves into gasps and beams of approval. "Yeah, oh yeah! There! There! There Kacchan oh my—oh, oh!"

    There's his Deku. Mumbling into the pillow. The room fills with erotic chatter as thick and tall as the towering persona of the hero that Deku is. Katsuki glances over the scars. Has a distant urge to count them. To quantify Deku's pain and grip it like something tangible. Instead, Katsuki adds another finger.

    Deku whines against him. It’s only been a minute, but Katsuki never made a promise to be patient. Or kind. Or gentle. His skin lights with the beginnings of a power trip and he grins against the echoes of moans and adds a third finger.

    Izuku lets out an erotic, hiccuping, sob.

    "Fuck, Deku," Katsuki murmurs, watching Midoriya Izuku start to crumble. Trembling. Hitching breath. Grasping at the sheets and pushing back up into Katsuki’s hand. Crumbling into just Deku. The Deku from before. Quirkless, useless. Katsuki's to bend and shape and lead. Katsuki’s grin reaches his eyes as he imagines himself taking the throne before Deku. Katsuki thinks he'll wear the crown.

    But Katsuki is wrong.

    One for All skitters across Izuku's skin as he shreds the sheets, the cry of the fabric drowned out by Izuku's cries. Katsuki should be angry. And at a base level, he’s upset. Still, a feral grin involuntarily tears across his face as he spits out, "You fucking like that, huh?"

    Deku shudders, ripping the sheets farther. Fuck. Deku starts to chant, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me !"

    Katsuki pulls out his fingers and steps back. Deku's broken sob washes over him and tingles across his skin.

    "Please," Deku begs, turning his teary eyes to Katsuki and moaning, arching his back as he catches a glimpse of Katsuki’s wicked grin. Deku gasps, "Please, Kacchan. Fuck me, please ."

    "No," Katsuki hisses, practically drooling over the power he'd never held fully in his grasp. Deku looks devastated, exactly how Katsuki wants him. Devastated in a way Deku never had been growing up when Katsuki tried to shove him down. Katsuki is getting goosebumps up his arms and down his neck, delight so vivid that he feels giddy. And it bubbles out in a deranged giggle. Izuku eyes him with a drop of fear in a growing body of arousal. Izuku shivers.

    "You're not gonna fuck me," Izuku says, solemn.

    "Consider this me indulging you," Katsuki says in a low purr of a tenor that makes Izuku shiver all over again. "Warming you up. Right Deku? You wanted that, didn’t ya?"

    Izuku mutters softly enough that Katsuki can't hear. So he slaps the toned hunk of ass in front of him and growls, "Fucking speak up, shitnerd."

    Deku jumps at the smack but pushes his ass back into Katsuki’s hand like he’s begging for another. Katsuki feels like he’s flying. The fucking nerd wanted to be fucking spanked by him? Katsuki wanted to give it to him. Wanted it so badly. So he did. Slapped him over and over until Deku is cry-moaning and his hips are stained with flushed splotches of red. Katsuki is panting. Izuku is panting.

    They pause to breathe.

    "Please fuck me," Deku asks again, smaller and more compliant. "Kacchan, please."

    "No," Katsuki says, voice so full of delight that it slams into Deku, and he collapses on the bed.

     "Please."

    "I fucking said no," Katsuki spits, grabbing Deku by the waist and demanding, "Turn over. I wanna fucking see you. I wanna see the shitty look on your face. Give it to me."

    Deku tries to help Katsuki turn him, but his noodle-like limbs make it difficult. Katsuki doesn't have an issue. He flips Deku, Katsuki soaking in Deku's red, tear-stained face. Katsuki leans in, plants his hands above Deku's shoulders, and rests his knees at Deku's hips. Katsuki leans further. Licks up Deku's tears. Deku pants harder, hot breath on Katsuki's shoulder. Their cocks rub against each other lightly, and at this first bit of contact—finally, a sensation—Izuku's pelvis shoots up to grind into Katsuki's. Hips a foot off the bed, jelly legs holding him up in the desperation for something— anything —to touch him.

    Katsuki presses back with a growling moan. He hadn't been touched either. He collects himself, putting the full bulk of his weight on Deku and making them both bounce into the mattress.

    "Bad Deku," Katsuki says, his voice a whisper of that which one uses to scold a dog. "Bad, bad Deku."

    Katsuki bites into the meat of Izuku's neck, hard enough to leave a mark. Hard enough for Izuku to cry out. Hard enough for Izuku to unintentionally activate One for All again and grind into Katsuki with all his might.

    "No—I—no? Please? Please Kacchan. I've been so good. Please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please—"

    Katsuki licks at the bite mark. Starts to grind back down into Deku because the torture for Deku is now becoming torture for him. And fuck if he isn't going to get what he wants when he wants it. Izuku's hands drift to Katsuki's ass and he pushes himself up as he pulls Katsuki down. The sensation is delicious. Firm pressure against stacks of scarred muscle. So different from the softer, breakable curves Katsuki had experienced in the past. So sturdy. Deku could fucking handle the abuse Katsuki wants to give him. Deku can handle getting fucked until he screams. And Katsuki wants that. Now. But first...

    "Move your fucking hands right fucking now," Katsuki says as he shoves away from Deku. Deku tries to follow him, follow the friction, but Katsuki won't let him. Katsuki takes the shreds of sheets and tears a few chunks long enough to bind. "Gimme your hands, Deku."

    "No, no Kacchan, please. Please? Let me touch you. I'll be good, I will! I'll—"

    "Then fucking listen and give me your hands, dipshit" Katsuki growls, no room for argument. Deku looks sad, but his cock keeps twitching as Katsuki makes a comfortable knot around Deku's wrists.

    "But what if I never get to touch you again? What if this is my only chance? You're not going to let me? Kacchan?" Izuku mutters, half to himself, half meaning to be heard. Katsuki isn't sure Deku is in a state of mind to tell the difference.

    "I fucking said we'd do it again, didn't I? What? You saying I'm a liar? Huh, fucker?" Katsuki says. Katsuki expects this. The bickering. The clash. It isn't something he'd hoped for. But a sharp stab of competition in his gut eggs him on. He grins in spite of the malice he spews.

    "You said it depends on how good it is," Deku says, glare breaking through his lusty haze, "You never said we'd do it again."

    "You want it or not?" Katsuki's voice is a tight threat, like he may walk away at any moment and leave Izuku desperate. As if. Katsuki isn't about to walk away from this. But the threat has the desired effect.

    Just like that, the trembling, stuttering, apologizing, and—best of all— begging Midoriya Izuku is back. Just like in early high school. Before he'd grown into the amazing hero that obliterated Japan's expectations. Katsuki likes the hero Deku. He’s a worthy rival. But this Deku? Echoing their past. Deep and raw. Katsuki is glad that this weak, needy Deku isn't entirely lost. The one that needs Katsuki the most.

    "Yes, Kacchan. Please. Please? I need you to—”

    "Shut up, Deku" Katsuki growls, and Izuku trembles. A small part of Katsuki hates this, the guilt it dredges up. Hates that Izuku has formed a lust for being beaten down, made to beg. That the barest hint of approval will send him soaring. But then—and Katsuki licks his lips thinking about it—a larger part of Katsuki thrives on this. Revels in the beauty of their perfect brokenness. In their inability to ever completely distinguish from one another since they had broken each other apart so many times, mixing all their pieces.

    "Don't say a fucking thing unless your pretty mouth is screaming for me," Katsuki says, watching as Izuku arches at the heat from the tiny explosions along his ribs, singeing the hair and skin there ever so slightly. Izuku pants through his nose, pushes his bound hands taut above his head, mouth closing tight in a pained hum, nearly silent. Just like he’s been told.

    Beautiful. But-

    "You can scream about that if you want," Katsuki says with a curious grin and bright eyes that lock on Izuku. Izuku peels his eyes open as he pants, lusty haze clouding them. Katsuki enjoys licking Izuku with his flames more than he expects. But the complete surrender makes his cock throb. "You like that, Deku? Tell me."

    "Yeah," Izuku says roughly.

    "You want me to do it again?" Katsuki asks with a feral interest laser-focused on Izuku.

    "Yeah," Izuku says again. So Katsuki does it again. From the underside of Izuku's upper arm to his hips, Katsuki drags hot little pops of pain from the tiny explosions down Izuku's person.

    This time Izuku whines, tearing up, "Hurts, Kacchan. Shit."

    "I know it fucking does. I remember how it felt as a kid before my hands calloused over," Katsuki says, hypnotic interest still there, but his smile is gone. "But you're fucking tough, ain'tcha? You can take it. You can take whatever I give you and you won't break."

    The last few words hold an edge of charged euphoria. Like the concept is foreign to Katsuki. But certainly true. No signs of doubt. Izuku will not break.

    Izuku manages to pull himself from the throbs of heat waving along his skin and replies, "Yeah. I can take it. Always."

    The same warm wisps of inconvenient fondness swirl in Katsuki's chest. He leans into Izuku's space to kiss him. Short, precise. Izuku tries to follow him for more, but Katsuki retreats too quickly.

    "Good," Katsuki says, running a thumb across Izuku's damp bottom lip. Izuku's painfully hard cock bobs. Katsuki eyes it, "And now I'm gonna fuck you so hard you live up to your fucking name, Deku. You won't be able to fucking lift a finger when I'm done with you."

    Izuku's breathing picks up as he whines, starting to chant, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—"

    "Didn't I tell you to shut up, you fucker?" Katsuki says, grabbing Izuku by the face and squeezing his cheeks so hard it makes him look like a fish. Izuku tries to nod through it. "Good. Now scream for me."

    Katsuki smears a quick swipe of lube over his length and starts to push in. Izuku is ready for him. Begging now, even though Katsuki just tried to shut him up. Izuku draws his legs up, and his muscles are thick chords straining to cooperate with Katsuki's commands. Katsuki could grab Izuku by the thighs and help him support the weight. But he doesn't. He grabs him by the hips and yanks him forward onto his cock.

    Deku screams then, just for a second. Katsuki wants him to do it again. Deku kicks at him a little, and he decides then to hold Deku's knees over his arms to keep it from happening again. Katsuki sets a relentless pace, and Deku's yells quickly become pornographic. Short, high moans to match the intensity of the fucking.

    Nothing about their coupling is loving. Nothing about it is gentle. Still, Deku starts screaming, "Kacchan! Kacchan! Kacchan!"

    The epitome of Deku's affection and love. The one thing Katsuki has always let him keep, always let him hold on to. Even if Deku has to fight a proverbial tug of war over and over to keep it. 'It' being the permission to call Katsuki 'Kacchan.' Izuku is the only one allowed. The only one persistent enough to deserve the right. The only one fucking dumb enough to put up with Katsuki all these years and still love him unconditionally.

    "Kacchan! Holy fu—ahh ahh ahh fuuck, yeah, yeah yeah yeah oh my—" Izuku wailed, "I'm gonna—I'm—I'm—!"

    "Shit, you're gonna come?" Katsuki says, gleeful with the idea. "Just from me slapping you and fucking you raw? Shit, Deku. I just started fucking you. I barely fucking touched you. You think I'm gonna stop just cause you came? Can you handle me fucking into you right under your soft, oversensitive dick? Hah, Deku?"

    The taunt itself is what seems to push Izuku into orgasm, and Katsuki watches with greedy captivation as Izuku unravels. Green glowing eyes roll back. Body arching. Legs that dangled over Katsuki's elbows now encircle him in a crushing hold. A gorgeous spasm of muscles as Izuku sprays a thick string of come across his own chest. Then another, and another, each smaller than the last. The show fascinates Katsuki as he fucks Deku harshly through the orgasm, and watches Deku's dick dribble every time he pounds into Deku's prostate.

    As the orgasm tapers, the most beautiful sobbing starts with every harsh thrust. Katsuki throws his head back and groans at the sound of it, at the sight of Izuku's teary face. The tears had started mid-orgasm. Fuck. Katsuki feels himself slipping toward the edge as Izuku chokes out more erotic moan-sobs.

    "Just like that, Izuku. Damn—fuck. So fucking strong. Such a good Deku, taking my fucking dick like this," Katsuki says, losing his composure as Deku's ass grips him with an immense hold, almost painful. Katsuki feels himself slip over the edge with one last devastating thrust into Izuku's trembling core.

    The orgasm’s explosion hits. Hot and overwhelming, much like Katsuki's quirk. Katsuki groans into Izuku's space, curling in on him. Thick, sticky come slicks his slowing thrusts, and Katsuki opens his eyes to Izuku's soft, limp stare.

    "I love you," Izuku says, words tumbling from his loose lips without care or regret. Just something given. His hands lay at his sides. At some point, he had ripped through the bindings. Neither knew when. Izuku's hand weakly rises to brush against Katsuki's hand before dropping back to the bed.

    Katsuki pulls out, hefting one of Deku's legs over so he can flop down on the torn sheets next to Izuku. Izuku's slack head turns to Katsuki with a hint of a smile. Katsuki feels the need to fill the space. To acknowledge Izuku's feelings.

    "I know you do, Deku. I know."

    Izuku flops his limp leg and arm over Katsuki and giggles. The mess covering Izuku is still there, now pressing up against Katsuki.

    "Fucking gross," Katsuki groans.

    "'S just cuddles," Izuku says with a stupid grin on his face, speech soft and slurring.

    "Just cuddles my fucking ass," Katsuki says, shoving Izuku in the face. "You're covered in fucking come, you tore my sheets to shit. You're a fucking hot mess. Get your ass cleaned up before I fucking kill you."

    Izuku pouts. Something Katsuki hasn't seen much of since they were kids. Maybe middle school at the latest. It still has the same effect. Katsuki still feels a pang of gut-deep guilt.

    "Fucking what?" Katsuki says sharply.

    "Can't walk," Izuku says pout deepening, "Carry me?"

    Katsuki feels struck over the head. "Are you a fucking baby?"

    Izuku pouts, tears pricking his eyes.

    "Fucking fine," Katsuki growls, hefting Izuku's mass of muscle up and around him like a baby chimp. Katsuki's arms are shaking. His body is pissed that it had to do more work after an experience like that. But Katsuki kicks open the door and steps into the bathtub with Izuku.

    "Sit your ass down you useless baby," Katsuki sighs, nearly dropping Izuku onto the shower chair to rinse off while Katsuki gets the bath temperature right. The tub fills up quickly, and they don't speak while the soft rumble fills the air. Izuku is boneless as Katsuki scrubs them both up. Izuku doesn't look particularly happy or sad. Content, maybe.

    Katsuki has their talk about aftercare rolling around in his head. How Izuku had insisted it had to occur if Katsuki is rough with him. Katsuki eyes the mild burns down Izuku's sides. Other places that look like they'll bruise. Katsuki doesn't particularly want to coddle Izuku. Izuku doesn't need it. Katsuki knows this.

    But Katsuki wants Izuku to come back for this again more than he wants to be right. It’s an odd realization, feeling that deep in his gut.

    "You still fall asleep in the bath?" Katsuki asks, watching as Izuku glances up at him. Katsuki adds as he towels off, "You always used to. When we are kids."

    Izuku flushes and looks away. "Not very often."

    "Then I'll be quick. Don't let the water get too high."

    Katsuki hears the water turn off in the bathroom as he strips the sheets. His hopes of finding a conscious Deku when he returns are lost with Deku’s lolling head just above the water.

    "Oi, Izuku," Katsuki snaps, patting Izuku on the face and drawing him out of his drowsiness.

    Izuku frowns. "Sorry, Kacchan. I'm sorry. I tried but I—"

    Katsuki runs his fingers through Izuku's hair and shushes him. "Shut up, Deku, It's fine. Just don't drown in my tub, you fucking idiot."

    Katsuki finger-combs Izuku's hair, rubbing at the scalp hard enough to draw a groan from him. The sharp, masculine scent of Katsuki’s shampoo there seems a poor fit for all of Izuku's soft edges on display. Izuku takes a deep breath and hums out a happy sound.

    Izuku hums himself into a state of pseudo-sleep. Until he snores. Then he's actually asleep. And Katsuki doesn't feel the least bit bad waking him up with a cup full of water over his head. Izuku jumps up, gasping and flailing around. Katsuki snickers in the background, but he mellows when Izuku gives him a big, drippy smile.

    "I just thought I dreamed the whole thing," Izuku murmurs through his smile as he settles back against the bath. "But I didn't. You're here, Kacchan."

    Katsuki smirks a little, because yeah. Deku just admitted Katsuki has lived up to Deku's wet dreams. Katsuki tsks, "And you're still here tryin' to drown in my tub, asshole."

    "Mm, yeah," Izuku hums, "You should get in with me so I don't drown."

    Katsuki glares at the back of Izuku's dark green curls. Still, Katsuki says, "Fine. Move. Just put those stupid heart eyes away, and all the other romantic bullshit you're pulling. I don't want that crap."

    Izuku moves forward and lets Katsuki slide behind him. "I know. But after trying so hard to stop loving you and failing, do you really think I can hold it all back now?"

    Katsuki doesn't answer. Just rubs along Izuku's arms and thighs. Feels as Izuku slumps against him, once again asleep. Katsuki sighs, moving his hands along the scars he’d admired earlier. They are never gonna go to sleep in the actual bed at this rate. Even if it’s nice. Katsuki lets the water drain. He hefts Izuku into a stand and shoves a towel at him, dragging him out of the bath and into the bedroom. Katsuki puts some of his burn cream on Izuku's sides. After it had a few minutes to soak in, Katsuki demands that Izuku goes to sleep in the bed instead of passing out on his damn floor.

    Izuku is asleep in seconds. Katsuki gets a stupid grin on his face as he pulls the blankets over Izuku and himself.

    "Wonder what that fucking Deku sees in me anyway?" Katsuki murmurs as he hovers propped over Izuku's sleeping form. Izuku's silence in sleep gives Katsuki no answers.

    In the morning they eat breakfast and part ways. Act normally. For now. Until the two of them—destined to circle each other in every way—will collide once more. Later that day, Katsuki smirks viciously at a text from Izuku:

     ‘So you deleted it, right Kacchan?’