Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Katsuki's last day at the office before the weekend had been ridiculously eventful.

Mentally, he was fried. His brain hurt in the complete absence of downtime, the stack of unedited and unsubmitted reports creating an endless pile of wasted trees on his work desk. He'd gotten through most of them without complaint, but naturally the completely blank ones ended up at the very bottom. He spent the afternoon berating his assistant about it, despite her compliance, and spent two hours after close trying to file everything correctly. It's his agency of course, but the reports went up the corporal ladder and he couldn't risk scrutiny from any of those assholes either. He wasn't the kind of hero to make everyone else do his own paperwork, despite the common practice in Japan's workforce.

The evening was miserable too, and he cursed drinking culture for mandating these kinds of gatherings in the first place. Every Friday night the pros in the area would go out to a local bar. Usually it was always the same place downtown Shibuya, but lucky for him they had chosen a place closer to his flat in Roppongi Hills tonight.

So here he was, after a ten hour day, sitting at a bar with a full glass of beer and an empty social battery. Nobody really cared about him being there, but insisted he come anyways since it was someone's birthday, though he couldn't remember who's.

“You're seriously asking the guy with ten pound wings if his back hurts?” Mirko toys, like it was a silly question to have asked in the first place. Of course his back would hurt, that much was common sense even to Katsuki. In fact, many pro heros had to go through physical therapy because of injuries and overworked muscles. 

He's dazed out about the topic when the group erupts in laughter, causing him to turn and address the noise.

“Considering how quirks and the kind of body the person has go hand in hand, it's a valid question! One would assume his body could outlast his given quirk…if he has it by natural causes of course.” Mirio responds, his attitude annoyingly bright.

“No question is a stupid question kid, I promise.” Hawks replies to a clueless Kaminari. “Yeah, my back hurts sometimes, but it's usually after a really long flight. I can withstand the weight no problem, but using them is just like using your arms. If you work out for eight hours straight they're gonna feel like jello.”

“Wow…” Kaminari nods, eyes sparkling like he's just learned the secret to life. But that's how he always looks…might be the electricity getting to his head.

“So, do you use ice packs on em or something?” Sero asks next, adding to the curiosity.

“Nah, I usually leave the de-stressing to my masseuse.”

“Your…what?”

“A masseuse is a professional massager, but they are usually referred to as massage therapists.” Mirio recites like he's a damn dictionary. The group is chuckling again at the topic, though Katsuki is acting uninterested on purpose despite it catching his ears too.

“So do they specifically cater to people with wings or something?” Another person in the group asks.

“Nono, even people who are quirkless go to them. It can help with all sorts of things, kinda like a chiropractor but…more gentle and less cracking…usually.” Hawks explains.

“Hey, maybe you'd benefit from that kinda thing Kats!” Kirishima pipes up annoyingly, adding him into the conversation non consensually.

“Like hell I would.” He grumbles in response, keeping his body slouched and brows furrowed.

“Ya gotta bad back too Dynamight?” Hawks  asks.

“No.” He replies plainly.

“That's definitely a lie, you were just talking about muscle soreness with Sero the other day.” Kaminari is looking at him with a god awful gawdy smirk and it's making his anger spike.

“Yeah, his muscle soreness, not mine.” He bites back at the other pro.

“Where is this place anyways?” Eijirou asks, almost like he recognizes the way Katsuki is becoming more than uncomfortable with the subject. He even mouthed a ‘sorry’ when everyone's attention was turned back to the winged hero.

“It's called Hurt and Comfort, down on Nobara here in Roppongi actually. I’m headed there after this.” Hawks adds, one of his big red wings picking up and pointing in the same direction as his hand, north.

“Ohh I think I've walked past that place a few times while on patrol!” Eijirou nods as he listens.

“Best one in town, if I could give it a rating. Cute green haired guy there that does a great job.” As a single pro, the man was constantly flirting with the locals. Katsuki's nose twitched as he thought about the comment. Hawks was one of the few men who'd been open about their sexuality, especially in a field such as their own. Once it's out? It's out.

“Oooo what's his name?” Kaminari asks slyly.

“Deku.”

The group giggles, almost like gossiping middle schoolers, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. What kind of parents would name their kid Deku of all things?

Still, it lingers on his tongue longer than the shitty Kirin that night.

✦

Katsuki woke up around eight in the morning the next day. His limbs were believably sore, and his shoulders felt stiff as hell. It wasn’t unusual, and given the week he just had it was looking like another weekend in bed. It’s not that he actually wanted to go out every day, especially on his days off which were few and far between. This was his first Saturday off in over five weeks. Hell yeah he was going to stay in bed as much as possible.

He spent the morning limping around lazily, making a decent sized breakfast and starting the laundry. Mundane things in comparison to his busy and sporadic life.

Unfortunately, these activities were also short lived. By about noon he was getting a phone call from work, and he was suiting up and heading into the agency to help. He brought his lunch with him, not that he'd have any time to eat anyways. When he had first started out his career as a pro hero things were different. He was excited, felt young and fresh and ready to swing into action any time of day.

Now?

General malaise.

He was always tired, always sleeping too much, and never actually recovering from all the work during the day. Things were too busy at his agency and he was only one person in a sea of villains and paperwork. Of course his assistant and Kirishima would help sometimes too. Ei had his own agency, and they teamed up often, but even then he could see the spark in his high school best friend more than he ever saw in himself.

He had arrested two villains by about three in the afternoon that day. A car thief with an electric type quirk and a punk kid stealing jewelry from a local apothecary. Petty crime was rarely a challenge for him, but he creaked and groaned each step of the way.

“Hey Dynamight, thanks for all your help today.” Pro hero Mount Lady calls with a wave. “Go ahead and call it a night!” 

He doesn’t argue with her, watching and wondering how she still keeps a positive attitude despite repeating the same crap on the daily.

His walk home is slower than usual, and he sighs every few minutes, a tired and weak groan as he trudges forwards lazily.

Eijirou would tell him it’s a lack of human connection, while Kaminari might tell him to go get laid. Two sides of the same damn coin, and they all knew it. They worried about him, and his loneliness, but they didn’t even know what it was like. Both of them had plenty of partners, plenty of nights out socializing and making friends and having a good time. 

His nights were strictly spent solo, often work filled and sleep deprived.

What was he supposed to do? Text a friend to go out and have drinks? They do that basically every night after work anyways.

He’s on the sidewalk, passing by restaurants and bars and small businesses when he remembers the massage parlor that Keigo talked about. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was still curious about the prospect. He knew of massage parlors and places that offered similar services, but he had never gotten to the point of needing one. The younger pro heros were always much more resilient and given a good ten years till they started to wear down.

He was maybe starting his third year now, and his bones fucking ached. Talk about an unforgiving profession…

Just for fun, he typed in the name of the shop. Checking around and doing some minor research couldn't hurt. He had the free time and nothing going on to disrupt a bit of curiosity.

Just for fun, he loads up the directions on his phone when he actually finds the place. Hurt and Comfort, a family owned business, was located just a few blocks from his current location. It had a four star rating and plenty of good reviews for something so small.

So naturally, just for fun, he makes a sharp left and down a back alleyway that emerges out into another large road. A few roads up and it was close enough that he could see it from where he stood, a large white sign with green leaves decorating the area around it. The business itself appeared to only be the first level, as an apartment complex or office space sat above it ten stories high. That was the usual for businesses off the main shopping center, some kind of consolidation effort for a city that was growing overpopulated.

Katsuki walks up to the building cautiously, looking at all the fliers and posters in the windows, prices and combos and deals taped to each one. He looked around him at the people walking by, like it was some secret spy mission before taking a closer look. It wasn't embarrassing to be out and about as a pro, but depending on the location, if someone recognized him it could be catastrophic.

If he’s being honest, the shop itself looked kind of run down to be regarded as mainstream. The windows were tinted so you couldn’t see inside, and something about the place just made Katsuki’s nose twitch.

So, why was he there?

He turns, about to step away when he hears boots coming towards the door and it swings open violently. An elderly woman is exiting the entrance, followed by another younger and much taller woman waving goodbye to her. He sits and waits off to the side, observing before the woman looks in his direction. She's got dark brown hair, brown eyes, and is completely covered in pink.

“Oh! My apologies for blocking your way sir, here, come inside.”

She holds the door open for him and well fuck, now he really couldn’t say no could he?

He walks inside and is instantly hit with the smell of floral and honey. There’s a small waterfall at the desk and he can hear what sounds like wind chimes.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asks him as she makes her way back to the desk.

“Uh, no I just…wanted to stop by.”

“Oh not a problem! Go ahead and sign in, I’ll set you up with our on-calls.”

“No, I mean, I just-“ he starts, but can’t even finish his sentence before the woman disappears completely behind a row of beads, into a back room of sorts. 

He sighs, slouching and wasting time by looking around the waiting room. At least it’s not as shady on the inside as it looks on the outside. It’s got a few chairs and a table with various magazines about beauty products and…something that looks oddly like the Vogue magazine he’d covered in. He steps over to the table, pushing aside the top issue and trying to peer at the subject of the other. He jumps when she appears out of nowhere to greet him the opposite direction she had come.

“Right this way!” She calls.

No forms, no identification, no nothing, and he’s being hustled into a room at the end of a long hall.

“Just wait here and someone will be with you momentarily okay?”

He nods, and she practically slams the door shut before he can even open his mouth again.

“What the hell.” He grumbles, turning to look at the room he'd just been locked into 

To his surprise though, it looks like a regular ass room. The walls are painted black and it smells like vanilla. It’s got another mini waterfall looking device on a table by two chairs and the whole room is dimmed, a few accent lights along the wall. He checks his phone, no new messages or emails to attend to so he just simply shoves it away.

Then the door opens again, and his head whips around.

In walks a man slightly shorter than himself with the darkest shade of green hair he thinks he’s ever seen. His eyes were a deep emerald shade, his expression bright and slips curved up into a soft smile. He was dressed in what looked like a robe of sorts.

“Good evening! My name is Deku, I'll be your therapist to-.”

He's already cringing at the sounds of it, unprepared for the general embarrassment that came with talking to a person who massages people for a living, of all things. But when the voice stops abruptly, he turns, giving an eye to the employee again.

He wasn't prepared for the awe stricken gaze that met his own, nor the clatter of the clipboard when it drops somehow farther than Deku's jaw had.

“Oh my god.” He squeaks, and it's almost scares Katsuki the way he’s stunned in place.

For a second he forgets who he was.

oh.

“What, never seen a pro in person before, nerd?”

His jaw snaps shut, and Katsuki’s eyebrows arch in question.

“S-Sorry, I'm sorry.” The green haired man stutters as he kneels down to pick up his pad of paper. “I'm just…surprised! That's..that's all.”

He stands back up, brushing at his robe styled outfit and walks forward.

“I just..um, have a consent form for you to sign h-here.” Deku shakily hands him a piece of paper on a clipboard, one of those shitty black pens attached to it. 

“Mind if I ask…how um, how did you hear of us?” 

“A friend.” He says plainly as he signs the form without reading it.

“Well I'm very glad to hear it! Small businesses like us don't often get attention from, you know, pro heros.”

Katsuki is listening, but he doesn't really know what to say so he just nods. He hands the clipboard back to Deku, who is smiling pleasantly as he goes through it.

“Alright, we can get started now if you're ready?”

“I'm uh, not really sure how this works.” Katsuki admits, and Deku’s smile grows as he shakes his head. At least his therapist isn't sly and judgmental of him, so he feels comfortable to say that much.

“Oh that's no problem! If you'll start by laying face down on the table here I can feel out your problem spots. Then I'll have you remove as much of your clothing as you feel comfortable with. I can work around anything you'd like to keep on.”

He could tell it was a pre-programmed speech, because he only had on about three articles of clothing, two of which that would restrict the massage pretty intensely. He gets up from his seat and casually moves over to the table. It's padded, thankfully, and it looks almost like a chair you'd see in a tattoo shop or doctor's office. He lays down face first, arms tensing to lower his body carefully into the cushions. 

He hears the therapist moving around, opening a drawer of some sort behind him, but he doesn't speak.

“So, where do you hurt most? We can begin by relaxing those muscles and relieving the tension.” Deku’s attitude is somewhat more relaxed now as he speaks, less nerd-like and more professional.

“Uh..” He starts, rolling his shoulders and rotating his hips to try and replicate the soreness as he reaffirms the pain shooting down his shoulders and into his spine. But hell if he couldn't handle a few aches. Those were just normal for everybody.“I think I’m fine actually.”

“It’s okay if you feel good right now, and worse other times.” Deku replies, his tone changing into something like a professor would be as he starts to explain. “Some patients come in with minimal pain, while others start with a more intensive plan that'll help for long term recovery after accidents and sports related injuries.”

He shifts slightly as he feels hands on his back, unannounced. They start to prod at the top of his back and edges of his shoulders, moving very slowly, but firmly palming into them. He holds his breath as to not groan out loud by the feeling of soreness that crescendos through each muscle as Deku moves.

“Does this hurt?” He asks, pressing firmly into the middle of his back on both sides of his spine. 

“Not really.” Katsuki grits out through a closed mouth snarl, lying, obviously. 

“And this?” He moves up a bit more and presses down in the same way, rolling his fingers and causing Katsuki to clench at the feeling of discomfort again.

“Nope.” He answers precisely this time, but he can't help but let out the strain in his voice.

“Are you sure? Your whole back is as tense as a rock.” Deku says, continuing to feel down his back, poking and prodding.

“How are your legs?” 

“They're fine.” Katsuki retorts with more attitude this time.

He hears a soft hum from Deku, and then more fingers on his calves, followed by a sudden roll of his palm. He hisses, flinching at the jolt of pain that runs up his groin.

“That doesn't sound fine.” Deku admits, his tone light, but Katsuki could tell he was taking this very seriously.

“Ugh, fine, yes everywhere hurts, whatever!” Katsuki growls, annoyed.

Deku huffs, like a soft chuckle before moving again with a more gentle push.

“You're really tense here too.” The massage therapist observes and Katsuki exhales as the feeling of being touched starts to normalize and it's not as intense. He's not familiar with other people's hands on him, and it's the one thing he's managed to avoid his whole career, save for a few carry and rescue missions with elderly folk who couldn't walk…and maybe the occasional hug from his parents.

“Yeah…'s what happens when you work overtime in the hero industry.” He grunts at another particularly hard squeeze of his lower thigh.

“I can believe it.” Deku replies. “A lot of people rely on you, and I understand it's a profession that is unforgiving in most cases. Do you work overtime every week?” 

“Who doesn’t?”

“I guess that’s valid…in a recent survey, the workforce stated that over 71% of Japan works overtime. That’s at least 22 hours extra or so. Pro heros are a big part of that, and I heard the commission was attempting to eliminate that by hiring more…not that it would change much.”

From the sounds of it, his massage therapist may know a thing or two about the pro hero industry. He wants to ask, but Deku is speaking again before he can.

“Alright, well, you weren't lying that time, when you said everywhere. Every muscle I can reach is tense. We'll start with your back and move on to your legs within the hour.” Deku's hands leave his body, and he can hear the man walking away again, so he turns his head.

“I'll give you a couple minutes. After you undress, you can lay face down on the table. I'll be back shortly!” Deku says as he's picking himself back up to sit on the table. 

“What um…” Katsuki starts, trying to snag him before he leaves. Deku looks back at him expectantly, bright and professionally as he stands straight and clasps his hands in front of him in waiting. “What do I take off?”

“Oh! Anything you are comfortable with. Most people leave their undergarments on, as it still provides them a bit of privacy. But it's up to you completely.”

He nods, and Deku leaves with a small bow as the door closes. He takes off his shirt and pants, but leaves his boxer briefs on. It made sense, and since he was wearing flexible ones it would be easy to work around. It's not like Deku would be touching him there of all places.

He's already laid face first again into the chair when Deku comes back in.

“Are you ready for me to start?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay! Since it's your first time, I'll go slow. Since you're so tight, you may feel a little pain at first, but if it becomes unbearable please let me know.” He explains.

“I'm a pro hero, not a wimp.” Katsuki grumbles, and Deku huffs a small laugh. He realizes very quickly how drawn he is to the noise, because it's fucking cute as hell. Not that his mind was there, of all places, but this was the exact person that Hawks had been gossiping about.

“That's true, but we all still feel pain. It’s a normal human response to discomfort…well, unless you have channelopathy.”

“I'll be fine.” He reassures.

“Okay. Just take some deep breaths and relax.” Deku instructs.

“I'm relaxed!” Katsuki insists, tone gravely as his voice raises. “Just get on with-”

He yelps sharply as there's a rough push to his back, warm wet hands digging into his shoulder blades.

“What the hell!” He growls when the feeling lets up again.

“I told you it would hurt!” Deku says panicked.

“Hurt, not feel like you're splitting my damn back open!”

“Should I go softer?”

“No, It’s fuckin fine.”

“If you're sure.” The masseur responds wearily.

“Just shut up and keep going.”

He groans at another particularly heavy push, but he grips the bottom of the padded table and grits his teeth. Whoever said this was relaxing was a fucking liar.

“You need to stop tensing up, Dynamight.”

His hero name causes his ears to perk up suddenly. Of course he signed the form as Dynamight, so that's all Deku would really know, but it sounded so normal on his lips, like he'd said it a million times before. The commission was generally open to hero’s signing without their full name, as it protects their identity while at home, with their families and what not. 

“Like hell I can relax when you're trying to put me in the ground.” He growls, and there's another laugh. It's irritating, his suffering being comical to another person, but for some reason it’s not irritating enough.

“I promise it'll feel better if you just take a few deep breaths, okay?”

He grumbles a little bit but does as he's told, fairly short breaths inhaled and long exhales accompany them. Deku presses his palm into the underside of his shoulder and he spasms again, claws digging into the chair some more.

“Easy, easy…” He cooes, and it's so soft and kind the way he says it, encouraging Katsuki to relax. And it fucking works. “Deep breaths…just like that.” 

Katsuki feels a heat pool inside him, the words rolling off his tongue quietly and alluring as if they were meant for a completely different kind of…activity. He’d take bets that Deku was probably a dirty talker in bed.

Where the hell was his mind?

But before he knows it, his hands are completely lax, dangling off the sides of the table. He's focused in on the way Deku's hands glide across his skin. The massage is a little bit more rough than what he imagined, but it's still hypnotizing as the massage therapist moves, rolling and pushing at his sore muscles. His eyes are halfway closed when Deku speaks again.

“How is this?”

“Better.” Katsuki mutters, not giving away his contentment.

“You're doing great.” Deku encourages.

“I know.” Katsuki says in a snarky tone, though the therapist doesn't respond.

By the end of the thirty minute session, he's basically drooling. The slow rolls of his calves and thighs is one of the most relaxing things he's ever experienced. His back was a less than pleasant experience unfortunately, but this made up for it for sure. He gives Katsuki a small pat on the upper thigh.

“I’m all done, you can sit up now.”

It takes him a year to do so, his body heavy and limp. But to his surprise, he can sit up straight without so much as a peep. Deku smiles at him as he sits with his legs off the edge of the chair.

“How are your hands?”

“My hands?”

“Well, yes, because of your quirk I assumed your arms and hands get sore too.”

“Guess I never notice if they are.”

“Do you want me to try rubbing them?” It's a funny offer, but he's curious as to what that means.

“Dunno, is it free?” He asks, and he hears Deku huff.

“It'll be included in your full massage cost, don't worry Dynamight, sir. I won't make you go broke.”

He scoffs, like it was even in the question. He had money to burn at this point.

Deku moves back towards him, and he’s suddenly remembering how nude he was. Being in his boxers doesn't really change much since he'd basically been feeling around his ass the whole night anyways though. Anyone would be a liar for not checking out a pro with such easy access. He'd never deny his attractiveness, and with the way Deku had reacted to him at first, he wouldn't be surprised if the kid popped a boner from getting to feel him up too.

“Here, hold out both your hands so that your arms are lying on your thighs.”

He follows directions without complaint this time. 

Deku is close enough to him now that he could smell the cologne radiating off of him, a mix between spices and sweets. He watches the way the massage therapist lifts his hand and feels the area out, as if there are specific muscles he could tell were tense or not. Then he moves up, pressing firmly into his arm and making his fingers clench reflexively.

But once Deku starts to move down the arm, he melts again. The sensation is alleviating as much as it is relaxing. He closes his eyes, continuing to breathe as he'd been instructed to. He ignores the fact that he was following the recommendations of someone he’d just met, someone obviously younger.

And when he opens his eyes? 

He's met with the softest looking skin he’s ever seen, slightly tanned and definitely kept moisturized. Deku's whole face is naturally flawless, not like the people on social media whose faces are caked in makeup, but like…real. His neck follows suit, and he can briefly see collarbones peeking out from the robed attire. It captivated him for some reason, the feeling of pressure in his palms relaxing him enough to let his guard down for once. So he just…looks.

Usually he didn't stare at people…didn't have time or interest in staring at people. But now? With, dare he say a very handsome masseur in front of him, and touching him? 

Something stirred low in his stomach again, but he quickly snaps his brain out of it in an attempt to contain his dignity.

Then the feeling slows, and his eyes trace back up Deku's neck and cheeks to his eyes.

Eyes staring right back into his own. 

And holy hell green. 

If he thought the hair wasn’t enough, his eyes were damn emeralds.

The sudden intensity of their gaze causes him to startle slightly, but Deku is still just as soft and gentle with him, a polite smile gracing his cheeks as he looks back down to switch arms. 

Katsuki blinks a few times.

“How does this feel?” He asks.

“Good.” Katsuki responds quickly, realizing the reaction was much too adverse to his normal attitude and corrects it to a “fine.”

He can briefly make out a faint smirk on Deku's lips.

“You're not like I thought you'd be, in person.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean that you're genuine! Most people have a different personality when they're not on a stage, you know?”

“I'm not some two faced loser.” He scoffs.

“I know you’re not. That's what I admire about you.” Deku admits easily, but then realizes the confession and corrects himself. 

“I-I just mean, because I see you on tv and stuff! Since you're a pro hero it's kind of hard not to know who you are and-”

“S fine, jeez. I'd ask you what rock you lived under if you didn't recognize me.”

Deku laughs at the comment, admitting, “I'm a bit of a hero junkie, I guess.” 

“Figured.” Katsuki pins, as if he had known the second Deku walked into the room. He gets a small quivering smile from the green haired boy at the comment and…did he have that much color in his cheeks a few minutes ago? Katsuki realizes just how easy it would be to make fun of this kid, to embarrass the fuck out of him. 

They don't talk very much after this until the very end of his session. 

“I think we’re all set! How are you feeling Dynamight?”

“Good…fine, thanks.” He corrects.

“Great! If you go up to the front, Ochako will get you checked out. Feel free to book again anytime you start to feel a bit rough!” He waves Katsuki out, and it's mere seconds before the door is closing on him again and he's back in the hallway. 

What was with these people and closing doors so aggressively?

“All set already?” The front desk, Ochako, asks cheerily as he walks up. “Wow, that was a quickie.”

“Uh…yeah.” He says plainly, his face slightly heated for no goddamn reason.

“Your total comes out to ten thousand yen.” She rattles off on an old fashioned register.

Not bad for a first time appointment, he figures. 

“Oh, would you like to set up an appointment for next time?”

“What's the next available?” He asks without much thought.

“That would be Monday evening I think…would you like to see someone else then?” 

“No, no Deku is fine.”

“Perfect!” She squeals. “And between you and me, he'll be ecstatic to hear it. See you then!”

With a wink and a shove, he's pushed out of the massage parlor with less paper in his wallet and surprisingly light shoulders.

Oh, and he sleeps like a rock that night.

Chapter Text

“So, did you end up going?” 

The question makes Katsuki jump to attention, staring over at Sero across the lunch table with an alarmed expression before he realizes the man was talking to someone completely different.

He exhales as he sees the bright expression on Kaminari’s face, nodding like a bobblehead.

“Oh you bet I did, and I'm going back tomorrow!” He answers, delighted.

“You gotta fill us in on the details!” 

“Dude you'd never believe it. I got this smoking hot girl with purple hair feeling me up every week now.” Kaminari says, dropping his mouth open in an exacerbated expression.

“That's gross Kaminari, don't say it like that.” Momo frowns at him. She and Mina were sitting across from them, phones out and looking very judgmentally at the two.

“And disrespectful.” Mina adds, crossing her arms.

Both of the girls were also pros, just at different locations with different agencies. On Sundays, they shared a building as part of some team building exercise the commission was piloting. It usually meant he had no choice but to eat lunch with everyone, though it spoiled his appetite.

“What! It's the truth, and I heard they even do happy ending massages.”

“What! You're kidding.” Sero all but shouts, while the others visibly cringe at the subject.

“Nope, and don't any one of you try to tell me you wouldn't take her up on the offer.” Kaminari points around the table with his eyes closing into judgmental slits.

“Bakugou definitely wouldn't.” Mina says off-handedly. It's true for more than one reason. Katsuki just quirks a brow before going back to his bowl of ramen.

“I don't even know what you guys are talking about so leave me out of it.” He tries to deflect.

“Kats, you don't know what a happy ending massage is?” Eijirou asks him after he's finished scarfing down a monster of an egg sandwich, eager to participate in the conversation.

“I know what the hell it is, I just don't care!” He barks back, and Eijirou puts his hands up in surrender.

“Jeez, okay. We're just having some fun.” Sero adds.

“At least a few of us get the yuck vibe.” Mina nods over in his direction. She's not as irritating as the rest, so he tends to get along with her better. Of course Eijirou was his best friend so they get along too, but he still had his moments too.

“I'm not saying I'd get one, I'm just saying they probably would do it if you pay extra.” Kaminari continues, ignoring the complaints from half the table.

“Are you gonna ask for one?” Eijirou asks, like he’s interested but not at the same time.

“Eh….don't know if I've got the guts to do that.”

“Just go visit Kabukicho. I'm sure they have actual shops for that rather than you harassing a professional massage therapist.” Someone suggests, though he’s definitely unfocused now in favor of slurping the rest of his lunch to G.T.F.O.

“You better not, or I will make sure you're the new degenerate on one of those scandal magazines.” Momo speaks up again, throwing him a death glare.

“Hey I never said I would, I just asked if I should.” Kaminari defends.

Momo rolls her eyes, throws out a few more warnings, and the group gossips like usual for the rest of lunch.

Despite the conversation already being about massages, he definitely can't get Deku out of his mind. Their first and most recent interaction catching the corner of his eye every so often. The man had never actually given out his name, and it struck his curiosity like wildfire as to his secret identity. And of course, he was curious about this ‘happy ending’ massage too.

The night after his appointment, he had searched around for any record of the therapist, not a single source coming up online. Looked like ‘Deku’ was a nickname, just a verbal name that lacked any kind of literature at all. 

He sighed, giving up and after a few more loads of laundry and crashing into bed. Whatever had made him so obsessed with this person really was becoming the forefront of his thoughts, the new experience exciting and for once giving him a break from the pain of his career. He wouldn’t admit to enjoying it, but he could absolutely savor the effects in the privacy of his own home, rolling his shoulders around and stretching freely. It had been a day or so, and he could feel the slow crawl of discomfort when he pushed too far, but at least he could look forward to his next appointment.

Tomorrow.

He rolls around for a while, tossing and turning, drinking a whole damn glass of water twice before finally falling asleep. 

✦

By the time he gets to lay down on the semi familiar massage table again, his muscles have magically relapsed. It's a slow burn, one that shows up when he slouches and shoots pain up his back when he stands. Maybe he just slept funny, but it was all encompassing this time, another long day at work making everything feel worse than it probably was.

It's annoying as hell though, and he'd normally just bend the fuck out of his body at the gym till something more tollerable hurt worse and stole the attention away.

This time? He's hopeful for another solution.

Deku walks in with a bright expression on his face. 

“Nice to see you again, Dynamight!” He says cheerfully. He's dressed in the same way as before, a bright smile dawning his cheeks.

“You too.” He offers casually.

“Are you noticing any changes from our last session?”

“I guess…still just as sore after the big mission today.”

“I heard about it on the news! Did you manage to capture all the villains involved in the heist?”

“Who would I be if I couldn't do something simple as that?” Katsuki huffs, puffing out his chest proudly but wincing as the feeling of sitting up straight curves his lower back juuust enough to hurt. 

“Well, it may take a few sessions to get you feeling better again. I will admit that regular visits are probably more beneficial than sporadic sessions. But that's entirely up to you, I don’t want you to feel pressured to keep coming back if you decide this kind of thing isn’t for you.”

Katsuki nods, and Deku leaves while he undresses again. He does the same as the first time, taking off his shirt and pants to discard them in an unoccupied chair before jumping back onto the massage table, face first.

Deku starts the same way he did before, feeling around, asking where his weak spots were, despite him not having any (a lie, of course) and what felt better or worse since last week.

“I’ll start slow.”

He lets the pressure of Deku's hands relax him again, more willing to give into the feeling than before. But instead of relaxing, his brain has other ideas.

The topic of a happy ending massage shows up in his mind yet again. He tries his best to figure it out, what it could mean and why he's never heard of it before. And why the hell would Kabukicho have it? From what he knew, that area was a bunch of bars and host clubs, maybe all of which were owned by Yakuza. It would be highly inappropriate for a hero to visit that area while off the clock, especially if it's not related to a safety call or mission path. 

Happy ending, implying there's no pain at the end? A specialty thing? He gives up on trying to figure it out alone and pops a question absently as he lays there.

“What kinds of massages does this place offer anyways?”

“What kinds?” Deku asks back.

“You heard what I said.” He grumbles, and Deku laughs, presumably at the attitude.

“Right, well, we offer plenty of kinds. Half body, full body like what you're getting, specific sections, couples sessions. Why do you ask?”

“Why can't I ask?” He shoots back, a question for a question.

“I didn't say that! I just wanted to give you a good answer.”

“What about specific kinds then? Do they have names?” Katsuki asks next, ignoring the remark and getting impatient.

“Sure they do, one of the most popular is a deep tissue massage to treat strains and sports injuries. I've never had any pro heros try it before, but I'm sure it would be helpful after intense villain attacks. Maybe like a substitute for physical therapy or-”

“Ever heard of something called a happy ending massage?”

Deku's hands stop abruptly. After a few seconds of stiff fingers pressing into his back, Katsuki lifts his head up and tries to swivel it backwards to look at the therapist…who's eyes are wide and there's way more color to his cheeks now.

“What?”

“Um…yeah, yes I suppose that's a kind of…massage too. Where did you hear about that?” Deku's fingers are slow to move again.

“Dunce face comes here every week, he said it was something no one would refuse.”

Deku starts to laugh, giggle in fact, while he's knuckles deep into the dip of Katsuki's back and a particularly hard push makes him grunt.

“What the hell are you laughing about! What!!” He stresses when he doesn't get an answer right away.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it just makes more sense now why you'd bring something like that up. By dunce face, do you mean Chargebolt?”

“Yeah, so??”

“You…really don't know what a happy ending massage is?”

“If i knew would I be fuckin’ asking about it?”

“Alright, alright.” Deku gives up with a sigh. “It's a…um, kind of massage some shops around here offer under the table so to speak. It's not exactly the kind of thing a business would advertise.”

“Still don't know what the hell you're talking about.” He grumbles, voice cut off with a firm press to his trapezius.

“A happy ending massage ends in sexual gratification.”

What

“It usually includes a massage like…normal, but if a person pays a bit extra the massage therapist might stimulate them to orgasm…hence the name, I guess.”

Katsuki doesn't know what to say, he's completely mute now. He might as well just pretend to be asleep at this point, forget the whole damn conversation even happened, because what the hell.

“Dynamight are you saying-”

“Hell fucking no!” He shoots up, and it startles Deku back.

“O-okay. It's not common, but once in a while people do bring it up so I just-”

“No.”

“Okay.” 

The pressure builds into his muscles again, but he's still buffering. At least the conversation over lunch made more sense now, but the fact that even Deku knew about it and he himself didn't probably means…

“You've done it before?”

“Like I said, it's kind of frowned upon in this industry, plus it's illegal in some countries…if I had, I wouldn't be telling a pro hero anyways.”

Katsuki hums, understanding, but still curious about the whole thing. So, what, you pay extra to get jerked off? He's got a perfectly good hand, why would he need to pay for someone else to do it. Though he would admit his quirk made that kind of activity a bit more difficult at times, which is why he’d refused to touch himself for several months now. Of course he’d masturnated before, everyone does it. But it wasn’t a focus given all the work and overtime he pulls off each week. He’d much rather prioritize sleep over his dick anyways.

“You're tensing up too much again, Dynamight.” Deku says in a coy tone, and Katsuki turns beet red.

“You're fuckin’ pressing on me too hard!” He fights, but realizes the fault when the massage therapist chuckles and reassures him.

“I was just kidding.” He laughs, and Katsuki grumbles another half assed insult.

“Relax for me, okay?”

Was that…flirting? Was it supposed to be flirting? He's dazed, that's for sure.

“Whatever.” Katsuki mumbles quietly.

Deku's hands are becoming irrefutably soft on him as the massage continues. That or he’s just building up the tolerance to it, but he noticed the change early on in their session, like he's learning Katsuki's body at his fingertips. The therapist works into his shoulders carefully, like waves over his sore skin. He's more loose and relaxed than a cat laying in a sun spot on the floor, to put it into perspective.

“How'd you end up with the name Deku anyways?” He asks plainly, trying to think of another topic that had been on his mind equally as much.

“Oh! It's not my real name, it's a nickname. I only use it here, same reason why you use your hero name.”

He had been right about that assumption. 

“What's your real name?” Katsuki asks, and Deku huffs as if the request is just too bold.

“Isn't the whole point of using a nickname to keep your real name private?” 

“What, you think I'm gonna like, stalk you or something?” Katsuki piques.

“No! I don't think that, I just don't give my real name out. Not to strangers at least.” 

“I'm not a stranger.” He retorts.

“I don't know your real name either, Dynamight.”

“Katsuki Bakugou.” 

He likes the shock factor, because Deku is completely silent for a moment and his hands still, again. That's how he knows he's caught the man by surprise.

“So tell me yours now.” He insists.

“What? No!” Deku fights back.

“I just told you mine and therefore it means I'm not a stranger, so spill Deku.” He tries to pressure, but his therapist is doing that stupid cute laugh again.

”We have rules and policies for a reason, you know. I’m sorry.” 

“That's dumb.”

“Says the pro hero.” 

“You think I follow the rules? I can make my own damn rules.”

Deku sighs, clearly defeated but still keeping quiet about his own name. For now, this was fine.

“So, now that I know, what do you want me to call you?” Deku asks, moving down to his legs and squeezing his calves.

“Whatever, I don't care.”

“Your first name is Katsuki?” Deku asks, and it's still just as natural on his tongue as Dynamight, for some reason.

“Yea?” he asks back.

“What about Tsuki-chan.”

“The hell did you just say?” Katsuki gawks at the floor.

“You said whatever!” The therapist argues back.

“That makes me sound like a girl! Absolutely not, change it.” He grumbles.

“Katsu-chan.”

“Drop the damn chan.” 

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

“Awh, I liked it…What about Kacchan?”

He groans, low and annoyed while the massage therapist he pays double time makes fun of him.

“Whatever, damn nerd.”

“Kacchan it is!” He announces happily, despite the muffled protests as Deku pushes down on him so he's smushed into the chair with the intent to silence him.

They bicker like childhood friends, and it's somewhat comforting.

Before he knows it, their session is over and he's groggily pulling himself back up from the chair. Deku moves around the room a bit, and Katsuki spots a few containers on a side table next to the wall.

“What's in the jars?” He asks.

“Oils and stuff, it's an add-on service some people prefer, but others don't like the feeling.”

“Why?” He asks again.

“So many questions with you.” Katsuki scrunches his face while Deku chuckles, picking up one of the jars that's painted in flower patterns.

“It's a weird sensation if you've never been covered in oil before, and you'll have to shower pretty quickly after, unless you want it to soak into your clothes forever.”

“I've got plenty of hero suits, I don't care if one gets messed up.” 

“You do?” Deku asks with sudden renewed interest.

“Yeah?” Katsuki replies with a quirked brow.

“Oh wow! So the commission gives you multiple of the same? Now that I think about it that makes sense because you're constantly tearing and burning off your sleeves when you use your quirk. You would think they'd make it fire proof but I guess depending on what you're doing a fire proof material might weigh too much-”

“Oi, Deku.”

“Huh? Oh! Sorry…here, you can feel it if you want.”

Deku holds out the jar, and he cautiously dips his fingers inside, pulling them out slowly as a dark yellow liquid drips off of them. It's lighter than honey, but heavier than water, running down his two fingers slowly as he holds them up. It doesn't really have a smell, but it feels weird as fuck as he rubs the two together.

“So what, you just dump it all over someone because they like the feeling?”

“Actually, yes, but technically it's supposed to help make the surface skin easier for the therapist to work on. That way you're not causing the person any pain by pulling on small hairs or roughly dragging the skin around. It's only a small fee if you'd like to try it sometime.”

He accepts the towel Deku passes him, wiping off the liquid but noticing the residue it indeed left behind. 

Deku offers to massage his arms and hands again, to which he accepts of course with a grumpy ‘whatever’ to the offer.

“So, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?” Deku asks casually, striking up another conversation as he presses into his forearms methodically. The therapist's eyes are focused downwards again, and Katsuki’s own gaze goes straight back to Deku. Only when he looks up does the other look down, and vice versa. 

“I don’t have free time.” 

“Okay, so if you did have free time, what would you like doing?”

“Sleep more, I guess.”

Deku hums in response. “If I had more free time I’d definitely use it to train.”

“You work out?” Katsuki questions. 

“Yeah! But I work here basically every day now so I don’t have as much time nowadays.”

“Yeah well you young kids are gym freaks, that’s expected when you start a job.”

“…I’m twenty five.”

Katsuki gawks again.

“No way you’re twenty five.”

“Last I checked, I am twenty five.” Deku asserts. “Surprised we’re the same age?”

“How the hell do you know how old I am?” Katsuki shoots back, and he’s given a ‘really?’ look back.

“Just a hunch.” Deku adds with a small smile and shrug. No way this kid…er, man, wasn’t a super fan.

They bicker absently back and forth because part of him thinks Deku is straight up lying and the other part of him finds fun in messing around. By the time his arms are spaghettified too, he’s exhausted his stockpile of remarks and Deku’s attitude hits an all time high as they toy with each other.

It’s kinda hot.

“I think we're all set for today! Thank you for the business Kacchan.”

Kacchan

The nickname kills him, in more ways than one. But he lets it slide because his body feels fucking amazing. This was quickly becoming his new obsession.

“Do you…think you’ll come back?”

“Sounds like you’d like that.” Katsuki smirks, and Deku’s eyes suddenly shift, hooded as his head tilts down and he leans against the table, arms crossed.

“I’d like that a lot, Katsuki Bakugou.” Deku replies with perfect pronunciation.

Jesus christ he needs to get the hell out of here before he popped a boner.

“Put me on the schedule then, I’ll try to show up.”

Deku waves him out like normal, and he's convinced this man is a total dirty talker, a hunch after the few comments he’s made now and then that are dipped in dominance. It's a weird mix, a switch of sorts from when they first met.

God he hopes the thought wouldn't haunt him to sleep like last time.

He leaves the same way he did the week prior, with the same praise from Ochako who appears to be the shop owner, as Deku told him, and another appointment set for Friday.

Unfortunately for him, the door swings open and smacks an all too familiar face right in the nose as he goes to exit the small shop.

“Ow! What the heck!” Kaminari yelps, cupping his face.

“What the hell are you doing here??” Katsuki hisses.

“Bakugou?” He asks, rubbing at his nose some more. “Why are you here?”

He grabs the man by the collar, rushing forwards and swinging them both around to the wall beside the door.

“I swear to god if you tell anyone you saw me here-.” He growls.

“Jeez dude, alright. Not like we all aren't going to the same place anyways. I won't tell though!”

Katsuki lets go, and the man brushes down his shirt with a frown and a whine.

“Ah man, you messed up my flow.” 

“What?”

“My shirt was tucked in really nice and you-”

“Whatever.” He growls again, turning away from the other pro and starting to walk up the street.

“Hey, wait up! Bakugou!”

“What.”

“I just want to know how you've liked it so far? You know I think it’s cool you’re trying it out. Everyone gets so worried about your tendency to overwork. Anyone you'd recommend so far?” Kaminari asks, catching back up to him. 

“No.”

“I was thinking about what Hawks said, about the cute guy, you know, with the green hair.”

Something inside him switches like a flip, and he's eyeing Kaminari with a fire he hasn't felt in years.

“Haven't seen ‘em. Might’ve just been pulling your tail sparky.” He grits out.

“Oh, really? That sly bird. I’ll stick with my usual then, she’s really done a great job. Anyways, see ya Bakugou!” Kaminari makes a zipper motion against his lips.

He watches the blonde run backwards, stopping to enter the shop again in attempt number two. Katsuki is muttering the whole way back to his flat. 

Why did it matter if Kaminari saw Deku too?

Truthfully, it matters because Kaminari is the one who brought up the whole sex massage thing in the first place. Deku didn't deserve to be treated like that. Based on his personality thus far, he'd probably be the type to get bullied into it and the thought lit his palms up in small crackles and smoke.

His routine stays the same as usual that night, eating and showering and setting out his gear for the next day with ease. He huffs loudly as his body hits the bed, face planting into it and rolling his shoulders to get comfortable. But in the absence of chores, he’s thinking.

Deku

He writes it out in his mind about a hundred times, a hundred different ways. His hips roll absently as he thinks about the pressure of the man’s hands on his skin, and god it’s fucking dirty the way he feels a twitch of pleasure in his groin at the idea of someone else’s hands on him. Specifically Deku’s hands. He grabs at his pillow, pulling it into his face so he can squeeze the plush material and groan into it, frustrated. 

So what if he likes the idea? So what if he wants to entertain the feeling in other ways? 

He can’t get that stupid smile out of his mind, the idea of those hands all over his body making his skin heat up and sizzle. He fights off the feeling of arousal, determined to keep his hands under the pillow, not to worsen his now painfully hard cock in his sweats.

Deku’s voice plays on repeat as he lays there in agony, fucked up on something so mundane that he might die of embarrassment. He’d never felt like this before, ever.

In a moment of weakness, he wonders what it would feel like to be touched like that, by someone who was a pro at touching. Hell, he didn’t even know the guy's real name and he was grinding his hips into the damn sheets like a fiend for him.

But he can’t stop now, not when he’s got the praise stuck in his head 

Like it’s a curse, each word getting deep under his skin like it was some smutty fantasy novel.

Easy, easy…that's it, just like that.

Relax for me, okay?

He scrambles to grab at his cock, pumping it wildly as he feels the sensation build. It’s unbearable, so screw it. 

He really can’t stop when he remembers Deku’s neck and collarbones, barely visible underneath his robe to unbelievably smooth. Not when Deku’s hands rub so firmly down the sides of his thighs, fingers so close to the inside of his leg and groin. Not when he could imagine those soft nude lips caressing his back and down his spine, biting into his burning skin. Not when he could spread his legs half an inch and have those finger run along the curves of his ass and slip deep inside his-

“Fuck.” Katsuki hisses loudly, a pulsing feeling replacing the heavy grind of his hips into the sheets as they stutter and slow. He’s heaving a breath, trying to catch up to the overflowing sensation of pleasure inside his groin as his cock twitches and leaks. His hand leaves a small sizzle and smoke behind as he lets go and collapses without a second thought, still gasping.

✦

“Didn’t you just do your sheets last Friday?” Eijirou asks as he watches Katsuki furiously load them into the washer not twenty minutes after coming all over them.

Of course, he’d forgotten about movie night.

“Shut the hell up shitty hair.”

Chapter Text

Movie night is much more relaxing than he’d thought it would be that night, until Eijirou starts asking him the forbidden questions.

“Hey man, I’ve been meaning to ask, you doing okay?”

“I’m fine.” He says absently, getting ready for another lecture about his mental health and resources and relationships.

“I’m just checking in. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Katsuki nods, letting his gaze linger on the tv as a fight scene breaks out on screen. It wasn't a particularly interesting movie, but it was better than getting interrogated.

“I’ve been good too, I’m uh…I’m seeing someone.” He suddenly blurts out, and Katsuki can’t help but look his way now. Eijirou's expression is shy as hell, he's practically twiddling his thumbs.

“You’re dating someone?” Katsuki asks for clarification, incase he heard it wrong.

“We’re not official yet but…I think everyone started to catch on so I’m just coming clean.” He shrugs, nervously watching around the room as he speaks. He's always had a tough time maintaining eye contact.

“Is it acid girl?”

“Oh, yeah. So it was obvious?” Eijirou asks, his cheeks burning.

So that's why she was the only other one who didn't get on his nerves. Probably because she was trying to be nice, given Katsuki was his best friend.

“Hate to break it to you Ei, but everything is a little obvious with you.”

The red haired man sighs with an embarrassed smile.

“I dunno I just…I really like her and we’re getting up there in age anyways. It’s about time I started givin’ a hint, you know.”

“What, that you wanna get laid?”

“I’ve gotten laid before Kats, you know this. I just mean like, get close with someone, have a home together, start a family.”

Katsuki cringed at the idea, truly. They were still only half way to thirty, and most people weren't having kids in their twenties anymore.

“Cmon, everybody wants a special someone. Even you blasty.” Eijirou notions with a nudge to his propped knee when he doesn't respond right away.

Katsuki huffs back at the idea, playing it off cool because he hasn’t needed someone before, why would he need someone now? The idea of a romantic partner was exhausting, someone always influencing your day to day life and depending on you. He always worked better solo.

“I don’t need a special someone. A hook up once ‘n a while, maybe, but I’ve got no time to date and you of all people should know that.”

“Well we both know you are definitely not casual material, mister jealous of everything.”

“Take it the fuck back before blast you out of the window!” He yells, lunging forwards at the man with sparks flying off his palm. Eijirou yelps with a small flinch before using his quirk to prevent Katsuki from getting any closer.

“Alright alright! I'm sorry!” He laughs, clearly not serious about the argument. “Just, let me know if you want help meeting some new people around town.”

Katsuki backs off, sitting back down on his side of the couch and crossing his arm.

“I don’t need to meet anyone.” He replies, irritated.

“Oh, do you…have someone in mind already?”

Katsuki thinks about the question, very carefully. Deku was on his mind, a lot, but that was a strictly professional relationship. But he’s sat in silence too long because when he looks back over at Eijirou the man has big wide red eyes that stare into his soul.

“So what if I do!!” He grumbles, his own face starting to become hot.

“You have to tell me about em Kats! Please?”

“Shut up. He’s not…we’re not dating or hooking up or anything.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t asked, I guess.”

“Oh that part’s easy. You just drop a few hints, add in a compliment, and then ask if they wanna go out!”

Dating was never that easy, even Katsuki knew that.

“I can’t exactly….ask.”

“Ohhh. Is this mystery person related to our job?”

“A job.” He admits. “Listen, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen, so drop it.”

“Mmmmm I bet you’d be surprised what some praise could do.”

If only you knew, he thinks.

“Trust me, just drop a few hints here and there, then see where it goes!”

“Yeah, easy for you to say, you've got the personality of a damn golden retriever. Everyone loves you.”

“That's not true! I've been turned down plenty of times!” Eijirou argues, and Katsuki sighs, slowly starting to give up the fight.

What the hell else could he do? Infact, Deku was the one flirting with him. Aren't the roles already reversed? He doesn't like the idea of forceful flirting, one step from just bluntly asking someone out. He'd rather the process happen naturally. But to be honest, he hadn't really shown signs of the same mindset. He hadn't been the one to openly admit to liking the idea of going back for more regular appointments. Deku was the one to do that. He stayed neutral, as much as possible.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to flirt, per say, but show that he accepts the display. Show that he'd be open to more than just a few words of praise and Deku rubbing the upper backs of his thighs like they were more precious than the rest of his body. And yes, he definitely feels like the increased time spent on his legs is not coincidental.

So, he starts to devise a bit of a plan, more or less consciously.

Deku had shown a lot of interest in his hero suit at his last appointment. He normally wore regular office clothes to his massage appointments, but if he wore something more official…

Yeah, you get the point.

But the suit idea was perfect for when he was just getting off of work and didn't have time to change, so he made a mental note to save that trick for another time. Maybe when he's for sure Deku is actually interested in him, he'll show it off.

His second option was to flirt back. Hint at the man going back to his place with him after a late night session. Deku had set up their next appointment time for seven at night that upcoming Friday, so he could most certainly swing a “It's getting late nerd, I'll walk you home” speil.

No one could say no to the traditional way of flirting, according to Eijirou and half of the internet when he googled ‘how to flirt’. But Deku shouldn't be accepting invites from random strangers, and that was only encouraging the behavior. What if he'd already done that with other people? Katsuki hated the idea, but shook the unpleasant thought away each time it slithered on in.

It's not until Thursday, the night before, that a less obvious idea pops into his head. He could set off minor cues, like small motions to indicate he really did like it. It's ridiculous, but subtle enough that it might fly. And if Deku noticed? He could either A. ignore it, B. ask about it and he himself ignores it, or C. take the bait. If Deku reacted well to something small, it would give him the go ahead to try more.

Not that he wanted to….

But he wanted to.

Screw his lazy self dependent lonely era, he finally works up the courage to say to himself in the mirror of the massage room he's been led into. It's the same one he has every time, and it's starting to feel more…normal of an activity. He's already got his pants and shirt off when Deku knocks again, but he doesn't have enough time to sprint to the massage table and act as if he hadn't been roaming the room half naked for five minutes.

“Oh! Sorry Kacchan, do you need more time?” Deku asks shyly, shielding his eyes with his hand as he stands in the doorway.

“‘s fine.” He grumbles, lowering his tone to its normal everyday range. He doesn't do it on purpose, but a mixture of yelling all the time and an explosion quirk has made his voice much more gravely than it used to be, over the years.

He walks casually over to the massage table, not looking back to see if Deku had uncovered his eyes while he was moving. His goal was to interest the other, and if that meant a quick peek at the prominent bulge in his pants, he'd be happy to make that happen.

He lowers himself onto the table slower than usual, making a proud display of his biceps and forearms.

“I'm glad to see you again.” The green haired, bright eyed massage therapist offers lightly.

“I know.” He responds confidently, and Deku laughs quietly.

“So, I know this might seem repetitive, but I'm going to ask again how you're feeling.”

“Fine.”

“And that's what I expected.” Deku says with a knowing smile and nod. “If you're feeling fine now, I could try some softer methods as long as nothing has been blaringly painful over the past week.”

“My thighs have been sore.” He suddenly attests, and Deku pauses, one brow quirked up in question.

“Your thighs?”

“What, you asked, I answered.”

“I know, but I've been pretty good at keeping those loose…Were my calculations wrong? Maybe I should've pushed less on the outside of your legs to eliminate the tension on the muscles inside that area…” He starts to quietly mutter and Katsuki frowns at the attention being taken away from himself.

“Oi, cut the ranting.”

“O-oh! Sorry. So you want me to focus on that area?”

A part of him suddenly seizes and his mind closes, causing the flirting idea to go deeper into the back of his consciousness. Deku hadn't reacted the way he wanted and it was a disappointment. He was much too serious about the subject and in no way flirty.

Maybe he'd been wrong.

“Do what you want.” Katsuki grumbles in response, though Deku doesn't really respond negatively to his attitude, just dense to the point. He never has responded poorly to his crashness, for some reason. Instead, he chuckles at the comment.

“I just want you to feel good, Kacchan.”

Oh

Oh

Reading it sounds like a plea, a whine, or a closing statement to an argument when someone finally gives in. But out loud? It was enough to make his dick jump against the table pads. For a moment it’s just crickets. The small waterfall-like structure provided them with a consistent buffer to the silence, ripples and drops of water running through the motor. The murmur of a heating unit also running through his ears.

“Make me feel good, then.”

The comment swooned way more than it should've, way softer than he meant it to be. Not as much a challenge and just, inviting.

Deku's hands hadn't even touched him yet and the room felt dense. Dense enough for the fog to cover his own body as he disappeared into it. Because they weren't even ten minutes in and he was already red as hell and clueless, because he couldn't even see the stupid nerds face.

What was he thinking? What did he want?

“I can do that.” He finally responds, and it's polite. “That is my whole job, you know.”

“I'm not stupid, I fuckin’ know.” He rattles off in defense, and Deku saves it with another laugh.

Okay, so, scratch that, he wasn't personally interested. This was his job. Deku didn't take the bate, and he didn't even need to make any noise or grind the table like an oblivious whore to get his attention.

The back and forth was driving him a little crazy.

Whatever, according to Ei there was much more to relationships that just sex and he should try to forget about this and happy ending massages and the way Deku praised him and-

Deku's hands are finally on him again, and despite the ongoing war in his brain he relaxes slightly. This was okay, this was fine, he convinced himself.

“How has work been?” Deku asks.

“Boring. Just a few robberies, no real crime.”

“Robbery isn't a real crime?”

“I just mean it's lame. Really fuckin’ lame. And the criminals are usually losers who just cry and turn themselves in after a bit of chasing.”

“I bet they do when you’re the one chasing after them yelling about how you’re going to murder them.” Deku says, cocky.

Katsuki rolls his eyes, privy to the most common clips of him rolling around the internet. Most of them really were just off handed death threats.

“Like I'd actually kill someone.” He scoffs.

“They don't know that!”

“What kinda hero kills people??”

“I’ve seen it before in one of our history books about early quirk users. I’m not justifying it by any means, but what if that person can’t be saved? A top of the line villain whose only goal is to cause disaster and suffering. Do you think it could be morally justified?”

“Dunno.” he blinks. “Never had to think about something like that before. What do you think?”

“I think…in the moment I might feel a lot different. Even if I know it's what I have to do, I'd try to find every way possible to save that person instead. I think everyone deserves a second chance. You know?”

“I don't. Like I said, never been in that position before.”

He's honest about it, because he hasn't had to make that call. Few have, and when they do it does cause some hardship in life, physically and psychologically, they say. When a hero kills a villain, they're praised by half of the globe and scrutinized by the other half. The half that feels outnumbered and cornered or for having destructive classified quirks. He doesn't agree with the system per say, but they don't see the side of unending terror that the pros would see if someone that evil walked the earth freely.

The question sticks with him. Could he kill someone?

“Sorry, I don't mean to bring the mood down.” Deku says, like he can sense the sudden turmoil on his mind.

“You're fine.” Katsuki reassures, trying not to think too hard on it.

“Anyways, I'm glad you haven't been in too much danger.”

Katsuki huffs. “I am the danger.”

It makes Deku laugh and he prides himself for the reaction.

“Well I certainly don't feel like I'm in danger when you're around. Quite the opposite.”

“Great.” He grumbles.

“Not in a bad way c'mon. I'm just trying to be nice!”

“Less tryna be nice and more pushing on my oof-” The air is pushed from his lungs as Deku’s palms knead down on his middle back.

“What was that?” He giggles.

“You are such an asshat.”

“Sorry, was that too much Dynamight?”

“You better be kidding.” He calls, after Deku decides to play coy.

“Kidding.”

Katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes, bringing his arms up to cross under his head and prop himself up. Deku moves on to his upper thighs…which is, odd, because he usually starts at the bottom and works up. Katsuki feels his massage therapist splay his hands out on both thighs, towards the middle of each. He squeezes both under light pressure, then moves both hands to his left leg and focuses on rolling his palms deep into one of his hamstrings.

“How…um” Katsuki starts. “How's work?”

He doesn't remember a time he's ever asked anyone that question before, unsurprisingly.

“It's been okay! This week was slower, unfortunately, but I heard it's because of the mascott festival downtown Kyoto. A few of my clients mentioned pushing appointments out to travel…which makes income fluctuate a bit.”

He doesn't ever remember wanting to tip someone before either. If one week's worth of appointments was dropping his weekly income, it must be more than ‘a few’.

“Well then I'll come in every day next week, so you can make up for it.”

“What?? Nono…really kind of you, but not necessary.”

“Well what the hell am I supposed to do if you get a different job?”

“There are plenty of other therapists here.”

“Screw the other therapists, they don't do it the same.”

Deku sighs, but it sounds happier than distressing or distasteful. He knows the man can probably see right through him, and that he hasn't even worked with the other therapists to know what they're like anyways.

“I'm okay, Kacchan. I promise.” He offers. “Just…relax. Okay?”

“Fine.” He grumbles, relaxing back into his crossed arms and closing his eyes.

Deku's hands are particularly soft on the backs of his upper thighs tonight, and he exhales forcefully as one of the massage therapist's thumbs catch only inches away from the curve of his ass. The feeling is nice despite it being a lot more personal than the last few times and-

wait.

Deku had never let his hand stray that far up before.

He would've remembered it happening, because it made something low in his stomach spark. He opened his eyes, staring at nothing in particular as he tries to recon with the absence of the new feeling that he couldn’t figure out was on purpose or not.

There were two hands back on him again after this, one flat hand placing itself on the curve of his lower back, while the other still rolled into his left thigh. It's a slow, deliberate motion like he normally makes, but it's now way deeper into his inner thigh than before. So much so that it actually unintentionally spreads his legs apart and causes the slightest friction against his cock, making him shift out of surprise.

“Sorry!” Deku apologizes hastily. Of course he noticed. “Did that hurt?”

“No s’ fine.” He reassures, mouth muffled by a spare forearm. His eyes are wide though, really wide, as he waits because the feeling hasn't gone away.

Deku's hands are still stationary on his body, his right thumb rubbing a small back and forth pattern into the lower part of his spine.

A motion that was way too sensual and personal and holy fuck it felt so nice. It was small enough to not be super noticeable to someone else, but to him? Mister lack of human touch? It felt like the world had stopped spinning, not to overreact.

Then Deku moves.

The hand still on his thigh squeezes, pulling his skin so his leg rolls outwards again and causing the same sensation in his groin intentionally.

This time, Katsuki lets it slip. A quiet murmur of an exhale leaves his lips and his hips twitch again.

This time, Deku doesn't apologize.

His left hand moves further up, his thumb slipping underneath Katsuki's boxer briefs for a few seconds and he squeezes his own hands as the feeling grows and warmth bursts through his body. The motion repeats a few times as Deku moves higher and higher on his thigh, until his thumb is touching the crease of his ass underneath the thin layer of fabric.

Fingers caressed his bare skin; places no one had ever touched before. He shifts again, exhaling harder every few breaths because his pulse is picking up. He hears a small noise escape from the man behind him too, a little hum like sound that tells him Deku knows exactly what he’s doing.

Then the hand resting atop his spine moves too, a slow shift down the uphill of his ass, completely covering the muscle as he moves down causing Katsuki to whisper a faint curse, so quiet he's not even sure Deku would understand it if he did hear it.

But the moment all together is fleeting as quick as it came. Deku's other hand indeed runs along the underside of his ass cheek, thumb carefully caressing the crease above his undergarment before escaping to his lower thighs again, similar to the train of his left hand.

Katsuki wants to protest, wants to demand Deku put his hands back up there and finish the job he started. It's got his dick hard and painful under the weight of his body at this point. The rest of his massage is mediocre in comparison, the sporadic pulses of need inside his groin slowly dying out like a ruined orgasm.

He starts to gaslight himself, asking if it was even as serious as he was making it. But he doesn't say a word about it.

“See?” Deku finally speaks after they wrap up the calf portion of his legs. “It's better when you relax.”

It was better when you grabbed my ass, dumbass. He scolds the man in his head.

“Yeah.” He agrees verbally instead, and Deku helps him sit up before turning away to adjust the chair.

What he doesn't expect is looking down and seeing a massive wet spot in his underwear.

What the fuck

His brain screams as he moves to hide it with his palms. He couldn't believe he had gotten that hard, and that horny after just a few touches but…

Isn't that how virgins are?

Just absolutely wrecked when touched for the first time? It wasn’t his fault he got wet so easily.

“Do you want me to do your arms like last time?”

“No, they're fine.” He's quick to fake. Of course they hurt, and he ached for another arm and palm massage, but hell if he's accused of wetting himself in the middle of their not so sensual, sensual massage.

“Are you sure?? Your palms look…sweaty.”

He looks down, opening one of his hands and seeing the burning red color like it's a stove burner cooling off.

“I said I was fine, chill.” He bites back, and Deku backs off.

“Alright.” He nods, moving away from the table and towards the door.

“I hope you have a good weekend, Dynamight!”

“It's Kacchan.” He slips out before the door can completely open and Deku slips out. “Isn't it?”

Something in Deku's expression relaxes, and his shoulders visibly drop.

“Yeah, it's Kacchan. That's my bad. I'll…see you next week?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki nods, and it perks the green eyed boy right up, brilliantly.

“Okay! See you then Kacchan!”

He waves the man goodbye.

✦

His clothes, and underwear, go right into the wash that night.

And so do the sheets.

Again.

Chapter Text

Katsuki can feel big wide red eyes on him before he even turns to look. He just knows they're boring into the side of his face right now, like he's some sort of ancient artifact unearthed for the first time.

Though he did just casually drop the hint that something had happened between him and Deku. He just didn't expect Eijirou to be so annoying about it.

He purposely avoids the gaze for as long as possible, but it feels like the man next to him is slowly sneaking into his frame of vision by tilting his head forward, finally breaking him.

“What!” He yells, annoyed.

“You can't just say something happened between you and your crush and then leave me hanging!” Eijirou sputters back.

“Shut up, I'm just- thinking!”

“Okay okay.” He sighs.

He probably shouldn't have brought it up at all, because it's really not that big of a deal. But because he did, it's now a big deal.

“He just…touched me.” He admits, still trying to downplay it, hoping to avoid any further and unnecessary attention.

“Er…isn't that their job?” Eijirou asks, confused.

“No idiot, I mean he touched me down there.”

Wrong fucking wording stupid! His brain screeches, as Eijirou chokes on his drink, and Katsuki has to scold him for that too.

“Not there there but, as close as you could fucking get I guess. Practically groped my ass.” He explains in an annoyed tone, despite the reality of it all giving him the biggest dopamine rush he's ever had.

“So let me get this straight. You've been seeing a massage therapist and he's super hot and he's your age…but you've only had three sessions with him and he's basically groping you…yet you don't think it means anything.”

“I guess.” Katsuki shrugs.

“So, correct me if I'm wrong but that's not like…some service they offer, right? Like this isn't some kinda secret menu item or something…”

“Hell no, it's not some hook up bar.”

Eijirou takes a moment to think again, signaling the thought with an intuitive hum.

“Then if I had my best guess, I'd say he's into you man. You just gotta go for it.”

“What the hell does that even mean!” Katsuki's voice raises an octave, because it's the same crap he'd heard from this man before.

“Like I said, ask him out or something.”

“I'm not gonna make an idiot out of myself by assuming he's gay.” Katsuki argues, and it definitely would've been a valid point if Deku hadn't been palming his ass only some days prior.

“He technically doesn't have to be gay, Kats.”

Katsuki scoffs, crossing his arms and turning to face the opposite direction, his hair blocking the sun and view at the same time as it blows around. They're a good ten stories up, on the roof of a shopping mall in the middle of downtown, at the end of a ten hour patrol shift. Last thing he wants is to argue with Red Riot for the twenty minute remainder.

“Look, here's an example, do I touch your butt?”

“The fuck Eijirou.” Katsuki’s head whips around to gawk at him.

“Do I??” Eijirou asks with his arms out and palms up. He's ridiculous, but Katsuki knows him well enough to also know he's dead serious.

“No, you don't touch my fucking ass.”

“Okay, so, if he didn't touch your butt, we could eliminate the possibility that he's into you, statistically speaking, but he did touch your butt.”

“You are really getting on my nerves, Ei.” He grumbles, but the red haired hero doesn't pay attention to the comment.

“So by default, he's more likely to be into you. I don't go around touching other dudes' asses man, that's gotta be a sign.

“Well you're also not a massage therapist, hair for brains. How the hell would you know if it's supposed to happen or not.” Katsuki tries to throw back.

“Right…hey why not ask Kaminari what his massage therapist does! You go to the same place, right?”

“Absolutely fucking not. He'd never shut up about it.” He shuts down the idea right away, remembering their last encounter.

“Yeah…guess that's true. What about Hawks?”

A much more feasible option, though he might just tear the man's head off if he even mentions getting touched by Deku in the past or actively so,

“No.”

“Well jeez dude, give me some options here.”

“Listen, I was just being honest n’ shit because you're my best friend. I don't need help.”

“Alright. But you know-”

Katsuki is about to raddle off a few more curse words at the man when a siren blares, dragging both of their attention away from the conversation and down onto the ground below. A few police vehicles speed up the street and as if on cue, an explosion goes off in the distance just a few seconds later.

Katsuki’s blood rushes as his head jerks towards the sound, a black cloud of dust and debris rising into the sky some miles away.

“What was that??”

“More importantly why the hell weren’t we called.” Katsuki grumbles.

“Yeah…what should we do?”

“Let’s go.” He calls back to Eijirou, moments before taking off towards the commotion across the rooftops. The rush is taxing, even the seasoned pro got a burst of anxiety whenever a big event hits out of nowhere. From the sounds of it, this situation was fresh, maybe only one or two calls to the scene based on police response so far. He can hear Eijirou in the background calling it in.

One explosion.

His hands tingle as he spikes a sharp blast from each palm, propelling himself over the rooftop of the next building, rushing to the edge and peering over through the plumes of grey.

Eijirou shows up only seconds behind.

“Ops says we should standby. This might just be a police run.” Eijirou advises in his serious tone.

“Fuck ops.” He grumbles in return. They didn't get to make the call when they were stuck in an office chair. The feet on the ground did.

“But the police-”

“Fuck the police!” Katsuki yells, exasperated, only a few seconds before the floor crumbles out from under him. He slips, nearly avoiding the edge of stray jagged concrete as it cascades the floors below.

It catches him off guard just enough to cause a clean swipe along his thigh, the pain causing him to winch as he lands somewhere in the floor below. He should've known the roof was unstable, why wasn't he thinking?

“Dynamight!!! Come in Dynamight!!!”

“I'm fine Riot.” He barks back up, still waving away the clouds of dust and debris from his line of sight, but he still can't get a clear picture. The only thing he does see is a small figure rushing towards him from the darkness. He barely has time to react, blasting into the obscured area, but failing to stop whatever rushes him as it tackles him to the ground.

He lands with a heavy grunt, fighting off whoever the person was at a disadvantage. Luckily, he gets ahold of the person's leg, using his own to flip the two over and pin them to the ground in reverse.

“Who the hell are y-”

He jumps, his head jerking back as the dust starts to settle.

It's a kid.

He can't picture her barely over sixteen years old.

Her expression is angered, but weary. It's only when his eyes leave her face and track left when he realizes why, and it's because his open palm is pinned right above her head, sparking up like a firework just seconds away from detonation.

He blinks back and forth, before hastily lowering his arm down and letting out a loud sigh.

“Dynamight?”

He looks up, a police officer has entered the scene, the rest of his team finally dispersing through the rubble and forming a circle around them.

“Stand down, just a kid.” He advises.

“Is that….?” One of them asks.

“Yep, that's definitely her.” A reply confirms.

Katsuki looks back down at her with furrowed brows, the expression on her face still weary as everyone moves around them. He's quick to move away from the girl, letting an officer stand her up. It's clear based on her body language that the chase was over, he just managed to get stuck at the very end of it. But who the hell was she? Why was she involved in this?

“Apparently she lives down in Yokohama, came here on business with her family. We think the business story is actually part of a larger scam going around the market with illegal weapons, like what you saw. We've been trying to track her for a good five miles now.” The officer answers when Katsuki gets around to asking. They're back on ground level and everyone is starting to pack up from the scene.

“Powerful quirk if she can tear a whole fuckin building down like that.” He comments, looking back at the half destroyed complex.

“Actually, she's quirkless.” He responds, and Katsuki’s gaze shoots back to the officer. “Just really good with IEDs.”

Katsuki looks back to the police car that she had been put in a minute prior, his mind wracked with the conversation he and Deku had. He scolded himself for even thinking about using lethal force against a child, but he didn't know. Everything and everyone was supposed to be treated as a threat. He'd been taught that his whole career.

He fears what could've happened if he'd been blind for only a second longer, and the thought scrambles his brain.

“You should get checked out, Dynamight, there's an open ambulance at the back. Better book a massage too, eh?” The officer points, but his vision is blurry and his ears are muffled.

Shit

He suddenly realized he was very late for an appointment with Deku.

“I'm fine.”

“But you've got-”

“Save the space for the extras!” He leaves them no time to object as he bolts off the ground, shooting up and through the air.

✦

Within five minutes flat he's dragging his body through the small creaky door at Hurt and Comfort, every step feeling achy and causing his head to pulse.

“Hello! Welcome to h- oh my god, Dynamight?” Ochako's voice raises in concern as she sees him struggling through the entrance. “Don't tell me you were in that attack earlier?”

“The fuck does it look like cheeks?”

“I'll take that as a yes, mister grumpy pants. You're lucky Deku tolerates you.” He can tell the girl’s got an attitude on her, she just keeps it behind lock and key for business purposes.

“I've got an appointment with him tonight.” He continues normally, as if he's not battle worn and actively bleeding.

Still, she looks him up and down with alarmed eyes.

“Looking like that?” She asks, and he deadpans.

“Alright, alright. Down the hall, same room as usual.” Ochako mutters.

He limps his way there, a particularly large gash on his leg spiking in pain as he crutches along. He's more relaxed once he's in the room, but he barely gets a minute before Deku is bursting inside.

“Kacchan?? Oh my god are you okay!?” His voice is immediately filled with worry and concern as he meets Katsuki halfway to the table, helping him get on it. He groans involuntarily at the tug of each bruise and wound.

“I'm fuckin fine.” He grumbles as he slouches down into a hunched over sitting position.

“For once, I can confidently say you are not fine.”

“Well, I'm here aren't I? So I'm fine.”

Deku doesn't respond to the statement, disappearing into a small room off to the side, though Katsuki watches and waits.

“What the hell are you doing?”

After some rustling and noise from the back, Deku comes out with a first aid kit, a wet cloth, and some dry ones.

“I told you I'm fine. I don't fuckin’ need anything, pro heros get hurt all the time.”

“Kacchan, you're still bleeding. I can't work on you when you're like this anyways, you'll get blood all over.” The green haired man argues, setting the supplies down next to him on the massage table.

He grumbles some more about it but doesn't stand a chance fighting against it because Deku already has the kit undone and is pulling out some gauze wraps.

“I thought you wouldn't be in tonight, after what was on the news.” He adds, carefully assessing the spot on his thigh, and a hidden one up towards his shoulder.

“It was nothing.”

“It didn't look like nothing.”

“Are you gonna argue with everything I say?”

“Are you going to answer anything I ask?” Deku shoots back, and Katsuki makes sure to look at him like he's offended.

Deku ignores it. “We're gonna have to take your suit off, I can't fix your wounds like this.”

“Well if you hadn't barged in so suddenly, I could've already been naked by now.”

“I'll turn around, does that work?” Deku offers.

“Fine.” He agrees gruffly, slowly getting up from the table to start removing each piece of his suit. He's lucky it's basically a one piece top, without any elaborate decorations or accessories. He slips it off easily, moving to work on the button of his pants.

“Where do you think the villain will go now?” Deku asks.

“I don't know.” Katsuki responds absently, letting the attitude settle for now. He thinks back to the scene, the moment he sees the kid laying on the ground beneath him, and the feeling of shock as he's got a fist raised to her.

“I can't imagine what kind of a villain would bomb random buildings. Was their target someone specific?”

Maybe the news had left out a few details.

“No.”

“Well whoever it was, maybe you saved them from a life of crime. I always think about what I would do if I got the chance to talk to some of these people. They have lives just like ours, and I believe everyone should be given a shot, ‘specially if they're older and-”

Okay, maybe the news had left out everything.

“It was a kid.” Katsuki interrupts, and Deku stops abruptly. The room fills with a familiar silence. He pushes off his pants successfully, throwing everything into a trash bag that had been set out besides the rest of Deku's impromptu doctors office.

“Oh.” Deku sounds surprised when he finally answers, maybe unsure of what to say next for once.

Katsuki shakes the thought, his head pulsing again as a warning sign not to think too much about it anymore.

“I'm ready.” He calls, as he's shoving himself back up on the table.

“Easy.” Deku calls when he sees the pain nipped look on his face, coming to his aid again.

Katsuki hates himself for being so expressive at times. The massage therapist guides his body into a more comfortable position, sitting the chair up halfway so he could relax back.

Deku tends to him with extreme care, something he hasn't had before. Usually he got patched up by various hands in the back of an ambulance, rolling and bumping around till they finally got to the hospital where he usually refused treatment anyways, most of the time.

His body was quick to heal, but in the same way, quick to hurt. That was the grim reminder he received every time these kinds of things happened.

He watches as the massage therapist pats the gash on his leg cautiously, as if it was causing him excruciating pain or something.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Looks like it's not too deep, you won't need stitches or anything.”

“What, you're a nurse too?”

Deku smiles. “I've got some first aid training.”

On par with his profession, Katsuki guesses.

It takes them some time to wrap everything up, but Deku is good at making small talk while he waits. It's a pastime he'd normally hate, but for some reason when Deku talks it's more relaxing than anything else he's tried. Katsuki sits back with his eyes closed as the man works, fully trusting the other as he decides to put his guard down for once.

He relaxes the same way he would if he were getting a normal massage, comforted by familiar hands and pressure.

“About today…” Deku starts randomly.

“What about it?” Katsuki questions cautiously, weary about the subject coming up once again.

“I just don't want you to feel like you've done anything wrong. I think you made the right calls.”

“The kid was quirkless.” He says softly, his voice still adapting its usual gruff tone.

“What?”

“Quirkless. She didn't have a means to defend herself.”

“But, that means she made those crazy strong bombs then herself, right? Quirk or not, that’s pretty impressive.”

“I guess.”

“And…I saw the footage. You didn't hurt her. I think that was very selfless of you to be gentle. Other pros might not have hesitated, even with a kid.”

He listens, but he doesn't know what to say. Deku was right, and he felt proud that it had been recognized, but at the same time it still made him feel uncomfortable.

“Kacchan?”

“What.” He groans out, his patience slowly sinking.

Deku geeks. “I uh…I just wanna say I think your hero costume is really cool. I've never seen you with it on in person before, but it's just as amazing as I imagined.”

Oh, right. He remembers his idea from before, now being totally ruined by a series of unfortunate events. No way was Deku turned on by him showing up in a half torn outfit that probably smelled of sweat and iron.

“Thanks.” He responds quietly.

“I'm assuming you'll need to get a new one after this, huh?”

“I have another back at home.” He explains. The local support groups were great about handing out extras, luckily.

“Good. But um…I don't think I can send you out wearing it again.”

“Shit.” Katsuki mutters, not even thinking about what he'd wear home.

“Sorry, I should've thought about that before you put it in the bag.” Deku apologizes.

“I'll just wipe it off before I leave.” He mutters, really not caring if he looked apocalyptic walking the few streets home.

“I actually might have a change of clothes you could borrow if you'd like!”

What?

The offer was bold, catching him off guard.

“What, you got a wardrobe back there full of throw away clothes too?”

“Nono.” Deku clarifies. “I…live above here, only a few floors up.”

What?? His brain says again, realizing that Deku was suggesting not just some old rags they had stored away for emergencies, but something out of his own damn wardrobe.

That did explain why he seemed to always be here though, because he was always here. Katsuki knows living above businesses is common in the city, especially when you work there, though this particular building seems so small he doesn't know how someone could. The windows were half the size of his entire door frame.

“I feel safe enough to tell you that, since you're…you.” He adds next, confirming he's not going around telling random people where he lives.

Good.

“I'm not gonna steal your clothes Deku.” He declines, and he regrets it by every word. Of course the offer intrigued him, despite the uncertainty of his fashion sense.

“No, really, I insist! It's my fault your costume is out of commission, and I'll just run up real quick to grab them! Just bring them back next appointment, okay?” Deku asks kindly.

An idea pops into his head.

“Let me come with you.”

“Hm?”

“I'll come with you to get the clothes.” He insists, starting to haul his body up from the table again. Deku’s arms shoot out like he's ready to catch him, though it's probably just a reflex. He shoos him away. The thought of being carried does cross his mind, though.

Katsuki finally slides off the table, wiggling his shoulders and ignoring the way his thigh still slightly ached. At least the cut was covered now, similar to the other wound on his shoulder.

“But…you're half undressed.”

“Got an extra one of them robes?” He asks, and Deku looks back towards the closet, biting his lip before nodding. Maybe it would be more appropriate to decline the offer now, considering he practically invited himself and it was visibly making Deku nervous.

But Katsuki was not letting a chance like this slip by, especially with permission.

“Alright.” Deku finally agrees with a sigh. “I just don't want you to over exert yourself.”

“I'm fine, Deku.” He reassures, and the emeralds in his eyes sparkle as he smiles back over at Katsuki.

Deku unhooks one of the spare robes hanging on what he now knows is a stock room, handing it to Katsuki and letting him tie it up and put on some slippers before opening the door.

They have to sneak around Ochako, because apparently, she doesn't like when the clients and therapists leave the rooms together. Some stupid privacy rule. Luckily, Deku takes them through a door right next to their room. He creeps up the stairs behind the other, fortunately getting to watch the movement of his legs as they climb. Despite all the fabric in the way, he can see a thick outline that tips his brain off. His thighs looked massive.

Dirty fuckin mind, he scolds himself.

They enter the third floor, his legs only slightly starting to give way as they make it down the hall.

“This one here.” Deku approaches a door at the end of the hall, pulling a key out of his pocket and unlocking it.

He emerges inside right behind the other, observant as the room itself was quite large with just one table and a kitchen centered inside.

“Sorry, I didn't have a chance to do the dishes. I didn't think I'd have visitors.” He laughs off what Katsuki assumes is embarrassment.

“S’ fine. You really think I'm the kinda guy to judge?”

“Debatable…” Deku answers honestly, with a smile.

“Whatever.” he plays back.

Deku leads the two of them back into a short hallway, emerging out into a bedroom. This room is slightly smaller, a king sized bed covering almost all the floor space next to a small window. He's got a closet, a desk, even a bedside table.

But that's not what has Katsuki stopping dead in his tracks.

Most importantly…his entire room is decked out in All Might merch. He was embarrassed about a few dishes but not…this?

“Holy fuckin shit.” Katsuki oogles the place. “You really are a nerd.”

“O-oh! Yeah, sorry, I should've said something beforehand.” He laughs anxiously.

Katsuki was delighted, truthfully, because his closet looked almost identical to this. He had been an All Might fan since day one, and from the looks of it, so had Deku. He was stunned.

“Do you have a preference?” The man asks, stealing away his attention again.

“Nah.” Katsuki confirms, moving on to observe the rest of the room. His decor is surprisingly nice too, a few plants sitting on the windowsill and a bookshelf filled with what looked like notebooks.

Deku opens the door to his closet, focusing on finding something for him to wear and mumbling about it too.

“I think we're about the same size, but your waist is a lot smaller than mine so-”

“Haa?” Katsuki calls back with a quirked brow. “How the hell would you know that?”

“Kacchan I give you a massage at least twice a week now.”

Oh, good point.

“But…you do have wider hips than I do…” Deku continues on mumbling, and it leaves pink on his cheeks.

Now he's really curious though, because taking note of someone's body like that was definitely not a casual thing. Right?

“So you just stare at my ass the whole time you're on top of me, huh.” He toys, trying another more obvious form of flirting to mask his anxiety.

Deku throws a shirt out onto the bed, presumably one he'll be wearing home tonight, but he doesn't respond to the comment right away. Katsuki wonders if he even heard it.

“What if I do?” Deku asks suddenly, catching him off guard this time. His eyes widened, and thank god they were turned away from each other.

“I don't care.” Katsuki grumbles, flustered. Deku just hums in response as he listens. “Plenty of people look at me, all the time.”

“Do they get to see you like I do?”

Now he's practically got heat radiating off his skin, making it sizzle.

“Why would that matter?”

“I think my job is a little more...personal than others, is what I mean.”

“Do a lot of people see your body like that?” He redirects.

“I wouldn't say a lot…” Deku shrugs again, and he looks directly back over at Katsuki with a playful smile. It's then that he realizes his expression has spoiled in a jealous manner, and Deku has definitely noticed.

“Does it matter?” He asks.

“Why the hell would it matter to me? I don't fuckin’ care. Who you fuck is none of my god damn business.” His blood boils even acknowledging the comment.

“Oh…wait, Kacchan I uh…I wasn't talking about, that.”

“Whatever! I said I don't fucking care!” Great, now he's miserably embarrassed and misinterpreting things.

“Kacchan, you're getting too worked up about th-”

“I'm not getting worked up, you're the one talking about private crap like I'm just some damn coworker over brunch and you probably do this for everyone else too!” His chest is heaving as he starts to slip.

“Hey...” Deku calls.

Katsuki freezes, chest rising and falling in time with each staggered breath he produces as his eyes meet sympathetic green ones.

“...Hey.” Deku repeats, softer now.

There's a light pressure on his arm, he feels it, but he can't find the strength to look away. Deku's eyes are captivating, gorgeous up close like this.

“I've never had anyone other than Ochako up here before. I don't do this for everyone else. Breath, Katsuki.”

He feels frozen in place, his heart palpitating off beat with the sudden lack of air into his lungs.

“Breath.” He instructs again, and Katsuki exhales.

“That's it.”

The warm sensation returns to his lower abdomen, Deku so close to him now that he can feel his steady breaths too. His eyes flicker downwards, but only because Deku's do the same, and then they just stare at each other.

Somehow, he'd just managed to calm Katsuki down better than his damn therapist.

When Katsuki finally pulls himself out of the trance, he grumbles a curse, face tilting down wearily to break the gaze. He takes another few breaths before Deku lets go again and walks back to his closet.

“So what makes me different then huh?”

“You don't pretend.” He says simply.

“Seriously? That supposed to be your big answer or somethin’?”

“I see pros come here from time to time, and they all put on an attitude like they don't even enjoy the job. But I can tell that's different with you. You come in here pissed off, and bruised, and reserved, all at once. But I don't have to guess if you like my work or not, because you'll tell me. You're honest, and you're proud to be a hero.”

“That supposed to be some kinda compliment?”

“What if it is?”

“You're so annoying.”

Deku giggles like it's the funniest thing he's said all day.

“I like that.” He purrs, and Katsuki looks back at him. “That you like being a hero. Some people don't even get the chance to try.”

The moment is fleeting, but he senses something else buried deep inside Deku's words.

“Here, I found you some shorts and a t-shirt, I hope that's okay?”

Katsuki looks over at the items laid out on the bed. Deku's bed, something he's especially curious about. The t-shirt is a plain kind of black, but the pants are an off grey with green stripes down the sides. Not the worst thing he could be caught in. He shucks off the robe without a thought, throwing it beside the clothing as he picks each up.

The shorts are loose, funny enough, and Katsuki has to tie the drawstrings so much that they bunch up in the front. It doesn't take him long to notice Deku staring at him either, a hint of color on his cheeks. Their eyes meet for a split second again before they're both turning away.

By the time he's dressed, Deku is walking back over to the doorway.

“Since we didn't do a normal massage today I won't charge you for the time, okay?”

“Still got time to do one.” Katsuki fights.

“You're already patched up and dressed again!”

“I can…get undressed.” He offers, and Deku laughs at him again with the sweetest smile he’s ever seen.

“I've got some extra time on Saturday, if you'd like to swing by then? You've had a rough day today, you should go home and get some rest.”

Katsuki groans, unhappily.

“I promise I'll make up for it then, Kacchan.”

“It better be damn good.” He grumbles, and Deku snickers.

“As good as you'll let me make it.”

Shit.

His tone was telling, cunning even, and Katsuki's eyes flicker over to his one last time as he's leaving the small apartment.

“Oi, nerd.”

“Yes Kacchan?”

His visits were experimental, or had been a trial up until now. He hadn't planned on coming back after the first time, but now there was no point in denying his regularity.

“Add me to the schedule every week, twice a week.”

“Okay! I will."

“Thanks, Deku.” He tries to be sincere once in a while.

Deku smiles at him, and says a single word back. “Izuku.”

His brain tries to understand what it might mean, but fails as his brows furrow in confusion.

“Uh…what?”

“My name is Izuku Midoriya.”

Chapter Text

Izuku

Izuku

Izuku

The name crashes over him like waves on the shoreline.

Why the hell is his name so damn pretty?

Izuku

Izuku

Izuku

Fuck, it’s so god damn pretty.

He could think of a thousand different ways to use it; to say it.

He doesn’t even remember walking home that night, doesn’t remember taking off his shoes or locking the door behind himself, completely wine drunk off a single fucking word and zero alcohol.

Izuku's shirt smelled so familiar and comforting, not to mention that the material was quite literally softer than anything he’s ever worn, lulling him to sleep that night as he curled up in a quiet room and an empty bed.

Except, it was a little less lonely when he smelled like someone else.

Like Izuku.

He wakes up to the morning sun, still wearing both the t-shirt and shorts under the covers and roasting to death. But when he rolls over it no longer matters because the faint scent of Izuku bursts around him once more and that’s all he cares about as he nuzzles into the sheets. He’d happily overheat to death just to be buried in musky vanilla for the rest of his afterlife.

He’s sore the next day, naturally. Yesterday's tumble fought against the strength of his muscles when he finally chose to get out of bed. He checks himself in the mirror, feeling like a stranger in someone else's clothing despite the comfort they gave him. The sleeves hung close to his elbows and the bottom caught loosely around his hips. The shorts were a bit wide for him, like Izuku had said, but he didn’t mind those sagging a bit either.

He’d never worn someone else’s stuff like this before.

Ugh, what a sap.

Katsuki tells himself it doesn't matter that much, it's just a t shirt, and it’s just shorts. It's just a person in a sea full of people. It's not that big of a deal.

A quick google search tells him that approximately two percent of the world's global population have green eyes.

But it's not that big of a deal, he repeats.

He keeps checking the time as if it would be prompted to move faster than usual, or that it was supposed to under the pressure of his persistent eyes.

It rains later in the morning, grey clouds covering the sun as he cleans and does his laundry, and all the usual crap he does on a day off. The agency made him stay home, because of his injuries, which were healing fine by the way. Whatever method Izuku had used was wondrous, leaving him with only some minor scrapes and the usual bruising. No good way to get rid of those anyways.

His phone buzzes as he’s sitting at the kitchen countertop, contemplating jerking off because he’s so damn bored and infatuated with someone he’s only met less than a month ago.

“What.” He answers it without even looking at who it was, but he recognizes the husky chipper voice right away.

“Good morning!” Eijirou says cheerfully.

“Mornin.”

“Mina and I are gonna go shopping today. You wanna come?”

“I ha-”

“And before you say ‘I hate shopping’, it’s not gonna be for too long and I think it might be nice to update your wardrobe. Give us like one hour of your precious time, pleaaaase?” The man begs in a radio static voice.

He looks down at his current attire, frowning at the idea of removing it.

“You'll probably bug me about it till I die if I don't so, whatever.” He agrees.

“Hell yeah, sweet! We'll pick you up?”

“Fine.” Katsuki grumbles.

Eijirou and Mina pull up about a half hour later. They had her car today, a black and white mini coupe rolling up to his apartment entryway and stopping in front of the steps.

“Hey man! Woah, since when do you wear basketball shorts? Looks like I was wrong to say you need a wardrobe update. They new?” Eijirou greets as he slides into the back seat of the car.

“Just shut up.” Katsuki retorts.

“New for him, maybe.” Mina winks at him, and his cheeks burn.

“I said, fuck off.”

“No, you said shut up.”

“How about both then!” He growls back. “Shut up and fuck off pinkie.”

Her smile drops to a solid frown at the insult.

“Seriously you two? Already with the fighting? We're not even to the mall yet!”

Yep, if there was anyone that could match his aggression, it was definitely her. He respected her for that, for being able to put up a fight and interrogate like some sort of apex militia sergeant.

“Sorry babe.” Mina says first, and Katsuki scoffs at the language in visual disgust.

“What! When you start dating you'll say it too.”

“I'm not gunna start dating now ever.” He protests.

“That's not what Kiri said.”

“You told her??” He shoots up, grabbing the edges of Eijirou's seat and causing it to tilt back, startling the man.

“What!? She's your friend too, and I made her promise not to tell!”

Katsuki groans.

“I don't care who you wanna date, we just want someone to treat you right kitkat.” Mina offers with a smile into the rear view mirror.

“Bakugou to you.” He barks, crossing his arms and slouching back.

“Fine.” She mutters reluctantly.

“So, I don't know about you guys but I need some new sweatshirts. The zipper on my favorite one just snapped off and it's got a ripped sleeve, sadly.” Eijirou changes the subject.

“Must be a continuous problem with your kind of quirk, huh babe.” Mina suggests with a slight swing to her tone.

Eijirou laughs, and it's so cheesy the way they interact that Katsuki is already regretting his decision to come along.

When they get to the mall, the two boys break off to check out the sports store while she shops lingerie, for an occasion Eijirou swears he wasn’t the one to plan out. Katsuki helps him pick out some new kicks and a few sweatshirts without zippers this time, though that probably won’t stop him from ripping holes into the sleeves when he accidentally activates his quirk after sneezing or something.

On the way back to Mina, Eijrou grabs his arm to stop them in front of what looked like some sort of cheap teenage party store.

“Dude, let's check it out!”

“Fine.” Katsuki agrees with his usual attitude.

The store is definitely half punk half alternative, a majority of clothing with hats and accessories at the back…plus a few less than discreet articles of clothing on rotating racks, if they could even be called that.

“Oh my god this is wild.” Eijirou comments, holding up a string attached to another string.

“What the hell are you supposed to do with that?”

“Wear it?” He shrugs, holds it up to his groin to display.

“Christ.” Katsuki blinks the thong out of his mind and shakes his head as he turns towards a wrack of short shorts.

Scratch that, upon further inspection he’s pretty sure it’s all underwear.

He picks up a thin grey pair of boxer briefs, frowning at them while flipping them back and forth.

“Those are hot.” Eijrou nods. He knows it's in a supportive way, and not a ‘gay’ way as he always tries to clarify.

“They don’t have my size anyways.” He hooks it back onto the rack and starts to walk away, but Eijioru starts laughing, and Katsuki was already halfway annoyed when he pauses and shoots the red haired man a look.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Kats, they’re supposed to be small. It’s kinda like….lingerie for men.” Eijirou holds the article up this time, showing him the tag.

Oh.

“See? The one you had is a medium, which should fit you.”

He reluctantly walks back over. No way in hell would his junk fit into this, though maybe that was the point.

“You should wear 'em for your appointment tomorrow.” Eijirou suggests with a shit eating grin and a few brow wiggles.

“Absolutely the fuck not.” He grumbles, turning to walk away again.

“Why not? I mean, you could just go naked but what’s the fun in skipping right to the point ya know?”

“Can we just cut the crap and acknowledge that my shit would fall outta that thing in seconds?”

“But…won't he just take all that out anyways?”

“Kirishima.” He hisses, red dotting his cheeks as he starts to flush.

“That is the plan, right?!”

“There is no damn plan!”

“Well then make one before I lose my mind trying to coach you with the only gender group I am not attracted to! It's really hard!” Eijirou pouts back.

Katsuki groans, loud, and storms off in the opposite direction of all the racks. There was nothing more infuriating than being pressured by Red Riot of all people. It's not that he didn't want to try it, but he'd really only consider it if at least he could get some privacy…

Anyways, Mina ends up picking out a few bodysuits when she meets up with them some minutes later. Katsuki waits at the entrance, and they leave about an hour after all is said and paid for. Eijirou and Mina unilaterally decide to go out to eat afterwards, and Katsuki considers it hell on earth when they start sharing food together like a straight rom com from the 90s. Katsuki wasn’t even mad about third wheeling anymore, happily avoiding any additional conversation by zoning out.

But overall, he decides the day wasn't that bad, and the longer he's out, the closer the day is to ending.

When they pull back up to Katsuki's apartment, Eijirou leans forward, rummaging through stuff he can't really see.

“Listen, I know you'll probably be pissed at me but…here.”

He throws a small paper bag back at Katsuki, no doubtedly from the party store they had wandered into earlier.

“Seriously Ei?” He doesn’t have to look to know what’s in the bag. He also didn’t know Red had a death wish.

“Just, try 'em on. In private! And if you absolutely hate them, you don't gotta wear them. You don't even have to tell me if you return them and keep the change, okay?”

He sighs, defeated as he rolls up the paper bag into his fist before getting out. Eijirou smiles at him, and he half asses a ‘thanks’ back through the window.

✦

Nighttime rolls around like a mid April storm.

Slow as fuck.

Hours later, Katsuki hadn’t moved an inch inside of his bathroom.

He’s standing in front of his mirror, gawking at himself, because he doesn’t even feel like he’s wearing anything and there’s simply no fucking coverage in these stupid small shorts at all.

They were booty shorts, probably meant for people half his size.

What the hell was Eijirou thinking?

His dick is shoved into the small fabric cut out, and his ass is halfway out the back. His only reaction is curse words, because how the hell was he supposed to even wear this without major issues.

If he gets hard, there’s nothing stopping him from slipping out, the thin material already taut against his dick half soft. Maybe he was wearing them wrong, or something…

He looks up a few examples of how they’re supposed to sit on his hips, while gripping the back material to pull it out of his ass every couple of seconds. It wasn't uncomfortable per say, but the way it hugged his curves was so unusual he didn't know what to do.

Finally giving in, he washes them, cutting off the tags and deciding he can just chuck it into the back of his closet and forget about it if he didn't want to wear it tomorrow. What the hell was he thinking, even considering wearing something so revealing to a massage appointment. Then to Eijirou’s point, some people did go fully nude.

The decision taunts him, makes him pace, because of course he looked good in them. Of course he wanted Izuku to drool all over him, but what if he was disgusted instead? He worked a professional job, not meant to be treated like some secret sex club where Katsuki’s job was to make him horny. He could just wear his normal attire and screw the whole idea too.

Maybe all he really needed was some sleep and time to think it through.

Or,

Or,

Maybe, he really needed that massage tonight instead; the idea lights up like a light bulb inside of his brain.

So in true Dynamight fashion, with very little planning, he puts his shoes on and grabs his keys again.

Fuck it.

✦

Katsuki shows up to the local shop as a walk-in for the first time since the first time, taking a seat in the waiting area like a normal person. It’s half past ten, surely they would be closing soon. He’s not even sure they take last minute ‘emergency’ visits from clients, but hell if he didn’t try; he knew he’d regret it.

“Nice to see you Dynamight.” Ochako greets politely when she emerges at the front desk. He gets up to meet her there.

“You too cheeks…is uh, is Deku here tonight?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “I'll take that over round face. I think he was just about to leave…wait, isn’t your appointment tomorrow?”

“I just really have a bad ache in my shoulder, figured he’d be able to rub it out quickly.” He lies.

She hums, looking through a book on the counter. “One sec, I’ll ask.”

He fidgets as she walks away, disappearing behind a door in the back. He does a few circles around the waiting room, his brain running in the same way and making him dizzy. He even holds his breath when she comes back out, sighing in his general direction.

“You’re lucky he likes you.” She says, giving him a knowing look. “Room seven.”

Katsuki sprints there.

As soon as the door closes behind him, he exhales, standing in the small unoccupied room awkwardly as his nerves continue to rise.

Focus. He starts his mental pep talk. You’re one of Japan’s top pros, you’re hot as fuck, and you know he’s gonna like it.

He sets his backpack down next to the massage table carefully, Izuku’s clothing folded neatly inside so he could return them as promised. He mourned the idea of sleeping in them again, however.

Katsuki takes a deep breath, pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants. Unfortunately, there were no mirrors in the room, probably for obvious reasons. He just had to trust the process. His pants come off, and he takes one more tug at his special new boxer briefs before laying down.

His face feels hot, and he tries to take another deep breath to calm down a bit, convincing himself that it was still no big deal.

As if to taunt him, he’s been laying on the massage table for a few minutes alone by the time the door opens.

“Izuku.” He breaths. It’s maybe a bit louder than he meant it to be, because Izuku responds back.

“Hi Kacchan…I still go by Deku at work, you know.” He reminds with a soft laugh.

“S’ not like there's anyone else around.” Katsuki complains, propping his head up on the table to talk and steal a peak at the massage therapist.

Izuku is quiet as he walks over, abnormal to his usual rambling self.

“I was surprised when ochako said you were here…only a few hours early.” He teases, because he’s actually like, a whole ass day early. “She said you were having some local pain.”

He places a hand on Katsuki’s lower back, letting it idle there as they chat, and he’s already screaming at the feeling.

“Something like that.” He evades.

Izuku's hand is warm and heavy as it begins to carefully trace over his spine, up and back down again until one of his fingers catches on the end of his boxer briefs. Katsuki waits expectantly, willing his dick to stay the fuck down while his skin prickles in anticipation.

“Any special requests today then?” Izuku's voice definitely seems softer than his usual nerdy and bubbly tone.

“Same as last time, the full or whatever.”

“Would you like me to do the front of your legs too?”

Hell yes.

“That's an option?” Katsuki asks genuinely.

“Yes, if you'd like.”

He gulps, knowing damn well that his underwear was much too revealing in the front, but he nods anyway.

“Stay on your back for now though, I’ll get started like usual, okay?”

“Mhm.” He murmurs into the cushion mats, lowering his head again.

So far, Izuku hasn’t acknowledged the thin fabric on his lower half. Maybe he just hasn’t noticed yet.

Hell, he might as well be blind if he hasn't noticed by now. Katsuki’s normal undergarments were long, covering the whole of his ass and fitting much looser around his legs. These were half that size, too much skin to not turn surprised eyes.

Maybe he wasn't suprised…

Katsuki spends the next few minutes melting into Izuku’s palms, all over again like usual. The feeling is ethereal against his worn shoulders, blending a mix of pleasure and pain into his skin as it courses through his body. He tries not to move too much, a small shift of his shoulders or hips occasionally causing Izuku to pause.

He felt eyes on him, naturally, but it made him feel so…vulnerable. Like his whole purpose was to sit still and look pretty for the man above him. But a particularly hard push against his side causes him to flinch and hiss.

“You’ve got a knot in your tensor fasciae latae muscle.” Izuku rubs the spot, and he bites his lip from the dull pain.

“My what?” His brain struggles.

“Here, lift your left hip a little bit.” Izuku instructs, with his left hand slipping beneath Katsuki's side firmly and the other bracing against his back. He muffles another strained exhale as the therapist helps him raise his side. He kneads the spot there with the heel of his palm, and Katsuki purrs when the sensation starts to lul him again. But the feeling slowly dies all together when he lets Katsuki’s body fall back down, flush to the table.

“Feel better?” He asks, rubbing the spot experimentally.

“Yeah”. He manages, inhaling sharply again when Izuku's hands retreat to his lower thighs, caressing down his sides as they move. He almost forgets any feeling of worry or uncertainty, until Izuku speaks up again.

“You responded well to this, last time.” Izuku says in an observant tone.

The comment catches him completely off guard and his eyes snap open, wide and curious. “What?”

“When I touched…here.” He says again softly, his fingers flexing against the inner muscle of Katsuki’s thighs, applying pressure just below the crease of his ass. Katsuki has to bite his lip again to keep himself from outright moaning at the sensation. He's no stranger to the feeling by now, not with Izuku at least. But it still makes his heart skip and his stomach flutter when he gets closer and closer to his-

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout.” He mutters into his arm, suddenly feeling embarrassed and resorting to quick denial.

“Should I stop then?”

“N-no.” Katsuki rushes. “No, don’t.” His urgency to keep the man’s hands in place on his sensitive skin was apparently much more important than that denial though.

“Don’t what?” Izuku purrs.

“You know what I mean.” He grumbles, and huffs when Izuku stops moving again, turning to him with a frown. There's something intimate about the expression on the therapist's face, and he smiles softly as their gaze catches one another.

“Humor me.”

He exhales hard out his nose, hesitant because Izuku is clearly toying with him now and it’s miserably obvious. His plan was working and it was making him lose control.

“Don’t…shit, just don’t stop.”

Still nothing.

“Deku…fuckin- please.” He forces out in a griff plea.

Izuku speaks softly, a hushed praise, and he can barely hear it when he whispers, “that's a good boy Kacchan.”

“Fuck.” He exhales verbally, his hands gripping into the cushions beside him, nails digging in deep enough to rip it. And then he gasps, Izuku using both his hands to rub at the sensitive skin between his thighs with his thumbs, closer to his groin. The pressure makes his muscles twitch, and his legs shift involuntarily.

“You’re shaking.” Izuku notices. “You gotta remember to breathe for me.”

He says it so innocently, like the reason for his restlessness was completely unrelated to the fact that he's got hands touching sensitive spaces. As if it wasn't even happening.

Katsuki tries his best, a hand stroking up and down his spine again in deliberate slow motions to graciously help him settle. God he was pathetic. His dick was still covered and he was already halfway to orgasm by the simplest of touches. He was losing it with a single palm to his back and squeeze to his inner thighs.

More, he begs silently.

Izuku’s hands retreated slowly, tracing back up to where his skin creases below his ass before curving his hands forward, along the outside of his thighs. They slowly slip underneath his body, so the tips of his fingers can barely touch the front of Katsuki’s legs, between his skin and the table. He kneads at the space deliberately, sending a hot chill up his spine and makes his hips lift involuntarily.

What a fucking tease.

He’s slowly slipping and they both know it, slowly losing himself to the feeling of being touched in places he never had been.

“Deku” he pleads as the feeling starts to melt into pure pleasure, pressing on his bladder and pulling at his pelvis. He’s not sure if it’s because of the pressure too close to his groin or the sheer amount of pre cum he was surely leaking by now.

“I know.” The therapist coos back. “It’s a lot, I know.”

The way Izuku speaks sends shock waves to his brain, stunned by the way he sounds so alluring and so aware of what the hell he's doing to Katsuki's body.

After Izuku finishes with the space below his tummy and around his hips, he grabs hold of Katsuki's entire fucking waist and uses his thumbs to push his whole body back down. He hadn't even realized how far up he'd been arching, and his hips resisting the pressure; tense.

“Relax.” Izuku reminds, and as if it was a spell, Katsuki's hips crash back onto the mat.

Like some cruel joke, Izuku's hands move to his calves, completely ignoring the rest of him. Katsuki has to act normal, act like that was fine for a solid five minutes. It took all his will power not to explode, literally.

And when he does finalIy move back up?

It’s unbearable, the slow draw of Izuku’s fingers against his back and hot skin, doing everything all over again and barley touching his sensitive spots all while Katsuki’s brain chants,

Touch me

Touch me

Touch me

He might cry from being so pent up by the time Izuku's hands return to the back of his thighs, exhaling in relief as the soft squeezes move up each muscle. But this time, when Izuku presses at the crease of his ass again, he feels a light pressure of two thumbs rubbing circles into his skin, softly slipping against his taint.

Izuku knows it’s too much, too close, but he does it anyway.

Katsuki’s toes curl, and his hips gyrate; the teasing pressure making him go insane.

And god is he desperate for the feeling to drop, just a bit lower, to massage into his tight heavy balls. To push against his pulsing cock right below them, desperate for some kind of second hand pressure against the rest of his sex.

But all he can do is writhe and gasp under him.

“You don’t get touched like this often, do you Kacchan?”

He might as well come right there on the spot, willing to suffer a ruined orgasm if that’s what it took. His dick throbs, his whole body shifting to accommodate its sudden growth as Izuku’s hands knead into him, all the blood rushing right to his groin. He groans and rolls his hips backwards to feel more of the pressure, but it’s suddenly gone again.

It’s devastating, and that’s when he decides he can’t take it anymore.

“How much extra.” He growls, his body twitching and his cock aching, pooling wet against his stomach.

“What?”

“How. Much. Extra.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” He hisses, desperately gripping the table below him as he rolls his hips.

Izuku looks at him wearily, like it’s a secret and he can’t quite trust Katsuki with it yet. But he sees right through the man’s mask, the mask that says he hasn’t done this before. He knows that this isn’t new for his innocent, nerdy massage therapist.

Izuku has done this before.

Katsuki sets aside his pride, sets aside his better morals, laying there in front of Izuku like a pawn in his own game and he lacks any control. He strains to look back at the green haired man with angry, teary eyes, desperate for something to push him over the edge.

Then, Izuku’s eyes soften and Katsuki exhales in uncertain relief. If this was the one argument he’d win, he’ll take the victory like it’s a damn surrender.

“Twenty.”

He practically throws his wallet at Izuku, which he accepts by pulling out a few hundred yen and placing it on the small wooden table beside them.

“I have one rule.”

“Fucking what.” Katsuki spits, anxiety and arousal stirring inside his stomach.

He holds back a broken protest as Izuku leaves his side, but then the lights dim, with everything around him slowly losing color and causing his pupils to dilate.

From the opposite direction, Izuku appears in front of him, fingers slipping underneath his chin till he’s loosely cupping Katsuki’s jaw. His eyes drag up, up, up, till they meet Izuku's emerald green gaze…

and he's got one finger up to his pursed lips.

Chapter Text

Katsuki's head relaxes into Izuku's palm as the therapist holds his chin in place, his eyes wide as they match each other's alluring gaze. He can't even smile back, he just stares like an idiot. A big horny fucking idiot.

He doesn't trust anyone like this, ever. He's never had the chance either way, and never cared enough to try. But the eyes so heavily glued to his own were understanding as much as they were clouded, waiting for some kind of unspoken permission. Waiting to make sure that Katsuki actually wanted this.

Izuku’s thumb brushes against his jaw, and his heart rattles when the feeling repeats a few times, similar to the way he would rub Katsuki’s lower back in passing or to encourage his tense limbs to stop shaking.

“Turn over.” Izuku instructs quietly.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… he panics.

Katsuki’s head drops low when he finally lets go, lashes fluttering as he searches the floor for anything to calm his nerves because he was about to get jerked off by a professional massage therapist, of all people. At least that’s what he presumed would be happening, not that he would decline a blow job instead. But as a pro, he did have to maintain somewhat of a professional and moral figure, even if this makes him a degenerate by default. He wasn’t going to ask for anything, though an offer would be…different.

Besides, this would probably be the best and only hand job he’d ever receive in his entire life. He’d take what he can get. So he toughs out the nerves, taking a big deep breath to clear his mind as he senses a presence at his side.

With wavering confidence, he moves, raises himself up on two haunches, exhaling before slowly turning his body on shaky arms.

The unsteady table wiggles under his motion, but Izuku keeps it steady for him as he rotates his hips, heart racing as he watches his cock fall heavy against the thin material constricting it under the influx of gravity.

His back rests easy against the table as he lays all the way down, but he’s so positive Izuku can see his chest rapidly rising and falling, heaving as he settles on his back for the first time.

Izuku’s hand falls lightly against the top of his shoulder, and he watches the few fingers connecting to his skin slowly slip down. Katsuki swallows, and swears he forgets how to breathe under the pressure of his gaze and the familiar pads of his fingertips. They run down his shoulder, tracing the outline of his collarbone, his index finger lightly running over his nipple, whether intentional or not, making him shiver.

Katsuki tries to prop himself up on his elbows to follow the feeling of fingers on the curve of his abdomen and stomach, all the way down to his hips and the hem of his boxer briefs…or lack thereof. Izuku’s eyes flicker up, hooded and interested and fuck. He lets his head drop back and eyes close, unsure if this was over stimulating or too completely erotic for his inexperienced brain. He can barely will himself not to tense at the feeling of a few fingers.

Izuku huffs lightly, amused. “These barely cover anything Kacchan.”

Katsuki whines in complaint, because it's embarrassing just how exposed he is in comparison to the massage therapist. Katsuki’s body is nude, save for the small area at his groin being covered with sheer cotton. He was an idiot for thinking Izuku wouldn't notice something like that, but if the goal was for him to notice in the first place…

He can no longer deny that it was a complete play. Opting for sexy over comfort for the first time in his damn life, to impress someone.

He feels Izuku tracing over the fabric covering, but as his fingers start wandering, Katsuki’s head is quick to jerk back up because he decides he has to know what’s about to happen in real time, to avoid any surprises. Where do you think quirk accidents come from?

“Has anyone ever done this for you before?” Izuku asks, his voice soft and sweet.

“Plenty.” He lies in a moment of weakness, watching the man as his middle finger continues on to trace the hem, back and forth, while the others draw and tease over various spots of fabric at his hips.

Back and fucking forth.

Izuku hums, like he only half believes Katsuki’s response.

“What do you like then?”

He’s shockingly halfway to “put your dick in me”, despite being in utter denial that this was even happening.

“Anything.” He rushes, urgency accompanying another twitch of his dick as Izuku’s fingers dip around the sewn sides and his inner thighs. “Everything.”

“I need something a little bit more specific Kacchan.”

“Fuck.” He squirms, thoughts running rampant when he considers everything he'd like Izuku to do to him. “Just…touch…please…”

He begs for it; It’s all he can do without exploding, literally.

“Touch?”

Izuku walks towards the edge of the massage table, and starts slowly rubbing into his calves, squeezing and rolling at his skin. His hips jerk to accompany the sudden abandonment.

“Like this?” Izuku asks, like a damn innocent brat who knows exactly what he’s doing to get more of a response. He even smirks.

“..higher…more, fuck.”

His hands slip up the fronts of his lower legs, over his knees, up his thighs, further and further up, giving Katsuki a look like he's asking for consent again. But the sudden motion has the pro tensing, brows furrowed in sudden anxiety. It’s almost too much, almost. Izuku is teasing him like this isn't new at all, like they'd been doing this for years.

But despite the sudden touch, something changes, and Izuku is standing back up by his torso. He doesn’t even realize he’s about to hyperventilate.

“Hey.” He calls softly, a hand extending up to Katsuki’s head, fingers getting tangled in his hair again.

“I promise I'll be gentle Kacchan. You don't have to be nervous.”

“M’ not.” He mutters, turning away from the therapist to hide another inevitable shade of pink on his cheeks.

“Then relax for me, so I can make you feel good.”

He’s too stressed and horny and riled up and teased to stop the minor burst of emotion that comes next.

“I'm fuckin relaxed, okay?? So just shut up and quit teasing m-” He starts, flustered, but that's before Izuku's hand slinks down his stomach and his palm carefully clasps over his cock in mere seconds. Katsuki hisses between his teeth, his head falling back as everything pulses and he sees stars.

Nevermind feeling overwhelmed when he was now doused in a pleasure that warmed his entire body, giving him a whole body spasm as Izuku squeezed again lightly. He grunts out, hands whipping around to the edges of the massage table as he claws at something to hold onto.

Izuku rolls his palm, painstakingly slow, then his fingers leave Katsuki’s cock, and he pulls them back up to his face, a shiny layer of wet all over his fingers.

Fuck me, he screams mentally, unironically.

“Is all of this for me too? You're so wet.” He replies in admiration.

“Deku…please. I can’t…” He groans and whines, watching the man rub his finger against the other to spiderweb the wetness between them. Izuku was ruthless, back to toying with him after giving him barley a taste of what his hands really felt like.

The damn bastard. It's not like he could control how turned on he gets, let alone how wet he gets.

“As much as I like these…I need them off, okay?” Izuku murmurs, hooking both his index fingers at the top of the fabric and tugging. Izuku looked deep into his eyes as he moved, like an obsession, but Katsuki couldn’t tell which of the two were more obsessed than the other.

When the material is pulled away, down his thighs, he's exhaling in relief as the cool air engulfs his cock, finally allowing it to sit freely. Even as he stands fully erect between the both of him, the way Izuku is staring at him doesn’t change. He holds his breath, ready for the gorgeous green haired man hovering over him to look down, to give him a hopefully good response about it, a compliment maybe.

But…he doesn’t look.

He…doesn’t even attempt to, and Katsuki gives him a weary expression back as his eyes shift, back and forth.

“Are you going to be good while I touch your cock Dynamight?” He whispers, and Katsuki exhales heavily, chest rising and falling with staggered breaths.

“You haven’t even seen it yet.” He challenges in his normal husky tone.

“I don’t have to.” Fingers brush up against his hot skin, and his legs tense as the center of Izuku’s palm rubs up the back of his cock.

“Holy fuck.” He grows, and Izuku hums, maybe in a round of approval as Katsuki watches himself twitch and jump at the attention.

Izuku's hand comes to wrap around his length with a soft grip, and Katsuki swears he's about to cry again until Izuku starts a light stroking motion. His nails dig into the fabric of the chair some more, hips canting into the feeling like its nicotine.

“Easy, easy.” Izuku reminds as he's gasping, trying to keep his breaths steady and failing miserably. But he really does try his best, loosening his grip and letting his eyes close.

Izuku squeezes, accompanied by more praise and eliciting a softer moan from his lips as his chest falls in a deep breath out. “That's better, Kacchan.”

“Deku.” He whimpers, breaking the moment as he senses a familiar feeling in a completely foreign situation, as Izuku builds a tight up and down rhythm. His thumb brushes against the head of his cock and twists each time he reaches the top, over and over again. Katsuki can’t help but to whine and growl, an intimate and powerless display of need coming from his mouth. His body betrays him, but he doesn’t have half the mind to fight the way his hips buck up, and a loud groan slips from his lips at a particularly hard tug.

“Shhh.” Izuku cooes, his pace slowing to an agonizingly lazy movement. “I need you to be quieter, remember?”

“I can't-” He argues, alluding to the fact that he was maybe ten seconds away from coming right that very second. He only gets about a few seconds more to let the feeling fade.

“You can.” Izuku responds confidently, cutting him off and missing the point completely. Even worse, he starts to build up the pressure again with heavier, faster strokes around his pulsing cock. Katsuki bites his lip as his body starts to climb again, hard enough to break skin.

“F-fuck, De..deku..” he whispers this time, in a gruff and needy way, and he feels a another hand to his hair again. Katsuki shoots up, arms leaving the table to lunge forward and hold onto the man for dear life. Izuku lets him, practically holds him closer, tightly pressed into his side as he continues to stroke him.

The musky smell on Izuku’s clothes isn't helping, but damn is it nice.

“That's it, big guy. That's it.”

Katsuki is clawing into Izuku's robe now, like it's an anchor and he's pulling the surface back down to himself. The sensation builds and builds and builds, until it hits the brim.

“Deku.” He pants in sudden urgency and panic, his hands shaking as he tries to grab hold of the man’s arm. “W-wait, stopstop.”

“It’s okay Kacchan, I got you.” he reassures in a whisper against his ear.

“N-no…I-“

He comes hard.

It's harder than he ever has, cock pulsing as white ropes of liquid decorate Izuku's hand. But the man next to him just hold him tight as he groans and writhes against his climax. His body convulses, and he faintly registers the smell of burnt fabric as it fills his nose, the feeling of something melting against his palms.

Izuku is murmuring something sweetly into his ear, but he can barely hear a damn thing, radio static filling his brain.

He doesn't even realize his quirk has gone off until he's slowing down again, his breaths not as scattered and his dick slowly falling back against his stomach, red and leaking.

Katsuki opens his eyes again, not knowing what day it was, what time it was, where he was…until he looks back up at Izuku. The man's wearing an amused smile, and his robe is burnt black around the edges where he had held on tight.

There are only two things a quirk user should be worried about during sex.

Number one is their quirk accidentally going off, and causing some sort of property damage or impromptu hospital visit.

And number two, is coming too quick.

Katsuki has just managed to do both.

“Fuck I'm sorry.” Katsuki spills, his chest still heaving as he comes down, completely embarrassed by the accident and the amount of cum now covering his stomach and Izuku's hand.

“Don't be.” Izuku smiles at him, encouraging. “I...really enjoyed that."

It goes to his head immediately, and Katsuki's chest puffs while he beams, feeling a little less troubled by the scene after the comment.

“Then your dreams came true tonight i guess, nerd.” He says, playing it cool to mask his complete misery from coming too soon.

Izuku laughs casually. “Yeah, I guess they did…some of them.”

Katsuki shoots him an eye, but his lips stay shut as he walks over to the supplies table for a towel.

“Here.” He grabs one for Katsuki too, handing it over to him so he can wipe the rest off himself.

“Thanks.”

“Deku.” Katsuki calls, without much thought.

“Yes?”

“So…you've done this before, haven't you?”

“I guess the secret’s out now, huh.” He shys, a hand gripping his arm as he looks down. “I'm sorry for…lying. I just didn't want you to think that I was gonna try something…I didn't want you to stop coming.”

“Why the hell would I stop coming?” Katsuki squints at him in confusion.

“If I’m being honest…you’re the only big time pro hero who doesn’t talk about dating, sexuality, all that. I’ve..checked…and I can’t find a single interview about your personal life. I didn’t know if you’d be uninterested or grossed out if I offered something like…this.”

“Don't worry about it. Just…” He pauses, giving himself another chance to back out of the offer.

“Hm?” Izuku hums.

“How much do you make?”

“That's kind of a personal question…” Izuku hesitates with a shy laugh and quirked brows.

“Whatever it is, I'll double it if you agree to be my personal massage therapist from now on.”

Izuku looked stunned in place. “What??”

“You heard me.” He grumbles.

“That's a very nice offer Kacchan but…I like my job. I like working here.” He finally responded. “I like my friends here too, I couldn't leave them…”

“Alright, alright I get it…” He mutters, trying to make it seem like he was less disappointed than he really was. It was clearly too much of a spontaneous offer.

“Are you….feeling jealous Kacchan?” Izuku laughs.

“The fucking hell I'm not jealous. Just wanted to offer you better pay for your work, idiot.” He barks, his blush returning full swing despite the afterglow.

Izuku laughs again, “I'm okay here, I promise I'm being paid well, so you don't have to worry about me.”

“Whatever…” He grumbles, arms crossed. “Not fuckin worried, I don’t care what you do.”

“You're overthinking things again Kacchan.”

Katsuki freezes, unsure what he's referring to this time.

“I offered you a service, you paid, it's no big deal, okay?”

And then, three words fall from Izuku's lips. Three, miniscule, normal words.

“It's just business.”

✦

Katsuki leaves the massage parlor speechless that night. Defeated, for once in his life; for the first time since he had started his career, actually.

Izuku Midoriya had just jerked him off, and made him cum.

Izuku Midoriya had just given him the best hand job he'll definitely ever receive.

And then right after that had the sheer audacity to call it business.

Fucking business.

He wanted to rip all his hair out of his head, because he couldn't figure out why something so minor made his gut twist in the worst way possible, how it made his heart tug like it was a damn rejection.

He stands outside the shop door, completely lost on how he was supposed to feel. Why did it feel…horrible?

He growls, squeezing his fists tight as little sparks simmer off of his fingertips while he tries to figure out how to deal with the anxiety and discontent rippling through him.

Instead of going home, he opts for the rooftops. It’s only a little coincidental when he makes a full circle and ends up with his legs over the ledge of Izuku’s apartment complex. Right back where he started.

Even that pissed him off.

He knew what window it was, he could just bust in and pin the man to his own bed until he gave in, admitting that he was deathly attracted to Katsuki like he was supposed to be. Dynamight had been ranked Japan's top hero multiple years in a row for god sakes. It felt different when the shoe was on the other foot though. When he wanted someone more than they wanted him.

He could just stop showing up.

He could just ghost the man and stay a mystery on tv for the rest of their lives.

He couldn’t help but mutter and grumble out into the sky, because maybe the situation wasn’t a big deal, and he was overreacting,but there’s no way in hell Izuku was just doing this for the money.

He said he was well off, fine with his current income, in fact, so why the hell was he offering jerk off sessions on the clock like he needed the extra cash?

“Fucking stupid.” He says to himself, for even considering the idea that he was special.

Izuku did this for other people too, probably on the regular and with long time clients he knew much better than Katsuki. As much of a nerd as he was, it didn’t even seem like him being a pro hero mattered. But he felt so sure that a nerd like him, would be into that.

It made his brain hurt.

“Yo, Dynamight, that you?”

His head snaps over to his right, eyeing a red winged hero landing only feet away from him and groans.

“What do you want.” Katsuki grumbles.

“Nothin, I just didn’t expect to see you out so late.”

“Well you’ve seen me, so go away.”

“Woah woah, chill out hot sauce. I mean no harm.” Hawks responds in his usual smooth talking stupid ass voice. Katsuki gets irritated just thinking about it sometimes, while all the other pros swoon over his feathered ass.

“Whatcha doin up here?” He asks, taking a seat next to him. Katsuki frowns, crossing his arms and scooching over to avoid being right next to each other.

“None of your damn business.”

“You’re right.” Hawks sighs, and he’s pleased with the minute of silence the other pro allows.

“Ya know, if you’re having guy problems I can definitely give some friendly advice.”

“Why the hell does everyone always assume that, I’m fuckin fine!”

“Not to be that bird, Bakugou, but you're sitting on a rooftop at half past midnight looking like you just got dumped….you…didn’t just get dumped, did you?”

“No.”

“Whew. Glad to hear it. So what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing as in something?”

“Look, I came here to be alone, not to be given a pep talk by some fuckin extra.”

“So I’m right.” Hawks grins, and it’s so fucking annoying that he just swindled information from Katsuki without so much as a pause.

“Fine. Guy problems or whatever. Now leave me alone.” He admits in a mutter.

Naturally, the man ignores him.

“Guys are hella complicated, dude. Nobody blames you for being tough on it. You gotta act a certain way or they’ll completely ignore it, assume like, you're just being super friendly and straight. Hell, I’ve had plenty of friend-zoned conversations because I didn’t make it billboard size clear that I was into em.”

“Yeah, well that’s different.”

“Mm.” Hawks nods, like he’s listening, and Katsuki falls for it like it’s a trap because he’s speaking before he can shut his mouth.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t know I’m gay by now. But he acts like it’s…just business.”

“Are you fucking a prostitue?”

“No, you fucking- no I’m not fucking anyone and even if I was I wouldn’t be telling you of all people.” He says, realizing a bit too slowly that he’s already picking up Izuku’s mannerisms.

“I didn’t say you were, just asked.” Hawks shrugs, leaning back against his hands and looking out into the skyline. “Well, if he acts like it’s just business, Make it more than just business. Give em’ a reason to want you back in a more…personal way.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It’s like dating, right? If you know he’s into you, use that to your advantage. Sounds like he’s at least lookin’ your way so it’s not like you’re starting at rock bottom. Then when he’s struggling to keep things ‘business casual’, make it ten times harder.”

Katsuki thinks about it. “So what, seduce him?”

“Why not? Show up naked if you have to.” Hawks snorts “That’ll be hard to ignore.”

It’s probably a joke…he should take the whole conversation as a joke.

“So…you're gonna tell me who the lover boy is?”

“Hell fucking no.” Katsuki shoots back.

“We were all kinda secretly betting on you and Shinsou.” Katsuki throws in casually, messing with one of his feathers lazily.

“Huh??”

“Mirko thought it was Shouto.”

“That icy hot bastard???” He half yells.

“Quiet down! Jeez…I wasn’t tryna get you riled up.” Hawks sighs. “You need to go downstairs.”

The comment makes him pause, eyes wandering to the man next to him. “Downstairs?”

“Yeah! You happened to put up shop right above that massage place I was tellin y’all about.”

“Yeah okay, whatever.” He rushes, trying desperately to avoid the subject.

“Might do ya some good, ruffle out your feathers. I know one of em if you want me to put in somethin for ya.”

“No thanks.” He grumbles, feeling way more nervous.

“No really, that green haired guy I mentioned has some spots open. He’s got killer hands.”

Yeah, I fuckin know. Katsuki wants to bark at him.

“Anyways, have you seen Endeavor around?” Hawks throws up a hand to act as if he was looking around.

“The old man? Nah, but if you think you see the sun it’s probably just his fat ass glowing in the sky.”

Hawks bursts into laughter. “Close enough, welcome back Bakugou. I prefer ya less mopey.”

He scoffs and the man pushes his shoulder playfully as he chuckles.

Despite his complaints, talking with Hawks does help. He tries his best not to think about the fact that he knows exactly who Katsuki is talking about, and not by coincidence. Maybe if he never mentions it, it’ll be like it never happened.

Besides, he had bigger problems to be worrying about.

His next appointment came by quicker than the last, his brain still buzzing with a hint of alcohol as he opens the door to Hurt and Comfort quarter past nine. His agency's safety commission conference had lasted a whole two hours longer, which was enough to land a fancy wine beverage into his hand halfway through. He was calmer at least, as he greeted Ochako and walked back to the room. But actually being there again? After what happened last time?

His mood was still completely spoiled.

Maybe calmer wasn’t the right word at all. He was still agitated, just…a bit less explosive about it. He was fed up with the idea that they were only doing business here, the worn faux leather of the chair reminding him.

Was it business when he took Katsuki up to his apartment?

Was it business when he let Katsuki wear his clothes home?

Was it fucking business when he had his cum all over his hand and looked like he was about to lick his fingers clean of it?

Well, Katsuki wasn’t a pushover, and he wasn’t about to give up the attention.

He discards his underwear completely this time, slinking onto the table as he usually does. His knees hurt, but whatever, he’s here for a damn massage anyways, what’s a little more physical stress if it meant getting a real, personal reaction out of Izuku. He's just glad the lights are still dimmed.

He would normally rest his head on his arms and close his eyes till he hears the door open, or restlessly let them hang off the side and sway, trying to relax. Normally, he would lay flat on his stomach, pressing his thighs together and relaxing his body into the cushioning.

But this time?

This time, he props his knees up and drops hips.

Chapter Text

“Ka-" Izuku starts, elated, only to choke on his own spit as he inevitably sees Katsuki on his hands and knees, bare ass on full display as the therapist walks into the room.

The door closes rather aggressively.

“Kacch-what are you-oh my god…” Izuku barely gets a thought out before he's going quiet again, presumably staring, though Katsuki can't see what he's doing as his head is smooshed to the matted surface facing the opposite side of the room.

It was far too late for him to correct the position, or drop to something a bit less revealing, so he rolls with it, trying his best to stay steady. The massage table was positioned sideways, so at least it wasn't right in his face…

Okay, maybe it was a bit more front and center than he thinks.

“You haven’t…um, shit… you haven't even… um, paid yet for something like this…eh…yet.” He tries in a light hearted laugh, but Katsuki is not in the mood to put up with it. He'd rather entertain the flustered therapist behind him instead of ignoring the elephant in the room and pretending it was an accident or something. He shoots his arm out, pointing at the side table where he’s preemptively thrown another couple thousand yen. “On the table.”

“O-oh okay.” Izuku stutters, surprised. “W-well…I'll leave you some privacy if you-”

“Quit making excuses and get the hell over here.” He growls, becoming more impatient as the blood rushes to his head.

“I….Kacchan” Izuku whines, like he's a dog told to sit still in front of an open jar of treats and Katsuki fucking loves it. Loves that he can make Izuku, a puppy dog of a (presumed) top, embarrassed and cry about it like a power play. Katsuki knows what a bratty bottom looks like, and the alcohol in his system just told him to go play fetch.

He still can't see Izuku, but he wants to imagine the flush spreading over his cheeks, wants to imagine him biting his lip and squeezing his hands as he resists the urge to grab Katsuki by the waist and-

“Kacchan we really shouldn't be d-”

“It’s just business, isn’t it?” He plays the comment off coolly, petty in a similar fashion to Izuku's own statement. “No big fuckin’ deal.”

There's a pause as Izuku is sputtering, still trying to find the right response. “Just...what?”

“Don’t get all shy now, you wimp. We did this last time.”

“I’m not, I don't-…understand.”

Katsuki's growl turns into an irritated sigh as he has to continue explaining. “That if it's just buisness then get the fuck on with it. It shouldn't matter.”

“Kacchan.” His voice wavers again, like a whine. “What shouldn't matter?”

Maybe it was the alcohol combined with his growing impatience, because Katsuki decides he can't take it anymore, so he turns his head to the side, looking over towards the door and finding Izuku…rather…the back of his head because he's facing the damn wall. Katsuki scoffs, realizing he had never even looked in the first place.

“Ugh, whatever. If you didn't want the fucking cash you should've made that clear last time.” He bites back disappointment, too fed up with the situation and slowly losing his blood alcohol level, which included his forward confidence. Maybe it was mean, or inconsiderate, but a quick way to clear up a miscommunication was to blame it on something a bit more obvious than…actually wanting it.

“You….really took that literally didn't you…”

What?

“You said it yourself, you'd do this for anyone as long as they pay up, so what does it matter if I support your stupid business and do it again. It’s not like this is some romance bull shit.” Katsuki rationalizes, even to himself.

“I just said it was business because you looked really…um…affected by it and-.” Izuku continues to stutter.

“The hell are you talking about Deku.”

“I-” he starts, but is rudely interrupted by a blaring alarm screeching throughout the building. It echoes around the room, and the noise shuts both of them up real fast. Out of all the inconveniences he's experienced, this one was just outright making fun of him.

“Crap, um, I think that's the fire alarm.”

“You've got to fucking kidding me.” Katsuki finally flips himself to sit on the seat upright, and jumps when he sees Izuku in front of him, his hands quickly moving to cover himself as the other stares at him, his face alert and pointed. Before he can protest, Izuku throws some sort of thick fabric sheet over his bare body, and it floods him with the man’s natural musky scent. He looks up to see a casually clothed Deku in front of him. He's got on a regular white t-shirt and shorts, similar to the outfit he gave Katsuki some days ago. He also realizes the sheet isn't a sheet at all but rather, Izuku's work robe, and it's still warm against his skin.

“Put that on and wait here for a second. I'll go check what's going on outside.” He says in an authoritative tone.

“Let me go.” Katsuki insists, but Izuku catches him with an extended arm.

“We probably need to evacuate, so please dress yourself and wait till I come back alright?"

He doesn't have a chance to object again before Izuku is zipping out of the room and leaving him to change. Katsuki muttered to himself, grumpy about everything that had just transpired. He was a pro hero, he should be the one going out there and checking into it. But, to Izuku's point he was naked and off the clock. Who knows, maybe he had a killer quirk anyways. Katsuki realized he hadn't even asked about that yet.

He does his best to tie the robe, contemplating just changing back into his own clothes, but Izuku is already running back into the room by the time he picks them up.

“Someone pulled the fire alarm because of a gas leak, so we need to get out of here quickly, but I'll take you out the back so we're not put in the crowd.” Izuku announces, now giving Katsuki his full visual attention as he nods. Clearly the man had no problem looking at him otherwise, now that he was dressed. It pissed him off, how Izuku could go from a meticulously intentional hand job to not even looking his way anymore. Was it his body? No, Izuku sees and touches that twice a week with no problem. So what the hell was wrong with him?

“Fine.” He grumbles. If he had to take orders from extras, Izuku would be the only one to get a free pass, that's for sure.

They exit the private room and turn the opposite direction of the residential staircase, Izuku leading him through an emergency exit door instead of the front. It was packed anyways, though most people were too busy focusing on getting outside rather than looking behind them as the two men snuck out.

Cool air hits his thighs first as they emerge outside into the back of a small alleyway, presumably at the other side of their building. He can hear the distant wail of fire trucks as they walk out onto the next street. Thankfully, it's empty.

“Where the hell would a gas leak come from?” Katsuki asks, unconvinced.

“It's an old building, so I'm not surprised. This happened once before too but it turned out to be a false alarm, just natural gas.”

“So, if it's the same issue they'll let us back in?”

“I can’t say for sure but…last time it took them a whole day to clear the place. I had to stay at a hotel which was…inconvenient.” Izuku laughs, distracting from the clearly unpleasant memory.

“What, you don't have family around here?” Katsuki questions as they walk alongside the narrow street.

“Not nearby unfortunately. My mom is on the west side past Shibuya but, I'll be okay!” He turns to his usual bright attitude again. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Izuku's phone lights up, buzzing with an incoming call. The two stop their slow walk so he can answer it.

“Hey ‘Chako.” Izuku greets, his cheerful demeanor slowly dropping as he nods and listens. “Really? Oh wow….okay…no, no that's fine, I'll find a place.”

Katsuki watches him talk, waiting and listening to the scene across the street as another truck pulls up. He can see the emergency lights flashing through the alley, reflecting onto windows and stone.

Izuku ends the call with a disappointed sigh, dropping his shoulders and mumbling. “Hotel it is.”

“What'd cheeks say?” Katsuki asks.

Izuku gives him a sideways glance at the name but moves on from it quickly. “It was a real gas leak this time, they're doing construction on the floor above and hit a line…she said we can't go back at all tonight. I’m sorry our appointment got cut short, Kacchan.”

“Whatever.” He grumbles.

“I'll have to find a place to spend the night now I guess.” He plans to himself in a hushed voice, going back to his phone. “I've got a friend close by so he would probably-”

“You can stay at mine.” Katsuki offers, interrupting him mid sentence as his blood heats from the thought of Izuku sleeping with someone else.

Izuku looks stunned at the offer, stopping in place with big wide eyes, like he wants to say yes but is scared to actually say it.

“Oh, nono I shouldn't impose I-”

“Cut the nice bullshit and come home with me, nerd. I've got a couch, s’ not that big of a deal.” He pressures.

He can tell the man is thinking about it by the way his jaw shifts and eyes wander.

“Would that really be okay? Just for the night?”

“For the night or whatever.” Katsuki agrees, and Izuku's lips press together tightly, like he's hiding a smile. He can’t hide the shimmer of excitement in his eyes though.

“Thanks Kacchan.”

✦

“So, where does your quirk actually come out of?”

“Wherever I want it to.”

“Can you cook food on your palms?”

“Never tried something dumb like that before.”

“Does your body temperature run hot or cold?”

“You should know that one, idiot.”

“O-oh, yeah I guess I do.” Izuku giggles. “Very warm.”

“But do you ever overheat?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Oh…ah, sorry.” He mutters, and Katsuki is groaning because now he feels shitty about calling him out. Izuku had been rattling off questions the whole taxi ride back to his place. It wasn't far, a couple blocks over maybe, but the nerd didn't have a coat now and the weather was starting to drop intolerably.

They get to his apartment some minutes later, taking a long escalator ride up to the top floor and Izuku beaming at the size of his flat as they walk through the door.

“Woah…Kacchan this place is amazing!” He drops his shoes at the entrance, stepping inside and spinning around like a kid, a big grin covering his cheeks. It was about five times the size of his own, so it’s no surprise. Katsuki barely gets inside by the time he’s standing at the large sliding doors of his porch, peeking outside.

“No way you've got a private bath on your balcony?? And the fire place…and-oh my gosh..” He cuts himself off with a gasp as he turns the opposite direction, half startling Katsuki, until he too sees what grabbed his attention.

“Is that a limited edition one of a kind go-”

“Yes yes, golden aged All Might illustration.” He explains in a monotone voice, like it's not that big of a deal (it is).

Katsuki moves to his kitchen, setting out his wallet and running a glass of water as per his usual routine when he gets home at night. After a moment of dead silence though, he looks back over to see tears streaming down Izuku's cheeks.

“What the hell, are you crying??”

“It's…Kacchan it's signed.” He sniffles.

“Well yeah, I've known the man since like seven years ago.”

“Wow.” Izuku marvels again, staring at the poster with big watery eyes. His hand extends, and it looks like he wants to touch the frame, but he only hovers over it. The gesture is so gentle though, fingers waving in the air before they drop back down to his side.

“Wait here, I'll go grab some blankets n shit.” Katsuki cuts in.

Izuku nods with a happy smile, but doesn’t turn away from the painting.

He walks down the long hallway towards his room, brain wracked as he realizes the situation. Out of all the things he expected to do that evening, having his massage therapist spend the night was not one of them. Eijirou was the only person he’d ever let spend the night before, and despite his affliction to Izuku, it was giving him small bursts of anxiety. Should he give up his own bed? Should he offer extra clothes? Dinner?

Katsuki emerges again to find Izuku out on the balcony, the door halfway cracked. He watches for a moment, secretly admiring the man’s thighs and the curves of his shoulders before joining him outside.

“I put some extra clothes on the couch.” He relays, saying something at the sliding door before stepping out onto the balcony, as to not startle him.

“Thank you.” Izuku responds politely. Katsuki joins him, standing with his arms resting on the railing and looking out into the sparkling night city.

“If I lived here, I'd spend all my time out on this porch.”

“It’s too damn windy.” He complains, but Izuku doesn’t seem to care, the wind rustling his hair about freely.

“Kacchan?”

“Hm.”

“Do you feel like you’ve accomplished all of your goals in life?”

“Plenty of ways to get even better.” Katsuki shrugs, studying the man curiously.

“Yeah, but, you’re a pro hero, and you work with All Might, I mean….that's half the nation's dream right there alone.”

“S not that big of a deal.” He tries to play off.

“Well it sounds amazing. I’d be excited to go to work every day. Not that I dislike my job now, it’s just…less exciting since I’ve been doing it for five years.”

No wonder he’s so good at it.

Katsuki redirects. “So if you could have another job then, what would it be?”

“Any job? Oh my gosh, my childhood dream was to be a hero and wear a fancy long cape like All Might does in his bronze age…or silver age!” Izuku geeks.

Katsuki laughs. “Nerd.”

“You asked.” He throws back with a smirk.

Katsuki doesn’t really think before he speaks. “Easy fix. Just apply to my agency.”

Izuku's expression drops, but not in the way he expects. A job offer so grand as working for one of Japan's top hero’s is undeniable, generally speaking. No one would turn down an opportunity like that, he was so sure of it. But Izuku’s mouth shuts tightly and he blinks a few times before looking down, like it’s a problem.

“What?” Katsuki asks, confused by his sudden melancholy.

“I…can't.”

“I'm inviting you, idiot.” He grumbles defensively.

“That's not what I mean, I-”

“Well what the hell do you mean then?”

“Kacchan, I'm quirkless.”

The air between them fogs, thickens as silence sets in once more.

“Yeah, not much of a conversation starter is it?” Izuku huffs, like it's funny, but Katsuki can tell it's not supposed to be. “I've been this way my whole life so, it doesn't bother me much now, and I still found a way to help people! But…I don't think I'll be able to join your hero agency…any agency for that matter.”

Katsuki is dead quiet, listening to Izuku intensely as the man explains.

“My mom told me that maybe I was a late bloomer. Some people don't get their quirks till way later in their childhood, it's just really uncommon. She held out hope for me, knowing how badly I wanted to be just like All Might when I got older but...” he trails off.

Fuck, it was a sad story. Katsuki reflected on his own quirk, how it had showed up day one with no issues, bigger and better than all the other kids in his class. He was so fucking proud of it. Everyone marveled over him, and he was popular his entire educational career from that point forward.

He didn’t know what being quirkless was even like, and couldn't remember his childhood before it showed up. Maybe because it was less than ordinary.

“Don't worry about it, okay? I'm really honored you want me to come work at your agency, it's like…the offer of a lifetime, you don't even understand. I've been tracking your agency for years now, and I never thought I'd be so lucky to meet the Dynamight himself. But…i'd rather help people here than be a secretary, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah.” Katsuki says solemnly, but he's still confused as fuck. If Izuku admired him so much, enough to be a fan for years, why not? What held him back?

“I also understand if you’d rather stop coming to me at the shop, too.” Izuku cuts in, out of nowhere. His voice is confident and strong, but it sounds forced as hell.

“Wait, what?” The sudden twist of the conversation confuses him even more.

Izuku looks back wearily at him. “Because I lied to you, acted like I wasn’t quirkless and…I know that probably changes your opinion about me.”

His mind blanks as he takes it like a knife to his chest.

“Why the hell would that matter?”

“I mean…you’ve made it kind of obvious over the years. The media posted one of your interviews that was done back in twenty two, you said that quirkless people are…weak, can't protect themselves. Something about not wanting to associate with losers…” He looks up into the sky, like he's trying to think about more examples and the blood rushes from Katsuki’s face as he realizes what Izuku is talking about.

He’s speechless as the memory washes through him, mortified that Izuku knew about that news segment at all, one that had aired years ago but was removed after he threatened to sue the media outlet that did it…back when his testosterone had peaked and he was hell bent on erasing his insecurities as a hero.

Yeah, he had said some messed up shit, and still does. But growing up helped him realize it wasn’t as easy as yelling your opinion to an entire globe and presuming with your day like normal. He can’t figure out what to say, how to defend his stupid mouth, and Izuku is speaking up again amidst his hesitance.

“But, I don't judge you for it! I’ve looked up to you this whole time, and you're an amazing hero. I just know where my place is and it's not…there.”

His heart beats heavy and strong against his rib cage, deep and harsh as he thinks, over and over again. He should say something, anything that even remarkably resembles an apology, but he can't. His mouth hangs open and all he can do is breath.

Then, something clicks.

“S’ that why you won't look at me?”

“I, ah…what?”

“You jerked me off not a week ago and you refused to look. Hell, even earlier you didn't. Is it because of what I said?” He wallows, his tone husky and low in shame.

“That has nothing to do with this.” Izuku defends with open hands.

“Sure as hell doesn't look like it to me. All that junk is from the past anyways and people can fucking change, okay? I don't give a shit if you're quirkless or not.”

“Nono, I'm not saying you haven't I just thought-”

“Thought what? You could grab a decent amount of cash by pretending to be interested? Just because I'm a pro?”

“Kacchan I-”

“This is so fucking confusing, you're like my damn secret admirer but it's a joke or something because you don't actually want to touch me. Did Spoonbill put you up to this??”

“Who?” Izuku asks, alarmed.

Katsuki scoffs, turning back towards the door and walking away. “Forget about it.”

Izuku is over him instantly, pinning him to the wall beside the slider abruplty with big determined eyes and a look of dominance on his face he can't shake, a hint of sadness reflecting inside them. Katsuki stares at him with his own wide eyes.

“Stop.” Izuku commands, and he’s quick to shut his mouth, the other looming so close to him he can feel uneven breaths against his chin. “Just…stop for a second.”

They both take a breath.

“You don't understand, Kacchan. That’s not it, that’s not it at all… I just don't think I could hold back if we…continued.” Katsuki watches in real time as Izuku’s face turns bright fucking red.

“You've been holding back on me? What, don’t think I can handle a little pain or something?” Katsuki fights back with a sneer and furrowed brows, the position making him feel vulnerable.

“No, Kacchan.” He urges, like it’s a desperate plea for him to relax. “I mean…I don't think I could hold myself back from-.”

“So…don't?” Katsuki cuts in confusion, and Izuku's face tenses, like he’s been punched in the chest and it suddenly becomes harder to breath. “I already gave you permission. I don’t know what the hell you’re so worried about.”

Katsuki was a grown ass man. He could take a quick and rough hand job. Maybe Izuku was one of those masochists who liked BDSM or something? He wouldn’t say no to that either, if it meant a few hard slaps and some name calling. Hell, he had paid for it.

Izuku looks at him in such a unique way, his bright eyes glossy in the reflection of city lights as they give him a deep and meaningful look, like it matters. “That’s not what I'm saying.”

“I don't think you even know what the hell you're saying.” Katsuki adds.

Izuku sighs.

Katsuki isn't shy about his body. He never once had an issue when using the locker room on campus, or the local onsen in Sendai and places up northern Japan when they attend various hero conferences. He knows he's full of it, full of himself rather, and he's proud of his physique. He had people swooning left and right, the attention fueling his capabilities and ego like a damn rocketship. He didn't care if the attention was from women or men, he never wanted it in a personal way.

But when he met Izuku? The green haired, emerald eyed man changed his entire chemistry. He was nervous, only for the first time. Afraid to finish too quickly, only for the first time. He was afraid of why Izuku refused to look at him, and that one lasted a lot longer than the first time.

That's when he thought that maybe, Izuku was different. Katsuki himself wasn't the issue. Izuku was shy, maybe he didn't look out of embarrassment. He was just trying to be polite, or maybe he was simply being respectful. A happy ending massage was taboo in probably every way, according to the internet, and maybe he thought Katsuki would rat him out for it.

“Katsuki.” Izuku calls, and his attention snaps back in full force, heart pounding. They're unbelievably close, so close he can see the quiet freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. There's a small faded indent under his right eye, like a scar. But it's all perfect, and gorgeous, even down to the way his lips part slightly wet and how his throat bobs when he intends to speak.

“I'm saying…I don’t…” he struggles.

“Spit it out Izuku.”

Izuku exhales heavily, whispering with low eyes, “I wouldn't be able to stop myself.”

But what the hell would that have to do with Izuku seeing him like that? What the hell does holding back have to do with anything? He was given fucking permission for christ sakes. He could handle tougher pushes to his shoulders, rougher rolls to his thighs. He could handle a quick and desperate hand. Hell, he would try his absolute best to practice holding back so he doesn’t cum so quick next time, if there is a next time. He’d even be fine with Izuku jerking himself off under the table while he does it, as kinky as it sounds.

He’d be fine with so much more than that, but he’d never admit it willingly because Izuku wasn’t interested in that.

Instead of elaborating, or fighting it, he just repeats himself, forcing the message down Izuku's throat.

“So, don’t.”

Izuku stares at him, eyes darting back and forth between his own. One slip and he watches them shift to his own lips. But the moment is gone quickly after that, as Izuku lowers his arms and walks back into the living room.

It leaves Katsuki a frazzled mess for the rest of the night. Izuku's entire mood had changed, and though he still acted content and grateful, there was a stiffness between them. Izuku insisted on using the couch, despite his aggressive offer for the bed instead.

He tries not to invade the man's space after that, only once slipping into the kitchen for some water sometime after two in the morning. Even then, all he could see were toes off the edge and the sound of faint snoring. Of fucking course he was a snorer.

Izuku leaves early the next morning, thanking Katsuki with an overly exaggerated bow despite his protests. He tried not to think about how cute Izuku's hair looked all fuffy and pillow tossed. He tried not to think about his naked figure as he walked past the bathroom and accidentally saw his muscled back through the crack in the doorway as he was getting ready for a shower.

He tried his damn best not to think about him later that morning at work, when he walks into a light pole after a mistaken curly green haired stranger catches his eye.

He tries so fucking hard, not to think about him when his dick hurts at the sheer restraint of his underwear when he finally gets home from work that night, pent up and irritated beyond belief.

He gives up when he finds Izuku's plain white t-shirt in his laundry bin.

✦

“Slow down Bakubro. You're moving twenty miles a second here.”

Katsuki huffs, pacing around his living room, eyes wandering to the scattered throw blanket and pillow left on his couch from the night before.

“I just don't fucking get it.”

“Repeat exactly what he said to you.” Kirishima asks, his voice static through the phone speaker.

“He said he didn't think he could hold back and I told him that I'm not made of fucking glass so he can go as hard as he wants, whatever that means-“

“Kats.”

“-hell, I'll take a fuckin blow job if he’s offering I don’t give a shit. If it's just business and that’s all I’ll ever get from him-“

“Katsuki.”

“What??” He barks into the phone.

“He's not talking about the massage.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Chapter Text

“Psst.” A quiet voice hisses from outside the cracked break room door. Izuku lifts his head, looking around for the sound.

“PSSST” It increases to a hiss, and he spots brown hair and eyes peeking out and half glaring at him.

“Oh! Hey Ochako what’s-”

“Get your ass out here right now there’s a walk in.” She continues in a squeaky high pitched voice. Unfortunately for Izuku, she sounds panicked, like there’s a situation that he’s been dubbed to resolve, or it could be as simple as someone hot came in and she’s trying to set him up…again.

“But it’s my break! You told us not to overw-“

“Screw what I said and hurry the hell up.”

“Okay, okay.” He sighs, setting his egg sandwich down on the small plastic table they had set up some months prior and getting up from his seat. She leaves swiftly, and he follows her as quick as he can.

“You are going to lose it, Izuku. Like really lose it.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” He raises his hands, confusion setting in as he sees an empty waiting room and no one at the front desk.

“The walk in, he’s all yours, and you’re going to bow down before me for the rest of your life after this so you’re welcome.” Her smile is huge, uncomfortable and unsettling to even himself, for once.

“I…I don’t understand, who is it?”

“If I tell you you’ll chicken out.”

His brows drop, because he realizes he absolutely knows this game and has played it before with her.

“What, you really think I’m going to believe another one of your jokes? Like…that one time you said Dynamight had walked passed the shop and I ran out with a camera and notebook like an idiot?”

“Yes.” She nods her head aggressively and he sighs.

“I appreciate the support Ochako, I really do.” By support, he’s referring to the business.

He grabs a spare hand towel, throwing it over his shoulder as he heads towards the back rooms. He can hear her squealing in the background, and it makes him chuckle. For whatever reason, he underestimates her. Call it a boy who cried wolf situation where the boy was Ochako and the wolf somehow always happened to be a pro hero knocking at their front door.

Of course she knew about his obsessions, and knew exactly how to make use of them, they'd been friends for years, best friends.

They did everything together, and she knew everything about him. His nerdy and irresistibly single lifestyle. He reminded her daily that he was happy with his life, and not one to disrupt the natural flow of things. Still, she tried to make it interesting, for him.

With a prepped smile, he puffs out his chest and walks into the room, shutting the door carefully behind himself before his normal introduction begins.

“Good evening! My name is Deku, I'll be your therapist to-.”

His entire body freezes in place.

His heart skips a beat, his jaw drops, and his eyes go so wide he half feels like they're going to break his skull.

It was unmistakable this time.

Nothing like the doubles or look alikes Ochako had tricked him with before. No, it was unmistakably the side profile of top pro hero Dynamight. His jawline carefully blended into soft lips, and his nose protruded sharply, like his brows were currently furrowed.

Izuku's hands slack, and the clipboard falls from his grasp to land on the epoxy floors with a clatter. But he doesn't even flinch, can’t breath, and now he's holding his fucking breath anyways because Dynamight is looking directly at him.

The Dynamight.

“Oh my god.” Izuku squeaks, utterly immobile and stuck in place for what feels like eternity as their eyes meet.

Dynamight's eyes are piercing red, like a crimson blood moon, and even though he's seen them plenty of times through a screen, it feels like the very first time ever because they are so red.

The hero stares back at him for a moment, and it looks like he's questioning Izuku's gaze, but then he drops it again with a less than amused notion.

“What, never seen a pro in person before, nerd?” He grumbles.

Something about the comment snaps him back to, maybe the sound of Dynamight's voice being a grave reminder of the situation, realizing how awkward he's probably making the appointment feel right now.

He was on the clock, working for fucks sake.

“S-Sorry, I'm sorry.” He stutters out, bending down to pick up the clipboard and pulling something out of his ass to say back. “I'm just…surprised! That's..that's all.”

Absolutely floored and suddenly very afraid of my effective massage therapist skills, his mind begs him to add.

Izuku grooms his robe as he stands back up, trying to fix his appearance and cleaning his throat.

“I just..um, have a consent form for you to sign h-here.” He tries, handing the clipboard to Dynamight on an outstretched arm, watching in shock as his own extends to take it, as if he wasn’t supposed to. As if he was supposed to be a projection, or an illusion.

Focus, Izuku. He pressures himself, trying his best to stay on track and provide his usual services to such an unusual guest. He had seen pro hero’s before, the blonde one even came regularly, and pro hero Hawks was seen around too. But this? He was truly floored.

“Mind if I ask…how um, how did you hear of us?” He follows the prompts, trying to stay on track.

“A friend.” Dynamight grumbles, handing the clipboard back only moments later, and Izuku questions if he had even read it.

“Well I'm very glad to hear it! Small businesses like us don't often get attention from, you know, pro heros.” He shuts his mouth quickly after, not knowing if that was the right thing to say.

Hell, what was he doing? This wasn’t a date, and it wasn’t personal. Why would he need to rationalize his work, even if Dynamight was a new client.

Dynamight nods towards him, and somehow, he pulls out a genuine smile in return. And it’s not a creepy hi im literally obsessed with you one, thank god.

“Alright, we can get started now if you're ready?”

He finds the interaction isn’t as scary as he thought it would be. Dynamight is less…explosive in person, off the screen. Everyone knows he is the only pro to ever fall in ranking due to anger issues. But he’s speaking again and Izuku cuts the wiring to any internal thought.

“I'm uh, not really sure how this works.” The hero admits, and Izuku shakes his head, keeping his smile on display while wondering how the hell that’s even possible. He assumed Dynamight at least had experience with a private massage therapist, many of them already did by the time they go pro.

“Oh that's no problem! If you'll start by…laying face down on the table here I can feel out, um, find your problem spots. Then I'll have you remove as much of your clothing as you feel comfortable with…oh my god oh my god oh my god, his brain screeches when he realizes he'd completely forgotten about the massage part of his job.

“…but don't worry, I can work around anything you'd like to keep on.” He recites the lines like it's only the fourth time he's ever said it, the nerves in his stomach still flapping around.

But Dynamight nods again, and silence fills the room. Izuku waits, smile still clinging to his shaking cheeks as he watches the man move. And oh boy does he watch in awe as Dynamight stands, broad muscles on full, mouth watering display as he moves to sit on the table. He has to center himself again, almost forgetting to put away the consent form and actually doing his damn job oh my god Izuku get with the program!

He runs through the basics, immediately snuffing out the places Dynamight probably overworks on the daily, trying his best to be gentle as the man flinches and shifts uncomfortably against his hands. But he continues to remind himself that he shouldn't be treating the pro any differently than his other guests, trying to make small talk and discuss a treatment plan. Some of Dynamight's iconic attitude starts to show through with the pain, but if anything it triggers the competitive side of his brain that wants to help the man more.

He was strong, he could take it.

The really hard part comes when Izuku walks back into the room and sees his bare skin for the first time. He's probably one of the few who has actually seen him so nude, and it makes his heart pound out of his chest. Dynamight’s skin is so pale, and his upper thighs are thick but his waist curves so perfectly somehow. His figure is even sexier here than in that bathing suit cover deal he took with the magazine companies last year. Izuku takes a deep breath and wills his body not react to the curve of his ass, the way that too falls smoothly into his hips and back.

He wills his head not to fog and the overwhelming heat not to sink too low as he drools over Dynamight’s hourglass figure.

He wills his hands not to shake as he rubs deep into Dynamight's shoulders and down his back and he almost passes out when he gets to put his hands on those smooth pale thighs because he's only ever dreamt about it like a million times.

Izuku notices a few things though. Dynamight's got a lot of scars. They're all rather small, but they're visible as he tugs and prods at the other man's skin. He subconsciously runs his hands above each one as he moves, careful not to get too close and alert him of straying hands. As a pro hero enthusiast, knowing this kind of stuff was like gold. As a physical therapist, it was good to know where problem spots might be, or become. He also smelt strongly of sugar but...as if it was burnt. A sweet but strong caramel like smell that gets stronger as he moves around the pro's body, luring Izuku in with each inhale.

But he was careful not to linger, careful not to say anything too damning. He'd banish himself from the whole god damn city if Dynamight found out he was a super fan.

But he’s thankful to fall into a natural rhythm after a few minutes, prioritizing the hero’s pain rather than his identity. He presses into the soft underside of Dynamight’s shoulder and receives a particularly hard spasm, one that was harder than the rest so far, and he quickly turns to comfort.

“Easy, easy…” He sings, making sure his voice goes slow and soothing in praise rather than scolding or harsh. He’s not sure if Dynamight likes that sort of thing, but his muscles go slack and he exhales out of his nose, a tell-tale sign he was good with praise.

“Deep breaths.” He continues, watching the man settle as he massages into the same spot that had pained him only moments ago.

So, Dynamight likes being praised, he checks off on his list.

They finish with the general massage, and Izuku suddenly feels compelled to offer more. A full body massage was usually performed at an extra charge, but by the way Dynamight was stretching out his arms, he could tell they could use some work.

He can feel eyes on him while he does it too, his focus wavering as he finally looks up and comes face to face with the pro he’s crushed on for years. His skin looks slightly dry, like he’s been out in the sun, but it’s still perfect, and so was everything else. His heart rate starts to pick up again, and he has to awkwardly smile and look down so as to not lose his shit a third time.

By the end of it, he walks out of the room dazed and a half. He barely remembers what he did that morning, what underwear he picked out, what he ate…

“So???” Ochako finally asks as he comes up to the front counter. Her grin is still just as bright, and it makes him rethink everything again.

“Oh my god.” Izuku wavers, knees wobbling as he makes his way to a chair in the empty waiting room, unable to stand anymore.

“How absolutely wild was that! Out of all the people that show up, it was actually him.”

“Pretty wild…” Izuku mutters. “How am I supposed to focus on other clients after….that.”

“Speaking of, how was that.” She raises her brows with a smirk.

“Fine.”

“Izuku.”

“He's never gonna come back.” He whines, his body folding in on itself as he wallows. His service had been subpar at best, distracted by blonde spiky hair and toned muscles. He’s pretty sure he even fucked up a few very common maneuvers. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with it if the man woke up sore…not like he’s a personal assistant or something. He just won’t come back.

“Ohh c'mon, give yourself some credit babe. You're one of our top employees and people love you.”

He whimpers again, like a dog, followed by another sigh.

“But…I gotta know….”

“Huh.”

The brunette looks around before leaning over the counter and whispering, “Is it big?”

“Ochako!” He jumps, cheeks turning bright red.

“What!! I'm just curious. You know, Himiko said there's a statistic thing you can find online that guesses pro hero-”

“He kept his undergarments on so I didn't see anything!! And I really only did his back.” Izuku rushes.

“Only his back?”

“He seemed….sensitive, nervous, I don't know… I didn't want to overwhelm him.”

“Did ya sweet talk him at least a little?”

“Maybe a little…” Izuku admits.

“Oh, honey.” She snorts. “He’ll be back.”

And she was right.

He does come back.

And Izuku feels like he's going to melt into the earth when Dynamight asks him what a happy ending massage is. Izuku half expected that it was a joke, or like he was supposed to pretend that it wasn’t a real thing. He’d never admit to doing something like that…if people ask….the pay is always great on top of his normal income though. It was just business, nothing more.

And then he tells Izuku his real name. Something probably few people know about since privacy laws tightened some decades ago.

Katsuki Bakugou.

If touching him wasn't already a huge upgrade, earning his trust sent Izuku into a whirlwind of confusion.

So he pushes it a little. He starts to relax, toying around with the pro like they're in a budding new friendship, or like old friends reconnecting.

He creates the nickname Kacchan as a joke, but Dynamight…Katsuki, keeps it.

He's amazed at how their dynamics just sync together, and despite his harshness, Izuku knows how to handle it better than ever. He toys with that a bit too, edging the side of flirting and friendliness, unsure if Katsuki could tell the difference.

But he can already see the writing on the walls. The way they look at each other, the weary commitment, everything up until that point.

Up to the point when his control started to slip.

His hands start to wander, his mind pushes him to try, just a bit further…just a bit farther.

Katsuki keeps coming back. He even comes back in his bloodied uniform, and Izuku lends him clothing in return. He hoped they didn’t smell too much or weird, despite doing his laundry only days ago. And when he sees Katsuki have a meltdown for the first time in person? He knows exactly how to help as he watches the man pace back and forth inside his small apartment studio. Something he’d also done.

“Kacchan, you're getting too worked up about th-”

“I'm not getting worked up, you're the one talking about private crap like I'm just some damn coworker over brunch and you probably do this for everyone else too!” He watches Dynamight’s chest start to rise and fall with his words, faster and faster. His eyes scatter around the room frantically.

“Hey...” He calls in a low tone, just enough to be stern.

Katsuki freezes, his head turning back up to look at Izuku as he walks towards the man.

“...Hey.” He repeats, softer now and grounding.

He places his hand on Dynamight’s arm, focusing on the way their eyes glue to each other. Focusing on how their red hue glows against the city lights.

“I've never had anyone other than Ochako up here before. I don't do this for everyone else. Breath, Katsuki.”

He doesn’t.

“Breath.” He instructs again, almost in a plea and Katsuki exhales finally.

“That's it.” He praises softly, and it’s unmistakable the way his demeanor changes. His eyes fall to the man’s lips slowly, because they’re so close now that he could…

Katsuki pushes away, cursing a few times, and completely moving on from the subject. Izuku realizes he was slipping, about to move in closer even when nothing warranted their lips touching. That wasn’t what this was about. It couldn’t be…not with him.

But in an effort to make things less awkward and more comfortable for the big bad great explosion murder god Dynamight, he also gives the man his name. He does so in a friendly way, as he reminds himself, because it couldn’t be anything more.

That’s what he thinks, until the next time they’re in room 7 together.

He walks in to see Katsuki wearing the most unmistakably short boxer briefs he’s ever seen. They couldn't even constitute as underwear. Izuku himself definitely wouldn’t be caught wearing something like that. They’d rip and his dick would fall out in seconds. His balls probably wouldn’t even fit, and that’s not necessarily a flex. But Katsuki's perfect little waist and wide hips spread the fabric nicely around his lower back, leaving out the creases of his full ass on display.

His control slips even more as he caresses the man’s skin, all too aware of what he was doing, what he was entertaining…too far gone in the way his hips rolled as he rubbed his inner thighs, the skin of his sides.

The begging makes him unbelievably hard, the way Katsuki’s body shutters and rolls and the moans that slip out of his throat all intoxicate him. It doesn’t help that he was already pent up and unable to take care of it before the day started because he overslept. It was miserable by the time Katsuki flipped over, but he chased the feeling as his own dick pulsed at the sight.

And that’s his limit.

The minute Katsuki’s dick falls free from those tiny intentionally short shorts, he can’t look anymore. He can’t look because his body is shaking, cock pulsing every second with the warmth of Katsuki in his palm. Leaking when he feels the wetness pooling around the head of the hero’s own length.

All because of him.

He strokes Katsuki like he knows how, twisting at the top, thumb running down the center line as he moves back and forth. Even as the gorgeous blonde man begs, and looks at him with frazzled concerned eyes, he doesn’t stop…so caught up in the overwhelmed and stimulated sight in front of him, at the mercy of his hands, that he makes pro hero Dynamight come in under five minutes.

It’s the quickest he’s ever seen, and he relishes in the blissed out, blushed out look on Katsuki’s face as Izuku holds him, cum flowing freely onto his hand and knuckles.

He wonders what Katsuki would look like after a blow job, wonders if he comes harder while getting fucked instead. Wonders if any man has ever even fucked him right.

But Katsuki’s orgasm is quick to disappear after this, Izuku’s mind returning to the shop and quickly switching gears to something a bit more jarring when Katsuki offers him a new job. His brain short circuits at the idea of being his personal therapist, but he knows he couldn’t survive something like that. He could barely even look at Katsuki without primal instincts taking over and pulling out his own cock like some animal driven savage in rut.

If he couldn’t control it then, he definitely couldn’t control it now. And Katsuki wasn’t here for that. He probably just didn’t get this kind of…attention very often.

“You're overthinking things again Kacchan.”

Katsuki freezes in front of him, giving Izuku that same uneasy glance, like he was unsure what he was referring to.

“I offered you a service, you paid, it's no big deal, okay?” He reassures, hoping the hero wouldn’t feel so guilty or embarrassed from a professional indulgence.

“It's just business.”

Izuku can't even make it to his bed before he’s got his pants down that night. He comes twice, into his own hand, the same hand that still smelled vaguely of Katsuki’s own. His mind reeled with the feeling of Katsuki’s cock, pulsing and leaking and gorgeously fucking full. The warmth of his own palm and fingers wasn’t enough to stimulate what it would feel like to be inside him, so he shuffles through a side table drawer for something of the occasion and comes in that too. It’s miserable, so fucking hot, and all at once embarrassing as hell.

He knew it was just part of the job, and Katsuki was there for said job only. There would be no sex of any sorts. Izuku knew better than to think feelings were allowed in a no strings attached environment.

Until he comes face to face with a very nude pro hero Dynamight, who has stretched himself out on the massage table so far that his balls sit swollen from the pressure against the back of his thighs, right below the only thing Izuku has been able to think about for days. He’s instantly hard, instantly a hot mess, and using everything in his power to stop himself from jumping the man right there. He knew Katsuki couldn’t handle that, not by the way his small hole sits pretty inbetween his pale skin, pink andfuck.

He’s desperate for excuses, whipping his whole body around to face the door and to shove his dick down with the strength of All Might’s signature Delaware smash.

“You haven’t…um, shit… you haven't even… um, paid yet for something like this…eh…yet.” He tries in a light hearted laugh, but Katsuki is quick to respond.

“On the table.”

Izuku assumes it’s probably money.

“O-oh okay.” He stutters, acting like it’s not a big deal. “W-well…I'll leave you some privacy if you-”

“Quit making excuses and get the hell over here.” Katsuki growls, and he starts to slip.

“I….Kacchan” Izuku whines, openly and pathetic as his feet dare him to turn around. Dare him to grasp the soft plush skin and muscle of Katsuki’s thighs and shove his tongue inside him, prep him to take more than what he has to give, everything, until he’s a whining mess of a bottom and begging for it anyways.

Izuku knows that’s the dynamic, sees straight through his tough hero demeanor, and knows he’d cave under the body of another, in favor of pleasure he rarely allows himself.

He tries to reason with him next.

“Kacchan we really shouldn't be d-”

“It’s just business, isn’t it?” Katsuki plays the comment off coolly, similar to how he had said it last time. “No big fuckin’ deal.”

If he wasn’t confused before, how he’s really confused. One minute he wants more, then the next he calls it business , but not in the way Izuku meant it. There’s something different about his tone, adamant in a way that meant jealousy, or snide remarks that didn’t actually mean it was just business.

The fire alarm saves him and his hard on, quickly jumping him into action and covering Katsuki with his robe as he leaves the room, grateful for the fresh air.

And then he ends up in Katsuki’s apartment, staring up at the ceiling at nothing in particular around three in the morning, after another invite to the hero’s agency.

He had turned down the only offer he’d ever actually wanted, and it stung.

He was quirkless. The kind of quirkless that doesn’t belong in a hero agency, so he had been told all his life. But after another close call of lips and soft breaths, he was even more fearful of losing control, and Katsuki had made it clear he wasn’t even thinking about it in a sexual way, very clearly focused on the services he was receiving rather than emotions or the more intimate side of things.

“You've been holding back on me? What, don’t think I can handle a little pain or something?”

Izuku wanted to yell, wanted to tell him he doesn’t get it and wasn’t listening, that he won’t be able to stop himself from taking everything he wants but clearly shouldn’t have.

“So, don’t.”

Every moment they shared together had become harder and harder, every soft brush to Katsuki’s skin was irreversible. He had held up his cool collected facade for as long as possible despite his biggest mistake being touching him in the first place. But something in his mind couldn’t quite give it up…not yet at least. Maybe that’s why he leaves a shirt behind in Katsuki’s laundry basket. Maybe that’s why he cracks the door to the bathroom, hoping to see a shadow pass by.

He leaves early that morning, on maybe an hour of sleep, not waiting around and hoping he could set his mind straight for once that day.

“Good morning cutie.” Ochako greets him brightly when he gets back to work.

“Morning!” He replies, equally as cheery.

“Looks like you got some good sleep today.”

“Better than the night before at least.” He smiles shyly at her, lying through his teeth.

“Oooo sleepover with Dynamight, how'd that go?”

“Um…fine, I guess.”

“Fine?? That's it?? You're not gonna tell me anything else?”

“Nothing really happened…we talked for a bit and went to sleep. I was only there for the late evening anyways.” He moves to grab one of the clean and unclaimed robes off it's home hook but Ochako stops him.

“You won't be needing that today.”

He looks back at her with a frown, but she's got a devious grin on her face that usually means something insane.

“But my appointments-”

“You only have one, and it's a special request all day session.”

He gawks at her. “All day??”

“Not massaging, silly. All day at Dynamight's agency!”

His mouth drops again, and at this point his jaw is probably going slack in tension by how many times it's happened recently.

“They paid double the price too, phew, how could I say no?”

“Wait…seriously???” He questions, and she laughs.

“Yes! Seriously! And they're expecting you in an hour so get moving!” She pushes him off towards the door and he stumbles through it, backpack clutched tightly to his shoulders.

It doesn't really hit him until his GPS shows a block away from the agency. He's shocked at how close it is to Hurt and Comfort, but he's even more shocked when he's looking up at a tall silver lined sky scraped that disappeared into the clouds.

“Wow.” He murmurs to himself, standing idly amidst a crowd of busy passerbys. He still couldn't believe it, suddenly doubting if Ochako was actually telling him the full story. Maybe he didn't actually send out an invitation to Izuku specifically, maybe Ochako had forced him into it…

“Need something?” A low voice catches his attention, and he realizes he's at the main entrance already.

“Oh um…I'm here on an invitation from…Ka- Dynamight?”

“Name?” The bodyguard asks.

“Izuku Midoriya.”

“Not seein’ that one, kid.”

Fuck, maybe Ochako really was pulling his tail. His ears started to heat as he realized how silly it must look for him to be standing there and trying to get clearance into the building owned by one of the top agencies in all of Japan.

He does wonder though…

“Um…what about, Deku?”

“Ah yep. Right here. Go ahead.”

Something about the use of his work name made him feel warm. It was like respect, mutual trust not to unconceal each other's identities.

And it made him fucking grin.

The agencie is huge, the lobby itself split into three separate parts, even hosting a coffee shop on his left. He admires it, second to admiring the large wall scroll display of Katsuki’s hero suit.

“Amazing isn’t it?” A voice startles him, and he jumps further at the site of vaguely familiar bright green hair.

“Wait…aren’t you pro hero Burnin?!” He marvels as she winks in confirmation.

“I’m flattered you’d recognize a low life sidekick as myself.” She frowns,

“Oh my gosh, no you’re amazing! But…I thought you worked at Endeavors agency?”

“I did, before Dynamight stole me away. Which, by the way…he mentioned a trainee. Is that you?”

“I think so?” He smiles anxiously, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack as she leads them to a set of elevators.

“Great! I’ll take you up to him.”

As if the walk inside wasn’t nerve wracking, standing in front of a large glass office space labeled Dynamight was. But as much as he was anxious, something burned inside him, an excitement he could explain from years ago. A kind of anticipation he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, seeing the busy halls and unique suits to fit everyone's extraordinary talents and quirks. He could name quite a few of them, his smile permanent as Burnin gave him the rundown of Katsuki’s brash behavior like he wasn’t well aware.

She waves him goodbye with a ‘scream if you need help’ before he turns towards the door again. But as he grabs the handle, it swings open in the opposite direction instead and a familiar face stands before him.

“Deku.” Katsuki's voice sounds relieved, and he can’t help but smile at him too.

“Hi Kacchan.”

“Kacchan?” A voice asks from behind them as someone walks by.

“Ah, I mean…Dynamight! I was just thinking of someone else…or something…” he laughs awkwardly in a panic, and the hero raises a brow in question, the faint hint of a smirk on his cheek.

“Took ya long enough, nerd.” Katsuki greets, beckoning him inside. His office is lined in windows, the sun shining brightly over a large dark wood desk, papers meticulously placed around a computer monitor. It's surprisingly neat, and smells slightly of burnt caramel.

“Thank you for um, inviting me. This place is amazing…you’ve got a lot of great heroes working here too.”

Katsuki shrugs, “They’re all dead beats.”

Izuku frowns.

“Hoping I could get a few new trainees onboard to help with the slack.”

Izuku pauses, his bright demeanor becoming weary as Katsuki looks at him intently.

“But…Kacchan I don’t…I’m not licensed. I don’t even have a…” he cuts off, unsure why he’d even suggest something like that. How could he have forgotten something so important.

“And?”

“What?”

“I told you I don’t give a shit, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but-“

Katsuki pulls a black garment bag out of a closet next to his desk, and gives Izuku a quick smirk before unzipping it. “Quit whining and put this on then.”

Chapter Text

“Well?”

Katsuki asks as soon as Izuku emerges from a thick plume of violet tinted smoke. It almost looks like he’s about to cry.

“It’s…Kacchan, it’s amazing!! Just…wow, I- tha-“

“Quit it with the thanks yous already.” He grumbles, watching the man shut his mouth and go back to gawking at the high tech suit now wrapped snugly around his body.

“So, all of these abilities…mimic quirks?”

“More or less. The one you just used is called smokescreen, a defensive move. It lowers your opponents visibility, but yours too, so be careful you know exactly what you’re doing before you use it. The effects last at least three minutes.”

Izuku nods incessantly, listening to Katsuki's explanation eagerly.

“Now press this one.” Katsuki points to a level release button at the palm of his left glove, and he’s quick to follow orders, releasing a cable like extension from the underside of the gauntlet. Izuku jumps back as it launches, falling short of any structures or major street construction. Not real ones, of course, but the simulation they were in depicted an ordinary urban scene. Tall buildings and roadways you’d see in any major city.

“Woah!!”

“That one’s called black whip. You can use it as a grappling hook, but I’ve seen it used to restrain villains too.”

Izuku presses it again, this time letting the dark wiring shoot out into a nearby wall, its sharp clasp hooking into the scarred brick.

“If you master those, I think we can move on to flight.” He says plainly.

Izuku whips his head back over, giving Katsuki a wide eyed glare that should run sheer panic through his bones. “It can…fly?”

“The hell kinda hero suit would it be if it couldn’t fly, of course it can fucking fly.”

Izuku grins like a maniac. As an All Might fan himself, he’s sure it’s a real kicker of an ability to have, so he gets the excitement.

“Are these gauntlets like your own?” Izuku rolls his arms, examining the components clasped to each wrist.

“Exactly like mine, minus the size.” Katsuki confirms proudly.

The sparkles in Izuku’s eyes shimmer brightly, and Katsuki’s rolling his eyes because god damnit, now they really were gonna be there all day.

“Look, lunch is in five minutes. You coming, or ya gonna stay here?”

“I’ll come!” Izuku drops the gloved hand to his side, walking back over to Katsuki, and he has to look away to avoid smirking at the gawdy smile the green haired man wears.

The morning consisted of mostly meetings, unfortunately. As a hero agency they work 7 days a week, and every day is as busy as the last. It just slows down a bit on second and third. He’s lucky enough that his new ‘trainee’ needs time to get used to the suit, so he can steal them both away to do something actually entertaining. Of course, Izuku isn’t technically a trainee, it’s just what he’s telling everyone, keeping the rest private. It was a short term experiment, rather, because the man’s whole dream in life was to be a hero and hell if Katsuki wasn’t going to give him that chance. Maybe it’ll produce a worthy opponent, for once. Nothing easy and predictable like Shouto, the man always using the same moves and pissing him off with his stupid flowy hair.

Izuku had potential, he could see it in those alluring emerald eyes, radiant and excited, like a kid who’s just realized they can ride a bike. But he’s weary, because Izuku still had time to fall. He wasn’t worried, but with everything being so new, he couldn’t trust that everything would be as easy as a silly bike. Hell, he could ride one since he could walk on two legs. Others? Still nothing.

Those were the real extras, not quirkless people. Izuku had the drive half his team couldn’t even produce, subpar to a mediocre stage performance at best when they were out stopping villains.

Truthfully, he was kind of bored.

“C'mon, let’s-“

“Dynamight? They need you for an assist at the Cainz on 3rd.”

“Fuck.” He grumbles, pulling his watch up to his face to see the message scrolled along the screen. “Fine.” He sighs back into it.

“Gimme a second, okay? I gotta go fix some shit.” He calls back at Izuku.

“Can I come?” The greenette asks brightly.

“Not yet, just…stay here and practice.” He commands, ignoring the way Izuku’s ears droop like a puppy.

“Oi, extra.” He shouts down the way, and one of his sidekicks stops at the small entrance to the training room. “Keep an eye on him.”

“Sure!” She agrees happily, clearly unphased by his sudden demand. He doesn’t care one way or the other.

Katsuki leaves with the intention of a level one assist, something quick and compliant. What he gets there it’s a level fucking four and a half, the thief wrapped in some sort of tornado from a wind quirk by the time he arrives, a few police officers attempting a sad rope restraint that snaps under the pressure easily. Black whip would’ve come in handy, he curses.

“The hell??”

“Dude, what took you so long?” Burnin runs up to him, holding onto what looks like stolen merchandise.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me it was a code red!” He barks back, irritated.

“We didn’t even know he could do this till a second ago!” She defends, hand thrown up into the air and pointed at the very obvious mess.

He groans, focusing back on the villain at the center of attention and his smug little face as another rope snaps free.

“Just give me a second.” Katsuki steps into the fray, calculating the motion and speed before bracing into the cyclone of wind and debris. His usual moves weren’t equipped for such a small area, barricaded by police vehicles and the back of a department store.

Using the heat from his hands, he catches the wind, gusts of air heating into his palms.

“If he’s not gonna calm the hell down I’m gonna smoke em out!” Katsuki announces to no one in particular, as his hands light up bright red and orange and white. He waits, bracing with two firmly planted boots and crouched knees as the tornado starts to light up in a bright orange, smoke filling the air inside its chamber.

“Cmon idiot…I don’t got all day!” He barks, pushing more heat into the ripples and pattern of dark cloudy air.

Eventually, something slips, and the man inside falls to his knees. Katsuki can’t make out anything he’s saying, but the heat is enough of a distraction for him to sneak in and pin the man down.

“Stay the fuck down.” He growls lowly, waiting as the clouds start to dissipate and cops swarm.

“Nice one.” Burnin winks at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Easy one.” He corrects.

“Where’s Deku?” She asks when he finally gets to release the man and watch him get walked to an ambulance in handcuffs.

“Ground Gamma. Too soon for him to be out here.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true.” She grins at him, raising a brow to insinuate she knows more than him.

“Like hell you’d know.” He gives her an unamused look, his arms crossed.

“Look, the kids got spirit. I was the one who checked him in, and you should’ve heard the way he could talk an ear off about his quirk obsessions.”

“Ya think I don’t know that?” Katsuki raises a brow.

He thinks it’s enough to keep her quiet, but instead she gives him a suspicious look.

Shit

“How’d you find him, anyways?”

Katsuki freezes up, watching as the scene starts to clear and a few people smile and wave to them goodbye. He doesn’t wave back, clearly puzzled at the easy question.

“Just did.”

“Just a coincidence then? Hmm…lots of fish in the sea…what do you use, Grindr?”

“Shut up I do not.”

“Chill Dynamight, I was just asking.” She rolls her eyes with a small giggle and a shake of the head. “We’re grabbing lunch, wanna come?”

“Nah.” He replies, turning and walking back towards the agency despite her protests.

“We already got Deku’s order, don’t worry! Bubble girl sent it in chat. We can bring it back to them?”

He stops with a huff.

“Fine…”

Lunch is quick, thankfully, and within the hour he’s walking back into Ground Gamma with a couple to go boxes.

Except, the room is different this time, its massive space left largely in disarray. He scans the ground, holes and chunks of gravel littering the area. It’s quiet, for a second, before an ear piercing blast jolts his eyes up into the fake skyline.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either.” Bubble Girl walks up to him, and he hasn’t got the interest to turn and look at her, in favor of keeping his eyes glued to the man in the air.

Izuku is swinging, blasting around like some comic book character, the glove on his right arm mimicking one of Katsuki’s nitroglycerin explosions as he hits another standup target down, shooting over to the next building with the pump of his soles.

Katsuki’s eyes go wide, watching, waiting.

“Impressive, isn’t it.” She whispers, clearly aware of him staring.

“Shut up.” He mutters.

“Oh! Dynamight!” Izuku calls with a wave, and he has to mute a hitched breath. The gawky smile on his face must be killing his cheeks.

“How was the mission??”

“Annoying.”

“You’re doing amazing Deku!” Bubble Girl praises, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she smiles at him.

“Thanks!! I used my legs to push off the ground for greater momentum, the way you showed me with your quirk!”

Here we go, Katsuki thinks as the massage therapist starts to ramble.

“Oi, Deku.” He interrupts the two, holding up the bags. “Lunch.”

“Oh, okay!” He nods, saying goodbye to the sidekick and running over to the benches along the outskirts of the training room.

“This has been so much fun Kacchan, it feels like I’ve actually got a quirk! Or…I few I guess.” He laughs shyly.

“Don’t even need me to train you do I?”

“What? Oh, Nono I still want…I’d like it if you’d…um.” His struggles, making Katsuki smirk.

“I do, need you…please?” He adds, those puppy dog eyes coming back out again. Katsuki really does enjoy it.

“Maybe we can sneak off later, outside.”

Izuku’s eyes light up, almost as big as his cheeks, his grip on the half devoured egg sandwich almost killing the poor thing completely.

“Really?!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

“Sorry…” He mumbles, chewing rapidly.

“Besides, still moves you haven’t used yet.”

Izuku nods. “I’d really love to fly…like you.”

Katsuki looks at him, and Izuku’s smile is softer now, but it’s tentative and caring. It makes him feel like a sap but at least there’s no one around to see it.

“Doubt you’ll ever beat me, nerd.”

“I didn’t say that, but…that doesn’t mean I can’t try, right?”

Katsuki huffs, entertained. “Yeah yeah, we’ll see about that.”

Izuku grins. “Does that mean I get to come back?”

“Read the room.” He shoots back, and watches Izuku swing his legs and squeal like a middle schooler. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all by the display, but something about his confidence was…attractive.

The rest of the day is debatably worse than the morning. He ends up with three more assists, one of which he drags Izuku into because they get virtually no time to ‘sneak off’ like Katsuki suggested. But Izuku insists it’s the coolest thing he’s ever gotten to see, so at least it amounted to something.

By the time the agency goes into on-call, he’s got another ginormous stack of papers weighing his desk down. He stares at it miserably as his office door creaks open, letting his heavy gauntlets way him down as he drags himself inside.

He drops his gear off to the side before slouching down into his chair, a hand rubbing his temple.

It wasn’t a bad day, and he got to spend it with Izuku so why would he complain? But work and entertaining the massage therapist was maybe a bit more work than his normal load. All Might would always tell him that work makes the day go by quicker, but the more work he had the longer it took to get all the written parts done anyways.

Halfway through an hour he has to raise his desk and stand so his circulation won’t get cut off and kill his legs.

There’s a knock on his door as he’s midway through the second form of the night, and he's relieved when it’s Izuku who sneaks in with a small bow rather than some extra. He had told the man to change back into his regular clothes, the casual look catching his eye.

“Is it okay if I hang out for a few?”

“Don’t gotta ask me.” Katsuki shrugs, his eyes failing to act interested as he responds with an aggressive signature at the bottom of his report.

He steals a glance as Izuku picks up the bag that originally held his suit, carefully putting the large set of fabrics and mechanical parts back inside. He bends over, and Katsuki watches the muscles of his shoulders and arms as they stretch out. Despite their similarity in height, Izuku really is bigger than him, wider in more ways than one, and probably bigger down there too. He can’t help the thought as it passes in his mind, but he tears his head out of it as quickly as he could concentrate on the third packet of yellow paper in front of him.

He hears Izuku shuffle around, but doesn’t dare show off the blush dawning his cheeks as the man gets closer, keeping his head low…until the ink in his pen runs out and he can’t scribble enough to finish, so he chucks it and picks out another with a huff, his head tilted into his hand.

“You look stressed, Dynamight.” Izuku calls softly, placing the suit back into its designated keepsafe. Katsuki looks up briefly, noticing the way he handles it so carefully, like it was a gift made specifically for him and at the expense of another. But his eyes fall back to the report on his desk as Izuku turns towards him again.

Katsuki just grumbles, annoyed that nothing he could say would get things done quicker. Writing reports was unique. Nothing like getting someone to do your homework in secondary school with a bit of bribery.

“I can help with that, you know.” Izuku tries again, his voice closer to Katsuki now, but he keeps his gaze low.

“What, the reports? I can do them on my own, go home, Izuku.” It’s not supposed to sound rude, but the silence that fills the room leaves the air heavy. He exhales out his nose, the report in front of him starting to make his head pulse and irritate his eyes. He’s never been good at switching from stressed to nice, and he’s about to apologize.

But then he feels Izuku’s presence, and before he can turn around he feels soft pressure along his arms.

“I'm not talking about the reports.”

Hands rest on top of his hunched shoulders now, squeezing casually like he's expected to flinch or move away. Naturally, he falls back, allowing the man above him to knead the muscles there. His neck, especially sore, stretches to the side.

Katsuki thinks this is Izuku’s way of thanking him for the opportunity, despite already verbally saying so plenty of times throughout the day.

So he lets him, having half the mind to convince himself it’s what he needs too. Besides, he’s never gotten a shoulder massage before, and the feeling eases tension along his neck wonderfully.

But this, especially, is new. He’s not paying for it, and they’re not at Hurt and Comfort for him to justify it as a business transaction.

It’s intentional.

Izuku steps closer, his body going flush to Katsuki’s own, entertaining a growing warmth between the two of them as he starts to forget all about the report in front of him.

“Don’t see how this is supposed to help me, nerd.” He only half grumbles, clearly not displeased by it.

Just questioning.

“Just let me take care of you, Kacchan. You were amazing out there today.”

The compliment hits him just right, a tugging sensation deep in his abdomen that causes him to shift.

“Did so good.” Izuku’s breath whispers against his ear, a particularly deep push of thumbs into the back of his neck causing Katsuki to exhale forcefully.

He half expects to wake up slumped over, drooling on his desk. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s fallen asleep in the office, and the praise is just too good.

Izuku’s body feels too good.

“Yeah well, I always do good.” He rebuttals.

“I can believe that...” Izuku humors him in a soft, inviting tone. His hands start to roll off his shoulders, squeezing down the muscles of his biceps and fuck it feels good, Katsuki’s sore and shaky arms praising the skill of the man behind him.

“…but I think you should relax now.” He urges, moving back to the tops of his shoulders, this time letting the heels of his palms press down Katsuki’s back.

Eventually, he gives up, muttering a curse under his breath that isn’t inherently sexual but definitely sends a hint to Izuku. His hands continue down to his waist, curving slightly after they pass his hips to rub against the front of his thighs.

Katsuki knows where this is going, his eyes darting from each corner of the room as if to make sure no one was around, not that he cares. It’s his office at his agency after all. At least the glass is frosted enough to hide their figures in the dimly lit office. He doesn’t even have the energy to care that he probably smells like a whole day's worth of sweat, save for the scented deodorant he wears.

“I know what this is, idiot.”

“I know.” Izuku murmurs, their bodies again flush, and this time Katsuki can feel a distinct pressure into his rear, and it makes his ears go red. “I’m doing this to help you…if you’ll let me.”

Always with the damn consent, he curses, wishing Izuku would just make the choice for him, not give him an option. But, he straightens up, committed to staying poised and not giving into the feeling of pleasure blooming in his groin.

“Do what you want.” He passes, taking his pen to the paper again and proceeding with his name and date at the top. He almost thinks Izuku believes the display, until a palm slinks heavy against his cock.

Despite the dense material of his suit, he shutters, pushing back against Izuku with a sharp breath. But the sensation follows him, Izuku’s hand cupping him with a bit more pressure built against his balls as his fingers curve.

“Are you sure?” Izuku questions, like it’s a fucking game.

He grumbles, a low sound in the back of his throat fighting the urge to rise in pitch as Izuku’s dominant hand toys with the belt at his waist band.

“Kacchan.”

“Fuck, fine, just….don’t…” he hisses, unable to get the words out as his hand plummets beneath his pants.

But this time is different, because he feels lips, warm and wet against the nape of his neck, and he can’t help the way his own lips part and a soft gasp fills them. His eyes widen, the feeling light but so clear against his skin as Izuku kisses him.

It’s got to be because of the suit, he rationalizes. It has to be. It has to be because Izuku got to live out his childhood dream today, has to be because he feels it’s necessary and like he owes Katsuki for something.

But deep down he knows it isn’t.

A hand wraps around the base of his cock and he tenses, white heat filling him up and threatening his sturdy legs.

An arm wraps around his midsection, loosely holding him in place as Izuku whispers, “I got you.”

Katsuki drops onto his haunches, letting his head dip low towards the desk as a long stroke of his cock makes him shake, breath laboring as the sensation builds a slow rhythm, up and down.

Just like the last time, and just as good.

“You smell so good.” Izuku compliments, leaving another soft kiss below his ear, and Katsuki just about comes on the spot when a thick wet tongue swipes up his neck.

“Izuku.” He hisses.

“Sorry.” He murmurs, going back to a light kiss, “I’m sorry I just…I can’t help myself around you.”

Katsuki’s even more aware of what he’s getting himself into now, because the admission confirms what Kirishima had told him before, and now he knows Izuku is into it.

Not the money.

Not the business.

Just him.

He tries his best not to think about it too much, his ego threatening to lower the desk, bend over, and pull his pants down entirely. The thought of someone at his side, pleasing him however he needs, just made matters more complicated. But his brain wasn’t exactly worried about that in the moment.

Izuku’s arm holds him tighter around the stomach as his legs twitch and shake, his long strokes squeezing off at the top of his cock, index finger brushing against his sensitive spots as it twists back down. He keens at a particularly quick tug down to the base and back up, relying on the strength of the desk in front of him as his arms start to shake too. But the tightness in his pants restricts the movement, so he dares himself to push his pants further down his thighs, signaling the adjustment. Izuku follows suit, hooking his thumb around Katsuki’s belt to help push them down, and he hisses when his cock jumps free, pulsing and heavy and hot.

“Feels so warm.” Izuku coos, and Katsuki doesn’t think before he pushes back into the man’s body, grinding his ass into Izuku’s groin and making him hiss too.

“Kacchan.” He whines, and it’s so pitiful and hot that he responds in a closed mouth groan, repeating the action.

Fuck the reports, Katsuki thinks, tempted to just invite Izuku over again and actually do something about it this time. He’d scold the nerd for being dense while he’s nose deep on his cock, fuck.

“Shit, keep doing that…please.” Izuku urges, his hips bucking forward as they grind against each other absently. He’s never met someone so…dominant and needy at the same time. It confused him, almost to the point of not knowing what he was at first. But Katsuki is smart, they both are; Izuku just needs permission to be dominant.

Katsuki doesn’t have the same drive, would rather just take and receive what he wants when he wants it, but their dynamic was completely new to him. Hell, this kind of thing was completely new to him.

“Fuck.” Izuku curses, and it surprises him, the heat between the two buildings as the hand against his dick moves quicker and squeezes harder. His back arches as he grinds against the other in a heavy bouncing motion.

Izuku moans, “Just like that….don’t stop…god don’t stop.”

“Fuck.” Katsuki echos gruffly, his chest heaving as his heat starts to build, higher and higher as Izuku pumps his cock in his thick warm hand.

“Izuku….Iz-mph!” A hand slaps over his mouth, clasping it shut and muffling his voice completely as Katsuki’s eyes flip open in surprise. He sees it only a few seconds before he hears it, the distinct clank of boots down the hall adjacent to them, a cart squeaking along it.

Why the hell did he hire after hours janitors.

His anxiety rises, eyes shooting back to the door as he looks dead center at the dead bolt lock that sits horizontal, unlocked.

He tries to mumble a warning, but Izuku’s grip gets tighter on his cock, causing him to groan.

“Kacchan.” He whispers, his lips tickling the side of Katsuki’s ear as he speaks low.

He can’t help the way his orgasm rises with the sound of boots moving closer and closer to the door, and Izuku doesn’t stop.

Izuku doesn’t know that the rest of the floor is usually empty once second shift starts…Izuku doesn’t know that the janitors aren’t allowed in his office, ever. Izuku doesn’t know if they’ll be discovered getting off in pro hero Dynamight’s home office and despite that he keeps going.

Harder and harder and harder

Katsuki whimpers again, trying to give him a warning that it feels so good and too good that he’s quickly tipping over the edge.

“C’mon Dynamight.” Izuku whispers again, and Katsuki is too far gone to wonder what he's going to say next until it’s already too late.

“Come for me.”

Katsuki’s hand wraps around Izuku’s arm, claws digging into his skin desperately as his heat explodes, cock spasming as he cums. The sound of footsteps goes completely muffled on his ears, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open against Izuku’s shaky hand.

His hips stutter, body rutting forward absently into the closed hand at the head of his cock.

By the time he comes to, the footsteps outside his office have faded away, a thin trail of spit breaking away from Izuku’s hand as he finally removes it and gasps fill the room.

Holy fuck, his mind reaffirms as he stands there, blissed out and barely held up by the arm wrapped firmly around his body. He breathes heavily, trying to steady out as Izuku grabs a napkin and uses it to dry his coated fingers. He jumps when the cloth covers the top of his cock, but Izuku reassures him to relax again as he cleans the two of them.

He hopes none of it got on the damn floor.

The pressure against him eases as Izuku shifts back a step, helping Katsuki pull up his pants. But even with the fabric between them, he can still feel the mass of Izuku’s cock pressing into him.

That’s when he gets a crazy idea.

He turns his head, just enough so he can see the forest green curls of Izuku's hair and a curious eye looking back at him.

“Sit down.” Katsuki demands.

“Ah..what?”

“Sit the fuck down, Izuku.”

He carefully lowers himself into Katsuki’s office chair, face a blushing mess as Katsuki turns and drops to his knees.

“Kacchan, I ah…um…wait!” He fumbles, with a lazy attempt to stop Katsuki from unzipping his own pants.

He smirks when Izuku closes his eyes, failing to stop him from pulling them down slightly, his boxer briefs slipping too. But he has to tug hard, and harder, until Izuku’s cock finally twitches free, a sharp whimper following.

Katsuki licks his lips, his gaze boring into Izuku’s half lidded ones staring back down at him.

He was fucking cute when he was shy, but holy hell was his dick massive.

Katsuki looks back down at it, pulsing and thick as it stands hard under his hungry eyes.

“Fuck, Izuku. Where the hell do you even put this thing?”

“I didn’t have….shit, enough time to tell you…” he gasps, and Katsuki loves the way his hips roll a little as he watches. “I didn’t know you were gonna-“ he bites his lip as Katsuki wraps his hand around it loosely, letting out a high pitched whimper.

He wonders how the hell something like this would even fit inside of him, how it would feel filling him up.

The thought spurs him on, and he ignores the sudden yelp of his name as his tongue licks a flat stripe up the head. His skin feels hot against his tongue, a slightly salted taste lingering on it, but he doesn’t think twice.

“Kacchan…Kacchan oh my god Ka-“ he chokes, as Katsuki engulfs the thick member into his mouth. Izuku’s hips buck violently as he sucks, closing his lips carefully around him and using his tongue to roll against the head. Like hell if he couldn’t suck a dick or two, despite never having a chance to practice.

But it feels amazing, his own cock threatening to spring back to life as he slides up and down, warmth filling the little space left between his teeth.

Izuku slurs a few curse words he’s never heard the therapist say before, and it’s almost as good as praise as he moves, his throat barely accommodating the size as he lets it slip further down his tongue.

“I’m..god, Kacchan, I’m not going to last long if you…keep doing th-that.” He stutters, Katsuki holding his hips down with his arms as he applies pressure to the base of Izuku’s cock with his hands…everything he enjoys himself. He looks up at Izuku, who is looking down at him with damn stars in his eyes and he whimpers wetly at the contact.

It’s a hit, Izuku moaning and bucking harder as Katsuki sinks down again.

“S-so…close…Kacchan.” He whines, and Katsuki speeds up just to hear the noise again, satisfied by his ability to please the other so easily. He lets his tongue lick at the underside of Izuku’s pulsing cock, over and over again till he’s confident the man is about to burst, using his hand as one final push as he strokes up from the base.

Izuku buckles with a yelp, hands grasping frantically at Katsuki’s hair as he comes onto his tongue. He closes his eyes, swallowing greedily as it floods his throat, warm and piquant.

He only raises his head up and releases once Izuku’s moans have quieted and his chest heaves slowly.

They don’t say anything at first, Katsuki smirking as the therapist lets his head roll back onto the top of the chair with a groan.

He does the same that Izuku had for him, putting his softening dick back into his underwear comfortably before zipping his pants back up, and he only notices after that Izuku is giving him a loving look, something he scoffs at before standing back up.

“I know this might be a little overdue but…” Izuku starts, finally standing up to meet Katsuki back at his raised desk and procrastinated report. He waits expectantly, till Izuku finally speaks again, the blush on his face tinted bright pink and his eyes blown out, relaxed as he asks,

“Can I take you out sometime?”

Chapter Text

It's not every day Katsuki finds himself in dress attire.

Especially on a Friday night, dining at a restaurant that is probably twice his salary, sitting across from a bright eyed and green haired massage therapist he'd met maybe two months ago.

Not that he couldn’t afford it, given his lack of frivolous spending, but he’s still lucky that he gets a discount for flashing his pro hero badge.

Across from him, Izuku smiles, hands clasped and laid out on the table in front of him as elevator music serenades their awkward silence. Katsuki keeps his own hands in his lap, fidgeting with his fingers as he tries to come up with anything to break the ice, so to speak.

It was their first date, but obviously not the first time they've interacted in a more casual setting. He tells himself it shouldn't be this hard to just talk.

“This is nice.” Izuku speaks up first with a few reaffirming nods, pretending to be entertained by the dim lighting and live pianist some rows down from their table for two.

Katsuki already wants to leave, honestly.

“It's just the first thing that popped up on Google.” He admits.

Izuku snorts, and Katsuki rolls his eyes at the silly amused expression on his face.

“Really?”

“Look, if it's that bad then let's just go, okay?” Katsuki grumbles, and he's doing a shit job at hiding the obvious discomfort it gives him.

“Nonono I didn't say that!” Izuku is quick to correct. “It’s just—very formal. I've never been to a place like this before…if I'm being honest.”

Neither had Katsuki, but his absence of fine dining must not be expected as a well known top pro hero. When Izuku had asked him to pick the place after a passing comment about enjoying unique foods, it was either make a good impression or screw himself before he actually got screwed by taking his date to a chain restaurant or pizza place or something.

He'd prefer the latter.

But admittedly, even the local Dominos would've been better than this. A four course restaurant overlooking the infamous rainbow bridge was a nice idea, something you'd put in a luxury first date starter pack. Actually being there meant waiting for a coin-sized meal that had a French name and probably contained six different ingredients that were all too difficult to pronounce.

He'd been to similar five star restaurants with his parents as a child and it had never been a good time, so he cursed himself mentally, wondering why the hell he thought this would be a good idea in the first place.

To impress Izuku, of course, god damnit.

His date follows suit in scanning the room, perhaps trying to think of something more interesting to talk about too. Katsuki takes a breath, forcing himself to come up with relevant conversation. It's the least he can do.

“What are you going to order?”

Izuku thinks with a soft hum as he picks up a menu, “...maybe just the Katsudon.”

“The appetizer?” He confirms, suspiciously eying the menu himself to make sure he had read it right. Again, half this shit was so niche he didn't know what it was.

“I can't really afford anything else here…” Izuku explains in a nervous half assed laugh.

Izuku had been the one to ask him out, so naturally, according to stupid dating laws, he was the one paying too.

“I get half off, remember?” Katsuki adds quickly, hoping the comment would relieve some of the burden.

“Oh! Right.”

To hell with it, Katsuki thinks. It was his fault for picking something so expensive, because of course Izuku would've said yes to a damn dinner cruise if that's what he asked for, despite the cost. And he wasn't about to spoil their first night out together with money troubles.

“-And I'm not fucking broke, so just let me pay.” He’s really not, he just didn’t want to have to spend so much money on what he deemed as snacks.

“I'm supposed be the one taking you on a date…not the other way around.” Izuku grumbles, clearly displeased with the offer–more like demand.

“Doesn't mean I can't pay right?” He fights.

“I saved up for it though!” Izuku argues, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was probably already money crunching. But it catches Katsuki's attention because they had only just decided this a week ago so…

“…you've been planning this?”

Izuku goes bright red, a scene way more entertaining than the restaurant amenities themselves as Katsuki hints a smirk at him.

“Oh, Uhm! Well, not exactly…I mean…”

“Would you two like some more wine?” The server interrupts suddenly. Neither of them had seen him coming, their attention quickly drawn away from the conversation.

“Please.” Izuku says hastily, and they sit though some more awkward silence as their glasses fill up again, Izuku's slower than his own. The nerd can handle his alcohol, Katsuki realizes.

“What are you going to order?” Izuku asks him the same question back, his face a bit more relaxed and a soft smile bracing his lips when the server leaves and they're allowed a bit more privacy.

“The fish whatever.” He decides, not caring to try and read the names of everything again.

“I…think they're all fish Kacchan.” Izuku's face shifts, like he's holding back more laughter and Katsuki groans.

“The Halibut then, I don't care.” He waves off.

“That's a course two item, you have to pick something from the top here first.” Izuku stands to reach over and point at his menu, his pointer finger circling over three options that sure enough all contain some kind of fish.

“What the hell…” Katsuki grumbles, a guilty pleasure forming from thin air when Izuku giggles softly.

“But I do like squid, so I'll get the Halibut for the second one too. We just have to figure out what we want for the rest.” Katsuki looks up at him, devouring that innocent smile on his face knowing he's anything but innocent.

Izuku sits back down in his seat, and shortly after they make the order, a dish labelled Sablefish as the first of many. Izuku speaks to the server with a kind of natural ease and politeness, his customer service background showing up in soaring colors.

Katsuki's brain swims, because when they're alone, he's much more used to a sassy, bolt Izuku. Especially after their experience last week…you know, the one in his office that reeked of some exhibitionists sick dream? Damnit, he had to change the subject as quickly as possible or his delicate dress pants would probably rip.

“How the hell do you know so much about this stuff if you've never been?”

“I hear plenty of stories.” Izuku shrugs. “From clients I mean. I used to work on a woman who was a chef for Ginza Kitafuku. She even brought me some of their famous snow crab for free!”

“I doubt it was free.” He presses without thinking too much about it, save for the confused expression dawning Izuku's face.

“Huh?”

“I'm not an idiot, I know nothings ever free. It's always an exchange. What'd ya do, eat her out or something?”

Izuku, unfortunately timed, chokes on his wine, eyes wide at Katsuki's admittedly bold assumption. He knows it's possible, and there are nice people in the world, sure, but once you hit six figures, kindness has a price. He's only half serious about the allegation though, just pushing his limits on how frazzled he could make Izuku in public.

Unfortunately for him, he recollects fairly quickly.

“I helped relieve pain along her spine, a long term issue that was causing her to spend time off from cooking. I think it was a thank you offer, and the crab was incredibly delicious but…I didn't do anything you're thinking about.” Izuku explains, a sympathetic expression in his eyes that hoods slightly when he feels a cool leathered shoe brushing up against his leg.

He notices it immediately of course, and the soft expression on the massage therapist's face turns ever so devious as it runs up and down his clothed skin, rustling the fabric gently.

Talk about a backfire. Izuku's whole expression reeks of sympathy, like he was doing a good deed by consoling the jealousy inside him.

“Nothing like that, okay? Promise.”

Katsuki's cheeks feel warm, and he has to turn away to regroup himself because what the hell was wrong with him, making everything so inherently sexual?

“Whatever.” He shoves off.

The caviar isn't bad, but just looking at the small portions made his stomach growl. Their second course is fine too, but could've been less bland to Katsuki's tastes. He added extra spices to everything, something Izuku seemed to enjoy the sound of given his apparent love for dishes like Katsudon.

But he should've gotten an entree too, it turns out. They were almost as big as the damn meals themselves.

Before too long they get lost in casual conversation, and it makes the night just a bit easier.

“So what the hell’s the difference? They sound the exact same to me.” Katsuki asks after listening to another one of Izuku’s medical rants.

“Oh, nono they're completely different. A chiropractor uses manual adjustments to help your bones, nerves, and muscles, while a massage is really just for muscle tension. It's usually way less painful too.”

Katsuki frowns. “Your big ass hands breaking my back does not sound less painful.”

Izuku laughs modestly, “You seem to be enjoying it now at least. You fell asleep again just yesterday, remember?”

Katsuki sighs loudly, picking up a portion of egg yolk and rice in his spoon and shoving it into his mouth greedily.

“I also seem to remember you enjoying it on previous occasions too. Which, I must admit, I miss those briefs. The mini ones that show off so much skin and gave me so much space to work with. I didn't realize it would be a one time deal….”

Katsuki gawks at him, his face frozen with the spoon held only centimeters from his mouth as he stares deeply into devilish green eyes. This was definitely payback for his earlier comment.

He holds his breath even, totally caught off guard by how casually Izuku had just brought that up.

“But if I had to choose, I'd prefer full open access anywa- Kacchan you're dripping!!” He yells suddenly, reaching forward to lift the spoon back to center gravity a second quicker than Katsuki can realize it.

It felt like he was coming out of a coma, blinking a few times as he looked down at the pool of liquid now soaking into his button up and slacks.

“Fuck.” He mutters, while Izuku seems to find it funny.

“Here.” The therapist hands him a few spare napkins; mortified as Katsuki starts scraping at the spots roughly.

“Nonono you'll ruin the material like that Kacchan!” Izuku laughs, trying to stop him before any real damage is done by grabbing his wrist.

“What the hell about this is so funny to you?” He retorts, the small chuckles and smile on Izuku's face pissing him off more than his soiled clothing.

“Just…c'mon, let's go find a bathroom.” Izuku stands up, offering a hand to Katsuki as they turn back towards the front of the restaurant. Naturally, he takes it, and it feels ridiculous and childish but something about his soft thick hand is an exception.

It's only when a few eavesdropping eyes catch him as they pass by, that he pulls his arm back and resumes walking beside Izuku instead.

Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind.

The large black walled bathroom is empty when they enter, Izuku immediately grabbing at a few sheets of paper towel out of the automatic dispensor while Katsuki checks the mirror and fuck,

It's already stained a dark brown.

He groans in defeat, but Izuku is quick to distract him.

“It's honestly not a big deal Kacchan, you wouldn't believe the amount of things i've stained my clothes with in the past few years, soy sauce being the worst.”

“It wouldn't be a big deal if you weren't laughing the whole damn time. It looks like I reverse shit myself.”

Izuku snorts, and Katsuki glares at him.

“I dont think that's...nevermind, I'm sorry.” Izuku apologizes sincerely, hiding another bout of laughter between wavering lips. “I'm just having a lot of fun. Being here with you is…refreshing.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Katsuki grumbles, not sure what to make of the compliments yet.

He watches as Izuku takes the wet cloth and dabs it into his shirt, much less forced than what he'd been doing.

“I am surprised, honestly. With as little about you on the internet…as a fan, I'm surprised you wanted to come to a place so prestigious. People have been looking our way all night. I just worry reporters will catch wind of it if this is where you take people, I mean. Maybe the past few times were different but…”

Izuku still didn't know there weren't any last times, or past few times. He hadn't done this before. He hadn't taken anyone out, let alone entertain the extras as they gossiped and whispered about him, probably something that will end up in the news later. He just wanted to do things right by Izuku, and that meant not being secretive or sneaky in a way that might backfire.

When it's silent, Izuku looks up at him, and their eyes meet in easy coordination. It felt like deja vu, from their first session. When the pain in his forearms started to ease and he got his first good look at his gorgeously handsome—Izuku.

“If you haven't noticed, I don't care.” Katsuki decides, a simple reaction.

“I've noticed.” Izuku confirms with a faint smile and nod. “I like that about you.”

Katsuki watches his lips move, bright pink skin softly playing out every word he has to say in alluring movement. They look so plush, undeniably pretty when Izuku pulls them into a smile too. Despite getting into each other's pants on two separate occasions (including the office incident), kissing was still out of the picture. But that just made Katsuki want it more, harder.

And then Izuku’s lips part, very slightly revealing his teeth, and Katsuki simultaneously mirrors the expression, taking in a breath. When he looks back up, Izuku is looking at him again, and they’re probably way too close right now, but he tries to ignore it.

“I'm just gonna throw this thing away, so don't worry about it.”

“What?? But it looks really good on you! I can clean it properly if you let me borrow it.” Izuku argues, and he can smell the alcohol on his breath.

Katsuki sighs, “Fine.”

“But we'll have to find you a change of clothes if we're going to be out much longer.”

They had briefly discussed going downtown, enjoying the nice weather and a walk. It wasn't something Katsuki was willing to give up either, especially not on a first date that was going so poorly in his books.

“I've got some extra stuff at the agency.” He half suggests, and Izuku quickly nods. He's always so damn compliant, and Katsuki does know if it pisses him off or just makes him horny.

“I wouldn’t mind a walk.” Izuku answers in a voice like syrup and a smile as bright as sunshine.

They pay the waiter, making up some excuse about an emergency before running out into the night, Izuku snickers again when Katsuki actually starts to speed walk out.

The agency is almost in complete shut down at this time of the night, though he’s got a few third shifters coming on duty soon. It would be easier to slip in and out without too many questions or comments.

“Do we have to like…sneak in?” Izuku asks, as if he could hear his thoughts.

“No? It’s my fuckin agency.” He scoffs, almost like it was an insult even though he knew it wasn’t.

“Oh, true.”

“Just stay close, got it?” Katsuki instructs.

Okay, so maybe he would get yelled at if someone saw him after hours, assuming he was there working overtime or something. He had a few sidekicks who were extra picky about him taking his allotted time off, away from the office.

They sneak in, slipping into the elevator and riding it up to the top, Izuku staring eagerly at the floor that reads “Dynamight.”

He’s pleased with the man's excitement, feeling a sense of inflated pride that someone admired him so much, even if it was a bit stalker-ish. With the way Izuku carried himself, he probably wouldn't have guessed he was an alleged super fan. It should freak him out, but it really doesn't.

Katsuki unlocks the door to his section of the office—call it the executive suite—letting the two of them inside and heading straight to his locker room. He makes Izuku wait outside, despite the man's protests. God knows they’ll just get into more trouble being alone in there. Izuku’s got that look in his eyes again, devilish and daunting, like he could pounce Katsuki at any time. It made his skin hot, but it also spiked his nerves like a hard liquor, complimenting the wine running through his system.

The outfit he’d left behind was in case of emergencies, so it wasn’t the most attractive get up, just a black t-shirt and black joggers. Boring might be better anyways though, to not draw attention to himself.

But as he's about to leave, one of the lockers reflecting in the mirror catches his eye; one of his hero costume sleeves had caught between the door and the frame, and that’s all it takes for his interest to spike.

He ditches the casual outfit hastily, and instead, dresses in his full hero costume, a familiar and comforting display as he admires it proudly in the mirror. He’s spent half his life in this thing.

And when he steps out? Izuku’s eyes practically pop out of his head and his face turns bright red. And dammit, he loved the attention.

Katsuki puffs out his chest, grinning, with one command. “Go get your suit on, nerd. I got an idea.”

✦

One of his favorite things about flying in the summer is the breeze.

It warms his damp skin while he uses his quirk to propel his body through the air, the closest thing he'll get to soaring.

Izuku looks like he's enjoying it too, the wide smile on his face making Katsuki eager for more, to push the limits of their training from before. Hell, he'd make a pretty good sparring opponent too.

Izuku was already fantastic at using black whip to swing around, paired with the small jets on his feet that made getting some height a bit easier. It was cute to see him a little unsure and off balance, watching as weary eyes turn into inspired ones when he makes his first rooftop jump that night.

Then it's one after the other, roof by roof.

He's sure people are getting annoyed over their ruckus in the middle of the night, but he simply doesn't care. Granted, he never has.

Katsuki realizes they’re in familiar territory when neon lights fill the streets below them, his brain subconsciously leading them back to his place by the time both of their limbs start to tire, and Izuku notices right away.

“Isn't that where you live?” Izuku points towards the high rise building in the distance as they're bounding through the air. Katsuki thinks his face looks fucking adorable with the wind tossing his hair around, hiding the freckles of his cheeks that he's memorized so dearly like a god damn twitterpatted loser.

He just can't resist.

“Wanna find out?” Katsuki smirks at him, and Izuku's eyes light up again, an excitement he's seen all too many times by now and simultaneously not enough at all..

Katsuki leads them straight to it, stopping on a rooftop that was slightly higher and the closest to his own penthouse apartment. He looks up, and so does Izuku, seemingly recognizing the balcony about five stories up.

“I don't think I can make this one Ka-Dynamight. It's just a little too far and my calculations showed a decrease in stamina at around forty five percent max-”

“Enough with the numbers, you'll do fine. Trust yourself Deku.”

“I do trust myself!” He defends.

“Then less talking, more trusting.”

He watches amused as Izuku ponders the jump, which truly was the highest, longest vertical jump he'd done yet.

“Eyes on me.” Katsuki demands, crouching down beside the other as his hands heat up beside his thighs, little yellow and orange sparks lighting up his palms.

With an effortless push, he's off the ground in seconds, a wave of manipulated wind pulling at his skin as his body launches into the sky.

He lets up on a minor explosion as he reaches the railing, grabbing the sturdy black beams and swinging his lower half over it like a pole vaulter would, twisting his body to land on his feet again.

The move was so ordinary to him, something he used to trek walls on a daily basis. But from up above? Izuku really did look tiny, as the distance between them weighs in.

“Feeling inspired yet, nerd?” He calls down with a smirk, the power dynamic landing in his favor once more as he revels in something he could do better than anyone e-

A rush of warm air bursts around him, and when he opens his eyes again everything is so damn green.

A bright viridescent ray of neon electricity swirls around black whip’s grasp on the railing.

Tossed forest green hair catches in the wind and dances about wildly.

Emerald glowing eyes meet his own from inches away, daring their proximity as Izuku all but teleports in front of him mere seconds later.

He barely has any time to brace, his arms held out and open as the new hero crashes into his body, barrling both of them into the wall of his apartment on unsteady feet.

Thank god they didn't hit the glass.

He should be relieved that Izuku even made the jump in the first place.

But he can't think of anything right now. Not with the way Izuku's arms barricade him in on both sides, a thick gloved hand buffering his head on impact, and exacerbated breaths warming his chin.

Izuku's eyes glow dangerously wide as they stare into his own, animate and almost as surprised as he was…and impressed. But at the same time, they were soft and waiting through a sea of crystal clear water that devoured them both.

For once, he realizes, it was clear.

Katsuki's eyelashes flutter as he blinks, quick to recognize that they're mirroring their exact position not weeks ago on top of his balcony, on a similar night as this. But Izuku's eyes never leave his own.

“Kacchan.” He murmurs, breaking their code with ease, so faint he barely recognizes it as more than a wishful exhale.

All it would take now, is the subtle lift of his chin and hooded eyes to shut.

All it would take, is the gentle turn of Izuku's head, as it starts tipping forward and his eyes finally trace down to Katsuki's lips, clear and determined.

All it would take, is the space to close between them, and Izuku’s nose to brush against his as the warmth of soft lips hover so so close.

Katsuki’s heart palpitates, and he tenses, but he doesn’t pull away.

Rather, he gives in.

The smallest bit of pressure connects the two, Izuku’s lips placed securely to his own in the softest sensation he’s ever experienced. And it’s not at all bad either. He doesn’t taste bad, doesn’t force it, and it doesn’t feel gross like he once thought it would.

Katsuki lets an eye slit open, and seeing Izuku’s own completely closed makes something flutter inside his stomach. He’s warm, and trusting, and it stirs a deep part of desire inside his chest that tells him to give in.

Izuku pulls away first, their lips pulled apart in a devastating way, like it’s forced. The therapist stares into him with hazy eyes, like he’s lost in it already, and his face still lingers so close that he could just…

Lean in and press their lips together again, and it’s still just as cautious and careful and weary. No open mouths or tongue, just pure innocent intent as Izuku gauges the situation like he does.

Another brief release ends in another painstakingly soft and simple kiss, but this time it’s on wet lips, and slips them together a bit more loosely, stirring the heat inside his abdomen.

Katsuki is first to lean in this time, his head pushing off the wall as his eyes close and he trusts the hand that now cups his cheek and jaw. He drives into it with more force, a pressure that leaves him melting into Izuku’s hold.

Fucking melting.

Then it’s kiss after kiss after kiss. Quick closed mouth kisses as they barely give each other any space to breathe in between. The soft clicking noise and wet sensation left behind makes his hips stir…but it’s nowhere near the feeling when Izuku meets his lips with wider intention, and his tongue prods between them, asking for permission. It’s plush, eager to run over his teeth and mix with his own as Katsuki parts his lips with a heavy exhale, swallowing Izuku’s little whimper like water.

He’s lost in it too, so far removed from the time to wonder how long they’ve been standing outside, making out like college kids at an American frat house party. Izuku’s thumb rubs against his cheek lightly, back and forth, lulling him.

“You taste so good…” Izuku murmurs as they gasp for air, and it makes him huff. It would shock someone how versatile Izuku could be, praising him one second and turning into a puppy the next, completely at Katsuki’s mercy.

So in true Dynamight fashion, he pulls out the attitude, confident that this was the perfect time to prove he could dominate over him too. Being intimate didn’t seem so scary now, not when he’d be the one calling the shots.

“That all you got up your sleeve huh? A stupid compliment about my mouth and you’re expecting to get into my pants tonight?” He mocks with a smirk.

Izuku looks surprised at the sudden play, but his eyes soften up again just as quickly. Then his head drops, diving into the small space between Katsuki’s shoulder and jaw, mouthing at his neck till he’s sucking in the skin there. It's immediately overwhelming, but he doesn't have time to adjust before a thigh presses up and in-between his legs. He hisses at the unexpected pleasure, shivering as he grabs Izuku’s shoulder for support and stands there helplessly.

Katsuki can already tell he’s made a mistake when Izuku straightens up again, his slick wet lips curved up mischievously.

“Do you have a safe word, Kacchan?”

Chapter Text

Katsuki burns.

In more ways than one.

His face burns bright red when Izuku picks him up and carries him inside, into his own apartment that night. His arms wrap tightly around Izuku's neck as he buries his nose into thick curls to hide it, because verbally protesting had done nothing to stop it.

He's never been picked up before, but Izuku does it with ease and it's not even uncomfortable.

He feels Izuku's hands under his thighs, firm and strong, holding him up as they walk through his home. He sees it all pass by him as his eyes scatter around, lost in thought…past the kitchen, down the hall, until they've emerged inside his room and Izuku hastily makes his way to the bed.

Suddenly his body weight shifts as Izuku leans onto the mattress with one knee, lowering both of them into soft, familiar sheets. He doesn't let Katsuki fall without him, either.

“Izuku-” He tries, but it's cut off by another open mouthed kiss from the man above him. He felt so small and trapped with someone else towering over him, in his arms and between his legs. But it's not a bad feeling–he decides–it's just different; new.

He doesn't even know what to do with his body, his limbs resting stiff on the bed as he returns the kiss only a few moments after Izuku’s lips open up for him. He follows along with what he knows, and right now, that happened to be Izuku's tongue. Warm and familiar as it slides over his own. A quiet moan fills his throat, a mix of their saliva wetting his lips easily by the time he pulls back.

His abdomen burns next.

Anxiety and excitement swirling together in a hot pool inside him, making his cock ache with a sweet pained sensation he half loves and is half scared of.

What if he’s rough? He can take it.

What if it hurts? What if he likes the pain?

And what if he doesn’t know when to stop-

“Kacchan.” Izuku calls his name urgently and Katsuki’s eyes snap back to center stage, peering up into green ones that look at him in apprehension. “What are you thinking right now?”

“Nothing, nerd.” He barks defensively, trying to yank Izuku's face back down again, but he sees right through the excuse and resists.

“You've got nothing to be worried about, okay?” The massage therapist speaks to him in his business casual voice, and it pisses Katsuki off but soothes him at the same time. He didn't need Izuku's soft reassurance, he was fine.

But he feels a hand sneak between his legs, pushing a cupped palm against his groin, and it makes him hiss suddenly on a sharp breath. Katsuki’s legs clench, and his stomach tenses.

“Relax, I know you can.” Izuku responds quietly, sensually.

He's right.

It felt too good to be making him so anxious, but he couldn’t shake the lie, the unspoken precedent he’d set for himself the minute he failed to inform Izuku that he’d never actually done this before.

“Shhh” Izuku continues to soothe, planting a small trail of kisses over Katsuki’s jawline, down his neck, sucking another soft space of warm skin between his teeth before whispering, “Relax for me, Katsuki.”

His arm falls over his face, trying not to moan at the top of his damn lungs when the hand pressed against him starts to rotate and push, grinding a beautifully close pressure into his cock.

His chest rises and falls in a heavy rhythm, demanding his surrender to it, and he can't help the needy breaths that linger in his throat when Izuku builds a rhythm over his length that’s just like the one he had when they were in his office. They make eye contact again, and Izuku smiles at him in a way that feels so genuine, real, and it’s too fucking good already, so he lets his legs sag around the other, exhaling as the trust builds between them and he rolls his hips forward against the pressure willingly.

“There you go, show me what you need sweet thing.”

Sweet thing, he processes two seconds too late, just as Izuku’s fingers curl and close over the length of his clothed cock.

He shivers on a quivering groan, eyes shut tight as the motion continues around him and makes his hips sputter. Izuku sure knew how to tease, and calling him something like that? It was so fucking lewd inside his mind that he couldn’t tell if there any notion of innocence to it at all. Not that he could fight, anyways. His stomach raises, jutting his hips back, and Izuku notices all too well.

“Oh, is that it?” Izuku asks innocently, like he's genuinely surprised by the reaction. “Do you like it when I praise you? I think I can do that.”

Fuck fuck fuck

“Do whatever the hell you want.” he pushes in a low, uninterested tone. But he gets a smirk back.

“I want…” Izuku stands, cutting himself off as he slowly starts to unzip the suit, lifting the mouth guard off and over his head before shucking the rest off his shoulders and revealing his broad chest. “…to bury my cock so deep inside you tonight that when I pump you full of my cum, it’ll leak down those pretty pale thighs for weeks.”

Katsuki stares.

He’s hardly breathing at this point, holding his breath on purpose as he watches the suit fall slowly down his built figure. The only thing holding his dick now was the thin material of his dark grey briefs, the outline clear as day when it twitches under Katsuki’s gaze.

“I..I mean, if that’s okay?” Izuku adds in a shy tone, utterly and completely shattering the illusion.

Katsuki gawks at him, so fucking hot and red.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, oh my god.” He rushes, hands slapping over his eyes to shield himself from the embarrassment that plagues his cheeks. For a moment, it felt like a trance, and Izuku all but ripped them both out of it like a damn band-aid. One minute he's talking about absolutely destroying Katsuki's ass while basically giving him a strip tease, and the next he's asking if it was okay.

It was so fucking embarrassing.

“I just didn’t know if you’d like me uhm, talking to you like that? So if you don’t, I can stop, completely a non-issue!” Izuku sputters.

So it’s an act, Katsuki realizes.

But as much as he hated the idea of giving in to role play, his cock twitched eagerly at the imagery of being filled up and stuffed full. Izuku’s interest in seeing his cum leaking out of him making everything hotter than it even had to be.

“Shut up.” Katsuki growls between his teeth.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fucking sure idio-.”

“-because if it’s too much, I totally understand. I know being kinky isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but, I’ve been thinking about you…like this, for so long I just had to try it and-“

Katsuki gets tired of him talking, deciding to haul his body up and watch the greenette stumble back a step to accommodate them both.

Izuku shuts his mouth quickly, eyes wandering to and from Katsuki’s lips in question as they stand face to face. But Katsuki’s unwavering and glassy eyes train onto his pupils, and only his hands move. Izuku seems to notice it right away, gaze ripping down to his chest as Katsuki gives him something to actually look at. He tugs the zipper of his suit all the way down, relaxing his arms to let the fabric fall off his body, and then moving down to his pants and unzipping those too.

They’re loose, the baggy sewn material creating a pile at his ankles the minute his belt unhooks. Izuku’s eyes seemed to trace his body almost desperately, and he wouldn’t mind if the nerd was trying to memorize every inch of his skin yet again.

He doesn’t wait for a response before slipping his boxer briefs over his hips too, helping the thick hem slide over his thighs and meeting the same fate.

He shouldn’t feel shy like this. Izuku has touched him bare before, and he should be used to it by now…should be. He straightens his shoulders, standing tall and trying to gain Izuku’s attention back up at his face, but it’s stuck looking down. Katsuki knows he’s hard, knows it’s probably leaking precum at the tip already, red and straining against nothing but big green eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Izuku whispers, and Katsuki huffs like he’s unable to accept the compliment.

“You’ve already seen me naked like, a million times dumbass.”

“Not like this…not when I’m about to—”

“Shut up.”, Katsuki growls, forcefully pulling the man back in for another eager kiss to shut him up. He takes his embarrassment out on Izuku’s mouth, biting at his lower lip and scratching his claws down the man’s bare back, just to make him moan. And he does, groaning into him and pushing the two back down into the bed, sinking further into the sheets.

Izuku’s skin feels so warm, much like his own, but something about touching him back has Katsuki anticipating desire, a desire that warms his chest, and his thighs, and his…

Katsuki’s eyes flutter open as he looks down between the two of them as a dense warmth lays against his stomach.

Izuku’s cock is dark red, thick and heavy against him, laid directly over his lower abdomen and stretching as far as his belly button, completely overshadowing his own cock leaking precum over his hip. Somehow, it looks even bigger than when he had it in his mouth, and he gawks at the length. Beneath it, his balls sit heavy against the hem of his briefs that are only pulled down a few inches because apparently, he just can’t wait.

“Fuck,” Katsuki moans lowly as Izuku scoops up both their cocks and strokes them together with a firm pull. Izuku mewls, a soft almost animalistic bellow as his hand squeezes against the head.

Izuku puts him in such a vulnerable position, one leg pushed up with his free hand so his ass would spread even more, and when he presses forward, Katsuki feels his full balls slide flush against him, covering his hole in heat and making them both sticky within seconds. Katsuki feels like he’s been sweating buckets this whole time, his quirk running on high alert without his goddamn permission, naturally.

Katsuki rolls his hips in time with Izuku’s hand, rutting up together into the tight grip eagerly.

“Your dick feels so good in my palm, and when I squeeze, you leak here.” Izuku demonstrates, his thumb rubbing the hole at his tip when liquid leaks from it. He jerks when it presses into the small opening there. “So pretty.” He mumbles.

Katsuki’s eyes are half closed, but he briefly catches the way Izuku watches him with desire, lips wet and eyes focused.

“Kacchan I…I really want to feel you..” Katsuki protests with a little stifled complaint as Izuku’s hand disappears from his cock, but he gasps again when fingers stroke down his taint, pausing over the tight ring of flesh between his cheeks. “Here…I wanna feel you here. Make you feel really good inside.”

“Quit talking about it like this is a porno god damnit.” Katsuki rushes, and Izuku laughs.

“Sorry…do you have lube?”

Katsuki twists his body so he can reach for the small bottle in his night stand drawer. It’s handy, and Izuku gives him a suspicious eye as he hands it over but doesn’t as.

It’s cold against his tight skin, a familiar feeling. But it’s completely different when Izuku's fingertips pet circles into his rim. He shivers, seemingly encapsulating Izuku’s attention as he teases him.

“God, you’re so sensitive…when I rub it, your legs shake.”

Katsuki's whole body shakes, little quivers that ripple through his thighs and make his toes curl. His hands fist deep into the sheets as Izuku's lips leave a wet trail up his tummy in a soothing way, as his first finger goes past one knuckle deep.

Katsuki tenses up, mouth dropping open in a silent moan, and Izuku uses his other hand to rub circles into his waist as he holds it in place.

It's so fucking sensual, and Izuku treats him like a porcelain doll. But it's benevolent too. Treating him so kindly and new when in reality he was a complete virgin, is a gift of sorts.

“Can you feel me, Kacchan?” Izuku asks softly, and Katsuki's about to tell him how fucking stupid of a question that is until he feels the protruding mass wiggle around inside him. He hisses, biting his lip so the noise doesn't turn vocal.

“When I move my finger inside you like this?”

“Stop treating me like I'm gunna break.” He grumbles out, somehow already overstimulated by how slow he was going. He was never good with sensuality, forcing himself open quick and hard when he fucked himself with a dildo or a plug. Everything felt too romantic when it was so slow.

Izuku sighs, before tugging at his finger, pulling it out just enough so he can forcefully ram it back inside. His head whips back, and he grunts, alarmed. He didn’t expect the man to react so quickly to his request and it startled him.

Katsuki gasps, his thighs folding up and into himself further, feet twitching in the air as he lay there helplessly attached to the other.

“I’ll give you more, I promise, but I need to prep you first. You’re so tight, I don't want to make you bleed.” Izuku’s voice strains, like he’s holding back.

Katsuki can’t find the words to object this time, still feeling a hot shiver roll through his body.

Izuku continues the motion, a bit steadier now as he pushes and pulls his finger, in and out. Katsuki can't help but gasp as it curls up against the soft little space of flesh that he's always searching for on his own. Izuku makes it look so easy…making it feel so fluid.

“Besides I…wanna play with you here some more.” Izuku rubs at the sensitive spot, making Katsuki gasp and huff. “I love it when you squeeze down on me, I can feel everything…it’s so hot inside you I just wanna…shit.” He curses on an exhale that brushes against his skin

Izuku is like a completely different person right now. Greedy and love drunk off of Katsuki's body. Maybe this is why he needed a stupid safe word. He seemed lost in it. Katsuki looks up at him, and Izuku is looking down at his body like it's a damn painting.

“Are you ready for a second?”

“I've been fucking ready for hours but yo-” He's shut down quickly when a second starts to press him open.

“Shhh. I know, you need it so bad, don’t you?”

Now he's screwed, because each inch in and he's gasping, breath hitching each time they move in and out. Closing his mouth just makes him breathe faster, exhaling through his nose in short bursts. It's torturous, the fingers rolling over his prostate greedily, stretching his poor little hole and rotating him between pleasure and pain. Izuku goes back to kissing him, little praises whispered against his ear as he accommodates both fingers.

You’re perfect

Good boy

So tight

So so pretty, Kacchan

Izuku moves, and Katsuki huffs in complaint at the loss while he watches the man prop himself up. He's left with his legs up, and ass propped, with fingers shoved inside him, and the owner of said fingers looking down at his hole practically drooling. And Izuku has the audacity to start stroking himself while he’s two fingers deep inside his asshole.

Normally, he would have jumped to call it gross, grimace at him like he’s upset about it, call him a pervert even. But his brain flips and suddenly it’s so fucking hot watching Izuku masturbate and feeling the pleasure inside himself at the same time.

Izuku shuts his eyes, squeezing his cock and losing control of his fingers as they push all the way inside in one swift motion. Katsuki yelps, legs clamping together in another embarrassing display as the feeling hits him in a wave of pleasure.

“I-I’m sorry, I'm trying to go slow but it's…I-”

“Just do it already.” He blurts out anxiously and Izuku flushes again, stroking lazily at his cock while they talk. Fuck, why is that so hot??

“But…I-”

Katsuki scoffs at him, cutting him off.

“You're not gonna break me…Izuku.” The name pulls him back to ground level, a baseline of sorts, and his seemingly hazy expression clears.

“Okay.” Izuku finally agrees, and he's reaching for the bottle of lube again, letting a few drops coat the tip of his aching cock. Katsuki almost feels bad for him, the poor thing red and straining around nothing.

He digs his nails into the sheets in anticipation as he watches Izuku position himself below him. He feels the warm friction against his taint, sliding down till it catches on the soft puffy skin below.

Izuku exhales heavily, holding himself at the top and using a finger to guide his cock right to his entrance. It takes forever, and he glares Izuku down when the man looks up at him with puppy dog eyes again, like he’s asking for permission.

But that doesn’t stop his heart from palpitating.

The right time had long passed to tell Izuku it was his first time. Long passed the time to be honest, so he screwed his eyes shut and waited for the feeling of his hole being prodded and pushed. At least he knew this feeling well. He'd had plenty of toys and his own fingers up there before, so he knew what to expect, he knew it wouldn't be-

He bites his lip as he feels the strain of his wet skin, the head of Izuku's cock slowly pushing forward, enough pressure to start opening him up. It’s warm, unbelievably warm, and somehow it felt even bigger than anything he's taken before. He breathes deeper, trying to match Izuku's own breath, without the staggered effect.

But the feeling at his entrance only grows as he’s being stretched wider and wider. Izuku's cock is elastic like silicone, but it feels alive and thick and pulsing.

Izuku mumbles something in a breathless pant, but Katsuki can't hear it past the pounding in his ears. Izuku holds one of his thighs back as he watches, and the feeling of being helpless slowly sneaks its way into his subconscious.

“Oh my god…” Izuku grunts, and when the head of his cock finally pops past his rim they’re both moaning. The pressure makes his right ring of flesh pulse in pain, his nails ripping at the sheets as he squirms, which only makes the pain worse.

He can’t help the whimper that leaves his throat, and Izuku quickly bends over him to brush the hair over his forehead.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re doing so well.” He cooes.

Katsuki’s not so sure, because he only waits a second before continuing to press his hips forward and the white stretching pain returns.

“Iz-“ He muffles, biting at his lip and shoving his face sideways into the pillow. “Iz-fuck-“

He’s a mess, forehead streaked in a fresh sweat, limbs shaking, cock twitching despite the discomfort. Izuku switches his hand to hold his waist, clutching both sides and digging his nails into the skin there so he can’t wiggle away even more than he already has.

He doesn’t even know how much is left to go, but he feels so full already and there’s something pressing very lightly against his prostate that sends sparks of pleasure up his cock. He can’t choose between the sensations, can’t figure out what he’s supposed to be feeling, and it’s all too much. Tears well into the corners of his eyes, and he scrunches his nose to avoid showing it.

When Izuku bottoms out, Katsuki feels the man’s thighs against his cheeks, and knows it’s all the way inside of him by the way he cries out and throws his head back.

“You did it…Kacchan, you did it.”

Katsuki breaks, letting out a harsh strained exhale that stops Izuku dead in his tracks.

“Ka-” He looks down only to finally notice the tears catching in the corners of his eyes, a wet trail streaming down his face as he blinks. It's just downhill from there.

“Oh my god, Kacchan are you okay? I hurt you didn't I, fuck, fuck, I'm so so sorry, I'm so sorry.” His eyes light up, bright and watery green as he whimpers.

“Stop that...god.” Katsuki whines, annoyed that he let himself show such a weakness.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please.” Katsuki tenses as Izuku leans further forward to hold his face, rubbing carefully over his jaw.

There’s really no point in denying it now, he thinks.

“…its too much.” Katsuki mutters reluctantly, hisses as his hole clenches.

“Easy, easy. It's all the way in, I promise it's not going any further. Take a deep breath, you’re okay. ” Izuku tries to comfort him again, and Katsuki doesn't know what to say. He wants it, needs it, but his body is screaming at him and his brain says it's too new and just too damn much.

Izuku's hands move to wrap under his shoulder blades, and he feels a familiar sensation, thumbs at the slope of his strained neck, massaging into them softly, but just enough to get him to breathe normally again. He keeps his eyes closed, letting the feeling settle his nerves.

“Deep breaths baby.” Izuku reminds, and melts him un-consensually to be treated so sweetly.

A few minutes go by, and he’s just pitifully cockwarming the oversized nerd on top of him at this point. But he doesn’t know what to do because the ache in his throat still threatens to make him cry. The discomfort starts to settle enough that he lets his body relax as it accommodates Izuku’s girth.

“I can pull out if you-”

“No, fuck, just—stop for a second.” He argues quickly, and they lay in another moment of silence. Izuku holds himself up effortlessly, propped up on his elbows and carefully watching him.

“ Can I ask…what helped? You know, other times?

It's really not as painful as Izuku might think, not as much as it is overstimulating. But he's overwhelmed for a reason the greenette has no clue about. And it’s one hell of a stupid lie.

“It's fine, I'm fucking fine.” He rattles.

“I really don't mind you talking about it if-”

“Izuku. Drop it and just—” Katsuki forcibly rolls his hips, causing himself to clench and growl at the intense tug of his sensitive skin. Both of them gasp, but he’s relieved when it no longer hurts to move.

Izuku hesitates, still unmoving despite his demands, and Katsuki knows he’s already growing suspicious by the way his eyes slit and brows furrow. They stare at each other wordlessly, curious and cautious.

“Kacchan…is this your first time?”

fuck.

“No.”

“Katsuki.”

“Izuku.” He toys back, the snide look on his face not as well received as he had hoped when Izuku frowns at him.

“Please, answer me.”

“Why the hell would that even matter.” He tries to argue. He can't lie to Izuku's face, not like he could before either, and he watches the man's expression drop and his eyes grow wide.

Katsuki lets out a frustrated sigh, but Izuku is already teary eyed and wrapping his arms around him tightly, refusing to put any space between them as his cock somehow goes even deeper inside him, making both of them shutter in surprise.

Katsuki was just starting to get used to the intensity, the deep thick feeling that carved him out in such a new way. The warmth that spreads through him was liberating.

But now Izuku knew and he’s gone and fucked it up.

He doesn't apologize, he doesn't feel like he has to until Izuku starts to ramble about it more.

“Why didn't you tell me? I was so rough with you.” The green haired man squeezes him tightly around the shoulders.

“What, like somehow being a virgin makes me weak?” Katsuki bites, turning his head away from Izuku shyly as the man whimpers.

Izuku tenses, and he feels it heavy against his slick walls, trying so hard not to react as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“No, Kacchan, it just makes you…” Izuku practically trembles. “It means I-”

He's cut off by another more confident roll of his own hips, followed by another needy moan from Izuku. He doesn’t think about it at first, but they stay in the same position for too long for it to be a problem. Izuku doesn’t pull out of him, and doesn't insist on the lie having deceived him.

Instead, he moans, and whines, and breathes hard into Katsuki’s neck, and gyrates into him at the slowest pace possible.

“That turns you on, doesn't it?” Katsuki realizes, and based on the shiver that rolls off Izuku's thighs, he's right.

“You love the thought of taking my first time don't you.”

Izuku whimpers above him, arms locking him deeper into their shared little coffin.

“I'm sorry.” Izuku rasps, and he pulls his hips back before Katsuki can object and stop him. His anxiety spikes when he feels everything shift and start to slowly pull out of him, like the whole thing was going to end in him remaining a damn virgin.

Naturally, that concept is already out the window, but his brain still threatens it like it's a reward falsely being taken from him.

But then Izuku ruts back into him. So deep in a way that sends a shrill of pleasure across his tummy and up his spine. The pain is gone, and he wraps his arms around Izuku’s neck on instinct when he starts to fuck him.

Izuku chants apologies as Katsuki braces against him, trying to stay conscious while the mass of Izuku’s cock barrels into his hole. The low drag of his hips starts to feel like bliss, finally.

And he gets it.

He fucking gets it.

Katsuki can't help the small gasps on each exhale, just like Izuku can't seem to stop the whimpering coming from his own lips.

“You're…god you're tight.” He watches Izuku bite his lip to stifle another moan, and his head falls forward, like he’s watching Katsuki cock bounce with each thrust.

“and pretty…” He adds shyly, and Katsuki doesn't have the willpower to scoff back because the minute he opens his mouth it's a low moan replacing any words he might have slurred instead.

All he can do is rock, back and forth in Izuku's arms as skin on skin echos and the bed frame creaks, low and lazy, methodically.

“And mine.” Izuku’s voice is so deep and soft he almost doesn't hear it as the words are mumbled into his shoulder.

He rolls his head to the side as Izuku greedily bites another hickey onto his throat, not even caring where it's placed.

“M’ not…yours.” He moans out weakly.

“Will you be?”

“What?” Katsuki huffs, out of breath.

“Please…” Izuku mutters. “I promise I'll be so good to you, all the time…so good. I'll kiss every inch of you, all over and I can cook and help you with reports and-”

“What?” He repeats with a bit more disbelief than last time, that this conversation was happening right the fuck now.

“I want you so so bad Kacchan. I'd give anything…everything…”

And he thought himself as the obsessed one…

“Prove it.” Katsuki blurts out without much thought.

It's Izuku's turn to question this time, “What?”

Less satisfied by the low drawl of hips, he smirks, turning his head to rest against Izuku's ear and whispers,

“Fuck me like I'm yours, then.” Katsuki slurs in a husky tone laced in pleasure.

Izuku picks his head back up, pupils dilated and breath stalled, looking at him with abandon before their lips crash together again.

Katsuki doesn't have time to realize what's happening as Izuku shifts a little, one leg being pulled up so it bends over the man's arm….and then the other. His head is so far pushed into the pillow already that he can't pull away from the kiss to object.

Izuku ruts back into him, hard, and he understands what seeing stars truly feels like, yelping like the wind had been kicked out of his chest.

He’s merciless, taking up the challenge like it’s nothing, fucking him hard. The head of his cock pounds against his prostate, and he’s clawing at Izuku’s back in abandon.

“I’m gonna come inside of you, Kacchan. You’re gonna take it all for me.” Izuku growls, and it’s so feral sounding it spikes a kind of fearful pleasure inside his abdomen.

His cock strains, tapping against his stomach in a quick rhythm, and Izuku doesn’t waste a second to grab and stroke him hard.

“Iz…wait, Deku, fuck, Izuku!” He calls, desperately.

He doesn’t remember the climb of his climax, only it hitting him like a flash flood. He’s gasping, his whole body shaking violently as waves of his orgasm shoot thick white cum onto his stomach, all over Izuku’s fingers as he strokes him through it.

He knows Izuku’s gone too by the way he cries out, curling into him with a few stalled thrusts. He feels warmth…so warm and tight and full.

A few minutes pass until they're both steadily breathing again, and he pays no attention to the way Izuku's body crushes his leg and chest because the blissed out expression on his face is that rewarding. His green curls have gone dark, matted to his face in a warm sweat, and there's not a single tense muscle on either of them.

Katsuki's lips curve, probably for the first time in a while, and he too closes his eyes, listening to Izuku breath and matching the way his chest rises and falls to his own.

He's already feeling the effects of sex, post nut clarity that was about the pain rather than embarrassment. The tendons between his legs are sore, naturally, and with the occasional pulse of Izuku's cock still inside of him, he's reminded just how big he really is. But Izuku holds him through it, sighing in a blissful pleasure each time his walls clench on their own. Izuku lets his body fall off of his chest, twisting them sideways slowly.

It's almost relaxing, still having Izuku inside of him, though the man clearly has other plans as he speaks up again.

“So are we dating now?”

It makes him laugh, actually laugh, and despite the implication, Izuku's face lights up.

“I'm being serious Kacchan!”

“All we did was have sex.” Katsuki tries to shrug his shoulders, but it makes their sweat-dressed skin slide together and he grimaces at the feeling.

“People usually wait till after they're in relationships to do that.” Izuku fights in a matter of factly tone.

“No, they don't.” Katsuki tries to persuade.

“Okay, then, will you date me?”

“No!”

“Kacchan.” Izuku whines, the golden retriever inside of him showing through.

“You're high.”

“I'm sober.”

“You're delusional.” Katsuki tries, a level above his intoxication claim for dramatic effect as Izuku grins at him.

“No, I'm just really really obsessed with you.”

Katsuki’s brows furrow, and the pink blush on Izuku's cheeks making it just that much more believable.

“I don't date fans.” His words are cautious this time, less and less convinced that this was some kind of joke.

Izuku has the audacity to act oblivious, “I don't even know you, who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

“This is my house idiot!!” Katsuki wrestles with him, lightly hitting his palms against Izuku's shoulders to push himself away and they thrash against each other, soft and playful. Just as softly though, Izuku pulls him back in, enough so he's laying ontop of his warmed body as they switch positions.

His instincts tell him to protest, because Izuku is all but cuddling him with his bulky broad arms and pecks, but this time it's not what he wanted at all.

He wanted this.

They let Izuku slip out naturally when he's gone soft enough, a small sigh accompanied by the feeling of emptiness inside him. Meanwhile, his heart decides between skipping a beat and beating too fast as the thought of having a boyfriend rattles him. But it didn't make any sense because he had been head over heels for the massage therapist since day one. The warmth of Izuku's dried skin luls him, as the weight of their day lingers over Katsuki in the form of sore limbs and tired eyes, just as the sun starts to turn the sky a dark blue.

“Let's get some sleep, Kacchan.” Izuku whispers to him, petting his hair softly, one hand palming into his back like he always does so damn well.

Oh, and he sleeps like a rock that night.

Chapter Text

The last thing Katsuki expected to walk into at his office the morning after, was chaos.

Absolute chaos.

Burnin and the other side kicks were straight up arguing inside the conference room across from his own, the glass paneling barely shielding their voices as papers scattered the large oval desk space and arms flew.

His secretary looks at him nervously as he stands there watching from the liaison’s desk, probably just as confused as he was.

“What the hell is this?” He points, and the man shys considerably with an incessant shrug.

Clearly, he knew something.

Katsuki groans, storming across the room towards everyone else. His legs are still a little wobbly, and there's a minor ache in his lower half, but it's considerably better than it had been two hours ago. Izuku had convinced him to go in late that day, after he got up for the first time and almost tumbled to the floor.

Neither of them had slept much, given that it was already four thirty in the morning by the time they were…done. Hell, Izuku was probably still sound asleep in his bed despite being called into the office too.

Katsuki realizes one thing for sure. That whatever it is, it must be related to the twenty two missed calls from Kirishima, three from his mother, and even one from Kaminari on his cell phone.

He opens the meeting room door swiftly, letting it swing wide open, and stands there befuddled in front of the group as they all turn towards him in unison.

Dead silence.

Half of them are cowering in fear as he raises his brows expectantly, and Burnin herself shoots him a wide eyed urgent expression. His hands go up next, when nobody speaks.

“What the fuck!” He yells, trying to get something out of them, even if it is just nervous glances and a few quiet remarks.

“You haven't heard?” Burnin speaks up, her expression turning more and more conflicted as he stands there tired and unamused.

“What, that you're late on two of your overview reports and fish brain over here fudged her numbers last week?”

He hears a squeak off to the side, but no one turns and Katsuki's gaze stays planted onto his side kick as she squints.

“I'll…be back, everyone.” She finally says, stomping around the table and exiting the room. He follows her across and into his office, keeping the unpleasant expression plastered to his face.

She sighs, pressing the edge of her palm to her temple, “There better be a very good reason you were late this morning that does not include sleeping with the intern.”

fuck

He slips, eyes going wide and a sense of anxiety rushes through him. His first thought was ‘who the hell snitched?’. But it's obviously a lot more than just snitching.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Katsuki growls, but she doesn't waver. She's not the kind of person to cower around him, and that's exactly why he special requested her transfer to his agency. But in times like this, he wishes she would, because he was running out of ideas on how to cover this up already and the conversation had just started.

“Did ya finally go deaf too? You know what I'm talking about Dynamight.”

“I really don't, idiot.” He scoffs.

She picks up the remote from the edge of his desk and points it towards the TV. He already knows what's coming, memories of the day prior flashing before his eyes in a way almost everyone at the restaurant saw. He didn't care in the moment, even when Izuku mentioned people staring he didn't think it meant everyone for fucks sake.

The news reporter on screen is halfway through her sentence by the time the sound kicks on.

“...unclear whether or not Pro Hero Dynamight and this mystery hero are an item, but multiple reports stated the two were seen out on patrol together after the fact. One of our standby news crews confirmed what appeared to be the two pro heros entering into a high rise apartment building from the balcony of-”

“Never once have you believed the media and this is the one you fall for??” He fights the volume of the report as she rambles on, only adding to his anger as Burnin gawks at him.

“He's the intern!” She hisses unpleasantly and his nose scrunches in response.

“He's not a damn intern, he's just training.”

“Okay then, did you fuck the trainee??”

“Fucking—” He starts, his hands driving deep into his hair as he stands there in cornered frustration. But thank god for Izuku, because he's nearly memorized the nerd's voice and if he was here, he'd be saying relax, Kacchan.

Deep breaths

“No, I didn't fuck the trainee.”

Her shoulders seem to drop in a false reassurance, her brow loosening sympathetically before he can stop his mouth from running.

“He fucked me, but that's private fucking information so leave it the hell alone.”

Her jaw drops, and it looks like all the blood has drained from her skin. It's…actually kind of funny.

“Are you…”

“He's not just some random guy I found out on the streets, alright? I've known him for a while.”

“That is half the problem. You know where we live right? Deku is…he’s..”

“What.” He barks.

“A man!” She hisses back at him.

“And I'm fucking gay, what did you seriously expect??”

“I know that, but the world doesn't yet, on your request. Did you forget rankings and approval ratings for the second quarter are being posted like…as we speak? The general public have no clue you’re anything but asexual and aromantic! Anytime something big like secret relationships get televised, fans go ballistic…and not always in a good way.”

“I don’t care, everyone’s already jealous of me anyways.”

“My point, Bakugou.”

He sighs again, heavy and ragged. Naturally, he didn't pay attention to that shit because he'd long passed the time to impress people. You either hated ‘Dynamight’ or you loved him. No inbetween and no second opinions.

“I'll just…pull a few stunt tricks next time I'm out. It's not that big of a fucking deal.” He sorts out verbally.

“Not that big of a fucking deal?? Are yo-”

“Um…guys?” Someone from the doorway calls quietly.

“What.” They both yell in unison, and it makes the man jump.

“You're gonna wanna see this.”

Katsuki groans obnoxiously, and the other pro hero just shuts her mouth, taking the rear as they leave the room and make another transfer back into the large conference room.

Quite frankly, he doesn't want to see whatever ‘this’ is, unless it's Izuku's ass.

Everyone was staring at the projection screen on the wall in dead silence, another reporter obnoxiously filling the room like static. Amongst her face, which annoyed him greatly, there was a list of hero names and each percentage of approval posted next to it.

Katsuki searched for his name, down in the teens where it usually was, and his heart drops.

Nothing.

He wasn't even on the damn board anymore…what the hell did that mean?

Regret eats at him when he realizes he had been wrong…he shouldn't have gone out with Izuku so publicly, he shouldn't have allowed them to take the suits out off the clock, he shouldn't have-

“Oh my god.” Burnin whispers, and he looks sideways at her to see a marveled expression painting her face. It's not fear or anger like he figured it would be, but more like…surprise? Happiness? Katsuki vows to fire her when this is all over for valuing his decline in approval.

“I'm leaving, tell ops to put me on patrol.” he grumbles, turning towards the door again, but she grabs his arm.

“Dynamight you…your approval rose nineteen percent. You're in the top ten.” She points.

Her words sounded foreign, and he can't even understand them for a second as his brain tries to process what they meant. If this was just some sick joke, he'd fire her right the fuck now instead.

But he turns his head, eyes back at the tv screen cautiously and sure enough, he's number 7, with a growth in approval at 19.3%.

His jaw drops, now matching everyone else in the room as they all gawk at the TV. But the ranking screen quickly closes and the media move on to another headline about him and Deku.

“Who has the remote, rewind that shit.” He demands frantically, because he still can't believe it.

And then, with flawless, impeccable timing, the door opens again.

“Sorry I'm late everyone! But I brought-”

He knows that voice like it's his own, he doesn't even have to turn around.

Izuku's happy aura is quick to fade as he inserts himself into the packed conference room. The same room that is actively playing through the news story of “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight’s Secret Love Affair?”

Well, now they're all staring at Izuku and him.

Katsuki turns his head, and the look of shock on the nerd's face is almost a relief. He hadn't been the only one, at least.

“A-actually, I think I left my lunch box in the elevator…so, um, e-excuse me…” Izuku stutters.

Eyes peer his way, ogling the pair before Izuku can slip out of the room completely, and Katsuki immediately follows out after him.

He’s already inside Katsuki’s office—apparently a safe haven in all of this—when they make eye contact. Katsuki's hands slip behind himself to shut the door this time. Izuku looks at him nervously, hands clasped over his mouth.

“Deku, it’s fine.”

“I’m so so sorry Ka-“

“I said it’s fine! Chill the fuck out.”

Izuku sighs, leaning back against his desk. “So… everyone knows.”

“It’s all rumors, nobody knows shit…but, my approval rating went up.”

“It did??” Izuku gleams in shock, and this time it's a bit more optimistic.

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“Kacchan that's…that's amazing! It makes sense now. I got a call from Ochako…she said they’re going nuts, people trying to book left and right.”

Katsuki had forgotten about his hero name being the same as his pen name at the shop, and despite it implying negative consequences, he didn't seem worried.

Katsuki huffs a small laugh. “Welcome to being famous, nerd.”

Izuku smiles at him, half assed like he’s still a bit freaked out. “So…what now?”

“Deny it all.” Katsuki shrugs, and it's comical how quickly Izuku's expression turns into a pout.

“I'm messing with you, nerd. I've got a PR team for this shit, they'll figure it out.”

And they do figure it out, signing Katsuki for loads and loads of interviews. Despite his protests.

People like Deku.

That part was obvious by the way his name was trending online for the next few days straight.

They're even snagged to do a few interviews throughout the week together, Deku a shimmering diamond next to his best impression of kimberlite. But despite the attention, his PR team has given them strict orders on not revealing any relationship details. Keep it obscure for now, since the fan base is speculating already and it's gaining the ‘right kind of attention.’

Sometimes the attention was nice, and other times it was downright unmanageable.

After a fairly quick arrest on a bland Tuesday afternoon weeks later, reports swarmed them unannounced. Microphones shoved every which way and camera clicks galore as people forced their way forward to get a good shot.

He's used to it by now, but he's not so sure about Deku, who nervously fidgets with his fingers beside him.

“So, Deku, as one of Dynamight's newest sidekicks, how does it feel to join the big leagues?”

“It’s good! I think I-“

“Everyone’s dying to know who asked who, how would you answer that hero Deku?”

“Oh, I, um-“

“Tell us about your quirk!!”

Izuku pauses, and Katsuki swears he hears him hold his breath. The nerd has steady eyes, and his lips quiver slightly like he wants to say something. But before Katsuki can yell at the reporters for asking stupid questions, he answers.

“I don’t have one, actually.” Izuku replies in a cheery tone, and things immediately start to quiet down around them. The reporters all seem confused, clearly dumbfounded by the way they look around each other.

“Oi. You losers done now?”

“Dynamight sir, tell us about your choice in picking someone quirkless to be signed into your agency.”

“The hell kind of question is-”

“Have you had a change of heart about your previous stance on quirkless heros?”

He thinks he hears someone in the crowd ask if it’s a joke, and it's suddenly that much easier to speak.

“Deku could easily rank four in the top charts, even without a quirk. You don’t need one to be strong, resilient, or confident. He’s on my team because he’s passionate about hero work, unlike most of the deadbeats out there who do it for power or a paycheck. So you best show him some damn respect or I'll blast you all to hell.”

Silence.

“Now scram, extras.” Katsuki barks, grabbing Izuku’s hand and using his palms to blast the two of them off the ground of now frantic reporters. Izuku is quick to follow, activating the suit to push him further into the sky and he's laughing loudly when they reach the nearest rooftop, open mouthed and genuine.

Katsuki groans dramatically in the opposite manner, readjusting his gauntlets.

“Kacchan that was mean!” Izuku snickers, clearly not as upset by it as he was amused.

“I’m mean, how the hell are you just now realizing that?”

Katsuki peers over the edge, people scurrying around and back into their vehicles as the smoke from his quirk disperses. He can see a purple haze to it too, probably from Izuku’s suit.

The laughing dies down, but he suddenly hears a wet sniffle, turning back to see Izuku in tears. God this man was an emotional rollercoaster.

“Deku.”

He walks towards Izuku, concerned.

“It’s okay! I’m okay,” Izuku waves him off. “I just….wow. I never thought you’d say something like that. Thank you.”

“Yeah…whatever.” Katsuki tries to hide the way it makes him feel like he's being praised.

Izuku just smiles at him, like it's his favorite thing to do. Katsuki hopes it is.

“Fuuuck my back.” He yelps, twisting and rubbing below his shoulder blade as it suddenly shoots pain through his waist.

“Kacchan, I think you should take it easy today.” Izuku encourages, quickly moving to stand beside him with one hand against his lower back to support. Katsuki doesn't push him away.

“S’ not my fault. My massage therapist has been out of town…doing stupid shit.” Katsuki grumbles, and it's obviously geared in Izuku's direction though they both treat it as a joke.

“Actually, I’ve got an opening coming up here…if you want to book it.” Izuku grins at him, and it's only a little less than suggestive.

“Fine. But this time, no holding back on me.” He holds out his gloved hand.

“Deal.” Izuku shakes on it with dark eyes and a soft smile. “But it's been quite a while since I've had you in, Dynamight. Might have to stretch you out a bit beforehand.”

Katsuki is about to retort, scold him for such a dirty joke but instead, he just stares.

Not at Izuku…

At the massive seven foot power house that now stands behind him. Katsuki sees him right away, and looks back down at Izuku to grin like a damn idiot.

“Oh you are so gonna shit yourself Deku.”

Izuku's face scrunches up funny, clearly not aware of the hero that is looming over his shoulder. “Kacchan, that's gross. I am not into that.”

But at the same time, he realizes how bad of an idea a surprise visit really was when he keeps talking.

“Deku, wai-”

“I know I’m kind of kinky, but everyone’s got limits. Though if we had easy access to a bathtub I might be interested in the other…”

“Izuku turn the fuck around.” Katsuki smashes a palm to his face in embarrassment while Izuku loses his mind.

Deku does admit later on that he did, in fact, pee himself a little the first time he met All Might.

✦

Katsuki gets a text message about a package delivery the next morning, and he stumbles out into his living room to locate it.

It’s on the balcony, of all places, and it’s signed by Izuku with a green little bow attached. Of fucking course it was.

There’s a note in it requesting him to wear what’s bundled and wrapped inside, saying it was his promise to “not go easy on him” and Katsuki already knows this is a bad idea before opening the box.

But he does it anyway, like any good boyfriend would.

✦

Seeing hero Deku is always the best part of his day, but seeing massage therapist Deku is probably tied for first place or even a close second. He was never late to his sessions, and he still paid Izuku extra despite their complaints…well, Ochako wasn't complaining at least. She even offered the two of them their original space as a private room. Katsuki didn't want to be treated differently, but Izuku was happy with the idea of a more clean and closed off space. No one else but them ever.

Now, he understood why.

Katsuki lays himself stomach down on the familiar padded table inside a room he's grown accustomed to in his spare time.

He's naked, completely, as part of Izuku's request had him face down and ass out on his massage bench in the infamous room 7.

And that was only half of the request.

He shifts slightly, trying to make himself comfortable, but the stimulation inside him causes his legs to stir every few minutes.

God, he was taking forever.

Katsuki crosses his arms underneath his chin, sitting there wiggling his toes bored as hell and eager to know what the green haired massage therapist had up his sleeve.

Izuku walks in with a quiet announcement, slippers clicking as he makes his way over to Katsuki on the massage table.

“Hi Kacchan.” Izuku sings happily, and Katsuki rolls his eyes. He'd be happy too, if he got to see the other spread out nude in his place of work all the time.

“This better be the best damn massage of my life.” He grumbles in an empty threat.

Izuku giggles and his fingers brush against Katsuki's waist in a slow trail up his body.

“You told me not to hold back, remember?” Palms trace over his shoulder blade, and he tenses slightly.

“Yeah like, a massage, not like….this.” He hisses when shifting his hips causes the small bulb inside him to move.

“Like what?”

“Idiot…acting like you don’t know.”

Of course he knows, and they both knew just how excited Izuku got when he could be less discreet about this kind of stuff. Sure, it's not out in the open, but it's still in public and very suggestive. Izuku just wouldn’t admit how much of a voyeur he was.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your massage.” Izuku promises.

And he does, his body singing in a dull relieved pain as Izuku rubs into his back, stretching his muscles and taut skin. He even gets special treatment, Izuku choosing prewarmed coconut oil and letting the thick liquid all over his skin. Even that is an amazing feeling, the wet roll of it down his spine, the way Izuku’s hands glide easily around his thighs when he’s had enough on his back.

“Kacchan?”

“Mm” Katsuki waits, resting against his forearms.

“Remember that day you came in, and you got on your knees and propped that pretty ass up for me?” Izuku retells.

Katsuki’s face heats, because yeah, he fucking remembers.

“Why.”

“I think you know what I want.” He practically feels the grin on Izuku’s face.

There’s a split second of time where he’s unsure, but the massage therapist is quick to clarify.

“On your knees, Kacchan.” He gets a quick slap to the back part of his upper thigh, and it makes him grunt and turn a shocked expression towards the other.

“Izuku.” He tries to object.

“Katsuki.” Izuku toys back.

Katsuki wants to be furious, wants to protest like usual, but he just can’t manage it with the way his body begs after being teased and stimulated for damn near hours.

“Fuck.” He curses, giving in.

He uses his arms as leverage, the left side of his body coming up first and the right following as he brings his hips down and his thighs up. It’s a reminder of the heavy metal inside him, and he huffs in embarrassment when his position shifts it upwards.

Izuku hums, an approval of sorts. Katsuki keeps his arms crossed in front of his face to avoid knowing where the massage therapist was looking.

“Pretty.” Izuku murmurs.

He wiggles a little, trying to get comfortable against the cushions again in his new position. That, or he’s just anxious…but whatever it was, it was starting to become unbearable under eager and quiet eyes.

“Deku would you just-“ Katsuki stops when he feels a soft slightly wet sensation on his thigh. He didn’t know what Izuku was planning to do, until two hands grip the sides of his legs and another plush sensation tickles his inner thigh again.

His legs tense at the sensation, and he squeezes his hands tighter when the feeling moves, up and into the crease between his ass and thighs. It’s so soft and overly sweet, because Izuku is kissing him like he’s made of glass again and it's the one thing that makes him overstimulated.

“Green does suit you.” Izuku murmurs, against his body, right before he bites the sensitive inner skin of his ass and making him jump. Blunt teeth dig into him, replaced by a tongue as the skin is sucked in between Izuku’s lips forcefully.

He’s talking about the small diamond like crystal that sat on the back of the plug, sticking out of him. But Katsuki thinks it means something else entirely too.

“Izuku..” Katsuki calls again, and this time it's a needy request.

“M’ sorry…but your old ones were starting to fade.” Izuku remarks, like he misses the way Katsuki’s thighs were littered in bruises and bite marks last weekend. It was too good of a sensation to pass up, of course, so he didn’t fight it. Pain was always pleasant under experienced hands and teeth. So, he let Izuku mark him in his favorite ways. Maybe because after a long week he desperately desired some kind of release.

Or maybe, just because he wanted it.

“You did so well at the office today, having this inside you the whole time.” Izuku continues, and of course he goes back into hiding at the embarrassment of it all. Izuku loved to catch him flustered.

“But I could tell…I could see it on your face every time you got out of that chair. Every jump and twist.”

“Pervert” Katsuki scoffs, knowing damn well it was true. Izuku gave him side eyes all day long, even dropped his pen in favor of seeing the way Katsuki’s nose scrunched when he bent down to pick it up.

“So…this, is your reward.”

Izuku presses a flat palm into the base of the plug, and Katsuki inhales sharply on a soft moan as he feels the metal shift inside him, the thicker portion of it pressing right into his prostate and making his legs shake.

“Shit.” Katsuki mutters, knowing damn well that that wasn’t his reward. It wasn’t even the beginning of it. But whatever Izuku had in mind, he might never be able to guess.

Izuku takes the plug by the base and rotates it, tugging in the opposite direction this time, which still makes him keen and grasp at the edge of the table. His cock twitches between his legs, hanging there unoccupied and already half hard. Izuku doesn’t seem to pay any attention to it though, staying focused on the weight of the plug that he rolls around between his fingers.

“Does this feel good?” Izuku asks innocently, somehow.

“Mmm..” is all Katsuki can muster up, mouth still pressed tightly together in defiance. But that doesn’t last long either.

“Hm?” Izuku mimics, more of a question than a response. “Use your words Kacchan.”

He was wrong to think he’d get away with improper answers tonight.

“Yes, sir.” Katsuki mutters.

“That’s better.” Izuku replies happily, and Katsuki just knows a devious cocky grin is plastered to his cute freckled cheeks right now.

But once Izuku actually starts to pull at the jeweled base of the plug, he wobbles, his whole body tensing up when the thing presses flush to his rim from the inside, sitting snug behind the tight hole that kept it locked in place for hours.

“Baby.” Izuku responds, like it’s a protest.

“It’s fucking big Izuku!” He argues back, unsuccessful at willing his body to destress. “What do you expect…”

“I know, I know. Just try to relax…it’ll feel better that way, I promise.”

Katsuki whines in a low toned grumble from deep in his throat as he grips the edge of the cushion and starts to relax his thighs and stomach. Izuku’s free hand helps his body stay steady when he starts to pull again.

Katsuki breaths deep, trying not to clench again while it starts to breach his rim. Deep breaths, in and out, giving into the stretching sensation.

“That’s it…there you go.” Izuku praises, only making it worse, but the plug finally pops free with a slick sound and he gasps at the emptiness.

The feeling was completely foreign, but the emptiness inside his stretched hole was undeniable. He lets out a needy breath, hearing the plug clink against the desk stand beside them.

“Good boy Kacchan.” Izuku purrs, and fuck does it make him wobble.

Katsuki expects to get fucked, closing his eyes and waiting for fingers to prod and poke at him again, but Izuku's free hand returns to the bottom of Katsuki’s thighs to hold him there, just as the other was.

But both hands meant…

Izuku’s lips pressed against his ass, a bit closer to his hole than they had before, as Katsuki started to realize what was happening.

“Izu-“ he tries to interject, but Izuku already has his lips pressed right above his hole, and it makes him whine.

“Colors.” Izuku whispers, and he feels the hot air against his slick entrance.

“Green.” Katsuki recites easily. Ever since they’d started to experiment, things had been either very consensual or it didn’t happen at all. Izuku insisted on the color system, because Katsuki was admittedly bad with safe words, hoping it would let them explore the proper way or whatever.

He doesn't respond, only takes Katsuki's legs in his arms, wrapping them up tightly, and kissing right against his hole.

Katsuki's back arches subconsciously, despite trying not to show interest, and he moans a little too audibly.

But when Izuku's flattened tongue licks a straight line up, covering his entire rim, he knows it's game over…and when Izuku responds with a muffled moan, it’s really game over.

“Fuck.” He hisses when he's left open and wet, while Izuku stares between his legs. It's embarrassing, even more than sex, but the therapist is diving back in and lapping at his sensitive skin quick enough, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper as he forces it inside his hole.

Katsuki is fuming, but he's so horny it doesn't even matter that he's embarrassed and angry about it.

“Give in to me.” Izuku murmurs, right as Katsuki feels fingers brushing against his cock, leaving a wet line of oil over that too. “Let me make you feel good.”

Katsuki whines when they do nothing more than linger against his length, petting lazily as it sways between his thighs.

“Fuck, please…” Katsuki groans.

“Tell me what you need, Kacchan.”

It's not even a question, or a thought, or a consideration. He's hot, his body quickly accumulating sweat as he's pressed against the leather. Everything feels surreal, his thighs twitching and cock pulsing as he’s toyed with. Yet even like this, naked and presented on display for a man he'd known for less than a year, it felt like everything he'd ever wanted. Everything he didn’t know he needed. It felt like he'd known Izuku his entire life, like this was supposed to happen. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew Izuku felt it too.

So with a needy curse and a low moan, he tells Izuku exactly what he needs.

“Touch me.”