Archive of Our Own ^beta

Katsuki’s horny.

Well, that’s putting it bluntly. He’d kinda spent his teenage years fighting a war and shit, so he didn’t get that whole discovering the bliss of masturbation thing that regular teenage boys experience. Middle school was spent training and studying and aiming for UA instead of stealing his Dad’s page three collection (Katsuki probably would’ve figured out he was gay much sooner if he’d rummaged around his Dad’s page threes when he was 14).

Katsuki has eyes, and a penis – he knows that Izuku is a walking wet dream. He’s still not entirely sure how he landed the sexiest boyfriend in the world, either, but it’s a very recent development. After having spent years pining over Izuku, Katsuki couldn’t help but pathetically spill his guts after giving Izuku the iron suit, about two months ago now. But, to Katsuki, they’ve been together their whole lives.

The only problem is they haven’t had sex yet. 

Neither of them have initiated anything, and jerking off is only getting him so far. Katsuki hadn’t spent much time questioning whether he’s a top or a bottom until he spontaneously bought a Deku themed dildo from the dodgy corner store at the weekend and rode it all the way into next week. Now, if Izuku doesn’t plough him into tears at the earliest convenience, Katsuki thinks he might just go mad.

And– look. He’s pretty fucking sure that Izuku would be fine with sex. More than fine. Izuku’s just waiting for Katsuki to make the first move because he’s a gentleman or whatever. But it’s not like Katsuki can just walk up to Izuku and say “hey, wanna fuck?"  because that’s seriously fucking weird. Bakugou Katsuki does not beg. He’ll just have to figure out a way for Izuku to make the first move.

After about three weeks, Katsuki’s starting to lose his patience. 

He’s embarrassed to admit that he resorted to googling how to make a move on my boyfriend at least three times last week. All that happened is Katsuki got annoyed, particularly at the WikiHow post How to Get Your Boyfriend’s Attention Sexually. He still tried all of the fucking points, though.

The first point was make seductive eye contact with him. The problem is that Katsuki has resting bitch face syndrome and Izuku always thinks he’s done something to piss Katsuki off.

The second point was to give him flattering compliments. Apparently, “your eyes are the same colour as that toxic waste monster’s slime that we fought last week” isn’t a compliment.

The third point was make him feel hot with gentle touching. Now, Katsuki thought this would be the one – he has explosive hands, for fuck sake! – but all he did was leave burn marks on Izuku’s shoulder.

The fourth point was use his name in conversation. You can see why Katsuki had a hard time getting this one to be effective.

The fifth point was wear a seductive or nostalgic perfume. Now, Izuku always said that Katsuki smelled nice or whatever — like a bonfire? Katsuki didn’t care — But this idea sounded foolproof. After work, Katsuki took himself down to the cologne store and picked up this one bottle that smelled like sandalwood and sex. (Or what he thinks sex smells like). Unfortunately, it seemed that Izuku was allergic to one of the ingredients, and they spent the rest of the evening in the emergency room. 

The sixth point was flaunt the physical features he loves about you. Christ on a bike, Katsuki even whipped out the first version of his hero suit for Ponytail’s costume party last week, pecs and biceps galore, and Izuku didn’t immediately whip his dick out. What more can a man do?!

There were more steps, but Katsuki had started to lose faith. The anger, frustration and disappointment is seeping out of his pores like a toxic waste. Why doesn’t Izuku want him? Is Katsuki really not good enough?

He thinks he’s doing a good job of masking his negativity. Really, he does. Katsuki doesn’t notice that the interns at the agency are avoiding him like the plague (more than usual) because his palms are literally smoking 24/7 now.

Katsuki loudly and carelessly pushes his way through the front door of his apartment. It’s not a surprise to see Izuku standing in his kitchen as he gave the dork a spare key, but he can’t bring himself to look over and give him a smile (or a Katsuki version of a smile).

He kicks off his boots, trying to shove the frustration down where it won't show. It's not like Katsuki is mad at him, and he's trying his hardest not to make it seem that way.

"Welcome home, Kacchan!" Izuku's voice floats from the kitchen, bright and warm like always. Too damn fucking happy all the time. Katsuki only wishes he could be that chirpy.

Katsuki grunts in response and heads straight to the living room, dropping onto the couch. He closes his eyes. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Repeat until he feels better. 

But of course Izuku isn't having any of it. He hears the sound of soft footsteps approaching before the cushion dips beside Katsuki. He cracks an eye open and, yeah, sure as shit, there he is. Green eyes, full of concern, biting his lip. He's so fucking hot, and it’s not helping.

"You okay?" Izuku asks. His voice is softer now, careful.

"I'm fine," Katsuki lies, but it comes out as much more of a snap. He didn't mean for that to come out so harsh. "Just tired."

Izuku doesn't buy it. Katsuki can tell that by the way he stays quiet, still sitting too close. He can feel the warmth radiating off Izuku's body like a star and for some reason, Katsuki's chest tightens.

"Kacchan..." he starts, and Katsuki can already hear the worry deepening in his voice.

Katsuki sighs, running a hand down his face. "I said I'm fine, dammit." His voice is rougher this time, which only makes him internally cringe – like it'll take just more than saying he's fine to convince Izuku. "Just a shit day at work."

Izuku doesn't say anything for a second. He keeps looking at Katsuki like he's a puzzle Izuku has to solve. And shit, if that doesn't make Katsuki feel worse. He doesn't deserve Izuku fussing over him, not when he's being such a brat. It's just sex. Maybe if Katsuki just grew a pair and finally made a move. Be a man and fucking do something–

"Okay," he finally says, so soft that Katsuki almost misses it. But he doesn't miss the scarred, rough hand on Katsuki's own, tentative at first, like Izuku was waiting to see if Katsuki would pull away.

Katsuki doesn't. He can't, really. Katsuki doesn't have it in him.

His skin shivers when Izuku's thumb brushes over Katsuki's knuckles. It's a small gesture, but works like a release valve – letting out just enough pressure to keep Katsuki from exploding.

The problem is, Katsuki has always been an all or nothing kind of guy. He can't take just enough pressure. The skin on skin contact feels like a fuse has been lit under his skin, igniting all of his blood vessels like fireworks, and he can’t fucking take it anymore. Something in Katsuki just shifts and… well, his body moves on its own.

In one swift movement, Katsuki spins round and straddles Izuku’s lap, not letting go of his hand at all. This close to Izuku, their noses almost touching, Katsuki can feel the warmth of Izuku’s breath on his lips. He wants to dip down and bite Izuku’s plump lips, but he doesn’t. The gravity of Katsuki’s actions are finally starting to settle in, and holy shit, holy shit, why did he just–

“Kacchan?” Izuku asks with a tremor of nervousness in his voice. A faint red was making itself known on Izuku’s cheeks, and Katsuki decided that he likes how much it makes the freckles stand out.

Sweat accumulates on his brow and hands through the tension. Katsuki’s heart is beating so fast that if Edgeshot could hear it now, he’d worry it was going to give out again. 

“I… Shit. I dunno what came over me,” is all Katsuki can find the courage to say. It’s weak and croaky and he hates how pathetic he sounds. He pathetically scrambles off of Izuku’s lap – or rather, Katsuki tries to, because Izuku is holding his wrist in a goddamn vice grip. Even without One For All, this fucker is strong.

"Kacchan... What's going on?" Izuku's voice is softer now, but more urgent. His eyes are practically drilling a hole into Katsuki's skull, but Katsuki can't bring himself to look at them for more than a microsecond, lest his heart breaks or he loses his shit.

"It's nothing," Katsuki mutters and once again tries to escape the prison that is Izuku's lap. When he realises his escape methods are a fruitless effort, Katsuki sighs and turns towards the TV just to avoid looking at Izuku's gaze. The TV isn't even on, dammit, it's just a black screen reflecting the room back at him. Reflecting Katsuki back at him, with the tension in his shoulders and the guilt on his face. It's disgusting.

A timid hand reaches up and strokes Katsuki's cheek – the scarred one. Katsuki hates how much he softens under Izuku's grip. The palm cups Katsuki's cheek and like a pliant doll, he relaxes into the touch and lets Izuku turn his head to face him again.

"Kacchan." Izuku's voice is barely above a whisper now. "Did something happen? At work? You don’t seem yourself."

The grip on Katsuki's cheek becomes tighter. It's not painful or harsh or aggressive, but rather it's gentle and insistent. It tries to anchor Katsuki to something solid, to ground him.

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from speaking. But Izuku – Izuku's so close, too close, and every inch of Katsuki's skin feels like it's burning under his grip. He smells too fucking good, Katsuki can feel the heat rolling off him, and it's driving him crazy. Izuku has no idea what he's doing to Katsuki, and he can't keep pretending he's fine when all he wants is–

"Dammit!" Katsuki shouts, but it's more at himself than at Izuku. But when Izuku's thumb ghosts over Katsuki's jawbone, Katsuki loses it. “No, I’m not myself. I just need–”

"Wait. Were you hit by a quirk?" Izuku's eyes widen, and that's when Katsuki finally turns to face him. He can practically see the cogs turning in Izuku's head. "You've been acting odd for a while now, but today was the worst. Like, when you tried to compliment me, and when you burnt my shoulders, and when you wore a new cologne. Kacchan, were you hit by a quirk and you didn't tell me? What quirk is it?"

Now... Bakugou Katsuki is not a liar. The sheer thought of the words that are about to spill makes his stomach churn, but somehow, he still can't stop himself.

"It's... it's a lust quirk," Katsuki finally spits out. The words taste like ash in his mouth and he almost gags saying such untrue things. "Some fan hit me with it like, I dunno, two weeks ago? Three? And now I can't stop–"

He bites back the rest of the sentence. Katsuki clamps his jaws shut before he says something he can't take back, but it's too late, of course it's too fucking late. There's no turning back now.

Izuku's face flushes pink, and Katsuki can see the realisation dawn on him. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. "A lust quirk?" Izuku echoes croakily. "How... What?"

In a moment of bravery, Katsuki's hands cup Izuku's jawline and pulls him closer, the tips of their noses touching. Izuku still looks like a deer caught in headlights, but Katsuki's told the lie and now he's gotta stick with it. "It's been fucking with my head for weeks, making it impossible to focus on anything but you."

Katsuki expects Izuku to shove him off his lap and run for the hills. Or to trip over his words and insist that they seek proper quirk guidance to monitor Katsuki’s condition and then Katsuki’s lie gets caught out and Izuku breaks up with him and marries some ugly woman and they have ugly babies and Katsuki never sees him again and Katsuki dies alone and miserable as the number 27 hero or some shit.

He doesn’t expect Izuku to flip their positions and slam Katsuki laying flat into the sofa, Izuku crawling on top of him and pushing Katsuki’s hips upwards. As if their faces weren’t close together before, Izuku is practically breathing in the air that Katsuki exhales. He fears that the semi he’s sporting might soon become a full-on erection that Izuku is definitely going to feel in about thirty seconds. 

“Kacchan, are you horny? Is it that kind of lust quirk?” Izuku asks way too eagerly. Katsuki chokes on his spit.

It’s not like Katsuki even has a chance to reply, though, as Izuku is already brushing his nose along Katsuki’s jawline. “Is it the kind where you have to fuck someone to get over it? Do you have to cum a specific number of times? Do you have to be fucked, or can you be the one doing the fucking?”

Jesus fucking Christ, it’s like Izuku was dreaming about this moment.

“Shit, ah.” Katsuki can’t help but buck his hips up towards Izuku’s. He doesn’t have it in him to feel embarrassed by how fucking hard he is, not when Izuku is this close and is breathing hot air onto Katsuki’s sensitive jawline, mouthing along his Adam’s apple. “No fucking idea. But jerking off isn’t solving it, so I think it’s gotta be more.”

The next time Katsuki bucks his hips and aching crotch upwards, it meets another equally-hard body part in Izuku’s boxers. The friction entices a desperate groan from Izuku.

“You’ve been touching yourself?” Izuku asks and Katsuki swears it sounded more like a pained, affronted gasp. When Izuku starts grinding against Katsuki and sucks on his earlobe, Katsuki whimpers. “That’s so goddamn hot. I wish you’d told me sooner, though. You have no idea how badly I want you. I thought you didn’t want it.”

If Katsuki wasn’t so turned on, he’d be fucking enraged by that statement. What the fuck does he mean, Izuku wanted him badly? Why did he think Katsuki didn’t want sex, want Izuku? Why didn’t Izuku fucking make a move, then?!

The anger quickly dissipates when Izuku starts to nibble on Katsuki’s sweat-damp neck. Fuck, Katsuki has never known pleasure like it. He gulps and inhales harshly, trying to not seem desperate. But apparently, Izuku doesn’t mind sounding desperate.

“Can I fuck you, Kacchan?” He whines, dropping his forehead on Katsuki’s shoulder and grinding their crotches together. “Please let me fuck you. I need to be inside you. Oh my god.”

“What makes you think I’m even a bottom?” Katsuki barks with no real bite.

Izuku pulls back just to give him a look. 

“I mean yeah, okay, you’re right, but still–”

“Is that a yes, Kacchan?”

“Izuku, if you don’t touch me right now I might literally explode and kill us both,” Katsuki groans and bucks up against Izuku again.

Within seconds, Izuku captures Katsuki’s lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. It’s bordering on violent just how much they open up their mouths to get enough of one another. You’d think it’s their first kiss with how clumsy it is, but no, they’re both just desperate as fuck and Katsuki has never loved a kiss so much in his entire goddamn life. Katsuki throws his arms around Izuku’s shoulders, and Izuku uses his hands to push up Katsuki’s knees, still grinding against Katsuki’s hardening cock and desperate ass.

“Do you have lube in your room?” Izuku breaks the kiss to whisper, hands spreading across Katsuki’s chest.

“Fuckin’ obviously,” he rasps, arching into Izuku’s touch. “Get off me and get to my room.”

If Katsuki wasn’t there the day that Izuku lost his embers, he’d be convinced Izuku still had One For All. The sheer speed that Izuku shot into Katsuki’s bedroom convinces him that he saw specs of green lightning in the movement. Katsuki ignores the sting in his chest at the reminder, since he’s about to get fucked.

In a bold display of dominance, Izuku pushes Katsuki onto the bed and uses one foot on his chest to keep him at bay. Then, teasingly slow, Izuku strips off his t-shirt and jeans, forcing Katsuki to sit and watch instead of having the pleasure of stripping Izuku himself. It’s unfair, really. Katsuki should’ve been the one doing that.

Izuku grabs hold of Katsuki’s pants and shimmies them off, tracing his face dangerously close to Katsuki’s fully hard cock. But, strategic bastard, he carefully avoids ghosting his face along the tip of Katsuki’s cock, clothed under his boxers. He nearly groans at the absence. 

Now, Katsuki had originally hoped that his first time with Izuku was slow and passionate and sensual. Manipulating Izuku into consenting based on a lie was not the way Katsuki wanted to take this, but the guilt can’t settle for long once Izuku frees Katsuki’s cock from his boxers and swallows it down in one fell swoop. 

Katsuki knows Izuku hasn’t been with anybody else, but he starts to question it when Izuku sucks on Katsuki’s shaft so gently that Katsuki starts to see stars. The way his tongue flicks around the soft cockhead is enough to drive Katsuki insane. Like, he really knows his way around a cock, and he’s a virgin?

It takes all of Katsuki’s strength to not buck into Izuku’s mouth as he swallows down the entirety of Katsuki’s cock. The tight, wet heat of Izuku’s mouth, with drool dripping down his chin and pooling around Katsuki’s balls, sets off a sparkler inside of Katsuki’s gut.

“That feels great but – hng – I need you to fuck me already before I kill you,” Katsuki spits out with the last of his sanity. 

Izuku looks a little sad to pry his mouth away from Katsuki’s cock – a fact that Katsuki will file away for another conversation. He rummages around in the bedside drawer and retrieves what embarrassingly little lube is left (Katsuki’s been busy, okay?)

“Do you have a preferred position in mind?” Izuku asks so goddamn sweetly as he warms up the lube on his fingers, as if Katsuki gives a fuck. He just needs Izuku to destroy him.

Katsuki only shakes his head.

He doesn’t give Katsuki any time to prepare before his lubed-up finger (not fucking warmed up, thank you very much) is pressing against Katsuki’s rim.

“Are you ready?” He asks, finger swirling around the rim. The feeling is strange – Katsuki usually just goes straight for the fingering, none of this teasing shit. It’s not exactly turning him on, but he kinda wants Izuku to do this forever.

“Always have been,” Katsuki says.

The finger carefully breaches the rim and Katsuki gasps. Okay, his own fingers inside his asshole is already a weird enough feeling, but someone else’s fingers is even crazier. It’s not good… yet… but it’s not bad either. 

He can feel that only the first bit of Izuku’s knobbly-ass finger is inside right now, pumping in and out, and Katsuki is already getting impatient. “More.”

“Kacchan,” whines Izuku. “I don’t wanna hurt you. It’s not like this quirk magically prepared your asshole for me.”

Shit, that’s a good idea. Maybe Katsuki should’ve prepped himself. Oh well, something for next t—

There won’t be a next time.

Izuku will break up with him when he finds out.

Katsuki swallows down that thought and rocks a little on Izuku’s finger, taking in more of it until it bottoms out. A second finger is added at some point later, Katsuki can’t figure out when, and the stretch burns, but holy fuck Katsuki’s never felt such a delicious burn before.

He must have made a noise, he’s not sure what it was, but all he hears is Izuku shushing him kindly. “Mmm, do you get yourself off with a dildo often, or do you just open up this easily for me?” Izuku says as sweet as fucking sugar. “Ah, there you go. You look so good. Just a little longer, Kacchan.”

The third finger is what really gets Katsuki squirming. Izuku tickles that good spot like he’s been practising or some shit, and Katsuki sees stars. This is so much better than a dildo already.

When Izuku pulls out, the emptiness entices a pathetic whine from Katsuki. He didn’t even know that he was capable of making such a pathetic noise. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” Izuku says dumbly. 

“You’d fucking better,” Katsuki hisses and pulls his knees up close to his chest.

Izuku only laughs gently and shakes his head, gripping his cock at the base and pressing the lube-slick cockhead against Katsuki’s prepped asshole. The cock is thick and Katsuki starts to worry a little bit for the state of his asshole.

With a deep breath, Izuku nods to himself and starts to push in. 

Okay, shit. That Deku themed dildo did not prepare Katsuki for this stretch. He still practises his breathing – inhale, hold, exhale, hold – but Izuku is so much bigger than Katsuki had anticipated. Shit. Shit. Shit!

With every second that Izuku slowly enters him, Katsuki feels his brain starting to short-circuit. His breathing becomes shallower and it must be obvious how much he’s struggling when Izuku starts to speak.

“You’re taking me so well, Kacchan,” Izuku coos. “God, you’re so tight. I’ll go nice and slow for you, Kacchan. You’re so perfect.”

The stretch doesn’t get better until Izuku finally bottoms out, holding their position for a few moments to give Katsuki a chance to get used to it.

“That feel okay?” Izuku raises a hand to stroke Katsuki’s cheek, thumb ghosting the scar – the tenderest of gestures. 

Katsuki can only blink away the tears forming in his eyes. He doesn’t know why his eyes are stinging, dammit. It doesn’t hurt that much. “Gimme a minute.”

“Of course.” He kisses Katsuki’s leg, raising it up towards Izuku’s body. The action practically folds Katsuki in half, but he finds himself not minding it. It feels much better this way.

They bask in the silence for what feels like an eternity as Katsuki gets used to the feeling of Izuku’s big fucking cock inside him. The pain starts to ebb away, and he’s just left with a strange fullness. Not good, or bad, just… full. 

“Okay,” Katsuki says breathlessly. “You can move.”

Holding Katsuki with a tighter grip, Izuku nods. They make eye contact and tell each other I love you without any words, and then Izuku pulls out a little. It’s not a lot at first, when he pulls out and thrusts back into Katsuki gently, but fuck does it feel good.

Izuku tests the waters with tender thrusts, only pulling out maybe an inch before pushing his cock back in. Katsuki can’t help the guttural moan that escapes from him when Izuku hits that good spot. He knows that Izuku is feeling smug about it when a shit-eating grin appears on his face for just a split second, before that signature focused look returns. 

He’s so goddamn cute when he’s focused. Katsuki won’t ever tire of seeing it.

You won’t get to see it for long. He’ll break up with you when he finds out you lied.

“Harder,” Katsuki demands, cringing when he realises how slutty that came out. 

It doesn’t appear to phase Izuku, though. The flush on his freckled cheeks deepen as he pulls nearly entirely out of Katsuki and slams back in at a force that could’ve been done with a little One For All, stealing the air from Katsuki’s lungs.

And yeah, the angle of that thrust is perfect. 

Katsuki knows that this is Izuku’s first time too, but how is he aiming his thrusts perfectly every single time? He’s probably done some nerdy equation in his head that mathematically deduced where Katsuki’s prostate was so that he could hit it dead-on every single time. The intensity of the pleasure brings tears to Katsuki’s eyes.

He wants to cum untouched, Katsuki believes Izuku is capable of making that happen, but he’s not used to lying back and doing nothing. A shaky hand reaches down and grips his leaky cock in his hand, the sweat from his palms adding just a little bit of moisture that he needs.

Izuku’s forehead, sweat-slick and green curls stuck to it, drops onto Katsuki’s equally-sweaty shoulder. He peppers sloppy kisses along Katsuki’s collarbone. “You feel – oh! – so good,” Izuku gasps, still driving into Katsuki with force.

This is so fucking much. The stimulation on his dick, the feeling of Izuku inside him, Izuku being so fucking sweet – Katsuki can see the pink blush on his cheeks from his position on his shoulder. It’s overwhelming. He never wants it to end.

A sob escapes Katsuki’s mouth. He’s not sure why it sounds more like a sob than a moan of pleasure, but he’s never been fucked this good before. (Well, he’s never been fucked. The dildo doesn’t really count).

“Kacchan?” Izuku pulls himself up from the crook of Katsuki’s neck and stills inside him. 

“Why have you stopped?” His voice trembles a bit, for some reason, but Katsuki puts it down to exhaustion. 

Izuku’s hand comes up to Katsuki’s face. The thumb brushes softly along Katsuki’s cheek – it feels wet. Why does it feel wet?

Izuku looks at Katsuki with worried eyes, looking at him like his heart is breaking. Katsuki can only frown. He opens his mouth to speak, but– 

“Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

Those words, that tone – it takes him back to a moment in their childhood. It’s the same look of concern that Izuku gave him all those years ago, down by the river. The outstretched hand to help him up is now wiping away tears on Katsuki’s face. Wait – when did Katsuki start crying? 

Katsuki shakes his head. “You could never hurt me, Izuku.” It comes out softer than intended, more gentle, rather than insistent like he wanted. He’s fine. Honest.

Of course, Izuku doesn’t believe it. Katsuki’s not even sure he believes it himself. Izuku shifts his legs, while still inside Katsuki, so that he’s able to look at him more clearly. “So why are you crying, Kacchan?” Izuku’s eyes shine a much brighter green, lip wobbling– No, no, no. Izuku can’t cry. Katsuki can’t bear to see it. “What’s wrong?”

Katsuki traps his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard to suppress a tremble. The lie had been crushing Katsuki’s chest like a dead weight but the pressure is finally ramping up, Katsuki’s ribs are cracking, and his heart can’t cope with lying to Izuku.

“Is it the quirk? Is it hurtin–”

“There is no quirk.” The words tumble out, raw and broken. 

Izuku freezes. "What?"

Katsuki pushes his palms against his eyes in a sorry attempt to stop the tears from flowing. It doesn't work, of course it doesn't, but at least Katsuki can't see Izuku anymore. He can't see the disappointment on Izuku's face. "It's not real."

"W-What do you mean, it's not real?" Izuku's voice is laced with anxiety and something else that Katsuki can't place. It's hatred, he decides. It's got to be.

"I wasn't hit with some quirk." Katsuki rasps, and then chokes on a sob. "I couldn't figure out how to tell you that I wanted to sleep with you. You weren't picking it up, and it was driving me nuts. It's been eating me alive for weeks. So when you thought I’d been hit by a quirk, I... I lied."

Izuku's breath hitches. The silence feels like it goes on for hours, Katsuki's certain he feels Izuku soften inside him, and he knows that this is the end. 

More tears spill over, hot and unwelcome. Katsuki can't stop the sobs hiccupping through the silence now, can't stop the way his body shakes and trembles, using his forearms to cover his entire face.

Katsuki doesn't expect to feel Izuku gather him up in his arms. One hand cups the back of Katsuki's head and tenderly strokes his hair, the other wrapping around Katsuki's shoulders and manoeuvring his head into Izuku's shoulder. 

Katsuki doesn't know how long he cries in Izuku's arms. With every loving action from Izuku – stroking his hair, kissing his head – Katsuki only cries harder. He doesn't deserve this.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, but his voice is muffled against Izuku's shoulder and he's not sure Izuku hears it. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Kacchan," Izuku murmurs, pressing his lips against Katsuki's temple. "Don't be sorry. I get it."

The last of Katsuki's defences crumble as the tears keep coming. Izuku doesn't let go, doesn't pull back, just holds Katsuki like he's the only thing stopping him from falling apart completely.

Maybe he is.

Izuku's quiet hushes and coos finally lead Katsuki's sobs to subside. The crying fest makes him feel drained and exposed and vulnerable, but also... a bit lighter. Something in his stomach still churns uncomfortably, though. Katsuki pulls back and wipes at his tear-streaked face with a shaky hand.

When he finally looks up, Izuku doesn't look angry or disappointed. Instead, he's smiling softly, his eyes filled with nothing but that stupid fucking unwavering affection that Katsuki doesn't deserve.

"Feel better?"

Katsuki nods, and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

Izuku smiles. It's not his super-soft loving smile – No. This is something different. It's mischievous. Katsuki's not sure he's ever seen it. "Did you really pretend to be hit with a lust quirk because you were too shy to ask me to fuck you?"

Now Katsuki can feel his cheeks burning up. It's so embarrassing when he puts it like that. 

Tch. Katsuki deigns to not give it a response.

The mischievous grin only widens, and Izuku leans over and nibbles on Katsuki's earlobe, enticing a soft gasp. "You know... That's really sexy. I had no idea Kacchan wanted me so bad. Desperation looks good on you."

Katsuki doesn't have much time to process those words. At some point during his ugly breakdown, it seemed that Izuku pulled out and Katsuki didn't even notice the emptiness, but he's very pointedly aware of the sudden wet hardness poking his taint, rocking back and forth against it very gently.

After nibbling on Katsuki's earlobe, Izuku trails down to his jawline and licks a sloppy, wet stripe along it. "And you’re such a pretty crier. I should feel a little embarrassed by how hard your crying session got me, but... I don't."

Oh.

Izuku’s a fucking freak.

His tongue flicks over Katsuki’s nipple, and Katsuki instinctively arches his back at the touch, his cock brushing against Izuku’s rock-hard abs.

“Ohmygod,” Katsuki whines, so fucking high-pitched, but his brain is too fried to give a fuck. “Please, please, Izuku, fuck me.”

It’s like Izuku was waiting for those magic words. He’d already lined up his cockhead with Katsuki’s asshole and he pushes in with one long, hard thrust, and Katsuki all but fucking screams. 

Izuku drives in at a much more relentless force, now – before, it felt intimate and special and loving. Now, Izuku is like a feral animal in heat, his hands grabbing Katsuki’s waist so hard it hurts, but it’s such a good fucking pain. Izuku’s hands nearly span round the entire circumference of Katsuki’s waist, he feels so small and submissive under Izuku’s touch like this, it’s so hot, it’s so hot–

“What do I have to do to get Kacchan to cry during sex more often?” Izuku pants, thrusting with such a vigour that Katsuki nearly smacks his head on the headboard.

Well, not by smacking my fucking head open!

His sweaty hands grab hold of Izuku’s arms, his thighs, his shoulders, whatever he can fucking cling to. Katsuki can hear himself pathetically moaning Izuku, Izuku, Izuku over and over again, caught in the humidity around them.

Izuku leans over and sinks his teeth into Katsuki’s collar like he’s a fucking vampire. Katsuki howls and claws at Izuku’s back, wrapping his legs around Izuku’s strong torso and clinging on as much as he can.

“Do I need to degrade him? Do you like being humiliated, Kacchan?” Izuku asks in a low growl directly into Katsuki’s ear.

Katsuki shakes his head and whimpers.

“Oh?” He hums, and bites Katsuki’s neck again, sucking a really fucking noticeable bruise right on the side of his neck. “Do you like it when I shower you with compliments, instead? Tell you how pretty you look, crying and impaled on my cock?”

More hot tears stream down Katsuki’s already damp cheeks, nodding dramatically on the pillows and wailing as Izuku repeatedly rams into his prostate. Over and over and over.

This feeling must be like a natural high. Katsuki’s never felt such pleasure before. It’s a fire coursing through his veins, his cock is throbbing, his gut is getting hotter and hotter.

“Oh, Kacchan. It’s like you were made for my cock. You take it so well,” Izuku’s mumbling, it sounds like it’s to himself, but then Katsuki actually hears what he’s saying. “Tell me how well you take it. I want to hear you say it.”

He’s not sure what comes over him, but through his stupid sniffles, Katsuki finds himself repeating, “I take it so well, I take it so well. Fuck, I take it so well, Izuku.”

Shit. When Katsuki had spent all those lonely nights fucking himself with a dildo and imagining it was Izuku, he was underestimating two things: the size of Izuku’s cock and how much fucking better Izuku is.

Katsuki’s legs shake around Izuku’s hips; a telltale sign that he’s close. He cries, “Izuku– Izuku. I’m– Shit–”

He doesn’t feel the urge to reach for his cock again; Katsuki’s balls are already tightening as Izuku drives up the pace even more than Katsuki thought was possible. With a loud sob, Katsuki cums. Thick white ropes coat his abs and stomach, and Izuku’s, clenching around the fullness still inside him. 

It must be the clenching that does it for Izuku, too. Only seconds later, Katsuki feels Izuku’s rhythm break and crumble, flooding the inside of Katsuki with a sudden warmth. Shit, a dildo cannot replicate that feeling.

Izuku just came inside him.

Izuku just came inside him. 

Izuku’s never looked more beautiful than when he’s cumming, Katsuki decides. The utterly debauched expression is a fucking work of art.

They take an eternity to catch their breaths. Izuku collapses on top of Katsuki, just getting even more of his spend all over Izuku, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His nose scrunches when Izuku’s softened, flaccid cock slips out along with what feels like fifty gallons of spunk dripping out of his asshole, but that sounds like a future Katsuki problem.

“Hey, Kacchan?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not mad, y’know.”

Katsuki gulps. “You should be. I don’t know what came over me.”

Izuku chuckles lightly, which Katsuki thinks is inappropriate given the circumstances. He lays his head on Katsuki’s shoulder and says, “I meant what I said about it being sexy.”

“I’m not sure what part of emotional manipulation is considered sexy,” Katsuki says with a heavy sigh.

“Kacchan being so horny for me is the sexiest thing ever.” He runs a scarred, tender finger down Katsuki’s cleavage, taking extra care over the scar on his chest. “And, for what it’s worth, I wanted to rip your clothes off the second we started dating.”

It feels like a weight off Katsuki’s shoulders, even if he doesn’t really understand why Izuku feels this way. It shouldn’t matter – apparently they’re stuck together for life.

“Hey, Izuku?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

Izuku lifts his head off Katsuki’s shoulder and looks him in the eye. He looks like he’s about to start crying next, but at least that makes two of them crying in this bed today. 

“I love you too, Kacchan,” Izuku says with the biggest smile that Katsuki’s seen in years.

The next morning, Katsuki leaves a comment on the WikiHow steps article.

Hey losers, I followed these steps and they were pure ass. Not a single fucking trick worked. But do you know what did work? Pretending to get hit by a lust quirk and manipulating him into fucking you. If you’re incapable of experiencing guilt, it’s foolproof. Sincerely, someone who got thoroughly dicked last night.