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Katsuki breathes out once his heart stops thudding as if it would jump out. His trainer looming over him, hair falling over his eyes sending a jolt all the way to his dick. He fucking hates his trainer. Midoriya Izuku. Just eight years older than him and oh so fucking good at what he does. Katsuki still hates it. Him.
He has respect. It’s hard not to- a living legend pressing Katsuki into the map. Thigh just high enough to press into Katsuki’s dick. High enough to feel the twitch it gives when Izuku smiles at him. Sweet and loving as he hadn’t just thrown Katsuki down like a sack of potatoes. It’s both arousing and enough to fire Katsuki as he struggles to get out of the hold.
“Drop your cocky act Katsuki, won’t do you no good on the ring,” Katsuki headbutts Izuku, not too hard but Izuku closes his eyes and lets him go, just enough for Katsuki to push himself out of the hold.
“Fuck off,” He sneers and gets up, leaving his trainer on the ground. It doesn’t matter. Izuku wouldn’t accept his help even if he tried. He had. Gotten him nowhere. If only with a-
“We’re done for today,” Izuku echoes across the gym and walks to the lockers. Katsuki watches him go. Watches him walk. The way his hips sway. The way his strong back straightens out and flexes as Izuku takes off the shirt before he even reaches the lockers.
Katsuki swears and tears his gaze away.
He drops his gloves, flexing his fingers. It fucking hurts. His body hurts. His trainer too fucking happy to put him through hell every day. Happy to see Katsuki fall and lose. But at the same time, Katsuki sees the clouds in his eyes. Dark and heavy. And Katsuki lets his fantasies run wild each time. To be pinned down just as before every time they fight. Just so he could lean in and kiss him. To touch him.
Katsuki swears one more time and follows after Izuku.
He slinks in, watching Izuku for a moment before he wraps his arms around Izuku’s waist, pushing his hard cock against Izuku’s ass. It’s awful- the way they fit- when they shouldn’t.
"What do you think you're doing?" Katsuki just laughs at him, laughs in the face of danger.
"Dropping my act," He whispers low, into Izuku’s shoulder blades, the skin blemished and scarred. And yet full of sunkissed freckles- almost innocent. Katsuki draws his lips across the constellations of freckles, invisible lines left behind as his hot breath ghosts over the skin. Izuku doesn’t shiver- like one would. He’s far too attuned to Katsukis touch- always knows where he is and what he’s doing. Katsuki can never surprise him- but he tries, he, oh so, desperately tries.
"Really, now?” Izuku whispers, and turns just a tad bit, to get a hand behind him and right on Katsuki’s cock, snug in his sweats. Katsuki whines, legs shaking instantly. He loves Izuku’s hands and loves them more on his dick. It’s heaven. But Izuku brings hell. “Big words for someone so pliant from a single touch,"
Katsuki clicks his tongue and looks him in the eye.
“Lemme fuck you,” He doesn’t plead. Katsuki never does.
“You don’t fuck your trainer if you don’t want rumours about nepotism," Katsuki shifts, pressing his hips into Izuku’s hand, uncaring what he says. It’s the same thing over and over again. Constant fight. Round one, two and three. Until knockdown. One that never comes. There’s no end to the fight. No ring- no boundaries.
"Well a trainer who is a professional doesn’t give a handjob to his pupil after a sesh of personal training,” Katsuki still presses his hips into his hand, pulling back and forth, fucking Izuku’s hand. It’s pleasant- the way Izuku’s hand clutches just a tad so, driving him insane. But it’s not enough.
"You dont care, do you?" Izuku whispers almost defeated. It’s the closest Katsuki can come to a win. Driving Izuku into the ground- in a way the man had done to Katsuki mere moments ago. But it’s not a win- not when Izuku doesn’t give in. It’s not a knockdown. And Katsuki sometimes wonders- if he did so- where would he end up?
"Not one bit sir" Izuku gives him a glance, one that’s caught between heat and despair. One that Katsuki had been on the receiving end one too many times. He both hates it and likes it- knows he’s getting under his trainers' skin, but at the very same time knows it only causes trouble for him later. But Katsuki wasn’t one to back down. Never will be. Especially when it comes to the taller man pressed up against him.
"That's why you're twenty-two and still out of the top league," Katsuki’s hips stutter. He’s fucking close and Izuku knows. He hates this shit. Hates Izuku’s reminders of his shortcomings- the reason he’d even come to him- to get stronger. But what strength he gets when he keels at the very mention of his fall- what strength when Izuku tears him down for his own pleasure. It’s insufferable. Just the way Katsuki likes.
"Whatever you say wonder boy- don’t come at me with your nepotism shit when that was your life for three years,” But he doesn’t give back, not when his hands come to clutch at Izuku’s naked chest, fingers pinching his nipples. Izuku moans, low and breathy. Katsuki’s lips are on his back once more, tongue lapping at the salty sweat on his skin. He bites what he can, and leaves teeth marks and bruises behind. Where Izuku can’t see- can’t tell him off for. Katsuki loves to own Izuku without him knowing.
Izuku flexes his hand- quick and sharp and it’s under Katsuki’s sweat. Grabbing his hard cock, thumb pushing into the slit. Katsuki moans. It drives him crazy. He smiles nonetheless. Knows he won. Somewhat. Whatever the win means. He cascades his hands down to Izuku’s front grabbing at his dick. Just as hard- if not harder. Knows that no matter what he says loves this just as much. Push and pull. The wait. The moment one of them relents. And Katsuki knows- it wasn’t him this time.
“Hah. I want my dick in your ass. You gonna bend over or what?" Izuku is silent and he knows Katsuki got him there. Katsuki rocks his hips into his hand- but then the hand is gone and Katsuki is reminded that no matter how much he tries- he still-
Izuku turns around, grabs Katsuki’s face squishes his cheeks. "If you think you can last more than five minutes you can try,” He snarls into his face. Katsuki narrows his eyes at him not backing down.
Izuku pulls him into a kiss, his hands clutching at Katsuki’s sweaty shirt, tearing at it. Katsuki lets him, lets him pull it off him, lets him push Katsuki against the wall. Lets him take the lead, dropping their clothes to the ground. Lets him jerk him off until Katsuki’s cuming all over Izuku’s hand and his own stomach. He swears and jerks away. It’s not a one-and-done thought. Katsuki is hard soon after and has fingers up Izuku’s ass soon after. Still slick- still dripping with cum from the morning, when Katsuki had woken up frustrated and hard and gunned to fuck his trainer the moment he arrived at the gym. Katsuki would be stupid not to notice how fucking much it hurt Izuku. Not physically no. He still cared that much. But he knows Izuku hates it.
It’s not pretty- the way the fuck. Much the same the way they fight. Almost dirty. Just shy of it. In a way that would leave others staggering, but not them. Not when Katsuki digs his fingers into Izuku’s hips as if he owns him- but knows he doesn’t, can’t when Izuku pushes back against him asking for more and taking just as much. And Katsuki can do nothing but give.
"If this wasn’t a private gym I’d make you scream louder," Izuku’s tone pitches, high and needy. He sucks in a breath, mouth dropping open.
“Like you- gasp - could,” Katsuki could. Can. Will. He knows. One day. Fuck. Izuku squeezes around Katsuki’s dick and it’s good- so good. Katsuki grabs his hips with one hand- presses the other to the middle of Izuku’s back and pushes him down. Izuku goes easily, legs stepping wider. It’s hard when he’s taller- but they both love it like this. The unbalance. It’s arousing. Adds more fuel to the fire- one that’s not going out any time soon. Ones that are too close to consuming them both. Burning and burning until nothing is left.
The same fire travels all the way to Katsuki’s gut. He feels his balls pinch and he’s gonna explode. He reaches over, hand slipping away from Izuku’s hip to grab his dick. Izuku is sensitive- always is- whenever Katsuki puts his hands on him. It’s different though. It’s not the same overwhelming sensitivity that Katsuki gets- seeing starts from a simple touch. No. It’s different. Izuku moans- his legs quiver. And one more stroke as he’s letting go. Cum hitting the wall near the lockers. It’s a lot as Katsuki milks him dry- his hips stuttering in a mess of no rhythm and searching for his own high. He follows after, head thrown back, grabbing at Izuku to pull him up and hold him close. The urge to be held by the man high after. The best he can do is hold him instead and hope that one day Izuku will hold him instead.
Katsuki doesn’t pull out. Can’t. He kisses Izuku’s back. None of the previous heat. He kisses- tender and slow and Izuku pushes him away. Katsuki breaks. Just a bit. Breaks like he’d lost a fight. Important one. He kisses Izuku’s back one more time-
“Don’t do this,” Katsuki stops.
“Izuku-”
“No. Katsuki. It’s not worth it- not with me,” Katsuki relents. A total knockdown.