Work Text:
Izuku can’t sleep. Not that him staring at his ceiling until it starts looking like some weird, blurry universe is out of the ordinary. He and sleep have feuded for time immemorial and the nightmares nearly three years of hero school have gifted him have only made the bad blood between him and a good night’s sleep worse.
Whatever. Insomnia wins again. Besides, it’s now late enough to be early, which means he can stop worrying about pretending to sleep and take advantage of the gym. Maybe he can sleep at lunch or after classes. Plus, he got a nap in around one that morning. It’s all good.
With that in mind, Izuku rolls out of bed and very quietly makes his way to the gym so that he can work out all the nervous energy currently keeping his eyelids from falling shut.
—
If there ever existed a true opposite to Izuku’s god awful sleeping habits, the person wailing on the punching bag is the one in possession of them. Katsuki values sleep more than any of the heroes-to-be in their class and the fact that it's asscrack-of-dawn o’ clock means nothing. If Katsuki is here now, then Izuku will bet his red high tops that he’s managed to get a respectable six hours of sleep and is ready to start his day while even the sun stays tucked beneath the horizon, asleep.
Obviously, as he’s currently beating the poor punching bag into oblivion like it stole his wallet and insulted his work ethic. Izuku watches, enthralled by the quick, smooth glide of muscle beneath clear skin as Katsuki twists and jabs, face set in a scowl as he concentrates single-mindedly on his task. Sweat beads on his temples and darkens the shaved hairs at the back of his neck while his broad shoulders glisten under a thin sheen of it.
Pretty, Izuku’s sleep deprived brain offers and yeah, that’s very true. Katsuki is pretty. Izuku has known this for a very long time, but he's kept it to himself because, while Katsuki is incredibly pleasing on the eyes, he’s also solid muscle with a lot of literal fire power in his long fingered-hands and he'll definitely use all of that power to painfully throttle Izuku if he ever says that to his face. Probably. They do have a much better relationship now. Maybe he’ll just throw Izuku out of the second floor window. It’s not like defenestration from that height would be fatal to Izuku and it will very succinctly broadcast Katsuki’s displeasure.
Even if it won’t kill him, Izuku doesn’t like getting thrown out of windows. There’s a lot of glass involved and someone usually yells at him for being careless or for destroying UA’s property and he can do without any more of that. So he'll continue to think about how pretty Katsuki is within the safety of his own head and hope that it doesn’t all come spilling out of his mouth in a fit of mumbling.
It takes Izuku a moment to realize that Katsuki stopped trying to murder the punching bag and has now turned all of his considerable attention on Izuku. Izuku stares back, not sure what else to do. Katsuki yanks off the headphones he has covering his ears and lets them rest on the towel wrapped around his neck.
“The fuck you staring at, nerd?” He asks as he mops his face with one edge of the towel. His hands are wrapped in a highly absorbent material that soaks up a good portion of his volatile sweat, which is very not good for Izuku because, while it keeps his sweat from contaminating the gym, it also concentrates his fire power. Izuku purses his lips and carefully considers his response, hefting his workout bag up onto his shoulder to buy him time
“You were staring at me.”
Katsuki snorts indelicately. “Yeah, ‘cause you were doing that creepy thing you always do when you check out of reality and start muttering like a weirdo.”
Oh, great, said all of that out loud, did I? Izuku thinks and dies a little on the inside. Just like he’s about to almost die on the outside. The part of the gym they now occupy is very conveniently located on the second floor. There are many, many wide windows all around them. Katsuki may have trouble picking Izuku up now that Izuku has put on considerable muscle mass and grown just a smidge taller, but Katsuki is nothing if not determined. If he wants to throw Izuku out of a window he will definitely figure out a way how.
“And there you go again,” Katsuki says but he sounds, dare Izuku think, amused. “I don’t know what the fuck you were muttering about before, but I ain’t tossing you out the window."
“Oh. Really?” Izuku replies rather dumbly.
“Yeah, really.” Katsuki grabs his water bottle and brushes past Izuku into the part of the room dedicated to weight training. Izuku turns on his heel but doesn’t follow until Katsuki huffs and shoots him a glare over his shoulder. “Are you gunna stand there all morning or are you gunna come spot me? I’ve been waiting for your insomniac ass to show up for over thirty minutes, but if you’re gunna just stand there being stupid then—”
“Nope, done standing!” Izuku chirps and he thanks whatever deity that is watching over him today as he makes his way over to Katsuki that he hadn’t heard most of Izuku’s dumb muttering.
—
Izuku learns later that he should be thanking the new noise canceling headphones Katsuki had on. Katsuki grudgingly explains when Izuku asks about them on their way back to the dorms, that he invested in them because, in his words, “if I’m gunna be training with your lame-ass, I need a way to block out all of your creepy fucking muttering. I get enough of it everywhere else.”
It can probably be said that Izuku’s head is screwed on a little weird because a wave of fondness washes over him, and his first thought is Aw, Katsuki was thinking about me.
It can definitely be said his damn head is all kinds of screwy when his next thought is of all the things he can now say without any worry of Katsuki hearing him. Although, in his defense, Katsuki is still really hard to talk to. They may have finally built a decent relationship soldered together from the remains of their childhood and made strong by a rivalry meant to push each other forward instead of down, but Katsuki still doesn’t do feelings and Izuku tends to throw his at everyone but the target unless he’s pissed.
It’s a really weak defense.
—
“You’re really pretty,” Izuku says the next time Katsuki wears the headphones. He says it quietly, but when Katsuki doesn’t react in the slightest, he grows bold. Izuku continues to warm up, stretching as he speaks. “I know you’d hate to hear it, but sometimes it’s hard to look at you. You have the clearest, most luminous skin I’ve ever seen—is it so smooth because of your mom’s quirk? Does that mean you won’t have wrinkles until you’re really, really old?”
Katsuki never once looks up as Izuku talks and it’s in that moment that he knows he’s not going to be able to stop now that he’s started.
And he doesn’t, for months.
—
"How is it fair that you've got such broad shoulders and such a tiny waist? I think my hands could fit around it. I know my hands aren’t all that big, but I really think I could circle your waist with my fingers. You'd probably kill me if I tried, but I really wanna try."
Katsuki grunts as he presses up the weight in his hands and Izuku keeps his eyes on the bar just in case it slips.
—
“The fact that you never wear sleeves when you work out haunts me. I can’t handle your arms. It’s almost impossible to pick my favorite part of you, but your arms are definitely way up there. I want you to pick me up with them and pin me to a wall and just...nope, Izuku. That’s going too far.”
He hides his face in his towel. The headphones might block out his words, but they won’t help Izuku if he starts blushing.
—
“Kacchan wears sleeveless shirts when he works out,” Izuku blurts out at lunch one day, apropos of nothing and a little distressed. It might be after a month of spilling his dirtiest secrets to the man in question that his filter has completely broken down, but he’s reached a point where it’s hard to push Katsuki out of his thoughts and it’s…really distracting. His lunchmates stare at him.
“That’s not new information,” Shouto says, slowly placing his chopsticks across his plate of half-finished cold soba. He looks at the others for confirmation. His deadpan expression looks just the slightest bit confused. “He’s done that since first year.”
Izuku glares mournfully at his lunch. Four salt-roasted fish faces stare back at him. He’d wanted katsudon, but Katsuki had caught him by the arm and dragged him forcefully over to the line for Japanese style lunches, glaring at him until he picked something healthy and high in protein. It would have been a sweet gesture if not for the fact that Izuku couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond the heat of Katsuki’s palm against his skin. He really needs to start eating, but now that he’s opened his mouth he has to impress upon his friends the significance of Katsuki’s workout clothing. Sure, he’s always eschewed sleeves in his pursuit of an unfairly fit body, but now that he and Izuku meet regularly, the lack of sleeves has become a Problem.
“How do I make him wear sleeves?” he implores the fish, but the fish impart absolutely zero ounces of wisdom in return. He feels slighted.
“Why would you want him to do that? He always wipes down the machines properly anytime he uses them at the same time as I do,” Tenya says, but Izuku is too busy stewing in piscine betrayal to hear him. Ochako, the fourth and final member of their table, giggles merrily into her drink.
“Don’t worry about Izuku, he’s just thirsting.” She pats Izuku on the head, ruffling his hair playfully when he glares balefully at her. Tenya pushes up his glasses and goes back to his lunch, clearly unwilling to engage.
“I see.”
“If you’re thirsty, you can have some of my tea,” Shouto offers around a mouthful of soba. Ochako cackles in earnest while Tenya hides his own smile behind his hand. Izuku bites off the head of one of his fish and ignores them.
—
His embargo on anything lewd goes right out the window when Katsuki wears shorts just a bit too tight to one of their workout sessions. It’s not that he can even really see anything, but everytime Katsuki squats down, Izuku’s overactive imagination has a field day and it all just slips out.
"I really want to suck your cock. I have for like forever, but damn those shorts make it really hard not to just get on my knees. I really want to see if I can swallow you all the way down. I think I can. I know you’re big, but I’m stubborn and it’s definitely possible to train away my gag reflex if you’d just let me try.
“Please let me try.”
—
“His shorts today were—”
“Nope,” Tenya says, swiftly sweeping up his books from their table. They had gathered in the library to study for midterms, but Izuku’s will grows weaker by the day, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything except how deep he can get Katsuki’s cock down his own throat. “I do not want to hear the end of that sentence. This is a conversation for Uraraka.”
“I’ll text you when it’s safe,” Ochako says with a grin and cheerful thumbs up. Izuku has his hands in his hair, tugging on the strands as he stares at his notes on the old vigilante laws, but the words make no sense to him no matter how much he squints at them. Ochako kicks Izuku under the table. “Now, tell me all about Bakugo’s shorts. How tight were they? They had to be straining.”
“So tight,” Izuku groans, launching into a monologue over just how well the material clung to Katsuki’s thighs every time they moved.
Shouto listens quietly, but says nothing.
—
It’s summer vacation, which means a training camp right in the middle of the hottest months of the year. Yet, at the end of it, they are given the option to either return to the dorms or spend the last week at home with family before starting their second semester. Izuku stays home, Katsuki does the same.
He’s lying on his stomach on the couch during his second evening home, scribbling observations he made during camp into his notebook when someone knocks on the front door. He doesn’t get up at first, comfortable and lazy, but the knocking becomes more insistent and he forces himself up with a groan.
He checks the peephole, scrambling to open up the door when he sees who stands on the other side. “Kacchan?”
“Who else, dipshit? Get your running shoes.” Katsuki stands with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts, golden brows relaxed over his fiery red eyes. The setting sun limns him in light, catching on the beads of sweat just starting to form on his smooth skin. It nearly blinds Izuku. He doesn’t register a word Katsuki has just said.
“What?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes and jabs a finger pointedly at Izuku’s running shoes resting next to his red high tops in the genkan. Izuku has trouble looking away from Katsuki’s face, but he manages to finally look at his shoes and then back at Katsuki who’s clearly dressed for exercise in shorts and another blasted sleeveless shirt. “Put those on. We’re going running.”
“Um, okay?” He says automatically. He backs into his apartment and Katsuki follows. “I gotta change though. Gimme like five minutes?”
“Sure, whatever.”
Izuku beats a retreat to his room before Katsuki finishes speaking.
—
Running with Katsuki is different than their usual workout routine. At the gym, they employ a mostly together-but-separate pattern that has them interacting only when one of them needs a spot, but always starting and finishing at the same time. With running they are fully together from the start, feet slapping the pavement in tandem as they race around Izuku’s neighborhood, heaving in lungfuls of early evening air. Izuku can’t mumble, he doesn’t have the breath for it, but the quiet between them is the closest to peaceful that he has ever experienced.
It’s nice.
Or it would be if it wasn’t 35 degrees celsius with eighty-five percent humidity. Izuku’s doing his best to ignore the way sweat has soaked into his shirt, making it stick to his skin as if he glued it there. The heat is oppressive but he pushes through the discomfort; concentrating more on each jarring step as he speeds ahead of Katsuki only to be overtaken a moment later. The competition keeps him going even if he’d like nothing more than to dive into the nearby sea and become one with the water. He doesn’t trust fish after his lunch refused to give him advice, but maybe he could befriend a squid or two.
Despite his aversion to the brain-melting heat, he never once turns Katsuki down when he turns up on his doorstep every night for the next week. So like their gym meetings at school, for a short while running in the evenings becomes a Thing.
Too bad Katsuki doesn’t wear his headphones when he runs, there’s so much Izuku wants to say about him covered in sweat.
—
“Kacchan’s beautiful when he runs,” Izuku says when he’s reunited with his usual friend group. He didn’t get to talk about it for a whole week, but now he has a captive audience in the form of his best friends. Ochako immediately turns her attention to Izuku. Shouto doesn’t look up from his phone. Tenya looks a second away from an aneurysm. He has such good, invested friends.
“We ran together every night this past week,” Izuku continues, slumping against the back of the couch. He’s curled up against the right side with Ochako in the middle and Tenya on the other side of her. Shouto has commandeered an armchair. Tokoyami’s in the kitchen, his head stuck in the fridge, but Izuku trusts he’ll keep whatever he hears to himself. Tokoyami’s cool like that. “It was miserable with the heat, you know? But he came over to my mom’s apartment every night right before the sun went down and dragged me out to run with him. It’s the first time he’s come to my apartment in a really long while. Mom was worried at first, but after she made Kacchan stick around for tea a couple of times everything was good.”
For some inexplicable reason, his eyes start to prickle with tears. “It was really nice.”
“I may be out of line,” Tenya ventures after giving Izuku a chance to compose himself as Ochako rubs his knee gently. “But maybe you ought to tell him how you feel. You obviously want to, and while I am not encouraging engaging in sexual intimacy on campus, as that is rather inappropriate, I think not saying anything is doing you more harm than good.”
Izuku goes quiet as he considers that. Tell Katsuki...what, exactly? That he’s got the best set of pecs Izuku’s seen and his arms frequently feature in his midnight fantasies? Or that he’s still the single most amazing person Izuku has ever known and that Izuku’s probably been in love him since before he even knew that loving a person that way was even possible?
“Weren’t you and Uraraka making out in the stairwell an hour ago?” Shouto breaks the silence as he squints at something on his screen. Tenya turns red almost instantaneously.
“That’s not the same!” He screeches, scandalized, but Ochako’s raucous laughter drowns out any further protests. They’ve garnered the attention of their fellow classmates as people trickle in for dinner, but Katsuki isn’t among the few starting to gather in the living area. Izuku stares at the ceiling, thinking hard about Tenya’s words. Maybe he should talk to Katsuki.
—
He can’t.
What if he fucks up their friendship? They’ve come so far and Izuku’s not willing to destroy that despite how much his overactive hormones demand he bend over a desk, pull his ass cheeks apart and beg Katsuki to fuck him.
—
So Izuku does what he always does. He talks into the quiet of the mostly empty gym as he spots Katsuki. Katsuki’s eyes are closed as he presses the bar in his hands up with a soft exhale, inhaling as he brings it back down. Sweat gathers in the dip of his collar bones, sliding down both sides of his neck to drip onto the bench underneath him. His whole body shines with it and the dark grey of his tank-top has gone nearly black over his chest and under his arms, causing the fabric to cling to his skin.
“I don’t know how to talk to you,” Izuku says quietly. Katsuki wrinkles his nose but continues on as before. Maybe he has an itch. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but it’s all jumbled in my head. Who knows how you’d take it. Loudly, probably. Maybe a bit violently.
“The problem is that we’re finally friends and it took us so long to get to this point and here I am being selfish. Everything’s perfect and I’m so scared of screwing that up, but I really think I might love you.”
Katsuki exhales harshly, but Izuku hardly notices, too caught up in his own head. “And I really, really want you to fuck me.”
Katsuki drops the weight with a sound like a cat being strangled by its own tail; Izuku yelps, barely catching the bar before it can crush Katsuki’s windpipe, but his clumsy save has him dropping the weight beside the bench instead of setting it back into its home and it hits the ground with a loud thud. Adrenaline spikes through Izuku, leaving him lightheaded when Katsuki scrambles up and jerks around to face him, kneeling on the bench.
“What the fuck?!” He demands, his whole face so red it rivals Kirishima’s hair, the flush spreading down his neck to disappear beneath his shirt. His headphones are around his ears, turned off, but Izuku doesn’t have enough time to register that before Katsuki shuffles awkwardly on the bench and grabs Izuku by the front of his shirt, dragging him down so that they are eye to eye. “What the actual fuck?”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that!” Izuku says desperately, but that only makes Katsuki’s flush worse, the tips of his ears as violently red as his eyes. Izuku’s insides wither. He should have played dumb, why did he say that? That’s basically as good as a confession. “I mean, I don’t know—it wasn’t what it—”
“Christ.” Katsuki yanks on his shirt, his nails scraping Izuku’s chest through the fabric as he does. Izuku panics. His scattered brain shouts at him that he needs to escape even as Katsuki’s mouth attacks his in a violent clash of lips and teeth. He jerks away before the pain and reality register, scrambling to put distance between them before Katsuki can wrap his hands around Izuku’s neck and detonate them. He’s fond of his neck, he doesn’t want any more scars, at least not before he graduates. Katsuki shouts after him as he runs. Probably profanities. He doesn’t hear them, too busy searching for an exit.
He finds one in a conveniently opened window. At least this way there’s no broken glass.
—
Izuku sits in the middle of his room. He hasn't been there very long, but the cogs of his brain have screeched to a halt and nothing makes sense. Unless Katsuki's suddenly gone zombie and was trying to rip Izuku's face off with his teeth, he justkissed Izuku. And Izuku ran. How could he have screwed up this badly? There's no way Katsuki's going to forgive him, not a chance.
Why did Izuku have to open his dumb mouth and make it weird?
With no warning at all, his door blasts open and slams into the opposite wall, hallway light flooding into his room around the heaving shape of Katsuki. Izuku squeals and crab walks back until his spine knocks against his desk chair; as Katsuki glares at him and hooks his foot around the door, kicking it shut, he realizes there is nowhere for him to escape. Unless he wants to go out another window. He’s sorely considering jumping out another window.
“You!” Katsuki snarls advancing on him with heavy, determined steps. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry!” Izuku wails, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know what to do!”
“You jumped out a goddamn window!” He stops at Izuku’s feet and looms over him, sneering down his nose at Izuku, but he sounds almost awed in a horrified way. “A window, Deku! Who does that?”
“I panicked! It was the closest exit!”
Katsuki’s face twists into an ugly scowl, but for a second Izuku sees a flash of hurt flare to life in his eyes. He throws his arms out to his sides and exclaims, casually hysterical, “Oh, I’m sorry. After you said you wanted me to fuck you, I figured kissing was on the table! My bad! I didn’t realize it was so disgusting you needed to throw yourself out of a window to get away!”
“What?!” Izuku squawks, shooting up to his feet so fast Katsuki has to jerk back a step to avoid getting headbutted in the chin. Izuku grabs him by the front of his shirt, the material wet with sweat beneath his desperate fingers as he shakes Katsuki; if he had the space in his brain to make comparisons, it would almost be funny how their positions have switched. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were five! I mean, there was a period of time there were that would have been a really bad idea, but still! It’s definitely not disgusting! It’s the opposite of disgusting! Why would you think it was disgusting?”
“I will repeat it since the absurdity of the situation hasn’t sunk though all of that dumbass hair of yours,” Katsuki hisses through gritted teeth as he grabs Izuku’s hands and forcefully removes them from his shirt. He doesn’t release Izuku’s wrists once Izuku lets go, though; they stand close enough that their harsh breaths mingle between them. Izuku’s losing the thread of their argument, more invested in the movement of Katsuki’s lips as he speaks slowly like he would to a child. “You. Jumped. Out of. A window.”
“I think you’re focusing on that too much."
"You're not focusing on it enough!" Katsuki's grip on Deku's wrists tightens like he wants to grind the bones together. "You said all of that shit about—" his cheeks burn a bright red and he visibly decides to side-step whatever he was about to say. "— whatever, I kissed you, and you jumped out the window! How the hell am I supposed to take that?!"
"I—" Izuku starts, ready to explain himself ad nauseam, but words are what got him into this mess in the first place, so he stops. Katsuki seethes, but he hasn't stomped off yet, nor has he tried to throttle Izuku with his explosive palms, so maybe...maybe if Izuku is brave...
He leans forward and kisses Katsuki.
It's awkward with their hands trapped between them, but without the panic of potentially having his face gnawed off by zombie Katsuki, Izuku can appreciate how soft his thin lips are where they're pressed to Izuku's chapped ones. Katsuki makes a soft noise of surprise and Izuku takes advantage of the slight parting of his mouth to taste him; the lingering flavor of toothpaste hits his tongue, growing stronger when Katsuki finally catches on to what's happening and kisses Izuku back. Izuku moans, wrapping his arms around Katsuki's neck the moment Katsuki lets go of his wrists. He tangles his hands into Izuku's hair.
Katsuki tugs experimentally at the curls sending shocks of electricity dancing down Izuku's spine that settle in the pit of his stomach like embers ready to ignite. He wants Katsuki to do it again, to yank even harder, but he also wants to clarify everything before things get out of hand. So, with pants significantly tighter and breath heavier, he breaks the kiss reluctantly.
"Do you know how to take that?" Izuku asks hoarsely. Katsuki's eyes are slightly glazed, angled down to watch the movements of his lips as he talks. Having Katsuki's full attention is deeply gratifying, but Izuku continues before he's distracted again. "I definitely don't think kissing you is gross. In fact, I'd really like to do it again. You understand that, right? Right? Because I'm prepared to do anything to make you understand that I find you stupidly attractive—"
"Yeah, I got it, Deku. And me, too," Katsuki interrupts with a snort, his breath heating Izuku's face. His cheeks have taken on a pink tint again but he holds Izuku's gaze. "Been trying to get your attention for awhile now, but for someone so observant you're incredibly obtuse. It'd be impressive if it wasn't so goddamn frustrating."
"Really?" Izuku demands, prompting Katsuki to stare at him incredulously. It clicks, after a moment, as Izuku scrubs through all the time they spent together for clues. He realizes that in all of that time, Katsuki initiated nearly everything: their daily workouts, the week of evening runs, he's even taken an interest in Izuku's diet as of late. All pretty obvious signs that Katsuki has a vested interest in Izuku, but Izuku has been too busy in his own head to have noticed. He really is obtuse. "Oh."
"Dumbass."
"Why didn't you just say something?"
"Why didn't you?"
"Technically I did, but you couldn't hear me," Izuku points out. Katsuki shoves him and Izuku falls back a step with a laugh. "Sorry, sorry!"
"If you're fucking sorry, make it up to me."
Katsuki probably doesn't mean that to sound like a challenge—or if he does, maybe not in the way Izuku takes it—but the words zing through him all the same, stoking the embers still crackling in his belly to sudden flame. He's more than happy to make this all up to Katsuki. Preferably right then and there.
"I can do that." Izuku moves forward and drops to his knees without a second thought. Katsuki flushes red instantly.
"The fuck're you doing?"
"Making it up to you." Izuku places his hands on either side of Katsuki's hips, tilting his head up to smile at him even as his own face starts to burn.
"I meant like asking me out or some shit!" Katsuki yelps, voice an octave higher than usual. It's cute, but Izuku knows not to say that unless he wants a face full of fire. Katsuki steps back, retreating unintentionally toward the bed. Izuku follows awkwardly on his knees. "You don't have to jump straight on my dick."
"But I want to." One step back, one shuffle forward.
"We have class, you perverted nerd!" Another.
"I'll be quick." Another.
"If you're implying that I ain't got stamina, I swear on Endeavor's flaming pubic hair—" A final step back and Katsuki's calves hit the bed.
"I just want to make you feel good, Kacchan." Izuku gently urges Katsuki to sit down by pushing on his thighs. Despite his protests, Katsuki collapses onto the bed immediately, knees splaying open as he falls back on his hands for balance. Izuku settles between the vee of his legs and leans forward with his hands resting on the bed on either side of Katsuki's waist. Katsuki watches him with wide eyes, pupils blown wide. "Can I do that?"
"Fuck." Katsuki eyes shift around the room, taking in the door shut awkwardly on battered hinges, before meeting Izuku's. He nods. "Yeah, okay. Knock yourself out."
Izuku grins, elation and nerves in equal parts flooding through him now that he has permission to do exactly what he's wanted to do for months. He kisses Katsuki's chest through his shirt and shifts back onto his haunches. Katsuki's shorts are loose, but that only serves to highlight his interest in the proceedings, the fabric draping over his half-hard cock. Izuku's mouth waters. He hastily tugs on the waistband, desperate to get through what suddenly feels like an impossible amount of barriers, but it gets caught on his hips. Katsuki lifts up right before Izuku considers ripping the shorts down the middle.
"Slow down! Are you really that impatient to suck my dick?"
"You have no idea," Izuku breathes as he eases the layers down Katsuki's corded thighs and over his knees, underwear and shorts puddling on the floor around his ankles. He can't help the quiet groan of appreciation that slips past his lips. Katsuki's big, Izuku knows this from showering and changing together for years, but finally getting to see Katsuki fully erect makes his mouth water. His cock curves toward his stomach, rising high from a nest of light pubic hair with the flushed head peeking out from the foreskin. "You're beautiful."
Katsuki splutters. "How do you just say things like that?"
“I’ve had practice," Izuku says. His heart pounds, anticipation sending adrenaline racing through his veins and blood straight to his own cock. He didn't wait for a response, eager to get his mouth on Katsuki. Too eager, as the second he wraps his mouth around the head and tries to slide down his length, his gag reflex engages and he chokes.
"D-didn't I just say to slow down?" Katsuki's voice cracks despite his effort to sound stern. Izuku ignores him, coughing once before trying again, much slower this time. With one hand he steadies Katsuki's cock and the other he uses to steady himself on his thigh. He laps experimentally at the head, tasting the precum gathering at the slit; it's bitter but bearable. The salt of his skin is far more pleasant, so he chases that by easing Katsuki into his mouth with slow indulgence. His jaw stretches wide, his tongue forced flat against the bottom of his mouth the further down he goes, filling him completely. When he reaches where his hand wraps around the base, he stops and reverses, going just as leisurely. The sounds Katsuki makes as he bobs his head at a cautious pace feeds into his arousal; with each twist of his head and swipe of his tongue he catalogues Katsuki’s reactions for later, storing every bit of information he can.
“Deku,fuck,” Katsuki groans. His thighs shake with the effort to keep still, the one beneath Izuku’s steadying hand taut with tension; Izuku appreciates this, he doesn’t think he’s quite ready to have Katsuki fuck his mouth, not until he’s had more practice. He slides off of Katsuki, and grins up at him with swollen lips.
“Not this time,” he chirps, surprised to find his voice rather hoarse despite his slow pace. Katsuki swats at his head.
“Not what I meant and you know it, you mouthy little shit.”
Izuku opens his mouth to make another cheeky remark, but Katsuki stops him by grabbing a fistful of hair near the base of his skull, tugging it sharply. Izuku keens, overwhelmed by the flare of pleasure that burns through him, his skin sparking with it. As it fades, he catches sight of Katsuki’s wide-eyed awe right before it melts into a satisfied smirk, transforming his features into something devilish.
“You like that?” He asks, yanking again before Izuku can even respond. Izuku’s mouth falls open around another helpless noise as once again his whole body lights up with pleasure, concentrated between his legs where his cock strains against his briefs. He hastily removes his hand from Katsuki’s thigh and shoves it beneath the waistbands of his shorts and underwear, wrapping around himself tightly for relief. Precum drips from the head, providing a small amount of lubrication as he strokes himself.
“Keep doing that,” he demands right before descending on Katsuki’s cock as far down as he can go. He matches the pace of his mouth to his hand, saliva slipping past his lips to smear across his chin and his steadying fingers as he bobs up and down in a haphazard pistoning motion. He chokes more this way, but every time he gags, Katsuki’s hand tightens in his hair, spurring him faster. A steady litany of curses unravels from Katsuki’s mouth.
“Stop, stop! Gunna—” Katsuki gasps and tries to yank Izuku off, but Izuku refuses to budge, pulling against Katsuki’s hand in his hair until he’s nearly nose to crotch with him. He swallows instinctually, throat constricting around the glans uncomfortably, but that seems to be the last push Katsuki needs to drop over the edge. He spills into Izuku’s mouth in a rush of bitter cum, startling Izuku even though he fought for this exact thing. He reels back, tightening the hand around his cock unintentionally in just the right way to bring himself off. Cum strikes his face, splattering across the bridge of his nose and getting in his hair when he falls back on his ass, overbalanced and shaky from the pleasure flooding his system. He sits for a long, shocked moment on the floor, hand still in his ruined shorts, staring up as Katsuki stares back at him looking just as dazed and confused as Izuku feels.
“What the hell?”
Laughter bubbles out of Izuku's throat. His face is covered in cum and his shorts are soaked with it, but Katsuki’s dumbstruck expression is just too much. “Oh my god, I—that was—I’m so sorry!”
“I tried to warn you!”
“I know, I know,” Izuku giggles. He retacts his sticky hand and wipes it on his shirt, grabbing the hem of it to then wipe his face. He needs a shower, but despite the absurdity of the situation, he just wants to bask on the floor in the aftershocks of his orgasm. He grins lazily at Katsuki. “I’ll do better next time.”
“I’m not complaining, dipshit.” Katsuki flops back on the bed, hiding his face from view. Izuku perks up, rolling onto his knees to try to get a glance at his expression. “That was fine. Except for that last bit, that was a goddamn disaster, but everything else was...good.”
“Really?” Izuku shuffles all the way to the edge of his bed, and leans onto the mattress, grinning like a dope. Katsuki throws an arm over his face, hiding his blush from view.
“...yeah.”
Izuku’s insides melt. He levers himself up and crawls towards Katsuki, curling up beside him on the bed. Katsuki doesn’t try to move away, but he shifts his arm so that he can side-eye Izuku from underneath his elbow. Izuku smiles at him and wraps himself around his side, curling his head against Katsuki’s chest. After a minute, Katsuki drops his arm with a huff and wraps it around Izuku’s shoulder, pulling him closer to his side. They lay like that in silence for a long while, half naked and grimey, but content. It’s heaven for Izuku.
So of course the peace must be shattered.
“You said something else, earlier,” Katsuki says. Izuku stiffens, but doesn’t remove his arm from where he’s thrown it over Katsuki’s chest. He feels Katsuki’s heartbeat beneath him, as fast as his, just as nervous. He stares at the ceiling and Izuku watches at him. “You said that you…”
Katsuki hesitates, as if afraid to vocalize his thoughts now that they’ve found an equilibrium again. Izuku does it for him. “That I love you?”
“Yeah, that.” His pale brows furrow downward, his eyes never turning toward Izuku. “You shouldn’t. I—”
Izuku interrupts him. He knows where that thought’s going, but they’ve hashed this out with words and fists in the past and Izuku is unwilling to let it stand between them now. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel. So worry about yourself.”
Katsuki falls silent again. The quiet lulls Izuku into a dose that is shattered by Katsuki speaking again. “Me, too.”
Izuku jolts awake, pushing himself onto an elbow so that he’s leaning over Katsuki. Katsuki won’t meet his eyes, but his cheeks have started to color again. He brings his free hand up to cup Katsuki’s face, ignoring the prickle in his eyes at Katsuki’s words. Katsuki finally looks at him, red eyes hard with an attempt to cover-up his sudden vulnerability. Izuku leans in close. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
Izuku kisses him. It’s soft, burning with none of the heat from before, but it warms him in all the right ways. Katsuki kisses him back without hesitation, bringing his hands up to thread through Izuku’s tangled hair. Izuku’s tears overflow, burning as they fall down his cheeks, but Katsuki doesn’t comment even though they fall onto his face. They stay like that, exploring each other until Izuku’s phone alarm goes off, announcing the start of their school day.
Izuku breaks the kiss reluctantly. “We’re going to be late for class if we don’t move.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
“Mine,” Izuku says easily, grinning even as he wipes his eyes on the shoulder of his shirt. “Shower with me?”
“Fucking fine.”
—
Izuku miraculously makes it to homeroom with time to spare, but he honestly wishes he hadn’t. Or that he and Katsuki had come together, but too late for that now. Katsuki had needed to change, leaving Izuku alone with...this.
“It’s not fair!” Mineta wails at Izuku the second he steps through the door. The rest of class looks varying levels of harried, visibly exhausted by whatever has Mineta so worked up. Yaomomo, in particular, is rather red around the cheeks. Mineta stomps quickly across the room towards Izuku, wild-eyed. “How did you get laid before me!?”
“What?” Izuku says rather intelligently.
“Sex, Midoriya! You had sex this morning!”
“In no universe would you get laid before Midoriya,” someone mutters but Izuku is still too busy fighting off blooming mortification to notice who when what Mineta says clicks into place. He must have heard him and Katsuki, he lives right next door and the walls are thin and there was so, so much yelling before they even did anything so they must have woken him up. And if they woke up Mineta…
Izuku turns his head mechanically to the side, ignoring everyone until he finds who he’s looking for in the front row. Aoyama sparkles aggressively at him, smiling brightly. When Izuku catches his eyes, he winks and gives the most unsubtle thumbs up Izuku has ever seen in his life. Izuku wilts completely, wishing desperately for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“Pres, I want a room change!” Mineta shouts, turning on Tenya. Izuku scrambles around him, scurrying toward his seat while Tenya explains with more patience than the situation deserves that sexual frustration is not grounds for a room change. A noise complaint, maybe, but...blue balls? No.
When Izuku falls into his seat, he quickly looks around to find Ochako, unsurprised to see her already staring straight at him. She grins and mouths you’re going to tell me everything later. His face heats but he nods. The door slides open a minute later, Katsuki stalking in just as the bell rings. The whole class stares at him, but he ignores them as he makes his way to his spot in front of Izuku. Mineta scrambles away from Tenya and follows behind him, brave in his indignation.
“And you! Who in their right mind would fuck you?”
“You heard us, so unless you need your ears checked, you damn well know the answer to that.” Katsuki snaps, glaring straight at Mineta who wilts beneath the power of his glare. “Now sit the fuck down before I make you and if you harass my creepy-ass boyfriend, I’ll blast you right into the sun.”
Izuku squeaks as the class erupts into excited conversation, folding his arms across his desk so that he can hide his head in the dark space they create. His face burns unbearably, but more than that, he can’t stop the stupid grin that threatens to split his face in two at Katsuki’s words. Boyfriend—wow, he hadn’t even tried to deny what happened between them.
Aizawa enters not too long after and everyone quiets, but Izuku still buzzes with excitement. Katsuki looks back at him once, grinning sharply before facing forward and it warms Izuku all the way through. This is good. This is perfect.
God, he’s so glad Katsuki’s earphones stopped working.