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Izuku collapses against the door, forehead to wood, and listens as their friends bicker and laugh all the way down the hall to the elevator. The doors ding, slide open, and then close, slowly shutting away their bright voices.
That leaves him alone in the apartment with Katsuki at his back. The tension is thick enough to chew through.
“Did you time that deliberately?” Izuku says into the door, voice thin.
Katsuki scoffs from the general vicinity of the couch, mean and sour. It makes something unpleasant twist in Izuku’s stomach.
“You’ve been an asshole all day, what’s the problem?” Izuku gets fed up with Katsuki’s attitude, setting their bowls of chips and popcorn down with a too loud clack. “It’s our friends, you know, our old classmates and current coworkers?”
“How do I know you’re not fucking one of them?!” Katsuki snapped, right in the instant that Izuku’s phone vibrates with their apartment building’s door buzzer. So shocked by the vitriol that Katsuki just flung his way, scrambling because…what, he…what?! Izuku doesn’t react to the phone even as it rattles its way across their coffee table. With a sneer, Katsuki reached over and answered it himself, fingers quickly pressing nine. The look in his red eyes is unreadable, and foreign.
They only have two minutes, at most, before all their friends arrive for game night and yet Izuku already wants to scream at them to leave.
Katsuki doesn’t answer him, and it makes Izuku’s hands clench into fists. He takes his head away from the door, the ball of hot emotion in his chest making him move quick and angry as he heads to their little living room. Katsuki’s on his back on the couch, arms crossed, eyes on the ceiling.
The fact he’s not even looking at him pisses Izuku off more.
“No, Katsuki, what the fuck?” Izuku barks, standing there in the living room they share and have shared for over two years. “You, you accuse me of cheating with one of our friends right before we have to spend hours with them?” And he’d been off all night, short and brooding. Katsuki hadn’t seemed to have trouble pretending, for all that he barely spoke and didn’t laugh. Twice Todoroki had asked with a low voice whether everything was alright, and Izuku hadn’t even known what to tell him.
Katsuki’s fingers tighten where they hold his own arms.
“I said what I fucking said.” He responds, eyes still on the ceiling. The twist of his lips is bitter, and Izuku just doesn’t understand. Where is this coming from? “And you never even answered me, huh?”
“Because it was a stupid question.” Izuku replies, heart pounding. He feels on the verge of something, or that something very terrible was on its way.
“Stupid.” Katsuki repeats, sitting up and glaring. “I’m stupid, then?”
“No.” He bites back. “Of course not. But you’re not usually this petty.” He wants to reach out to Kacchan, grab him, shake him maybe, but he knows from the trembling line of the other’s body that if he did, he’d be blasted through a wall.
“It’s petty then to care that my partner doesn’t give two shits about me?” Katsuki returns, standing, arms flinging out. “It’s petty to want some fucking answers? Why are you still here then, Deku, if you’re gonna fucking leave then leave!”
“I don’t want to leave, I want to know what’s going on!” Izuku shouts back. “But I will leave if it gives you some, some damn clarity!”
“Then do it.” Katsuki hisses, savage and unfamiliar. “Break up with me then, if that’s what you want, because I am fucking done!”
And Izuku’s stomach swoops, settling with a half-ton weight in the bottom and dragging the entirety of him down and down and down. The space of their apartment seems wrong now, misshapen. Every good memory and good feeling they’d built within these walls seemed on hold, thrown up into the air and waiting to see whether they’ll be caught on the way down or left to shatter into pieces. Izuku very deliberately takes a deep breath.
He swallows.
“Kacchan, you are breaking my heart right now,” Izuku’s bottom lip trembles but he’s not sure if it’s in anger or hurt, “What’s wrong?”
“Why should I fucking care?” Katsuki snarls, distorted. “Hero Deku has everything he’s ever wanted, boo-fucking-hoo.” And the way he says Deku is exactly the way he used to when they were children and everything between them was red hot and bleeding. Like he believes it. Worthless.
It spears right into Izuku, and he’s shocked to find himself close to the same shamed, bitter tears that middle school him would have been swallowing back.
“You said that just to hurt me.” Izuku says, too open, too vulnerable. The world was falling out from under his feet. Usually when he felt like this, Katsuki was the one ready to catch him, to help him find solid ground again. Now, it was like he was watching Izuku fall, uncaring, pushing him off the ledge.
Chest heaving, Katsuki’s face finally, finally cracks from its unreadable anger.
His lips twist, his eyes well. He claps his hand to his face and rubs, shakily breathing in the same sequence Izuku recognizes; four in, four held, four out. He's focusing on something. He's working through something, stopping himself before he goes too far.
“Kacchan, please,” Izuku whimpers, broken apart and wishing desperately for some kind of solace. For Kacchan to make it alright, even though he’s the one to caused Izuku’s turmoil.
“Shh, shut up,” Katsuki says, but this time it’s not mean, just exhausted and hurt. Why did he hurt? What has Izuku done? “I didn’t mean half of that, but I, I, I need to talk. Communicate. We’re gonna fucking, communicate, alright?” There’s still anger there, but it’s collapsed under the weight of uncertainty, run out. Izuku used to think Katsuki’s anger was bottomless, but he’d found in the two years they’ve been dating, loving one another, that only one thing could sap Katsuki of his prickly defenses. That was loving Izuku with his whole heart.
Izuku had never realized how deeply their relationship had changed until this moment. This is no friendship level hurt. This is no long-time familiarity problem. This is important, and real, and something they need to uncover and fix.
“Okay,” Izuku says, rasping, and he makes the mistake of taking a step forward, hands outstretched.
“No!” Katsuki snaps, stepping away. Izuku’s heart twists more, and he thinks this time it ripped open entirely. “No, just. Sit. Sit down.”
Izuku sits. Collapses, really, but he’s greedily drinking in the way Katsuki was bringing himself back. His Kacchan, not the man who’d been standing there only moments ago who Izuku had no idea how to handle.
“We need water.” Katsuki mutters, and escapes to the kitchen. The time where he clinks glasses around, settling himself, allows Izuku to get his own hands to stop shaking. Communicate.
They know how to do that. They’ve done it before. Usually it was much more civil though, and usually it was Izuku bringing it up.
In the kitchen, Katsuki lets the water run over his fingers and waits for it to turn cold, then waits a little longer just to give himself more time. His eyes glaze, staring through space into the past when Izuku had so easily brought up his concerns.
“Kacchan, can we have a talk? A serious talk. It’s not a bad one, I just want to go over what I can and can’t listen to at home. I love the way we argue and stuff, you know? But some days I just can’t handle being called an idiot when I’m at home and decompressing. I’m too sensitive on the bad days, and I take your words too personally when I know you don’t mean it. Let’s work on it okay?”
“Kacchan, talk-talk wise, I noticed you shut down when we’re out with my friends specifically, what’s happening to make you so quiet? Did someone say something? Am I doing something to make you uncomfortable?”
“Kacchan, serious talk, I love you but please, please try not to get so angry at me for household stuff. I know I don’t clean to your standards, and I try to, I do, but I feel like shit when I can’t measure up to how you want it. I don’t clean the cupboards unless I notice they’re dirty. I can do all my best to remember to do it without being asked because you shouldn’t have to ask me to do things, but please meet me where I am.”
How does he do it so well? Instead, Katsuki’s been suffering for weeks because he’s been letting this hurt brew and fester and it wasn’t even…fuck, he wasn’t even all that concerned about Izuku cheating, that had just been what he blurted out and then he’d had to run with it and…
Izuku’s scarred hands take the glasses and gently, so gently, move Katsuki’s hand out from under the frigid water. It’s numb. He fills the glasses and turns off the tap. Katsuki doesn’t turn to him, but he’s a hundred and eleven percent aware of his presence.
Carefully, Izuku presses his forehead to his shoulder from behind. He doesn’t hug him, which Katsuki is grateful for, but the intimate touch does wonders for Katsuki’s self-composure.
“We’re gonna be okay.” Izuku says into his nape, and Katsuki chokes on what anyone else would say is laugh but just feels like hacking up a hairball.
“You know that?”
“…yeah. I do.” Izuku says, and while it’s not certain, it’s hopeful. Fragile. “Let’s sit down?”
“Mn.”
There’s a long moment between them, as Izuku sips at his water and Katsuki chugs the first half of it. Staring at where the condensation starts building on the outside, Katsuki orders his thoughts. And, more importantly, to gather the courage needed.
“Don’t interrupt me. It’ll just cause another fight.” Katsuki mutters, rubbing a rough hand over his face. He feels like a bitch, a stupid, petty bitch, for how he’d behaved all night. He needed to… “I’m—I’m sorry. For how I treated you, earlier, and just now.”
Izuku swallows audibly.
“But I don’t know what to do about it, D-Izuku.” His voice breaks. God, he’s so fucking stupid. “I don’t really think you’re cheating on me, but you’ve been, I….”
God, how did Izuku phrase it, ages and ages ago when they were getting together and Katsuki was the confident one, the secure one.
“I’m insecure. You’ve been drifting away for several months. You don’t talk to me about work anymore, you come home and you’re tired, or busy, or pressured, or overworked and I can’t, or shouldn’t burden you more.”
Izuku’s hand had impulsively reached out to him, but Izuku quickly stuffs it between his thighs, face collapsing. He was trying so hard not to interrupt, it actually makes Katsuki snort. He looks like he’s literally suffering keeping it in.
“What?” Katsuki asks, “out with it.”
“Lots of things, but, uhm,” Izuku swallows, breathing it all out and green eyes focusing so hard on Katsuki he feels stripped bare. “What are you seeing me do? The physical or verbal specifics, I want to know what it is that’s making you feel this way. I also want to reassure you, and I love you, I love you, but I know you’re not finished.” Izuku hiccups, but admirably doesn’t start crying.
Good, because Katsuki’s eyes feet hot and he’s not ready to cry yet until he’s good and well done getting all this shit off his chest. I love you. That...fuck. To buy himself time, Katsuki covers his face with both hands, elbows on his knees.
Specifics.
“Your texts aren’t the rambles I used to get. You would go on rants, spam text me and even though I said it was annoying, it was so damn reassuring to know you wanted me to know all that shit. You don’t do that anymore.” Katsuki licks his lips, thinking, because that was the first thing he’d noticed, and the others are harder to pin down. “When we would have a day off like this, like today, you’d spend every moment getting in my way, holding onto me. We’d shower together and it would be mostly making out. Now it’s like it’s a chore, just getting in, getting clean, and getting out. You give me…pecks, you kiss like a fucking bird and it’s a stupid thing to complain about when I think about it—"
“It’s not, it’s not stupid,” Izuku mumbles tightly, Katsuki absorbing the words but not stopping his own verbal vomit.
“—but they’re dismissive like you’re just kissing to get me quiet and so you can leave quicker.” He calms his breathing a bit, because bringing all this up felt entirely like he was baring his chest to Izuku, showing off his scars, then digging into them with a sharp knife. “I thought you were getting sick of me.”
Now this is where his own voice gets tight, strangled, because he’s fighting to say it passed all his pride, dignity, and desperate, tearing love for Izuku clogging his throat.
“Kacchan—”
“Sh-shut up. I’m not done.” He sniffs, angry at himself, at his body for being so weak as to try and cry in the middle of this. “I don’t know if I thought you were just getting over it, me, that this is the natural way things like this, our---our relationship, ends, or if you were deliberately weaning me off so you could leave. If there was someone else. Cause you don’t talk to me about things anymore, and what else can it be than you’re telling all that to someone else?” Katsuki’s gotten it out. It feels like lancing a boil then squeezing the fucker for its juices, but it’s out.
“I, just…” How does he stop when he’s gotten started? “Where have you been, Izuku?” And, damn, there it goes. His eyesight blurs from behind tears, ugly ones that morph his face and pinken his cheeks and turn him ugly.
Izuku’s in front of him immediately, kneeling, and bullies his way into Katsuki’s arms. He hates himself, but he clutches back so tightly, like if he just holds on well enough this will all be over with without anymore goddamn pain.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan, I’m sorry—” Izuku blubbers, capturing Katsuki’s hands and bringing them to his mouth to kiss. It’s absurd how comforting it is. “I’m not leaving you, I’m not cheating, it’s this job, I hate it, Kacchan and I’ve been trying to deal with it for our sake but I’ve just made you feel, feel so alienated. I’m so sorry!”
The job.
The job?!
“Your new job?” Katsuki asks tentatively. He’s confused. Izuku’s new job that he started some three months ago at a more reputable agency with a lot more responsibility and duties than their original agency. Its not All Might’s agency, nor any hero they’ve worked with before but this one did such important work regarding humanizing the commission, with ethics committees and organizational sway that Izuku was putting his hands in. Symbol of Hope and all.
It was busier than his old job.
“Yes.” Izuku wipes his face with his forearm and backs up into his small seat, dragging it closer so he doesn’t have to let go of Katsuki’s hand. “It’s…I hate it Kacchan.” He whispers it, like he’s confessing some crime. “There’s so much red tape, everything takes so much time and there’s so many approvals to wait for and get, and all the changes each committee suggests are stupid, worthless little details that have no meaning in the real world but nobody actually wants to sit down and follow through on it. It’s like, I’m wasting my time trying. But it’s such a big step forward for me and my career, and you were so proud of me, I couldn’t even begin talking about it.” Izuku’s smile is miserable and wobbly.
Katsuki is still buffering. So Izuku continues on.
“I have so much on my work to do list it’s all I’ve been thinking about. When I come home, we use to talk about work all the time, but now I feel like I don’t do any good work, like patrolling or fighting villains or saving people, so I don’t have anything good to talk about.” Izuku rubs his watering eyes again, shaking his head. “You’ve been feeling this way and all I’ve been worried about is trying to get last year’s projects into the lineup before fiscal year end and that’s worthless in comparison--”
“It’s just the job?” Katsuki interrupts, unwilling to believe that’s all it is. The job does sound stupid, and when Izuku had gotten it, they’d celebrated, saw it as the opportunity to change the world like it should have been.
If he’d known this was what the job was actually about, Katsuki would have told him to quit months ago.
Izuku hesitates.
And Katsuki latches on. His heart falls.
“There’s something else.”
Izuku chews his lips and rubs his thumb over Katsuki’s knuckles. He has the audacity to chuckle. Ready to flay into him, to snap and chew and worry at it, Katsuki is stunned speechless when Izuku takes a ring out of his pocket.
It’s nothing special. Just a black band, some kind of dark metal. They don’t even wear rings; their quirks were too volatile.
“I didn’t want to propose when I was failing at the job I thought was my end goal. Silly, huh?” Izuku’s half smile is self-deprecating. “I didn’t even know if you wanted me to propose, if you want to get married.”
“You fucking idiot.” Katsuki says tightly through a sudden storm of tears. “I was going to marry you first.”
Izuku’s shoulders relax and he laughs into his elbow. He’s still holding the ring in that hand, his other clutching tight to Katsuki’s.
Katsuki wonders it would be too gauche to snatch the fucking ring out of Izuku’s hand right that instant but figures he can wait. There’s more important things than figuring out marriage on top of this shit tonight.
“So, you’re not breaking up with me?” Katsuki asks, just to be damn sure and he’ll hate himself later for the weakness in his voice but he needs to ask.
“No, Kacchan. Never.” Izuku’s reply is firm, true, and such a relief, Katsuki looks at his fears and feels like he can laugh at them.
He feels unmoored now, without that heavy weight hanging over his head.
“Good. You piece of shit. Don’t do that to me ever again. Asshole.” Katsuki demands with more of his usual gruffness. It feels good to gather his personality around himself again. Feels good to half-joke around about the thing that had nearly crippled him. Them.
“I love you.” He says it like he always says it, like it was an accusation, or a command. Throwing it at Izuku so he could deal with it and it wouldn’t sit in Katsuki’s chest any longer. At least, until the next one grows, sheltered and safe like a rose inside the center of a thornbush.
“You got it Kacchan. If I do, just smack me and tell me I’m being stupid. I love you, too. So much.” Izuku promises, and he’s smiling through his wet face and it’s comforting to kiss him and taste salt.
They kiss like idiots for a while, Izuku still half crouching before him, Katsuki clutching tightly to his shoulders like he’s trying to run away.
And then the exhaustion hits. It was already late when everyone left, so here they were after the most difficult talk they’ve ever had and utterly drained because of it.
“Leave the dishes,” Katsuki says tiredly, yanking on Izuku when he seems about to clear up. “We can do it tomorrow.” Izuku follows him to the bathroom, biddable and rung dry. He’s calling in sick tomorrow and maybe even the next day. And if he has anything to say about it, so is the nerd.
They ready for bed with the ease of long-time partners, but never go further than arm’s length. Izuku brushes his teeth in half the time it takes Katsuki to, so he stands there and waits while Katsuki contemplatively focuses on each single tooth one at a time. Izuku sets The Ring on the bathroom counter, an innocent little circle that Katsuki tries to melt with his gaze.
The nerd even reaches out and pets one slow, gentle hand down Katsuki’s back, then up to his neck to clasp him. It’s comforting. If he had any left, tears would have sprung to Katsuki’s eyes. As it is, he spits the rest of his toothpaste foam, drops his brush in the holder with Izuku’s, and wraps his arms around the nerd. The green head immediately burrows into his shoulder, wrapping up Katsuki’s middle with his arms, and they stand there in quiet silence for a long while.
Katsuki cleans off his wet tooth-pastey mouth on the fabric of Izuku’s shirt. The nerd makes a noise of disgust, but Katsuki merely sniffs. The nerd can suffer Katsuki’s displeasure until he feels less slighted, heart nearly getting broken and all. Then he shoves them both out the door, absolutely done with being awake.
To his credit, Izuku thought they would have both fallen straight to sleep.
He lays in the dark-sheeted bed, all the lights off, their black out curtains closed. And his eyes are wide open, tracing the dim rectangle of light that comes from the city outside. His mind is exhausted, and yet it’s still mulling on Kacchan’s voice, his confessions, his hurts.
And Kacchan, breathing next to him into the dark, very clearly wasn’t asleep either.
Izuku stares so long into the dark he starts seeing it move. It shifts and shapes and flows in front of him, and even though it’s all just black, he see’s Katsuki and himself and their life and their future all mashed together the way it’s been for decades.
After what felt like hours but was in truth only about thirty minutes, Izuku rolls onto his side and stares into the part of darkness that holds Kacchan.
“Do you want to have sex?” He asks, a curious mix of trepidation and arousal turning over in his stomach.
A beat of quiet.
“Yes.”
Oh, thank god. Kacchan sounds interested, disgruntled, annoyed, and entirely himself. Breathing out in a huge rush, Izuku immediately shuffles closer, curling a knee up and over Katsuki’s legs, putting his mouth to his shoulder to kiss through his sleep shirt, grabbing him at him greedily just to feel his density. Katsuki is receptive, holding up his arm to let Izuku cuddle, nose brushing into his hair.
“What do you want?” Izuku asks, every last shred of his composure disappearing under the relief of Kacchan still wanting him. “Tell me what to do. I’m sorry, Kacchan, I don’t think-- I can’t think right now. Can, can you tell me what to do?”
A plea. An inappropriate, distressed, weak little plea. Katsuki was the one who needed comforting today, this time around it’s Katsuki who had been slowly broken down over months and months of Izuku’s inattention, Izuku’s idiocy. And yet here he is, asking for comfort, asking for the solace he wants with no thought to what Katsuki wants or needs.
Izuku burns with the shame, but let’s Katsuki’s smooth lips on his forehead soothe him.
Katsuki trails his rough fingertips thoughtfully down around Izuku’s ear, touching the thin skin with distraction.
“I want you to fuck me.” Katsuki declares into their safe, shared darkness. Izuku’s body jerks, a livewire, yearning suddenly with such extreme desire he may just hurt himself with it.
“I want that too; I want to fuck you.” He whines, kissing his way closer until they’re pressed so tightly together he can feel Kacchan’s eyelashes flutter. “I want you, Kacchan.” He smells like mint.
I want you, Kacchan.
Thank the fucking gods, Katsuki thinks.
Izuku still wants him, asks carefully and sweetly into the dark, “do you want to have sex?” Nervous, like Katsuki would ever answer no. Especially now, after that emotional destruction they so carefully avoided, and asking him, wanting him to take control. Still trusting him, after all that blow up, to take over.
Katsuki wants, and Izuku wants to give, and that’s who they are, who they’ve always been.
“Yeah, I want you too. Come here, come on.” Katsuki urges Izuku up and over him, exorbitantly pleased to feel his weight push him down into the bed, spreading his thighs around him. “I’m not gonna do shit. You’re going to do it all, every bit of it.”
“Yes, Kacchan,” Izuku whispers obediently, already breathing hard against his mouth. Katsuki kisses him fiercely, feeling powerful and wanted and so fucking relieved it tastes like the colour green. Green, strong, secure, safe. Everything’s solidifying, slowly. He needs Izuku to show him that it’s all better.
Izuku puts his rough fingers in Katsuki’s hair, and he groans.
“Fuck, baby, you’re doing good already. I’m feeling so relaxed. Want you filling me up. No rubber.” Katsuki murmurs, dark and heavy, into Izuku’s mouth and relishes the overwhelmed whimper he gets in response.
“Oh, oh Kacchan,” Izuku mumbles, awkwardly balancing to reach over and get their lube. Katsuki’s shucking off his sleep clothes, halfway trapped under Izuku’s body but busy groping him at the same time. The nerd’s hips thrust ineffectually, distracted trying to both kiss him, pop open the lube, and get undressed in the dark.
“Good boy, Deku,” Katsuki praises, already working on Izuku’s sleep pants, “gonna be good for me? Make me come?” He doesn’t need to see to know how red Izuku’s face already is. He probably even has that stupid slack-jawed look on, eyes lidded and dumb.
“Yes!” Izuku’s next kiss is sloppy, because Katsuki has a fist around his cock and he’s merciless with it, pumping. “Gonna make you feel so good, make it all better. Kacchan has me forever and ever and deserves this, deserves to feel so good. Lay back, Kacchan.” Izuku says it into Katsuki’s mouth at the same time that he’s dropping the lube and putting his hands all over bare skin. Stuffing a pillow for Katsuki to recline on, angling his hips up. He doesn’t even realize he’s saying exactly what Katsuki wants to hear.
Needs to hear.
“Mmf, Deku, just lick me, don’t suck.” Katsuki directs him, clasping his red-hot face and pressing him so tight to his chest that his nose crunches and he doesn’t breathe well for a moment. Then he shoves, pushing that stupid head down between his legs with force, and Izuku goes so willingly, so eagerly.
It’s moments like these, when Izuku’s biddable and wanting and desperate, that Katsuki could probably make him do literally anything. The power flushes through him, the surety. Whatever fears he had earlier tonight, whatever insecurities, they’re all temporarily washed away by the familiarity of Izuku between his legs, head at his cock, lips on the head. Listening to his every word. Katsuki puts one arm up behind his head to get comfortable, the other clasping curly hair, and he doesn’t care if his eyes are open or closed. It’s all black anyway, and all his attention is on Deku, Deku, beautiful loving Deku with his wriggling tongue and worshiping fingers.
It’s been a while.
One finger makes Katsuki breathe in sharply. Izuku listens, careful and gentle and curling with it. He doesn’t suck his cock, as told, but does an admirable job painting it with his spit, tonguing up and down, up and down.
“That’s exactly what I need, beautiful. Baby’s so good to me, making me feel better after that shit day. Week, really.” Katsuki says, almost but not quite conversational. Izuku doesn’t stop, doesn’t respond, but he knows the man is listening fervently, following his every tiny cue. “Looking forward to that dick, Deku.”
Another finger carefully works its way in, and yeah, there’s a pump to it now, a wave of motion that travels all the way through Katsuki and makes him start shifting with it. Spellbinding.
And better, Izuku’s little nose pressing against the base of his cock while his tongue laves his balls. The sensation shivers through Katsuki, and his legs part further, bending to fall open, Izuku’s free hand and arm curling around his leg and holding it tight, using it as a head rest to help him continue his attentions.
“Fuck—good…boy,” Katsuki grunts out disjointedly, eyes rolling at the most perfect brush against his prostate. Izuku knows him well, know he doesn’t like it too direct. Too sensitive.
Izuku’s a good boy. He’s being a good boy, for Kacchan.
Just what Kacchan likes. He’s gentler with the third finger, but faster in the pumps, working a third in, then just the two, curling to catch his button, and licking a curl around the head of his cock at the same time.
The legs around his shoulders shudder, tightening and loosening and Izuku is ready to stay here for life.
“Up here, baby, come on, up. Put that cock to use. Fuck me, Deku.” The dark voice orders, and Izuku is going without even realizing it, mouth halfway numb from repetitive motion, arm cramping at the position he’d held it to fuck Katsuki loose, to fuck Kacchan loose.
He’s kissed, because Izuku has no ability to think, to move independently, he’s here for Kacchan, to do what Kacchan wants. He’s kissing back, dumbly, tongue too heavy, too much saliva on his face.
“God, I love it when you get like this, so fucking--” Kacchan groans, legs hitching up, the other hand coming down to find Izuku’s terribly hard cock and lube it. With the sudden sensation of touch, Izuku gasps, on edge, and is sharply reprimanded for it, “Don’t you fucking come. You’re not allowed to come. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yea, Kacchan, I won’t.” He swallows, teetering on his hands while Kacchan uses the head of his cock to massage his own hole. Oh, gods, oh gods, oh Kacchan, gods, please—
“I hear you, Izuku,” Katsuki responds to his mindless mutterings with solemnity, serious and safe and careful with Izuku like he always is when it’s important, “That’s it, inside me, fuck inside me.”
He’s hot, Kacchan’s so hot and warm, and tight, oh he can’t come, he’s been told, he can’t come. Izuku’s eyes roll back, he halfway collapses on Katsuki, focusing on being careful for Kacchan, letting him feel it, his cock, fucking into Kacchan with little tiny bursts of his hips.
“Fuck, that’s good. Dick’s good, Deku. There we go.” Katsuki praises lowly, voice rough and rasping and somehow so much stronger in this complete dark. There’s no red glinting eyes for Izuku to stare into, and yet he feels caught in them just the same.
Dick’s so fucking good. Katsuki’s going to go nuts, laying here like a fucking pillow princess, ready to bite it just to hold onto his sanity. Deku being so obedient, whining, trembling like a leaf like Katsuki’s fucking him open instead of the other way around.
He’s not huge, Deku, but his cock is so fucking perfect it’s a damn crime. Katsuki’s got the bigger dick, but Izuku had always been able to take it like a champion while Katsuki has to be careful about taking Izuku’s.
Once, the shithead had said it was because he was more uptight. Fuck him. The nerd just has some kind of witchcraft on his dick to make it feel three times as big as it was. Or, on his hole, to be so hungry for more of Katsuki, any part of Katsuki.
Katsuki wasn’t the masochist Izuku is, so he wants his dicking to be smooth and good, with just the right shade of rough.
And, beyond it all, he wants Izuku fucking destroyed.
“How’s that hole feel?” He whispers hotly into Izuku’s ear, mostly to distract himself and also to torture the poor thing. “You’re fucking me so good, Deku, the stretch is so good.”
“Kaa—” Izuku moans, high and reedy like he’s right on the edge of orgasm already. It’s so good. It flushes Katsuki with vicious, smug pride and also a hotness that his body has been waiting for. He needs it. He needs to get fucked, that in an out, he needs to be taken over and conquered and god, yeah. Katsuki’s legs flex around Izuku’s hips, pulling him in and tensing to push him away in these tiny little micro thrusts that relaxed his hole that perfect amount.
“Fuck me, Deku,” he urges, commanding it, wanting it, “fuck me, fuck me, gods, yes, fuck, yes!” He starts chanting when Izuku starts curling his hips, thrusting, pulling out to find a beautiful thud back in. One arm goes above his head to press against the headboard, giving Izuku the leverage he needs to really slap it in.
It’s so fucking perfect, Katsuki nearly loses track of his goals. His eyes are rolled, he’s clutching tight to Izuku’s head, cuddling it to him so he can feel his mouth on his shoulder, his collarbone, his cheek, wherever the nerd mindlessly drove his kisses. He licks into the nerd’s mouth, bending his legs closer to his chest so Izuku’s next thrust pulls almost entirely out and fucks back in with shocking strength.
“Oh—” Izuku gasps into his mouth and it’s delicious, “oh, Kacchan feels so good, he’s so tight--”
Always talks to himself like Kacchan isn’t around to hear it. Needy. Destroyed for anyone except for his Kacchan.
“A tight hole to fuck, Deku? Zuku? Yeah, baby, fuck me, fuck this hole, I want to hear it.” Katsuki snarls, catching Izuku’s lip between his teeth and biting slowly, stronger and stronger, until Izuku is fucking him hard in response to the bright pain of his lip. When he releases, Katsuki knows even in the blackness the particular shade of dark red that lip is swelling, and he’s got Izuku trapped, pinned to him with strong hands cradling his head, ankles bouncing behind his back as he fucks him.
God, oh, god, he’s going to come here, his cock is bouncing between them but Izuku’s being so attentive, dropping to one elbow to put his other hand between them and catch his cock, trying vainly to fuck and pump at the same time. It’s sloppy, and yet perfect. Missing some pumps, catching the palm over the head, falling sometimes to his hip and ass to hold it.
“This pussy got you drunk, Deku?” Katsuki coos meanly, flushing hot with his own derogatory words, “Gonna come in this pussy?”
“Kacchan, please, please, let me come, can I please come, please,” Izuku breaks into begging, and Katsuki feels dots of wetness hit his own face, trailing down his cheeks. He thinks it might be sweat, but then Izuku hiccups, sobbing hard, literally crying as he fucks him and Katsuki’s tensing up so tight Izuku nearly unseats.
He comes, orgasming so hard his ears fuzz out into nothing and he sees white in a black room. He shakes, fingers digging in hard to Izuku’s skin, he doesn’t even know where. Everything’s gone, everything but Izuku, who’s up inside him, in his guts, his heart. Smearing Katsuki’s come around his cock with a clumsy hand and crying for him.
“’Zuku, Izuku, fuck, come, come—” He doesn’t even get the word out before Izuku is slamming in, uncaring for his comfort, mindless with pleasure and coming hotly inside to mix his come with lube and mark Katsuki inside to leak out tomorrow. He presses in too far, and Katsuki makes a thin, pained noise as his guts ache.
But Izuku’s shivering too, just like Katsuki, sobbing into his shoulder like he’s dying, coming down form an orgasm so intense Katsuki can feel the aftereffects of it, cock jerking in his hole. It’s a deeply intimate feeling, carnal.
Katsuki loves it, even as his own sweat cools, and Izuku pants against him, having done all that work. Katsuki’s barely out of breath, and it eases into comfort within a minute, leaving him to trail his hands up and down Izuku’s heaving back and into his hair, scratching deeply into his scalp and making him shiver over and over.
“That’s my Deku, fucking good.” Katsuki rumbles. Fucked loose and swaying in the waves of leftover pleasure, Katsuki hums as Izuku noses carefully at his neck, kissing and licking and biting lightly. “Tha’s what I wanted.” He licks his dry lips, smacking them, and flexes his feet, toes curled. Izuku’s heavy but propped mostly on his elbow so he can still breathe. While his hips sort of ache, and his back curls uncomfortably amid the pillows and angles he’s in, Katsuki doesn’t want to move.
He’d think about sleeping like this, warm and plugged with soft cock, and basking in Izuku’s little noises, but they get cold with the drying sweat.
Izuku draws his head back, finding his mouth by touch alone, and kisses him slowly. He shudders, fucked open more than Katsuki as they come down. They’ll talk about the ring later. Probably get to work on righting some of the wrongs that had separated them so totally in the past few months. Discuss marriage, work, all of it. For right now though, the dark was protecting them. Their own little abyss in the center of the world.
“Kacchan, I love you.” Izuku says, the only words available to him, the only words he knows. Katsuki absorbs them, shelling up his heart with them, fortifying his soul. “Kacchan. Kacchan.”
And in the dark, they’re the most basic parts of themselves. It’s only luck, their own stubbornness, and a thousand and one blessings that they’ve built themselves over the years to be the other’s perfect match.
Who else but the other. Who else.