It seemed only natural.
After all, his childhood town was nothing but a kaleidoscope to Izuku’s least greatest moments. So why should his return back after eight years be any different. Izuku pried the hood open and looked down determinedly at the engine smeared in oil and dust. He rubbed his chin, reached for one part just to second guess himself and snap his arm back.
He didn’t know jack about cars.
When was the last time he had a tune up? The spark plugs checked? The oil changed? The brakes tested?
Izuku dropped his arms and slumped to the passenger door and wiggled his torso through the window for his phone. He bumped his head on the way out and hissed. Headlights blazed through the dark road. Izuku waved his arms and shouted for the driver.
The car, a black ice Challenger with a shivering bass system, roared by him, kicking up fallen leaves.
“Wait, please!” He yelled, arms lowering when the Challenger almost met the bend on the road. The brake lights lit up first, then the Challenger smoothly reserved back. It parked in front of his Nissan.
Izuku sighed, grateful, and went to the driver window to thank his savior when the tinted windows rolled down to reveal—Katsuki.
Katsuki Bakugou—cocksure asshole, an explosively perfect face and body Calvin Klein wished he could have modeling his product, a naturalist when it came to all trades, you named it and Katsuki could do it and do it better than a pro; the Goliath of alphas, current champion of the pro alpha ring—oh, and Izuku’s bully through elementary and high school?
That Katsuki Bakugou?
This night took a nose dive off the cliff into terrible. The chronic, painful story of Izuku Midoriya’s life, one shitty incident after another.
Izuku jumped back as the alpha stepped out.
He blinked several times, ran his pretty eyes up and down like he had trouble placing seventeen-year-old Deku to twenty-four-year-old Deku, who slipped out of his scrawny and tiny omega form and into something closer to alpha’s— muscled, tall, with a cut of danger. A very far cry from an alpha like Katsuki, who not only thought highly of himself as an alpha but was so by bloodline.
“Deku?” Izuku frowned at the revival of the childhood nickname the alpha pinned on his back since grade one. “Fucking knew that was you. Not a big surprise you would’ve car troubles your first day back.”
The worst Katsuki did was shove him into a few lockers— a lot of the bullying was through practical pranks and the name calling— but Izuku still backed up as the alpha stood to his full height. The alpha’s scent surfed on a gust, assaulted Izuku with the overwhelming aroma of gasoline, cigar smoke, and wet earth—a walking CAUTION sign of smells.
A caution his omega refused to acknowledge as the scent summoned it to the surface of his skin. It pressed, remembering the smell and finding it muskier than eight years ago. His status as a rogue kept his omega from buckling totally.
Easy, Izuku. You’re a grown man and Katsuki was just a guy from high school.
Who gave you wedgies.
Planted a stink bomb in your book bag.
Dunk your head in the toilet.
Okay, be a little worried.
Not important but, when did he get so attractive, like insanely hot—?
“I…You don’t have to help me,” Izuku said. “Uh I called a tow.”
Katsuki closed the door. “Nah. It’s chilled, dude.”
Izuku showed his palms with a pained smile, trying to war back the alpha without making physical contact. “No. Really, it’s fine.”
The alpha’s face turned hostile. “Then why the fuck did you wave me down?”
“I didn’t know it was you!”
“Is it a fucking problem?”
Uh, yea. Kind of.
Izuku looked at the ground, burrowing in his hoody when a frosty wind swept up the street. “It’s fine, please.”
“Ugh, shut the fuck up. I’m helping you. Got an issue with that, then go bitch somewhere else.” Katsuki sidestepped him and checked the car.
Izuku trudged along; it wasn’t ideal but either he called a tow truck in the area or he waited for another car to pass by at this late hour, and since it had been years from the last time he was here, Izuku had no number for a tow truck. There was his mom though but he hated to call her and have her fret over him, especially with the party she was setting up for his return.
Taking Katsuki’s offer wasn’t great but it might get him home faster.
“Keys?” Katsuki asked from behind the wheel. “Did it stall on you?”
“Uh, it started making some noise so I pulled over and shut it off. When I tried the key, it wasn’t catching,” Izuku explained, passing over his keys.
Their fingers brushed slightly when Katsuki swiped them. Izuku snapped it back, working his fingers past the jolt of sensation at the touch. Probably a jolt of fear.
Damn Izuku, this was the big return to show everyone you weren’t that timid little punk who couldn’t string two words without stuttering.
“It might just need a jump or your battery’s fucked up,” Katsuki said. He twisted the key, the Nissan rumbled but flagged back. Katsuki did it again before he got out. “Lemme line my car up, I’ll give you a jump.”
Katsuki hopped in the Challenger and pulled off the shoulder and wheeled into a U-turn and lined the hood of his ride to Izuku’s Nissan. He got out, popped the truck, and came back with a set of cable, clamping the pins to both batteries.
“Get in the car,” Katsuki said. “I’ll tell you when to start.”
Izuku slid in, hand on the key.
The Challenger roared, loud and violent—wow, who else did that sound like?
“Hey! Try it!” The alpha shouted over the deep purr.
His engine sputtered again.
Izuku tried it once more.
The engine caught finally and the lights on his dashboard illuminated.
Aw fuck, Katsuki just gave him a jump.
He heard Katsuki’s footstep on the gravel as he appeared in his window. Izuku braced for the assault of insults or jokes about his unflagging ability to find himself in shitty situations.
A model smirk crooked his mouth; his hair fell slightly at the angle. The moon shaded him in silver. Izuku thought sourly, how perfectly his face would fit in the camera lens of an indie photographer, all black and white and avant-garde. “It’s all good?”
Yes, please get your very unfair face away from me and my Nissan.
“The fuck you mean, ‘yes’?” The alpha grumbled. “Does everything look good? Never had one of these cheap cars.”
Izuku set his mouth into a sour line. Wow, rub in your super, duper, cool James Bond car. “Yeah. It’s fine. Thanks.”
Stupid Calvin Klein looking jerk, go model underwear.
“Cool,” he nodded, short on words.
Who was this person? Where was the ‘hey shithead’ or ‘nice jeans, you get them from the girl’s section’?
“Cool?” Izuku repeated like a parrot, wondering if he actually crashed his car and entered into the Oz version of his hometown where Katsuki’s dick-o-meter came in at 50% instead of a thousand.
Katsuki snorted. “Same old Deku, fucking all weird. Alright, deuces.”
“Bye?” He waved.
Katsuki disconnected the cables and wrapped them around his arm and set them back into his trunk.
Izuku eased the car on the road, desperate to get out of the impact zone of post high school Katsuki. He started to breathe easier once he entered the town and saw homes and building instead of tall pines and the water. That relief was short lived as he noticed the flash of headlights in his rearview mirror. He looked back when he caught a red and the car merged into the lane next to him.
A black Challenger.
The window rolled down, heavy rap thumped inside the car. “Bet I can fucking beat your ass,” Katsuki challenged.
“I’m sorry?” Izuku cupped his ear, trying to hear past the lyrics of to the windows, to the walls, to the sweat drops down my balls.
“Race, you fuck!”
Katsuki sent his trademark death glare and Izuku felt like he was in high school again because he was very confused and on the end of Katsuki’s fiery stare. He lifted his middle finger and gunned the car the second the light changed.
Izuku stared at the Katsuki’s shrinking red taillights and drove at the normal speed limit.
Hopefully that would be the last he would see of Katsuki Bakugou.
It wasn’t the last he saw of Katsuki Bakugou because that model looking, alpha king parked his flashy Challenger on his block and currently strode up to his home in loose dark jeans, a tight tank top to showcase his pro-fighter body, and a black hood.
Izuku did a double take. People from all over chatted as they walked up the steps of his childhood home. Cars were lined hood to trunk on both streets.
How many people did his mom invite?
Why were there this many people at his welcome home party—not that he didn’t get along with most of the people at his high school but he a close group he could confidently call his friends.
Why was Katsuki Bakugou going to his welcome home party?
His mother opened the door to Katsuki and her face exploded into a warm smile. Katsuki threw an arm around her and let his small mother coddle him. She pinched his cheek, another action Katsuki didn’t revolt against and ushered him inside. There seemed to be a discussion about him because Katsuki started to gesture in the direction he came from right before the door shut.
The Katsuki he remembered from high school told adults to eat his shit while he egged their house and denied any involvement when the cops came by his place. Their homeroom teacher in high school, Mr. Aizawa, was the victim of said egging. Katsuki spent two weeks in detention with Eijirou and Denki, his accomplices. And he had quite the colorful relationship with his own mother who he passively referred to as old hag.
So Izuku was a bit lost seeing Katsuki being civil and decent to his mother
Izuku looked at his steering wheel.
Did he die?
Did aliens take over his home?
How much had changed from high school?
A car honked impatiently behind him. Izuku circled the block three times before he had to park two blocks down from his own home.
His feet felt numb on the steps, the house was in the middle of pain job. The old rocking chair was still tucked into the corner. The lush beds of flowers in front of the porch were starting to know the touch of summer as their color vibrated in the night and their pelts bloomed, healthy. Izuku could tell you how many times he had tripped running up these stairs in middle school, how many times he sulked up in high school, how many times he stormed up.
Not here more than a day, it felt like the town grew the same but different. Like how flowers bloomed differently after a harsh winter. He knocked.
His mother opened up, beaming, round in her face and now her body but she still the most beautiful woman in his eyes.
“Mom.” He hugged her.
“Everyone’s so excited to see you. C’mon, they’re in the back..” She tugged him through the living room the kitchen, the laundry room to the wide backyard where a sea of familiar but matured faces looked back at him
“WELCOME BACK, MIDORIYA!”
“DEKU, YOU FUCKHEAD!”
“Oh my god.” Ochako swayed him from side to side, determined to spend the whole party killing Izuku with affection and overly aggressive hugs. Izuku lifted his beer, moving and missing the rim. “I missed you so much.”
Tenya pried the omega off. “Honey, calm down.”
She threw herself back on him. “No! I’m never ever letting you go.”
“Well I did what I could,” Tenya said, shrugging because he wasn’t the one currently being attacked by a friend starved octopus. The light glared off his black-rimmed glasses. Tenya hadn’t changed much, appearance wise, he had the same clean cut and the wide shoulders, but he seemed to be less uptight about things.
“Don’t you want to go with your mate?” Izuku asked the mop of brown hair nuzzling his collar bones.
“This will make sex difficult,” Tenya said. “But if you close your eyes and try to be very quiet, we might pull this off.”
“Hey, so I um, ran into Katsuki?”
Ochako popped her head up. “Was he a douche? I’ll throw a beer in his face.”
“No. He was…nice? Or Katuksi’s version of nice. He helped me when my car stalled. And he’s here.”
“Yea, he kinda mellowed out I think.”
“After he went pro and he came back to do training here in the offseason, he toned down,” Tenya argeed. “I think the fighting is taking a lot of the edge off. I hear really strong alphas who don’t have mates, need to work off the energy or they’ll get like Bakugou and be very aggressive.”
“He’s still kinda aggressive,” Izuku said.
“Well, we know that just mostly his personality.”
“Shouldn’t he be in Vegas?”
“I don’t know the whole story, Shouto does—“
“Shouto?” He asked.
“Yup.” Tenya shared his disbelief. “They got close after graduation. But he said the media was really on him a lot and he got violent with one reporter and smashed their mic through a windshield. Yagi thought it would be better for him to be here in the offseason to train since we all know Katsuki and we don’t think he’s that great unlike the rest of the world.”
“No lie, he’s super cut now,” Ochako whispered.
Katsuki’s obnoxious whoop gathered their stares. He had his shirt lifted as he bragged loudly to the guys and a few pretty omegas. Shouto rolled his eyes. Eijirou fell to his knees and started worshipping him like the model sex god he probably thought he was. Denki looked at his toned abs and the pecan pie his mother made and figured pie was an easier option than being a fitness nut like Katsuki.
Izuku’s body temperature rose the levels of hellfire and the surface of the sun.
Ochako released him. “You’re all sweaty…” She tracked his gaze and smiled knowingly. “Oh. Yeah. Everyone has that reaction.”
Tenya groaned. “Do you see what we have to deal with now? He runs around with no shirt. I feel like a potato around him.”
“But you’re my sexy potato.” His mate comforted, smoothing her hand on his chest, and occasionally sneaking glances at Katsuki’s shredded abs.
“Baby.” Tenya called her out.
The omega blushed guiltily. “Oh you know guys like that aren’t the one you take home. You fuck guys like Katsuki. You fuck him and then you tell your friends about his monster cock.”
Izuku didn’t want to imagine what laid below that hard set of abs and that delicious stubble of pubic hair. His omega did though and Izuku stuffed the traitor into a box somewhere far from the alpha’s alluring scent and a dynamite body.
A big fat no to that, thanks.
“Excuse me?” Tenya asked, wondering if he should feel insulted or not.
“But in my case, I got the guy with the bod, the brain, and the heart.” Ochako recovered quickly and kissed Tenya’s cheek.
He pouted, glaring angrily at the small pudge at his gut. “I haven’t had a slender body since high school when I was in track.”
“I used to be skinnier too but well, food.” She laughed.
“You are my beautiful goddess and every ounce of fat is a blessing.”
She forced a sweet smile. “I’ll pretend you didn’t call me fat.”
“It goes straight to your, uh, assets, my dear. Which is only one minor factor in what makes you my goddess.”
“Alright. Tone it down. I’m still sleeping with you tonight.” She let him off the hook. “You got buff though. Remember how tiny Izuku was, he couldn’t lift a case of soda.”
Izuku shrugged. “Well, everyone is really fit in L.A. so I kinda fell into it. It’s really great way to clear your mind.”
“Yea,” Ochako hummed. “But I like food and sitting on my butt so pass.”
He laughed. “It’s not for everyone.”
“Oh my god, Izuku you got so cute,” Mei cooed suddenly, breath foul with whiskey and beer. “Look at that butt.” She slapped it.
Izuku chirped loudly.
Katsuki might have noticed, not Izuku was looking to see if the guy was looking at him. Cause he didn’t care. Katsuki was so not attractive.
Izuku turned, slow like a victim in a horror film who just realized the killer/monster was behind them the whole time, butt still in Mei’s secure grip. “Mei?”
The spunky beta grinned. “Hey, wanna fuck? You got really hot after high school.”
He could practically hear Katsuki’s playboy smile growing at the scene, his amber eyes crinkling, his voice loud and voluminous.
Katsuki, Denki, Eijirou, and Hanta doubled over in laughter.
She offered, either too drink to hear the alphas or willfully deaf to them. “Or I can suck your cock if you prefer.”
Hanta’s knees hit the floor.
Denki snorted beer out his nose.
Katsuki leaned on the wall for support, his big arms flexing.
Shouto kicked his shin to shut him up.
“W-what?” Izuku stuttered, red to the roots.
The small beta, Minoru appeared suddenly like a conjured ghost and folded his hands sagely around Mei’s arm. “Mei. How about we talk about the moon?”
“Ugh.” She shoved her palm into Minoru’s face and pushed away his lecherous face. “I’m not fucking you again.” She complained and shuffled away.
The alphas shouted. “DAMN.”
“Next time, Minoru.”
“Hey, Minoru, you can have me, baby.”
Minoru flipped them over. “Fuck you guys! And shut your stupid face, Katsuki!”
The alpha smirked into his beer and gave Minoru the bird.
Mei crowded someone else. “Hey Tsuyu! What’s going on girlfriend? Lemme see that frog tongue.”
Tenya and Ochako tsked as the pink haired wild child roped an arm around Tsuyu.
“Every party,” Ochako admonished.
“She’s getting better. Izuku is the first person she asked, at this hour she normally has worked up to ten.”
“Not a whole day,” Izuku groaned. “Did Mei Hastume just ask to suck my dick?”
Tenya explained delicately. “She’s as the French call it, a free spirit.”
Ochako snorted. “Free spirit. If that means hooking up with nearly every person in our graduating class and then some, then yes, she’s very free. I don’t mean to slut shame but she should be careful with who she does it with.”
Izuku found his mother in the kitchen as she pulled out a container full of potato salad. He helped her carry it to the table and popped off the lid.
“Thank you, sweeties.” She kissed his cheek.
“Mom, why is Katsuki here?”
She said, working around the kitchen for paper plates. “Oh, he helped me set everything up for your party.”
Izuku grabbed another dish his mother prepared and it nearly slipped at his shock. “He—what?”
“Yup. Katsuki was really helpful this week.”
Katsuki and help did not mix. Ever.
Izuku set the bowl down and approached. “Mom, I want you to think about what you just said. Are you sure it wasn’t Tenya or literally anyone but Katsuki?”
She lowered her head, sincerely thinking about it. She popped her head up and smiled. “No, no. It was Katsuki. He was such a delight, though he does have a mouth of a sailor. But his mother had one too so I’m not too surprised. You should’ve seen him lift the sofa. He’s a strong alpha. Single too.”
Oh no, he knew that tone.
She used the same one, convincing him it was a swell idea for him to try out for the football team which Katsuki creamed him in by tackling his ass flat.
“No,” he said severely.
Not even if you paid him.
Not in a billion years.
“I was just saying, sweetie, he’s very good looking and his career pays very well and I know you haven’t really dated much. I’m sorry I don’t want to think you have to be with someone. Katsuki just seems like a good alpha.”
Maybe Izuku needed to get across how against the idea he was. “I would rather be stranded on an island with a volleyball as my partner than date Katsuki Bakugou.”
“That’s very creative, sweetie. But you can’t fuck a volleyball.”
“Mom!” He looked, scandalized. “He like put my head in a toilet. He gave me swirlies!”
“What are those, baby?” She hummed, not paying attention as she worked around the kitchen like a busy bee.
“And he put stink bombs in my locker and my bag!” Izuku continued, her question going unanswered. “I had to throw it out cause of the smell.”
“That was Katsuki?”
Katsuki had his mother under the same spell he weaved on every poor soul who made the grave mistake of looking at his model-eques face, his caramel red manly eyes, the hard alethic build.
“You know they say boys only pick on the girls they like,” she said suggestively.
“Katsuki does not like me. I think he only came here to see me make an ass of myself.”
The alpha appeared, rapping his knuckles on the wood. Izuku arched his back like a Halloween cat. “Yo, Ms. Midoriya. Need help?”
“Sweetie, you can call me Inko. And could you help Izuku with the food? He’s not too strong.”
Izuku ran to the table and grabbed the heaviest bowls to disprove that. “That’s okay. I got it.”
“Looks heavy,” Katsuki noted.
Izuku’s arms quivered under the weight. “Nope. Nope. Light like a feather.”
Inko stepped out with a tray.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Look, Deku, fucking let me help.”
“No way.” He leaned away when the alpha made to take one.
“Stop being a asshole.” He tried again
Izuku dodged him and put the table between them. “What are you even doing here? At my welcome home party.”
“What, I can’t come?” He chased.
Izuku moved around the table. “No?”
“Fucking, Deku. Pick one, yea or nah.”
“Be quiet, this is heavy.”
“Then give it to me, dickhead!”
“I have it!”
Inko peeked her head in. “Hello boys, everything going alright?”
They both plastered on a friendly smile.
“Great, mom,” said Izuku around a fake smile.
Katsuki said. “Yea. We got it. You should chill.”
She fawned. “Aw, you’re so sweet, Kacchan.”
She left, the door swinging behind her
Izuku glared, blood hot and explosive. Katsuki was worming into every facet of his life again. Wasn’t it enough that he made his life hell from elementary to high school; did he need to do the same for his adult life. “And you’re talking to my mom.”
The alpha turned his face hostile. “I can talk to whoever the fuck I want, shithead. It’s a free country.”
“Why my mom?” He asked.
Katsuki never dared to care about anyone but himself, yet he was being helpful to Izuku and his mother.
“Maybe that shit ain’t your business, Deku.” He barked, frustrated.
His omega sniffed out the waves of annoyance and desperation on the alpha. Weirdly, Izuku felt something inside being yanked off like a kite in a storm. Go, go, it seemed to say. He shook it off.
“Stop calling me that.”
Being the adult he was, Katsuki chanted. “Deku, Deku, Deku.”
“You’re a child,” Izuku huffed, moving around Katsuki’s broad frame and kicked the door with his foot. The door opened and shut on Katsuki’s appalled face.
On the other side, he wheezed and ran up to Tenya and passed him the bowl. “Here, take this. It’s super heavy.” He panted, catching his breath.
“Oh sure.” Tenya shifted the bowl on his hip. “Did something happen, you kinda look mad.”
Breath caught, Izuku started. “Do you know Katsuki—“
“I don’t want to be rude but I noticed this is the second time you brought him up. Are you sure he’s not bullying you again? Cause we’ll kick him out. He might be a guest but we won’t tolerate it.”
Okay, if you wanted to be technical, then no. Katsuki had been a gentleman to a degree. He still called him Deku but he wasn’t calling him a piece of shit or hitching his underwear up his ass. He yelled but Katsuki was never a quiet person to start—he was the one person in their whole town to be banned from the library.
“No,” he confessed, a nervous hand touching his neck.
If he considered it, he was being unfair to Katsuki and allowing their past relationship affect the current one. Normally, Izuku was a much more open guy. Willing to see the good in everyone and that was true with Katsuki in the past. For a long time, he did want nothing more than Katsuki’s friendship and not his scorn. Leaving put a lot of things into perspective. How he had endured it. Being nothing but a walking doormat and Izuku was so desperate to fight Katsuki and show he wasn’t that scrawny nerd any longer.
“He’s…ugh. It’s nothing. I’m letting the past get under my skin. I’m sorry.”
“No trouble at all.” He patted his back. Izuku could always count on Tenya to see the logic where his failed. It got him through elementary and high school and now he was getting him through this stage as well. “It’s been a while. I can understand your shock. And to be fair, Katsuki annoys everyone.”
Katsuki walked down the hall with two dishes, stopped to stare at Izuku who was minus one heavy bowl and Tenya who was plus one, and pulled that jerk-faced alpha I’m so hot, don’t you want me, Izuku smirk and walked on.
“Are you okay?” Tenya asked Izuku, who faced developed an alarming red shade.
“Yup! Fine. Dandy.” Izuku insisted a bit too enthusiastically like if he shoved his level of not at all affected by Katsuki Bakugou’s handsome alpha face loudly enough and forcefully enough, it might become true. “Let’s get these outside. Don’t wanna let this good food go to waste.”
the party's on, katsuki can't seem to leave Izuku in peace. Izuku is developing a tolerance(?) to it.
TY for the feedback on the 1st chap.
minor hitoshi/izuku moment (it's tasteful? not katsuki tho, lol)
drinking & driving (yea, don't do that, plz)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Izuku was going to enjoy his party. He was, honest, And there was nothing, not a thing, on this planet that could sway him from his determination to have a great time with his old friends and classmates.
Hanta grabbed the mic, tapped it, and caused the whole party goers to cup their ears and wince at the feedback. When did someone get a mic and who thought it was a good idea to let Hanta have it?
“Yo. I just wanna give a shout out to Izuku. We all remember that time you threw up Lucky Charms on that school trip, man. Let’s make more memories like that. Oh and this song is for Katsuki, the douchebag.”
I wanna li li li lick you from your head to your toes
And I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor
Then I wanna ah ah you make it so good I don't wanna leave
But I gotta kno kno kno know wha what's your fan-ta-ta-sy
“Yo, son! Tunrt!” Denki cheered, trying to grind on Ibara, who shoved him off with a disgusted huff.
Mr. Aizawa, his former high school English teacher, rolled his eyes. He found Hanta and pinched his ear, whispering a stern lecture. They all knew the look— the slow death of joy and freedom; after all they shared him for four years.
Hanta pouted and talked to the DJ. The song changed to something less explicit.
Denki, Eijirou, and Yuga booed the stage.
Tsuyu chewed on her food while Izuku wondered if God hated him or just this town. “Oh yea. Didn’t Katsuki dare you to eat two boxes of Lucky Charms?”
“And then you threw up rainbows on the bus.”
“Thank you!” He finished, his smile strained with politeness.
Tsuyu kindly looked away from his twitchy eye and drank her beer.
Ochako held her breath, cheeks pink.
“You can laugh.”
She shook her head, cheeks slowing working to the shade of lavender.
“It’s fine. I’m past that.”
The omega let it out, head to the table and fist hammering it.
Tenya coughed a laugh, thinking he was slick.
Eijirou, the redheaded beta, hopped on stage and seized the mic. In the darkness where the real adults gathered and ate, Aizawa rose like smoke. The young adults tensed in fear as he navigated between the tables like a shadow.
“This song is for Shouto. Hit it, DJ!”
There she go, shaking that ass on the floor
Bumping and grinding that pole
The way she's grinding that pole
I think I'm losing control
Aizawa made to strangle Eijirou until Yamada and Yagi intercepted and handed him a beer. The beast seemingly tamed, everyone who was too skittish to join, hop on the dancefloor, which was the flat square of cement in his mom’s large backyard, and started dancing. Tenya and Ochako joined in after asking Izuku if he was alright by himself.
It reminded him of his senior prom. He went alone. Ochako and Tenya had finally asked one another to be a couple, and went together. He third wheeled then, watching them and everyone else have fun and dance.
A hand reached for his.
Izuku blinked up at Hitoshi Shinsou. Tall, lean, classically handsome like dark wood. He didn’t explode like a hand grenade to Izuku’s retinas but passed like a slow smoke over the moon.
“Looks like we’re both dateless,” he said, voice aged dark. The alpha had his hair slicked back and wore simple dark jeans and a white button top.
“Seems so.” Izuku drank his beer.
“You wanna dance with me?”
“Okay. Sure.” He pushed in his chair and let Hitoshi lead him to the dancefloor. “I’ll give you fair warning, I don’t have that much experience.”
Katsuki’s voice rumbled on the speakers. Someone hollered like a hellcat and Izuku didn’t need to check to see it was Eijirou. “I got a song too cause apparently none of you fuck nuggets have good taste. DJ, teach these fuckheads.”
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Shouto stood on the stage, looking bored. “Look, you guys are a mess. Here’s a nice song. For my wife.”
The girls cooed. Momo flushed, painted nails clapped over her face as Shouto got off the stage and ushered her on the floor. She curled around him.
When the night has come, and the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we will see
No, I won't be afraid, oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me
Katsuki booed from the sidelines until Eijirou harassed him into a slow dance. The alpha couldn’t look anymore annoyed and displeased with the situation. Izuku knew the angry pout to his mouth from memory alone.
Izuku kept breaking into a fist of giggles any time the crowd parted and he saw the alpha’s raging face. To fan the flame further, Denki hugged Katsuki from behind and swayed with them.
Katsuki’s biting remarks rumbled under the music.
“What’s so funny?” Hitoshi asked, eyes remarkably soulful and navy.
Izuku never took that much notice of him back in the day. Hitoshi didn’t raise hell like Katsuki. He kept to himself, reading books during lunch. His grades never went below an A. He worked at the diner after school he wasn’t tutoring other students. Each year he was rewarded the title of scholar. At their graduation, he was their valedictorian, a fact that still incurred immense jealously from Tenya. His words put wings of hope and dreams inside Izuku’s heart.
Izuku blinded himself to the glow of blonde hair sticking out in the sea of people. “I thought everything would be so different but everyone’s kinda the same. We’re all kids here trying to be adults.”
He laughed softly. “If Katsuki’s an adult then that would make us seniors, wouldn’t it?”
He laughed. “So how was New York, you went there for school right?”
“You remembered?” He seemed surprised and flattered. “Yea. I stood there for a year but the money was adding up quick. With tuition, books, and not to mention housing. I came back here and finished my degree. Not very flashy but I’m only a few thousand dollars in debt.”
“That would do it. How much was it?”
“Tuition?” He cocked his head side to side, adding it up. “About fifty grand.”
Izuku gasped. “Oh my god.”
“It was an Ivy league school. So big money for a big name. Everyone there was high off themselves anyway. This town isn’t classy but not everyone’s a pretentious prick.”
“Oh. It wasn’t a big name school. I just wanted out from here, to be away from the small town thing. L.A.’s nice but it’s expensive to live there and you always got these beautiful people coming over. It feels like there’s a lot to live up to.”
“I don’t see you having that problem. You’re good at rising above challenges. And you’re not short on looks.”
He blinked, a strong flush rushing to his face. Did he—? Was Hitoshi coming on to him? “Uh. T-thank you.”
“The song stopped.” It did and moved to the next track, something pop-ish and not danceable for a duo, but Hitoshi’s hands never left him. “Do you wanna keep dancing?”
Izuku opened his mouth then paused for several reasons, the most imperative, was a familiar scent of gasoline and brown cigars and napalm hot heat stomping on loud boots to him.
He frowned at the alpha. “Deku.”
“Yes?” He asked. Ignoring Katsuki was never a wise choice, so the smart thing was to figure out what he wanted and let him carry on with his Calvin Klein butt.
Katsuki scrunched his nose at Hitoshi. Dismissive. Trying to make the other alpha feel small and insignificant. “You look familiar,” he drawled.
Hitoshi straightened his posture. “We went to the same elementary school. And high school. We had biology together. You threw a dead frog at me when they partnered us up.”
Katsuki snapped his fingers, producing the name and memory to go with Hitoshi’s face. “You the guy who jerked off in the library to Home Garden magazine?”
“No. Pretty sure that one of your crew though.”
“Nah. It was you. Jerky Boy. Did you get to cum or what? Are those old crinkly pages sticky?”
“Kastuki!” Izuku chided, backhanding his brick hard arm.
It didn’t hurt the alpha but he at least took notice of the strike. He shouted, flinging his arms out defensively. “What? It’s just a question. I would like to know if he came or not. The fuck.”
“Must be hard to remember me with your head up your ass all the time.”
The alpha shrugged his sinewy shoulders lazily, a casual showcase of his physical prowess. He was alpha-ing up, letting Hitoshi read his size and coiled strength. He exuded his scent next.
Izuku wanted to dissolve on the spot. How did he end up in the middle of an alpha pissing contest?
“Now I remember you. You’re the witch boy, everyone thought you and your dad cooked up spells and curses in one of those black pots.”
“No one thought that until you opened your mouth.”
“You fucking calling me out?” Katsuki threatened, baring his teeth
“Wow. Okay. Stop. You,” Izuku dragged Katsuki away. “Come with me.” To Hitoshi, he said. “Thanks for the dance.”
“What a cunt.” The alpha grumbled, settling for a nasty sneer in place of beating Hitoshi’s placid face in. “I’ll fuck you up, Hocus Pocus.” He flipped him off.
“You aren’t happy unless you’re fighting someone,” he muttered, slowing his gait once they reached a reasonable distance from Hitoshi. It was like having an angry Rottie on a leash, Izuku couldn’t believe he was being roped into Katsuki’s bullshit for what, the third or fourth time this night; unbelievable.
“That wasn’t me fighting. A real one and he wouldn’t be standing.”
He sighed, his hand still latched to Katsuki’s wide wrist. With a delayed response, Izuku dropped it, surprised that lightning bolts and Molotov cocktails could reside in one person and not rip them to shreds.
Stupid alpha blood.
“Just try to be nice for me—the party,” he asked. “Please.”
He snorted, visibly tonguing his teeth. “Wow, a ‘please’. You yelled at me earlier.”
“Oh my god,” he whined.
“Look we’re low on beer.”
“So, fucking go,” said Katsuki, voice gritty.
Izuku pointed a finger, slow., in case he misunderstood the alpha’s implication. “With you?”
“Fucking shit.” Katsuki’s shoulder hunched up defensively, looking like a harassed cat. “Deku, yes with me.”
Izuku’s eyes naturally fixed on the raucous redhead on the dancefloor with Denki and Hanta. “Why not Eijirou?”
“It’s not his party.”
“Exactly. Shouldn’t I stay?”
The alpha leaned over him, arm braced against the bricking of his childhood home. It was highly reminiscent of high school where Katsuki did the same pose over a much shorter and thinner teen Izuku. Back then, Izuku pressed himself back, caught between fear and panic.
Back then, Katsuki made verbal jabs with a nasty sneer, his face developing handsome lines.
Now, his back pressed to the brick with a low heat under his skin. Water in a pan before it reached boiling. “Deku, you sassing me? Cause that sounds like sass outta your mouth.”
“…No. Just very confused.” He stared into Katsuki’s honey red eyes; the expression was playful. The words like banter than words laced with barb wire.
Mostly confused though.
“You’re going,” Katsuki decided for him.
Izuku parroted it. “I guess I’m going.”
“And I guess I’m shutting up.”
“You’re a little shitbag, man.”
Izuku moved his mouth but put no voice behind it and grinned when it made the alpha roll his eyes.
Katsuki unlocked the doors and slid into the driver seat. He motioned across the console for Izuku to get in. “Wait, you’re driving?”
“But you were drinking,” he accused through the window.
“So?” Katsuki tapped a message on his phone. White washed the black leather of the Challenger. “I drink and drive all the time,” he said, putting his cell away.
Izuku wedged his torso through the opened window. “That’s not safe, what’s wrong with you? What if you get into an accident?”
Katsuki considered him like Izuku was the bumbling drunk. “I’m buzzed. Not fucked up and unlike you, I got years of experience under my belt.”
“That’s not comforting!”
He curled his fingers around the clutch. Slow. Kind of sexual, honestly. “I’ll drive extra slow for you, princess.”
“I should drive,” he said, blinking at the leather seat and not Katsuki’s obscene hand stroking up the stick absentmindedly.
Like he probably jerked his dick like that. Up and down. Wide and tall.
“I think the fuck not,” Katsuki laughed at Izuku’s suggestion. “No one touches my car.”
“Let’s try a sobriety test,” he suggested then. “Say your ABCs. C’mon, you can sing it if it helps you.”
Katsuki paused his pornographic stroking and pushed his combustible body over the console. His clothes dipped. Izuku saw muscels and felt really bad for lookinh but my god. “Here’s my test, you got a minute before I get out this car and put your ass in that seat.”
“A. B. C. D,” Izuku sang and motioned for Katsuki to join along and fill in the blanks.
He thumbed the door handle, muscles jumping in his forearm. “I’m getting out!”
“Okay! Fine.” He got in but he was not a happy camper and he let it be known to Katsuki by clicking his seatbelt vehemently and making the cross over his heart.
Katsuki waited, face dull. “Are you done?”
“If we die, I want to be buried on the other side of the cemetery,” he said. “Away from you. Because you wanted to drive knowing it’s immoral to go behind the wheel when you’re under the influence.”
A silence stretched where Katsuki stared at him unblinking with one arm posed coolly on the wheel. Another lovely opportunity for a grainy black and white photo. “I get the feeling you’re the type of guy who cries after he jerks off. Wank and sob. Like you feel shitty for getting off but you like getting off cause it makes you feel dirty, right?”
Izuku’s cheeks blossomed spectacularly in shades of cotton pink. “I—I. Excuse me?”
“Am I wrong?” He asked, enjoying Izuku’s vibrant outburst.
Izuku answered, hysterical. “Yes! Very wrong! I have a healthy jerking method okay. Very normal!”
He smirked. “Why are you getting so defensive then?”
“Because it’s my penis.”
“I didn’t say I wanted it.”
“Well, good! You’re not getting it.”
Uraraka: where r U? wheres my gay boy? Come back to me love.
Midoriya: sorry just getting supplies with baku
Iida: HAVE OYU BEEN TAKEN AGAINST YOUR WILL?
Iida: SHOULD WE CALL THE POICE?
Iida: I am so sorry, I had caps locked.
Uraraka: u and baku????
Midoriya: he forced me!
Midoriya: his ride is nice tho.
Uraraka: yea, it’s a fuck car. U get fucked in it.
Midoriya: [shocked emoji]
Iida: what does my Buick mean?
Uraraka: awkward fingering
Katsuki whistled at the mega-sized bottle of honey Jack Daniels. “You naughty girl, you want me to take you, right? Half off, so dirty.” He put the bottle to his ear. “What’s that? You want my mouth.”
Izuku pulled the cart up, the fluorescent lights above lit up the store. Their reflections played back on the ceiling to floor windows in front. There was a few number of people inside besides them, some he recognized vaguely, older versions of themselves. One or two told Katsuki hello and if he was down for a party.
No surprise there, Katsuki partied hard enough in high school to earn himself credit with some of the adults who weren’t too stingy about underage drinking.
The wheels squeaked over the uneven tile. “…Are you flirting with that bottle?”
“She’s flirting with me,” he purred, caressing the glass. “Look at that price.” Izuku checked out the bright label advertising the percentage cut. “Fuck I love sluts.”
“I think the owner is staring at us.” Izuku lowered his head and shielded his face as the owner’s beady eyes judged them from behind the counter with his beer gut and Hawaiian button up.
Katsuki checked then shrugged. “Deku, lighten the fuck up. You wanna share her with me? A little gangbang. Two guys, one chick.”
“Stop sexualizing the bottle.”
“Pussy. Fine.” He put the bottle in the cart. “Probably couldn’t handle this shit.”
“I can too!” He blurted impulsively.
Why did he say that; he got fucked up on wine coolers and Bud Light at every party and the one time he did indulge in alcohol content high than 5% was vodka and as far as he knew that night never existed because he blacked out.
Don’t do vodka.
“So if I buy this bottle, you’ll kill it with me?”
Instead, Izuku replied with. “I didn’t say that.”
Tell him no, man.
Katsuki hunched over the end of the cart, the collar of his tank hanging low and his pectorals pressing together. “Pussy,” he taunted low with a sharp smirk.
“Oh my god, fine, I’ll kill it with you.”
“Nice.” Happy with the results, he pulled off and scanned the shelves.
“Can we get what we came here for, please?” He begged, dragging his feet.
“Sure….Oh what is this?” The alpha let out another appreciative growl and prowled up to another half off bottle. “Another dirty girl. Daddy Katsuki’s here.”
Izuku clapped a hand over his mouth and hid his teeth, giggling at Katsuki’s playful behavior. He didn’t think Katsuki could be a silly person—a cool guy, yea; a badass; wise ass; but dorky, no. He leaned on the handlebar, observing, and pushed along once Katsuki convinced himself to buy the bottle. The owner snapped his newspaper to let them know he was watching their gay shopping and scratched the curls on his chest.
Katsuki howled, carrying two 24 packs in each hand. “Yo, party still on!”
Izuku shut the gate, flipping the latch, and carried two plastic bags.
“Did you go with Katsuki, sweetie?” His mother hummed inquisitively.
“More like forced,” he said, the bags rustling as he set them on the table where the plates and dishes of food were collected.
“Oh. I see.” But it wasn’t a meaningless oh I see, more like so you and Katsuki then, huh, huh, do you think he’s cute.
She sucked on her hopeful smile when Izuku turned and warned. “No. There’s no ‘oh’.”
“Oh,” she said again, with intent, like oh should I start buying you condoms or finding excuses to leave the house at night intent.
“Mom,” he cried.
“Sorry, sorry.” She rubbed the center of his back in apology. “Now pass over the Rum Chata, that’s for us big people.”
“That’s yours?” He asked, watching her rummage through the bag and heave the tall bottle.
She pried the plastic seal with her teeth. “I’m old, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean your mom can’t get turnt like the rest of you kids.”
He made suspenseful eye contact with his mother, expecting—no praying for the pearls of laughter in response to saying that word. None came. She smiled earnestly like an excited puppy who found a large stick in the grass.
His mother just said turnt un-ironically. “Please don’t say turnt, mom. It’s…weird.”
She gave him a one arm hug and pecked his cheek. “Oh, looks like Katsuki is coming for you.”
“Stop saying things like that.”
“Deku,” Katsuki greeted, clapping him. He played up a handsome, GQ smirk for his mother; he felt instantly betrayed when she crumbled like corn beard under it. “Inko.”
You complete tool.
Impatient, Mr. Aizawa swiped the bottle from his mom . Mr. Aizawa acknowledged Izuku with a small nod.
“Uh. Mr. Aizawa,” he said, politely. Silly as it was, a small part of him still thought of himself as a student and Mr. Aizawa as his teacher and he felt he had to be twice as kind and courteous to the man. The memory of Aizawa’s after school detention was not far from his mind.
Fortunately, Izuku scraped by the four years without ever having to attend it but the horror stories spread faster than weeds from those who did.
“Good to see you used your head for something,” he said, then not so subtly, ran his tired eyes to Katsuki.
“Fuck you,” Katsuki scoffed; voice that neat balance of mischievous and confident.
His mother gasped. “Katsuki.”
“Oh, my bad. Fuck you, sir.”
Aizawa hummed. Expression vaguely wrathful, Izuku imagined he was giving Katsuki a thousand detentions in his mind. He tapped his mother arm and went back to the table, Yamada and Yagi chanting drunkenly.
“Thank you for running to the store, Katsuki.”
He thumbed his nose, glancing at the dark street. “It’s cool. Oh yeah, I’m taking this with me.” By this he meant Izuku, naturally; and draped his solid arm loosely on Izuku’s shoulder.
Izuku didn’t put up a fight, besides the rippling muscles that told him escape was futile, Katsuki would nag and complain to him until he relented.
“Well don’t let me stop you,” she said, pleased as Katsuki dragged him away with the bottle of Jack.
Katsuki sat him down.
Shouto, Denki, Hanta, and Eijirou whipped their head back.
Izuku was sure the feeling oozing out of his pores was the beginnings of regret.
“Deku here wants to drink me out,” Katsuki explained, then walked away to grab clean shot glasses
“Whoa. No. That’s not—“ He fumbled, shifting his eyes frantically to Katsuki’s shrinking back and the guys.
The guys winced in sympathy.
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Shouto warned, spearing a chunk of potato salad. He chewed, danced his fork in the air. “The last guy who did that had his stomach pumped.”
Eijirou chuckled to himself, face fond at the memory. “Yea. I was in the hospital for a week after that. Good times.”
“I tried,” Hanta added. “Blacked out.”
Denki said. “I threw up.”
Izuku shot up to escape but Katsuki’s firm and powerful hand sat him back down.
“Where do you think you’re going, Deku?” He asked, sliding the shot glass in front of him.
He gulped and slouched his back as far into the chair as he could, like the glass was a hissing rattlesnake.
Katsuki chewed off the seal, spat, and sent the cap twirling with a flick of his wrist. He pulled the cap off and angled it and spun it into a black blur on the table. He filled their glasses with a clink.
Brown amber whirled in the glass like a tornado.
“Don’t tell me you’re chickening out,” he said, a dark challenge in his eyes.
That didn’t change much, Katsuki loved to compete whether it was the state championship between U.A.’s Heroes and Kiyashi’s Wookiees or the number one player of tic-tac-toe. Katsuki strived for first place and nothing less.
He did lose a few times, it happened. Izuku witnessed it once— a school festival for Halloween, seventh grade, Katsuki and another kid bobbed heatedly for apples. The prize— one of those popcorn balls. Katsuki put up the good fight but for once, his big mouth failed him and the other kid won and laughed brightly at Katsuki’s wet face. That came to a stop after Katsuki clocked the kid hard in the nose. Broke it. Had the kid crying up snort and blood in the school’s gymnasium. Katsuki was suspended for two weeks.
No one dared to outdo Katsuki in dodgeball, heads up seven up, softball, basketball, football. Though volleyball was safe but every guy out there wanted in on the basketball or football team.
So to say Izuku had some rightful fear in his heart was an understatement.
Katsuki drummed his fingers. “Come on, come on. It’s fucking whiskey, not cum.”
He scowled. “I can shoot whiskey.”
“Then do it. One. Two. Three.”
They tossed it back.
Izuku winced at the heavy burn, smacking his lips.
Katsuki did him a solid and filled his cup.
“Can’t I get a second?” He complained.
“No. Drink up, Deku.”
He closed his eyes and gunned it back. His body felt like someone dipped him in warm, slow tar.
Katsuki smiled, filling the glass. “Third one.”
“I’m going to die.” Izuku swallowed without thinking and slammed the glass with a hoot. “Oh fuck. It’s hitting me. I feel warm.”
“Look at little Deku, cursing and shit,” Katsuki teased with a grin that tugged as warmly as the whiskey.
“You’re not messed up?” He slurred.
“Nah.” He poured another round single-handedly. An obscene nature coated his movements, like a holographic coat over salon nails. Pencil thin, shimmery, translucent, stealing beams of light and reflecting back colors. “Got a high tolerance for alcohol.”
“And pain,” Shouto said. “That’s why we don’t drink him out. All that alpha blood.”
“He’s just pissy because I’m the better alpha.”
Shouto rolled his eyes. “You keep thinking that.”
“Pain?” Izuku asked, carefully lifting the glass. It moved, he didn’t trust it to find his mouth, or maybe, the whiskey was hitting him faster than he anticipated.
Eijirou laughed beside him. Apparently, their face off garnered quite the crowd of spectators. “Yea. Kacchan like broke his arm in fifth grade and he didn’t even cry.”
Minoru touched his opened mouth, disbelief in his voice. “Midoriya just keeps going and going.”
Mei nodded. “Hot.”
Ochako rolled her eyes, expression drier than the Savannah dessert. “Thirsty, I swear,” she commented to her mate.
“Who’s Tracey?” Tenya mumbled, drunk.
“Nothing, sweetie. Izuku! Don’t you quit, give us this gift. Make Katsuki admit defeat.”
Izuku bounced his head on the table, on the sixth shot. “I can’t.”
“He looks a little green,” Momo observed.
“Did you eat, Izuku?” Tsuyu bowed to be eye level with the table and Izuku, who loved the table for being so sturdy and stable.
Hitoshi watched with disapproval. “Stop pressuring him.”
“Whoa, aye, you guys hear a little bitch talking?” Katsuki asked the guys, a hand cupped to his ear.
“Find a broom and fuck it, Craft.”
Hitoshi shut it down with an icy stare and the alpha scrambled hurriedly for an explanation. “No. Like I wasn’t laughing. I just thought of a joke. He said craft and I thought of Kraft. You know. Like the cheese.”
“Surprise you guys think of only food, beer, and sex.”
“Not true.” Katsuki belched. “I’m thinkin’ of beating your ass right now.”
Shouto closed his eyes in pain. “This is why we can’t take you anywhere.”
“Shouto, back me up.”
“Is Midoriya alive? He’s not moving.” Minoru poked him.
Mina suggested. “Let’s chant. It will give him a surge of power like a video game. Izuku, Izuku, Izuku!”
A voice cowed from the adult table. “Hey, shut the hell up over there.” It sounded distinctively like Mr. Aizawa.
Izuku’s mom giggled, tipsy.
Aizawa continued his conversation.
Itsuka tapped her elbow, glaring at the older adults. “I can’t believe him. Stealing all the Rum Chata. I wanted blow jobs.”
Minoru raised his hand, a spark of mirth twinkled in his black eyes at the saucy redhead.
“Not actual blowjobs, c’mon!” She snarled.
He lowered it. “I came here to get fucked and Midoriya is the only one fucked up.”
“Sweetie, we should bake a hundred cinnamon rolls,” Tenya slurred. “I want to take you apart like a cinnamon bun.”
Ochako smiled encouragingly, and spoke slow like Tenya was a child. “Sure, sweetie. We’ll do that.”
Mina hovered behind Tenya with worry. “What did he drink?”
“Oh, nothing serious. He’s a total lightweight, poor thing. Three beers and he’s out like my internet connection during a bad storm.”
“Are we sure Minoru not a squirrel with how badly he needs to nut?” Hanta asked.
“Nice.” Katsuki bumped Hanta’s fist with pride.
Eijirou gasped. “Oh! I get it! Like he wants to nut and squirrels like nuts. I got it.”
Shouto ruffled his spiky red hair. “Good job, champ.”
Denki was taken so suddenly by his laughter that he rolled back into the chair and fell to the ground.
“I don’t want to hear that coming from a guy who came on his cat!” Minoru accused, mounting the table to jab an incensed finger at the lanky alpha.
Hanta held up his hands. “I didn’t—ladies, I assure you, I’m all about the pussy just not that pussy. I have a healthy appreciation for cats.”
“Not hot,” Mei crossed her arms, eyes narrowed in harsh judgment.
“Why are men so gross?” Ibara asked. “Why is everything about your dick?”
“Cocks rocks,” Katsuki answered.
“Is Midoriya dead or not? Can I have his shit if he’s dead?”
“He’s not dead,” Katsuki grumbled. “Look.” He lifted Izuku’s sleepy face off the table and shouted at him. “Deku! Deku! Wake the fuck up!”
“Wow. Such brilliance,” Hitoshi commented dryly.
Katsuki lowered Izuku’s head tenderly. “Let’s fight.”
“I’m not fighting you. Please, we’re not all animals like you.”
Izuku jolted up. “What happened? Where am I?”
“Party’s on, Midoriya’s not dead! Whoo!”
“I died?” Izuku looked at everyone.
Katsuki reclined coolly into the chair, bright and shimmery to Izuku’s drunken eyes. He blamed the honey sweet whiskey for canceling out the other bouncing bodies and placing the alpha under a stage light of white.
His blonde hair drooped over his eyes. “Oh man.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s gonna be a good time with you here.”
i want to put it out there that this is not a perfect relationship. i don't want to write one for this ship. i want a realistic one or what i see as realistic from my experience and others. relationships don't have beginnings and endings like these fanfics (i'm not throwing shade at this, i'm guilty too) where it's cute, no one really fights, etc. i wanted one where both sides have their weaknesses and strengths, where both characters have areas they need work in, where there are petty fights over petty things (like oh, i noticed u put so and so in ur top ten friends, remember myspace lol), where there is discussion on poor character flaws, where there are no discussions on them b/c no one is perfect and we all fuck up. i want this to be a bumpy start so they can grow.
a healthy relationship is not only one b/c u guys don't fight, support each other endlessly. a healthy one can have fights/disagreements, where one person has this nasty/annoying habit, but part of it is compromise and acceptance.
so be patient with me and this fic. we gonna slowly work our way up to these boys becoming softies but i want us to have a fun and silly time on the drive there, you know.
like i'm on chap 7, at 28k and our boys are still learning!
the morning after. Izuku has a saucy dream. Katsuki is nice...sort of. And Katsuki has rabid fans, surprise.
sorry this is late, RL is kicking my ass. i'm still writing but totally MIA on here. my mojo has left me to die.
yo, remember that dream/telepathic/physic sex (wtf do i call it?) tag, it starts boo.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Sun crawled through the window, along the floors, and up the form draped hazardously in sheets. Birds chirped from the tree outside his bedroom, diving from the branches to pick at the crumbs in between the blades of grass. Something metal clanked against the side of the house. His mother padded merrily from the third floor to the kitchen and started the sink.
Izuku shuffled from under the cover, saw the yellow dawn of morning and hissed back into the safe darkness. Everything ached. His brain, his body, his feet. Snippets of last night played like an old grainy film. Most of them were filled with Katsuki’s face and white teeth stuck in that chronically cocky smirk. He remembered drinking. Drinking some more. Dancing to Taylor Swift with the girls because he was the one trusted gay guy in the whole town. He might have done some body shots off a belly, not sure whose.
His mother padded into his room and opened the window. “Morning, baby,” she cheered brightly.
“Ugh.” He moaned in bed.
She lifted the sheet and smiled at Izuku’s hungover face. “Aw, you got wrecked?”
“I’m too hungover for you to be talking like that.”
She moved over and kissed his cheek. “I left you a glass of water and some Advil.”
Izuku closed his eyes. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be back. I’m heading to work.”
He grabbed his pillow and rolled over, intending to sleep the day away. He drifted back into a deep slumber in seconds and didn’t hear his mother say as she closed his bedroom door. “Oh, Katsuki’s here painting the house. If you’re feeling better later, could you help him? Thank you, baby.”
Izuku woke up a second time and snaked his hand from the mountain of blankets and blindly felt the nightstand for the glass and the pills. He found the small tablets, popped them, and sipped delicately on the water and put it back. His phone buzzed, he assumed it was his mom or maybe Ochako; he had given her and Tenya his new number, and he ignored it, thankful for the quiet of the rural town.
He would get up when the ice pick power-drilling between the soft tissue of his brain stopped or settled into something bearable.
Izuku hugged his pillow, humming sleepily, and fell into a dream.
He blinked. Saw an explosive blaze of blonde hair pillowed next to him and tickling his nose. A strong neck followed the root of hair. Then bugling shoulders. The scent tipped Izuku off— gasoline, black cigars, and alpha.
“Katsuki?” He called.
The alpha rolled, facing him. Long, full lashes framed his amber eyes. He didn’t think guys got lashes like that but he thought it looked good on the alpha, an unexpected delicacy. “Deku,” he said in his gruff morning voice. His omega curled, excited from the nasty grit of it.
“You’re in my bed,” he said. Something about that should bother him but he couldn’t remember why.
Actually, he fit suddenly—
In his childhood bedroom.
In his scent.
In his life.
Like a puzzle piece.
Like a missing game piece.
Dusted off and placed in order.
He wanted to laugh because Katsuki had always put him in a place of disorder since elementary school. His unwilling first crush, his unsuspecting bully.
He looked good—obviously, Katsuki possessed unfair beauty to fuel his monster of an ego—but he meant with the sheets to his chest, dust motes floating, the sun glaring. It shouldn’t work. Katsuki was a tornado, a natural disaster, to the calm that was Izuku. Tornadoes uprooted homes, trees, and cars yet Izuku was still there.
“Duh,” he purred, it chased down Izuku’s ear like liquid sugar. He propped his head up and kissed Izuku on the lips.
“Naked,” he realized when the second kiss arrived and Katsuki pressed his hard chest against him.
The morning glare traced the slow curl of his mouth. Izuku watched his white teeth and red tongue poking his gums. He felt a hot, wet cock pressed to his hip. The coarse curls of his pubic hair. A sudden greed, a hungry greed, a monstrous one filled him.
He wanted Katsuki like he never did before.
He had an appetite like he never did before.
An inhuman one.
An omega one.
It wasn’t like the few times Izuku had an alpha press him to the wall and sit him on a cock. Or the handy with from the drama major, Eric, back in his freshmen year. Not like the blowjob his old boyfriend gave him. They were hot and pleasant and he came with a soft moan and his hips bucking.
But with Katsuki, it was like riding wave after wave of heat and lust.
Katsuki dragged his mouth over his and didn’t make complete contact, ghosting. “That what happens when you fuck. Clothes on the floor. You under me. Great sex.”
“We fucked?” He asked, trying to bridge the gap.
Katsuki dipped back with a smirk, hair golden like lightning bugs.
Izuku remembered thinking that smirk was pretty when they were kids. He remembered thinking it was cruel when Katsuki made fun of him and played mean pranks. Izuku thought it was unfair that God gave Katsuki all this pretty in one part of him
“Yea. You’re mine, remember?”
He made a face as they kissed, asking as Katsuki groaned lowly into his mouth. “I’m yours, how?”
“Mate and all. Fucking ironic, right, a shit like you and prick like me.”
He pulled back. Mates, like true mate? Not only was that a very rare occurrence, no one in the modern age believed that old wives tale. “We’re not true mates.”
Katsuki scowled. “Yea. We are.”
“Uh. No. We’re not.”
“Yeah.” He snarled the words with a wet kiss.
Izuku really tried, man, really tried not to let Katsuki’s super wet tongue and hot hands pull out a moan but…yeah. Whoops.
“No,” he moaned into it, wondering if Katsuki tasted dark and bitter in his mouth then how did his cock taste?
Wait, Midoriya, you’re getting a little carried away—Katsuki is in your bed, naked, you guys just had sex, and he’s saying you guys are mates. Counter-argument.
Except the alpha didn’t have patience—which you couldn’t be surprised about; Katsuki couldn’t wait the full three minutes to microwave a burrito.
So Katsuki thought it was cool to put his fingers in him.
“Then why are you wet?” Katsuki’s fingers entered him and Izuku saw supernovas with the touch. He moaned and sank on the digits. The alpha started pumping in. “Look, see, your omega knows to get wet for my cock. I don’t even have to play with you, Deku. All wet. Like a pussy. My pussy to fuck.”
“Katsuki.” His omega had him parting his legs. Exposing. Presenting. Wet, wet, wet. He couldn’t think beyond the question—how fast can I ride him—and not much else. When he opened, it wasn’t enough. “F—fuck. Please. Fuck me.”
Katsuki shoved him on his back and widened his legs by putting his broad body there. Izuku wanted to cry for how that densely muscled body owned him. “You want dick, you say you’re mine.”
He arched, feeling prideful and sexy when Katsuki’s pornographic grin dropped to admire him and his body. “God. You’re such an ass.”
“My omega,” Katsuki breathed, dipped over his chest and kissed along the bone of his jaw.
Izuku clawed feverishly up his spine and into his hair and pressed down as Katsuki sucked noisily on his neck. He hooked his leg over his firm ass and rubbed their cocks. “Ah, fuck.”
“My mate,” the alpha— his alpha?— teethed into his skin.
“Katsuki,” he whimpered and reached hungrily between their bodies to find his cock.
Katsuki hissed at the contact and started whining with hopeful desperation as Izuku lifted his hips and lined the head to his entrance. The sound suckered a punch of air out of his lungs.
“Alpha,” he gasped, growing wild and wet with Katsuki’s cock pressed teasingly against his hole. “In. In. Want it in.”
Izuku tossed his head back, pushing his ass down mindlessly and failing to get his cock inside but earning instead hot drags of it over his wet hole. “Oh. Yeah. Alpha.”
Katsuki took his mouth with a smirk on it. His breath was heavy and moist. The room smelled like someone turned on all the stove tops and the oven and left it running overnight. “Again.”
“Al—ah, ah. Yes. Yes. Yes. Give me your cock—“
Izuku opened his eyes. Alone. No alpha. No Katsuki Bakugou. Still hard as a rock though and plenty wet between his cheeks.
Was that—did he just have a wet dream about Katsuki Bakugou?
He went for his phone, grateful the bright screen didn’t sear his retinas and drum an awful beat in his skull.
Midoriya: so kinda had a dream. With Katsuki. There was sexing. Idk who I am anymore
Uraraka: and…I had one too.
Midoriya: hes just so attractive? And a tool?? And hes good at it? Hes the badboy we’re supposed 2 stay away from. Like he stole my chocolate milk every day and its like I don’t care cuz hes hot
Uraraka: oh yea! You cried! And I gave u my milk and that’s how we became bffs
Midoriya: I didn’t cry
Midoriya: I did not!
Uraraka: why u always lying?
Iida: I have a confession
Midoriya: it’s open mic, throw it out there man
Iida: I had a dream as well
Midoriya: wait, wait. WHAT?
Uraraka: and u made me feel bad for having that sex dream!
Iida: I saw him at the park playing basketball.
Iida: it was an awakening.
Uraraka: OH! Yup, that would do it.
Iida: I have a reasonable and fair appreciation for men
Uraraka: oh I appreciate men too [winky emoji]
Midoriya: LOL same
Iida: I am being serious here!
Uraraka: its ok. U get to have a gay crush. Mine is Tsuyu
Midoriya: no lie if I was straight, I go for u
Uraraka: aw, u would be mine too. Omg our kids would be so cute tho with my face and ur eyes.
Midoriya: YES. What did u want? I would like a boy and a girl
Iida: I AM YOUR HUSBAND
Iida: I HatE CaPS
Izuku locked his phone and laid in bed for a few extra minutes. He wasn’t at a hundred but the Advil eased the worst of his hangover. His mouth tasted like honey and fire and potato salad. The party raved on until one a.m. Ochako and Tenya were some of the last to leave as they helped Izuku’s mom with the after party clean up. Katsuki stood too, he remembered, and made fun of Izuku when he fell on his face trying to pick a bottle. Izuku might have thrown said bottle at the alpha, a can, and missed brilliantly and caused Katsuki to snort louder.
It was still a strange feeling. To be around Katsuki without his scorn. Maybe a lot of his anger back in the day was the alpha running through his like an overfilled sink. Katsuki seemed different. Approachable. The teasing seemed more harmless now compared to high school and eight years was plenty of time for Katsuki to look around his Godzilla sized ego and see what a jerk he was to Izuku.
He was the only one here in this equation holding on to it.
Well starting from this point, Izuku would be nothing but polite.
Izuku stripped off his clothes by the shower and drew the plastic curtain and stepped inside. Eyes closed to the shower head, Izuku let himself drift under the warm spray and refused to give in to the image of Katsuki in his bed. Though his cock curled between his legs, thinking otherwise on the matter.
That was gross.
Izuku dragged his wet fingers down his stomach to his navel. He heard Katsuki’s dark voice, thought about him shoving his legs open, imagined the hard way Katsuki would fuck him—if he was an aggressive alpha in life then he would be an absolute beast in bed. Probably all snarls, dirty talk, and bruising thrusts.
Izuku brushed the hair above his cock, shivering, and curled his fingers slowly around his base.
He stroke, arm bracing against the wall. “Ah. Fuck.” He hissed.
He pumped again, watching his hand slide up and down his dick, and moaned softly. “Crap.” He closed his eyes and chewed his lip and bucked.
Izuku thought of porn, old boyfriends, hot tens he saw walking up and down the beaches of L.A. to stir a fantasy but the faces morphed into Katsuki’s explosive one. Their voices dipped into his tar black voice. All their encounters from the night before played out like a porno— Izuku’s broken down Nissan; Katsuki scooped him up and laid him, stomach first on the hood, and eased his pants over his ass.
The brief one on one in the kitchen— Katsuki hoisted him on the counter, pulled his pants down, and slicked his ass with hungry eyes while Izuku jacked off.
The drive to the liquor store— Izuku braced his arm on the roof as he rode the alpha, rocking that black car and misting the windows, no one the wiser with the music booming and the night drenched in darkness.
Heat leaked out his ass. His omega whined.
Izuku sucked two fingers and reached between his legs.
Fuck, he was horrible. Thinking about Katsuki. All the guys in his graduating class and Katsuki was the object of his wet dreams.
He swallowed a moan as he stretched his ass. Heat roared in his veins. His heart drummed thunderously in his ears. He didn’t realize someone walked into the bathroom until he heard the sound of water hitting water.
“Kastuki?!” He shouted, gripping the plastic curtain with galloping horses. Izuku felt like a sinner, in his mother’s bathroom, in her bath, right next to her soap dish too. Shame.
Katsuki looked up, peeing, and very okay with his cock out and Izuku looking down once. “Oh, Deku. Sup.”
Fine, last one!
“What are you doing?” He asked the ceiling.
He tapped one of the porcelain cat statues on the shelf above the toilet. “My dick’s out. What do you think?”
Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Wait, how did you get in my house? Why are you peeing in my house? Why are you here as I’m showering and peeing? Am I still dreaming?”
“I know it’s hard to believe I’m so hot—“
“That’s not.” His cheeks ran through a wide spectrum of red. “—that’s not what I mean! Stop that.”
The alpha smirked, looking straight at him. “Stop what? Deku.”
Izuku hid himself. “Stop it.”
“You’re making this fucking difficult. See you stopped the stream now I have to will it.”
Izuku went behind the curtain. “Ugh. Ew. I can hear it.”
“Shut the fuck up, man, I almost. Oh yea,” Katsuki moaned throatily. “Got it. Fuck that feels amazing.”
Izuku sang to drown out the sound. “This dude named Michael used to ride motorcycles. Dick bigger than a tower, I ain't talking about Eiffel's.”
“Are you singing?”
“Can’t hear you pee if I sing!”
“You’re painting my house?” Izuku asked when he walked on the grass. “Why?”
“Because fuck you that’s why,” Katsuki answered from the ladder.
“Are you being paid?”
“No,” he said, dipping the brush in the pan.
Izuku watched his naked shoulders move as he swiped the old peeling paint with a fresh coat. Sweat ran between the bunched muscles and into the waistband of his jeans. Perfect dimples framed his ass.
Izuku sucked on his bottom lip. “Are you being paid in beer?”
Katsuki flicked the brush and stained Izuku’s face and shirt with small droplets of paint. “Hey,” he complained.
“Shut up and help.”
Izuku filled another pan with paint and got started on painting the other section. Katsuki’s Challenger was in the garage and played what he assumed was Katsuki’s playlist on his iPhone because the genre jumped between classic rock, metal, and hardcore rap. Izuku ignored the sun as it practically fondled and glowed on Katsuki’s naked back.
Katsuki peered over his shoulder, dripping sweat. “You’re fuckin’ slow, Deku.”
“How are you not hungover?” He groaned.
“Because I’m the best.” Katsuki uncapped a water bottle and downed it. He upended the rest over his head, and Izuku didn’t really need that.
He could live without Katsuki wet and shirtless with the sun turning him into a bronze god.
But he was getting it regardless; heaven or hell, you decide.
“That’s not an answer,” he said, looking at the slow progress he made on the house compared to Katsuki’s section which was drying under the sun.
“Did you eat?”
Izuku dipped his brush, dragged the wet end over the wood. “No.”
“Well no fucking wonder,” the alpha scoffed at his snail pace. “Course your ass is gonna be shit if you don’t eat. Let’s go.”
“I don’t wanna eat,” he whined, jutting out his bottom lip.
“Deku,” Katsuki pitched his voice gritty. “Get your fucking ass in the car.”
Izuku tracked his eyes up; sunlight silhouetted Katsuki’s body and lined him in gold edges. He spoke as he abandoned the task, each word taxed him greatly and either he talked or he painted. Talking seemed easy and it required no moving. “Why do I feel like if I say no, you’ll force me in there?”
“Sass me and find out.”
The last time he did that, he woke the morning with a hangover and a sex dream.
He tossed the brush in the pan, groaning as his joints popped. “You’re so aggressive.”
“Fuck you,” he said without the bite of hostility. “I’m nice.”
Laughter started in his chest but he caught it and sputtered out a breath. “Yea, okay, sure.”
“I’m playing the music really fucking loud for you, Deku.”
Mina walked to their table with a notepad and a pen in her dated yellow daisy uniform. “Morning, Katsuki! Oh, Izuku, hey man I had a lot of fun last night. You’re really good at twerking, you should teach me how to do that. Like look, if I twerk it just flops but you make it look like those girls on Youtube.”
“I didn’t twerk,” he said slowly. “Did I?”
“Whoa,” she said. “You don’t remember?”
Izuku pulled his hood over his head. “Please tell me no on recorded—“
“Here, we go. Deku, twerking to Single Ladies,” Katsuki said, sliding the screen to Izuku. “Top ten.”
“You jerk,” he whimpered.
Mina took the phone. “See! Like that, look at how awesome your butt is. Right, Katsuki?”
The alpha leaned over and watched the homemade video for a few seconds. “Eh.”
“Eh?” Izuku blurted, feeling weirdly insulted by the remark.
Katsuki looked at him with a bored face. “What, you want me to like your ass?”
“I didn’t say that!”
Mina handed Katsuki his phone. “Sorry about that, what you fellas having? Regular for you, Baku?”
“Yea, and whatever he wants.”
Izuku looked up from the menus, the lip of his hood falling off and pooling over his shoulder. “Oh, you don’t have to.”
“Deku, fucking order, alright?” He grumbled, appearing uncomfortable under Izuku’s soft gaze. “And don’t be a pussy about it and order the cheapest shit on here. You see my car,” He jerked his head to the window overlooking the parking out where the Challenger curbed the sidewalk. “I got the money. Now fucking order.”
“Ok.” Izuku felt himself smile. “Thanks. Uh could I get the number five please, with the eggs scrambled?”
Mina grabbed their menus. “Two number five coming right off. You guys want some coffee?”
“Please,” Izuku answered, then remembered. “Uh, do you want some too, Katsuki?”
“Yea, why not?” He said, playing distractedly on his phone. “Hey, you have Facebook.”
Returning with a pot, Mina filled two cups and left a dish with prepackaged caps of liquid creamer. He thanked her for the both of them and started adding sugar and cream. “Um, it’s private but yea.”
“Sent you a request. Accept it.”
“You sent me a friend request…” Izuku stopped stirring his spoon.
Katsuki failed to meet his searching expression and made his cup. “What? Accept it, asshole.”
“Yea. Okay.” Izuku opened the app and accepted the request.
His feed filled up with posts from Katsuki’s page, he scrolled down curious to get a glimpse at Katsuki’s life via social media and halted at one picture. It was Katsuki, shirtless, and in shorts as he circled a bag with his fists raised to his face. The caption read when ya boy is a beast. Eijirou had taken the photo and tagged Katsuki in it but it garnered an alavanche of likes, loves, and comments. The first comments were actually friends and Katsuki bickering about Eijirou taking pictures but the rest were the pro-alpha’s fans.
Without the billboards or the posters, Izuku forgot about his sort of celebrity status. He became only aware of it in L.A. when Katsuki’s first match was coming. It was the talk then because Katsuki came from a small town and a current student of former alpha pro, Yagi, who stepped back from the limelight after holding the champion title for ten years without defeat.
Izuku caved eventually and paid the price to stream the match.
Even when he wouldn’t voice it out loud during the fight, Katsuki was a beast and he dominated that ring like he did with everything else. When the loser rolled on the floor with his nose broken and his dreams shattered, Katsuki smiled with blood on his forehead.
“Did you accept?” Katsuki asked.
“Sorry. I did. Why does it—“ The app dinged with a notification. He clicked and it linked him to another page. The video took a second to buffer before it played. Izuku saw himself on the screen. “No. You didn’t.”
In the video, the sound distorted as the crowd hooted and catcalled at the top of their lungs. Then came the music, Beyonce’s Single Ladies.
Katsuki mocked Izuku’s dance moves poorly. “Oh, oh, oh.”
“I hate you. I hate you.”
“Don’t be a pussy. Dance.”
Izuku could hear Mina’s pure scream of joy and her boss screaming at her that the kitchen was not an acceptable place to twerk on.
Izuku’s phone vibrated as the comments came in from everyone who went to the party.
Eijirou: baby got BACK!
Shouto: I hope you asked Midoriya before you posted this.
Denki: apple bottomed jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club looking at her
Ibara: OMG, Izuku can dance! I can’t even walk in heels.
Momo: when boys dance better than you breathe
Tenya: not my type of music but excellent performance. We can barely tell you’re drunk.
Tenya: wait, this happened? When?
Christine: OMG, who is this??? A boyfriend?!
Tsuyu: ^ baku’s fangirls are here, every1 leave
Hanta: fuck, now my shit gonna blow up cuz of u
Cindy: stupid, baku’s straight.
Kimberly: Excuse you, if you read his interview in Muscle Man, Bakugou came out as bi. Scrub.
Mei: GO AWAY FANGIRLS
Cindy: @Kimberly where sur proof? Link me. @Mei fuck U!
Mei: bitch ur ten. Do ur homework
Shouto: Katsuki, your fans.
Katsuki: what? Its funny.
Izuku: PLEASE STOP EVERYONE. NO FIGHTING
Denki: imam meme them until they get annoyed. Brace urself.
Eijirou: save us!!
Brittany: Bakugou! Where r u? :(
Minoru: ladies just a quick S/O, im a great friend of Katsuki. And single. Feel free to visit my page
Steph: best ass 100/100
Hanta: the night is dark and full of terrors
Christine: aw hes so cute. Are u guys dating @Izuku?
Luis: y do u girls make everything gay? Stop shipping real ppl
Tenya: Midoriya and Bakugou are not dating. Please don’t assume other people’s relationship. This is private.
Kimberly: @Tenya GO FACK UrsELF @Luis Ill make EVERYTHING gay
Ochako: @Kimberly don’t be talking that way to my man
Luis: go watch ur Sherlock @Kimberly
Mei: don’t bother, Ochako. Shes not worth it
TaylorSonic: fap to dis
Shouto: turning off my phone now.
Momo: omg, Bakugou! Make this account private.
Logan: yo, when we gonna get one of you, bakugou? You can fight but can you dance
Tsuyu: the circle is complete ^ this post is dead for us
Richard: would eat that ass all night long, hmu IZUKU MIDORIYA
Katsuki: aye, dichard, eat cock
Solomon: YO IZUKU TAKE UR CLOTHES OFF
Ian: I eat ass Izuku. Message me
Katsuki tongued the corner of his lips, oblivious to the warm meal in front of him.
Izuku reached over and took his phone.
He barked. “Hey, asshole.”
“Eat.” He set his fork and butter knife on either side of his plate and ripped out three napkins and set those as well. Izuku sat down. “Now my butt is all over the internet. Unbelievable.”
Katsuki’s phone vibrated.
The alpha looked.
Izuku slapped his hand over it. “Don’t even try it.”
now before someone says I 'fucked up' my own fic with adding smut this early. 1, it's to develop emotional vulnerability, rn it was more sexual b/c its new to izuku and katsuki but will progress to more emotional sex. but it is to break the barriers they have via RL since in a 'dream' u don't have the same reservations (the actual smut will be dirty, i got u boo) 2, i wanted to try a new bonding trick w/ the a/o bonds. 3, the dreams/telepathic sex will be short, brief, and mild. but if ur coming into my works expecting pretty, clean sex then gurl u came to the wrong writer.
fic progress atm: chapter 8, 36,000 words
Izuku learns to cope with his Katsuki filled life. Katsuki has beef with someone new, gotta keep up with the routine.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Izuku turned his head and saw Shouto on the other side of the frosted glass door, dressed casually in a plain silk pajama suit.
He straightened and closed it, balancing a tub of ice cream on his hip. “Oh, Torodoki. Hey, you shopping alone?” He asked when he noticed Momo, Shouto’s mate, wasn’t attached to him.
“Yea. The wife wanted some late night snack.” He lifted the basket loaded with name brand candy and chips. You?”
“Same. I came for ice cream.”
He smiled. “I told Katsuki something about the video. He can be an ass like that sometimes. I think he wanted to…welcome you back.”
“Oh. I mean, it was embarrassing at first but after the 30 messages asking if I’m DTF, which stands for down to fuck, did you know that, uh. Where was I?” He tapped his chin. “Oh, I got over it. People were nicer than I thought even if they wanted to bang. It’s okay. He kinda apologized to me by taking me for food. By force but I think he operates like that.”
“Eijirou is the one person who doesn’t fight Katsuki on anything.”
“Yea, hey I hope this isn’t rude but I’m surprised to see you and Katsuki hanging out. You guys used to argue a lot.” Izuku massaged the back of his neck nervously, hoping he wasn’t sticking his nose into any private matter. Katsuki was a friend, in a way; Shouto was someone he knew from a distance throughout elementary and high school.
“It’s fine.” The alpha shrugged. “I was surprised by it too.”
“So what happened?”
“We fucked. Got rid of all that sexual tension.” Shouto said with zero inflection, making it impossible to tell if he was being earnest or fucking with him.
What wasn’t impossible to read was the hot lash of jealousy churning his stomach
“I’m messing with you,” he said, again with no inflection to his voice.
He made a face, still very confused. “Oh?”
“No, really, it’s a joke.”
He laughed hesitantly. “Oh. Okay.”
“I’m bad at jokes,” he said with dejection.
Izuku burst suddenly into a fit of cute giggles in the quiet store. “Sorry, just the way you said it. You sounded so bummed.”
“I get pity laughs.”
Izuku clapped a hand over his mouth and made awful aborted giggles against it.
“Anyway, we just kind of hung out. He would be at the bar. I would be there too. I was going to school at the time for business. He was training to get into Pros.”
He shifted his feet. “Yes, it’s not an exciting story like people assume.”
“No. It’s just nice.”
“He’s not that terrible of a guy. Not that it was okay of him to mess with you but he’s really shitty at handling his own stuff. “
No, not terrible. He was just…Katsuki. A special brand of a person, a mix up of different traits. He could be kind in his own way. Funny but that took a deal to get used to because Katsuki’s jokes sounded more like insults. Sweet, it startled him how tender Katsuki treated his mother. Granted he cursed and was abrasive as always but he toned a lot of it down for her.
It made him jealous at first, Midoriya grew up alone and never had his mom dote on anyone but him. Now it was nice to catch Katsuki being this new person in secret. Sometimes he would pass by while on his morning jog and his mom would be watering the grass and Katsuki dropped everything to chat or carry the heavy bag of soil.
Izuku moved the frosty carton to his other hand. “Well, he never went as far as other people go but I don’t let it bother me that much anymore. It’s in the past.”
“Good to know. I gotta get back to the wife.” He motioned with the basket.
“Sure. It was nice talking to you.”
Izuku glared outside where Katsuki was currently and repeatedly making his life a living hell. Hell as in hot. Minus the eternal torture, unless said torture was fighting off boners and feelings that had no business swirling in his gut or heart, then yea torture.
So maybe it was hell.
His omega didn’t think so but he wouldn’t give that guy much credit given that omegas cared about cock and bonding and other messy emotional junk. Slap the status of rogue, which made him an eyesore if you cared deeply for the tradition of omegas serving one primary role of nurturer, and he had to battle the mushiness of omega along with the unshakeable force of an alpha. So sometimes, Izuku wanted to curb Katsuki’s anger and put him on a cloud to sleep, and the other half of the time he wanted to punch Katsuki and maybe ride him angrily.
Izuku didn’t buy into the whole thing. Who really cared for those tired ways of thought? Any pairing could be a successful one. Your status shouldn’t dictate what did or how you acted. He lucked out here, despite it being a little more rural, people weren’t close minded. You had the occasional homophobe but that was to be expected anywhere.
Movement caught his eye.
Izuku adjusted his body sideways and held a book to his face.
Katsuki ran in shorts, body a glistening god and the reason they had three vehicular accidents this month, as he jammed to his headphones. His pecs bounced. So did his butt, not that Izuku was actively looking for it.
But…yea, he was a dirty, dirty perv.
Izuku stuck his head out once Katsuki passed his house and watched that perfect butt bounce all the way to the corner.
He hummed in dreamland, which included Katsuki now.
Katsuki: jackass. Ur book was upside down btw.
Izuku: that’s how I read. Jealous?
Izuku scrolled down his Facebook feed, someone—a fan no doubt since the name was unfamiliar to him—tagged Katsuki to a YouTube video with the caption.
Tyler Smith -> Katsuki Bakugou
Yo man, Fujimi calling you out! Gonna let that shit fly?
Katsuki answered the post an hour after it posted.
Katsuki: fuck him @ Romero Fujimi, you wanna fight? Set the shit up, I’m ready.
Romero: yea? Think you can last, they call me the Undertaker for a good reason.
Katsuki: lmao, shit chill with the WWE names asshat.
Romero: I will put u down under three mins
Katsuki: fuck outta here. 3 minutes, bitch, your match r 12 mins long cause u fuckin suck on landing shots that count.
Cathy: oh god please tell me this is happening
Justin: @Romero when was the last time ur ass was relevant, attacking Katsuki is a nice way to save your failing career.
Kristen: Fuck Bakugou. Fujimi FTW.
Dean: wow baku’s fan are so fucking delusional. He’s a rook, stands no chance, got lucky cuz his trainer was Yagi. Way to ride the coattails, lazy fuck.
Megan: a rook? Lmao, did u see his match with Tetsutetsu? No luck there. Pure talent my friend.
Sam: shit imma need a drink from all this salt
Gabe: refer urself to this vid, friend
It was another video link, labeled Katsuki Bakugou Top K.O.s.
He followed the link, curious.
Overlaid with a song by Imagine Dragons, the video was a collection of clips from Katsuki’s various match ups. And Izuku would’ve been cool if it was just Katsuki knocking out alphas but the clips selected painted him in a seductive light. Also the vid maker added slow-mo like a 300 movie in the frames that basically fucked Katsuki via camera. Dragging up his shiny torso. Finding his amber eyes when he moped up blood off his lip. Catching his hard jaw when he jeered his opponent with a smile that enraged some and ensnared others with its brutal grace like how chainsaws were pretty in a manner of perspective. Katsuki was that, a dressed up explosive.
He lost track of time, only coming out of the trance when the next video autoloaded, another Katsuki’s vid but a tribute one. Themed with a sexy beat and a plethora of glamor shots from his matches, his public appearances on talk shows, and his photo shot with Calvin Klein—oh my god, he was being facetious when he made the joke.
Katsuki actually modeled for Calvin Klein.
Oh man, he hated Katsuki Bakugou so much.
Hate, hate, hate.
Izuku liked the video and clicked on the most promising one with Katsuki’s dark face on the thumbnail.
More glamor shots.
More slow mo.
More dark color schemes to highlight Katsuki’s over the top chiseled build—it felt like peeping into a thirteen-year-old fantasy of what a real man should be; hunky, indifferent, misunderstood, aloof.
Wow, Katsuki was Edward Cullen of the pro-alphas.
More nasty beats and equally raunchy comments from fans who wanted Katsuki to do a number of things to them.
Would you like an example?
Here, oh and get ready cause they were exquisitely X-rated; spit on, spanked, fucked raw, tied up, punched, forced to gargle on his cum, would pay to drink his pee— Izuku started to scroll back up at this point because he had a line when it came to idols he adored and lusted after.
Izuku watched a few more; Katsuki’s fans were quite the talented bunch and had the editing skills to replace today’s filmmakers. The fanarts were excellent too, some very generous about Katsuki’s dick size—sorry ladies, he wasn’t that hung. Izuku was tempted to save one as his wallpaper of Katsuki draped in a heavy cape with a dragon at his back but he knew if anyone caught sight of it, he would never hear the end of it. He liked the style.
Izuku drew the line at the reader insert fanfictions.
Katsuki was not that cut, boys and girls, chill.
When he thought about it, Katsuki was down to earth for someone with such a massive following. Besides the car and the ego, which Katsuki was surgically attached to like a twin, he acted like the common man.
If the common man was unfairly attractive, hotter than dynamite and molten gold, had Herculean strength, had abs to put Goliath on the bench questioning his abilities, and a natural talent to excel at anything and everything.
He opened a new tab, went to Google, and typed into the search bar Katsuki Bakugou. His inactive Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook came up, along with articles about previous fights, and a recent report from Buzzfeed about the trade of words between Katsuki and Romero, Shots Fired: Baku vs Fuijimi Showdown. Word spread fast it seemed. Loyalists sided with the veteran pro-fighter while the majority rooted for Katsuki.
Izuku clicked to images link and ah—there was Katsuki in Calvin Klein underwear shaded in a painter’s brush of black and white, posed against the wall with his thumbs hooked into the white waistband and a face with his trademark like I could give a shit look. A plain photo. No extra pretty models to hang off him. No Lambos, Ferraris, diamonds on the knuckles, gold between his teeth, . Yet, Izuku felt his insides go into a blender and come out scrambled and disoriented.
But Katsuki was working him like a black hole now, sucking, tugging, dragging Izuku along.
He clicked the tab closed, guilty as a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Yes?” He blinked at Hitoshi. Hopefully he didn’t see him bullshitting on the computer. He stapled a random stack of paper just to sell the image of a dedicated worker.
Hitoshi leaned elegantly against his cubicle. “That’s the menu for Nova’s pizza.”
Izuku flushed, seeing that yes, he stapled the take-out menu to a blank sheet of paper. He couldn’t conceive a convincing lie. “Uh.”
He dismissed it, smile kind and charming. “Don’t worry about it. We all mess around here.” He tapped his fingers on his thighs. “Hey, did you take your lunch?”
“No. I kinda overslept this morning so I didn’t make anything. I was thinking of heading to the diner.”
By overslept, he might Katsuki kept his ass up well past midnight with memes and stupid texts.
“Mind if I join?” He asked.
“Oh?! I mean, sure.”
They clocked out and walked to the diner. Mina jotted their order on the notepad and went into the kitchen. An awkward silence swallowed the booth. He was here not that long ago with Katsuki, hungover and hungry and a bit horny, but they had a good time. Katsuki made him laugh, which you wouldn’t suspect from someone who looked so angry.
Izuku looked out the window into the parking lot with a small, irrational part of him willing Katsuki’s black Challenger to roll up.
Mina came back with a pot and filled their cups. “Be about 15 minutes for yall food.”
“Thank you,” Hitoshi said and drank the coffee straight.
“Wow,” he gasped, legitimately impressed and suspicious. No normal person drank coffee black.
Hitoshi set his cup down, tracking a thumb over the stubble shadowing his jaw. “Yea. I’m very basic when it comes to coffee,” he laughed bashfully.
Izuku slapped the packets of sugar against his palm. “Not me. I like it sweet.” He tore off the side and tipped the sugar.
“You’re plenty sweet,” Hitoshi flirted then flushed when Izuku looked at him. “Sorry.”
“Uh.” He stirred the spoon, eyes jumping anywhere but Hitoshi. “That’s nice of you to say. I’m sorry, are you trying to flirt with me?”
Hitoshi ran one hand over the other. “Yea. Badly. But yeah.”
“Oh?” Heat washed his face, somewhere in the valley of flattered and uncomfortable. His omega paced the walls of his body, acting no better than a neglected cat.
“Please, don’t feel pressured. We don’t have to do anything,” he said. “This is us getting lunch as friends.”
“But you like me?” He asked
“You’re kinda putting me on the spot…”
Mina clicked her heels over and asked loudly. “How’s the coffee? You need a refill?”
Hitoshi gave her a strange look. “We’re good, thanks.”
“You sure?” The omega pressed, half over the table. “What about you, Izuku?”
“I’m okay, Mina. Thanks.”
“No problem, give me a holler if you need anything.”
Her boss slapped the counter, shouted in a disgruntled voice. “Mina, order up!”
Mina set one hand on her hip and balanced the pot of coffee. “Don’t be yelling. I’m right here.” Her skirt swirled around her tanned legs, pink hair looking identical to cotton candy with the evening sun streaming through the window.
“So…how’s your mother?” Hitoshi started.
Izuku sighed, relieved that Hitoshi decided to skip their conversation. “Good. I’m kinda looking for something of my own.”
His mother turned. Dinner over and dishes drying, they worked on dessert. “You don’t have to look at apartments, baby, stay here. You can get the house when I die!”
Izuku placed the carton of eggs down. “Mom, please don’t say that.”
“Well, I’m not dying now but in a few decades.”
“Aw, sorry, sweetheart.” She pulled his head close and pecked his temple, ruffling his dark curls. “I just mean you don’t have to get your own place. Why waste the money? Or is it that you want some privacy for when you bring boys over, on my honor, I won’t make a peep. Or I can go out with Aizawa and Yamada when you have company. I don’t mind.”
“Boys? Mom, it’s not that. You don’t think it’s…weird for me to be living with you at my age?”
“No. How is that weird? I love having you back and do you know how many of your friends still live with their parents? Denki and Minoru are living in the basement.”
“That’s not a good thing.”
“Shouto is the only one I know who has his own place but that’s cause Momo’s father bought them a house as a wedding gift. But he pays the mortgage by himself.”
“He just bought them a house?”
“Well, you know how her father is.” She rubbed her fingers together—money. “Nothing but the best for his little girl. Oh! Then there’s Tenya and Ochako, but even their parents helped them make the down payment. You shouldn’t feel bad about getting help from your mother.”
“I mean if you’re sure it’s not an inconvenience.”
“No!” She insisted. “I missed you so much. I’m actually happy you decided to come back.”
“I’ll help pay the gas and the lights.”
“Well of course, I gave you the first two months free. You’re paying now,” she teased
He laughed. “You…” He sputtered into a dorky smile.
God, he missed her. Missed the creaky floorboards. Missed that half the people here knew his name and face. Missed the stars that were easier to find in this part of the world.
“Yo!” Katsuki barged in, eyes bright and skin a glossy gold— Tiffany’s jewelry were green with envy. He hugged his mom with one arm and poked the batter, licking his finger.
“Katsuki!” She batted his greedy hands.
“What are you doing here?” Izuku asked, annoyed. Could Katsuki not see he was enjoying his Katsuki-free day?
“Cookies. Don’t be fucking greedy, Deku.” He dumped his duffel bag and bumped Izuku with his hip.
Izuku yanked on his tank to keep himself horizontal and promptly jerked it back, skin tacky. “Oh my god, why are you so wet?”
“Katsuki,” his mother pinched the alpha.
“Shit, my bad, Misses M.”
Izuku wiped his hand on a rag, scrunching his nose. “You’re so gross.”
Katsuki grabbed his hand. “Think that’s wet. Feel this shit.” He flattened his palm under his shirt and down his—my god, my god— abs. “Still gross?”
Felt assaulted by a million sensations. Heard his heart beat anywhere but in his chest like it was in the witness protection program and relocated when it position became compromised. Arousal worked slow like a cobra in the grass; slithered; and poisoned him into one ball of need and ache.
His fingers screamed.
The skin under it expanded and collapsed with controlled breaths.
Izuku didn’t track his eyes up to gauge Katsuki’s face; wasn’t that brave in the moment—it might suck if a smirk sat there, locked, kind of unaffected by his hand.
He’s hot, he rationalized. Anyone would grow red at the smallest touch. Just a natural reaction. Natural.
His palm buzzed from the heat steaming off the alpha’s skin. “It’s like sticking my hand in the toilet.”
Katsuki let him go and smelled his pit, bicep flexing. Maybe he should put his head in the oven, that would be more preferable than watching, smelling, and seeing Katsuki in this state. Even his post-workout scent was unfairly divine, an artful cocktail shot of alpha, sweat, and testosterone on overdrive “Shit. I smell like one too. Aye, using your shower, Misses M.”
“That’s fine, dear,” she approved, rolling out perfect spheres on the tray.
Katsuki stole one and popped it into his mouth before his mom could reprimand him for his impatience.
She frowned at him, stern, her mouth quirked minutely with the beginning of a smile. “You take that shower or there’ll be no cookies,” his mother threatened, her petite frame and round face negated any ounce of intimidation; the threat working no better than a tea cup poodle nipping at your heels.
He nodded, visibly running his red tongue over his gums. Shouldn’t be hot, was in fact hotter than exploding supernovas and the earth’s core; an untamed feeling bubbled in his chest—the buzz you got off from clear bottles; the shockwaves from machinery in use; jackhammers to the cement; bulldozers terraforming the soil and the rocks— and he knew the catalyst for it was golden, arrogant, and a flamethrower of an alpha compared to his candlelight tough rogue omega.
Izuku gaped. “Mom! That’s our shower.”
Katsuki walked backward, a cocksure smirk aimed at Izuku while his face flooded with a hundred shades of red, and took more than just an uncooked ball of cookie dough with him as he exited out the kitchen door.
“Oh, that’s not the first time he used our shower,” she explained dismissively; Izuku couldn’t fathom how she thought it was fine to have someone like Katsuki in their shower.
“Excuse me?” He asked her, incredulous.
Katsuki used his shower, where he got naked, soapy, and slippery with his body soap and conditioner. Izuku sank to his elbows on the counter and cradled his head, mind steamy like their bathroom after a hot shower.
His mother hovered with hands powdered with flour. “Izuku, you feeling okay?”
“Fine,” he wheezed. “Just fine and dandy. No problems here.”
I can’t ever use that shower again.
I will have to bathe in the backyard with the hose.
life been kinda hectic so i kept forgetting to update this. sorry! i'm on chapter 10 so there'll be smaller gaps between updates once I'm done.
Hanta tapped him on the shoulder. “Aye, Katsuki, is that Izuku with Hitoshi?”
Katsuki balanced the basketball on his index finger and let it blur, turning with a barking laugh as the air cooled his flushed skin. Midoriya with that clown, ha, please. “Shut the fuck up, there’s no way—that mother fucker.”
His smile deflated, the perfect balance established to keep the ball on the center of his finger wavered and it dribbled on the court. Hitoshi struck up a conversation with the omega, inching close, his eyes warm with admiration as he stared at Izuku’s freckled smile. They seemed close; Izuku relaxed around him and traded a laugh at something the alpha said.
Clouds shifted out of the sun. Izuku blinked at the light; Katsuki was too far to see clearly for himself but he had a vivid memory of how the light touched the green of his eyes, how it colored it intense and unreal, how that color bewitched a person.
It instantly pissed him off.
“Oohh.” Eijirou stomped on the rolling ball and wedged his feet under it, kicking it upward and received it on the dip down. “Someone’s jelly.”
Shouto popped his mouth off his water bottle, cheeks powdered with pink. “This is getting ridiculous. Stop fighting with everyone.”
A scowl worked on Katsuki’s face as he grumbled darkly to himself. “And look at his dumb ass hair, why does he look like he’s trying to go super saiyan, you know? Wannabe. Shitty hair. Zombie eyes dick.”
“You’re not even listening to me. Stop that.”
“Mina told me they get lunch together every day,” Denki said, egging on Katsuki’s fury with a tiny grin.
Shouto pinned Denki with a silencing scowl. “Why would you—“
“Lunch?” Katsuki said with a state of awareness.
Eijirou was all too familiar with that nuclear set to his face. “Oh no.”
“You guys wanna bet something?” Katsuki challenged, his lips quirked into a less charming version of his lady-killer smirk.
“Dunno, you look all murderous.”
“No. Stop,” said Shouto, feeling weary at mothering his friends once again.
“What kind of bet we talking?” Hanta pried. “What’s the pot?”
Shouto scolded. “Jesus, Hanta.”
“Aye, I got bills,” he said, then gestured an accusing finger at Katsuki and Shouto. “I ain’t loaded like you two, Mr. Billionaires.”
“Hanta, I told you before. It’s a million.”
He chewed down a grin, showing Shouto his middle finger. “Fuck you.”
“I bet…” Katsuki started.
“Let’s all ignore Shouto. Fucking Debbie Downer.”
Denki shooed him. “Go sit down, Debbie.”
“You guys always call me Debbie. I’m sick of it.”
“Debbie’s sassy today, boys,” Katsuki joked.
“What’s your stupid bet?”
“Oh so now I’m stupid?”
“Yes and by proxy, everything you do is stupid too.”
“This is why none of you are married,” Shouto clarified to his date-less friends.
“I don’t need no ball and chain. Imma free spirit.”
“Yea. That’s why you’ve been on Izuku’s dick the second he came back.”
“I don’t like him,” he said. Lied?
“Are you serious right now?” Shouto prodded, Katsuki tried to answer but the alpha interrupted him. “No, like I mean it, are you seriously telling me that you’re not in any way attracted to him?”
“Yea,” he lied. Definitely a lie because kid Deku had big teeth, freckles, and a voice pitched so high only dogs picked it up. Cute to a degree but easily outshined. Adult Izuku had the freckles; his teeth fit his mouth, his voice deepened, and his scrawny pre-teen body filled out into a man’s body with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. A late bloomer for certain but damn, did he bloom. Now he outshined their town, earning double takes at the store and on the street
Everyone had a bit of a shock when he turned up, looking Cali fine. Katsuki had mistaken him for another person on the road, seeing soft beauty splashed by the headlight of his car in that brief moment.
“I thought you gay guys were smarter than us heterosexuals,” Shouto commented snidely.
“I’m bi,” he corrected.
“Yea, Shouto, so he’s only half that smart,” Eijirou snickered, skipping back a feet when Katsuki made to grab him.
“Eijirou.” Katsuki curled a fist. “Get your ass over here.”
“No way,” the beta laughed, jogging around the court.
“What’s the bet? I want money.”
“Bet y’all, I can hit Hitoshi with this ball by bouncing it off the headboard.”
“Wow.” Shouto cocked his head, wet hair obscuring his blue eye, as he said with no efforts made to mute the mockery in his tone. “It almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
“You can’t,” Hanta denied. “You can do a lot of shit but not that.”
“Betting against you too,” Shouto weighed in.
The beta sprinted past him, huffing. “I believe in you, KitKat.”
“Give me a break, give me a break of that KitKat bar,” Denki hummed.
“I’ll give you my foot up your ass.”
Izuku’s musical laugh traveled crystal clear. Whenever Katsuki heard it, it gave him an awful case of hornets in his gut. Like he ate a tub of chocolate in one sitting. He rolled the ball on the top of his feet, launched it high, caught it and angled his body to the headboard.
Hitoshi’s low voice mumbled something and spurred another fit of giggles from the omega.
Katsuki pitched the ball, hard, rattling the old sun bleached wood. It ricocheted off and flew over his head,
They all tracked its path through the sky.
“No. Fucking. Way.” Hanta’s eyes followed the ball.
Katsuki looked on, smug, listening to their disbelief as the ball spiraled down.
Izuku shifted to the side.
The ball clocked him in the back of his head and planted him face down.
Katsuki’s breath seized, shock and dread filling the once warmblood with frost. When his feet moved over the grass to the sidewalk, it wasn’t Katsuki calling the shot. It was the alpha.
“Explain to me exactly what made you this big of an ass,” Hitoshi growled, his alpha tied to the leash. A smart move because the other alpha had the biggest jaws so to speak and you didn’t challenge the top dog unless you were willing to get bit.
“It was an accident.” Katsuki barked, scent like mustard gas. Harmful. Worthy of the yellow diamond sign with a skull and crossbones. It scattered weaker alphas, bent omegas, and set betas at a distance.
To Izuku’s omega, the scent didn’t instill obedience but provided a shelter like an umbrella in a downpour. Light burned his eyelids. Shadows in and out of it. Something pillowed the back of his head—a shirt probably.
Izuku massaged his head, grimacing at the ache that pulsed with his touch.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe your bullshit,” Hitoshi said, dull. “You bullied him in high school.”
Izuku blinked. Body laid on the bench with a small group clustered around it. Katsuki and Hitoshi faced each other like two unfriendly dogs. Eijirou played the mediator, his scent neutral acted like a pheromone muter. The other alphas watched behind Katsuki. The alpha hardly needed back up but when alphas packed up, they worked like wolves.
“First, that ain’t your business.” Katsuki brought his face close, trying to force Hitoshi to lower his. Hitoshi showed him his cheek instead, unhappy about the display of submission. “Second, if Deku has a problem he’ll take it with me. Not you. You ain’t his man. I don’t gotta answer shit to you.”
“You’re right. I’m his friend, do you even know what that is?”
Katsuki tensed his arm, curled his fingers expertly into a fist, chambered it but Eijirou locked his hand at his elbow, shaking with the effort to cancel out the punch.
“Katsuki, don’t,” he said. “Remember you can’t fight, you’ll lose your career.”
His career and his care-free life. The criminal justice system had no leniency for alphas from strong bloodlines. You either controlled the alpha or they did it for you and locked you in the pen. There had been too many cases of assaults, battery, homicide, and sexual abuse from alphas. Katsuki’s status as a pro-alpha would definitely skyrocket the case and launch a long trail if it ever came to that.
Hitoshi stepped back, superiority and disgust inked in his eyes. “Honestly you haven’t changed a bit from high school. You’re still the same asshole. You think you’re better than everyone because of your alpha. If it wasn’t for that, you would be nothing now. Just a punk.”
“Whoa,” Denki said, actually looking angry for the first time, his jokester grin exchanged for an unfriendly line.
“Guys.” Eijirou looked on helplessly as he smelled their animosity.
“Nah.” Hanta flanked Hitoshi too. “The hell, shit talking my friend like that. You need to step back, Hitoshi.”
“Everyone, relax,” Shouto spoke with a leveled voice.
Annoyance, fury, self-loathing muddled Katsuki’s dark scent. His omega urged him in distress—up, up, up. Izuku used the bench to ease himself up. “Can you guys not do this? My head hurts.”
Hitoshi went to his side, hands hovering in the air wanting to touch but unsure how it would be received. “Midoriya, are you alright?”
“God, Katsuki,” he groaned, a smile on his face as he chanced a hand to the bump on his noggin. It hurt, obviously. It also kind of…aroused, turned him on, had him on the ropes with shivery breaths? A quarter of what made him a pro-fight went into that throw. Hard not to find the first-hand knowledge a bit daunting. “You’re crazy strong.”
“…Yeah,” he said, voice like the color of eggshell white. Guilt? Shame? Remorse?
Izuku smiled at his stoic expression. “I see why you’re so good at fighting.”
Katsuki’s eyes searched him, looking. Looking. Like vaguely drawn map on brown parchment. “Deku.,” he said in a voice not reserved for taunting. Not reserved for the public, for the cameras, for the crowd. Private. Intimate.
“Izuku,” Hitoshi corrected with a pointed face. “Let’s go to the clinic.”
“No. I’m okay.” He waved off, attempting to get his feet under him. Hitoshi mirrored him with his arms out. “Just a bump. Ow. I’ll put ice on it.”
“I’ll feel better if we have a doctor check you out.” He tucked a curl behind his ear.
“He’s fine,” Katsuki grumbled, wired to the ground by sheer will alone.
“I’m sorry, was I talking to you? No? Then shut up.”
“It was just a ball to my head. You’re blowing it up.”
Katsuki crossed his arms with a loud smirk of triumph, an aha. “There.” The alpha leaned into his space, Izuku almost expected Katsuki to flick his nose or tell him to run to his mother, instead his lips peeled back in an intimidating demonstration of his white teeth. “Now go. Bye bitch.”
“Katsuki,” Izuku scolded.
It had some effect and canceled out the gloat. “What?”
“Be nice to people,” he sighed.
Abruptly, he pushed past the pack of alphas and tagged Katsuki alone, bringing him to the shade under a maple tree. “Stop starting things.”
“I’ll stop once he learns to—“
Izuku closed his eyes in pain, the bump throbbing. “Ah, crap.” His fingers ghosted over it and retracted back when it pulsed at the delicate ministration.
Another hand joined his, larger, calloused— the hand of a fighter. Izuku snapped his eyes wide and where the pain had fried his nerves with pulses of ache, came a new sensation. Loud and vocal about a new ache.
Katsuki’s fingers tapped his scalp, the confidence he carried into all things didn’t translate into the action. Eyes watched them.
Izuku could sympathize with their disbelief because he was in the middle of experiencing it and placing the tenderness within Katsuki.
He leaned out of his touch, body an exposed heart. “Did you have to throw it so hard?” He asked, masking his hysteria with annoyance.
“Did you have to put your fat head in the way?!” Katsuki barked, the hand once a giver of kind things balled into a fist.
“Why are you yelling at me?” He complained, tapping his chest. “I’m the victim.”
“The victim of stupidity.”
Izuku wished he had the ball so he could chuck it into Katsuki’s handsome face. “You’re stupid.”
Katsuki’s chest bumped his. “Oh yeah?”
He bumped back. Izuku wasn’t scared of him. Wasn’t attracted to that stupid, model face. Didn’t at all think it was sweet that Katsuki ran over to check on him. “Yea! You’re playing basketball why would you even throw it that hard to begin with?”
Katsuki opened his mouth several times, all failed attempts. Naturally, he shouted. “I don’t know! Why was your head in the fucking way?”
Izuku made a face. “In the way of what?”
“None of your business.”
He shook his head, voice thin with exasperation. “You’re unbelievable. I’m not asking you to apologize or anything.”
“Well I’m not.”
“Oh, big surprise, Katsuki,” he mocked. Not exactly very mature or polite of him but hey, Izuku had limits like anyone else and why was Katsuki so difficult to talk to sometimes? If they weren’t in a decent conversation, then they were bickering over the most asinine things.
“You want a twin to match that bump?”
“No. I want—Nevermind. I’m going home and I don’t need a doctor.” The last bit was directed at Hitoshi, who looked prime to swoop in.
Izuku stomped away, huffing, eager to put a healthy distance between him and both alphas. Jerks, yelling at one another when he entered the world of the dead temporarily; who did that? Who fought the other person trying to help?
Shoes stormed down the sidewalk. A shadow with wild hair joined his. Katsuki snarled. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Home,” he answered, speeding his gait.
Katsuki matched it, easy.
Izuku took it up a notch and sped walk while actively masking it. When he huffed again, it was from exertion and not weariness.
Katsuki jogged, not a detail of him out of place or under any duress from the physical activity. Everything obeyed him like it was the law. Hair flawless and platinum with the auburn sun. Skin shimmery with sweat, not clammy and gross like Izuku’s cheeks. Clothes tailored to every inch, like a second skin.
Could he get some peace? God, he couldn’t even sulk in private.
“Yea,” Katsuki said, voice a raspy pitch and that was the one sign given to show Katsuki was human— somehow; somewhere; beneath that gargantuan ego which probably crushed down all his normal brain cells that directly affected his talking to people portion of his brain—and experienced limitations like the rest of humanity.. “I think the fuck not. With you, you’ll end up in a ditch. I’ll drive you home.”
“I’m not asking,” Izuku panted, jogging between the swing set.
Katsuki kicked up wood chips beside him. “Neither am I.”
Izuku slowed for a breather, hands on his knees. “God, fine then.”
“So fucking ungrateful.”
“Fuck, why are you shouting?” Katsuki said and it nearly launched Izuku into a rant but he caught teeth tugging seductively on the alpha’s bottom lip, the twinkle of mirth in his honey red eyes, and gaped numbly as he lost traction over his words and his life.
A minute passed where he gawked and Katsuki basked in his frustrated silence.
“Oh.” He pouted, sour at being teased. “Oh, I see. You think you’re so cute.”
Katsuki snorted, the gesture loud with pride. “You got some anger issues, Deku,” he added, laughing when it got the effect he wanted as Izuku sputtered out unattractively with spit, “Me?”
“I don’t even want to hear it.”
“I have anger issues?” He questioned in case Katsuki’s ego disabled his hearing temporarily.
“Shut. Up.” He shoved at his shoulder toward the parking lot and walked ahead of him; the black Challenger stood out starkly against a beaten up Station Wagon and a Chevy Silverado.
“I mean, that was a joke right?” Izuku asked Katsuki’s broad, chiseled, sweaty— he redirected his gaze skyward where no sexy backs could distract him. “Like I don’t mean to be rude to you but if there was a poster child for anger issues, it would be you.”
Katsuki whipped his head back. “I am not that bad.”
“OH! You’re in denial.”
“I’m not in—Get in this fucking car, dickhead.” Katsuki unlocked the passenger door first and opened it, slicing the air violently for Izuku to get in.
“Buckle up,” he barked when Izuku sat in the dark leather, confused with his hands bunched in his lap, afraid a brush against any part of the car would denote the world.
“I’m buckled.” Izuku clicked the seatbelt.
Katsuki ran his eyes down and nodded, “Good,” and walked around the long hood.
This would mark it as the fourth?—time Katsuki forced him into his car. It should be a familiar place with the current pace he had going yet it was unfamiliar with how familiar it was becoming. Him and Katsuki. Bumping into each other. A hard thing to avoid in a small town. It seemed abnormal how often he crossed paths with Katsuki compared to everyone else from his graduating class. Aside from Tenya and Ochako, who were his best friends, and Mina who worked at community’s hottest diner; Izuku saw squat of his former classmates.
He bumped into Mei when he took a midnight stroll and she stumbled down the inky street with two tourists, a couple judging by the gold band on their fingers.
The car purred under Katsuki’s hand. The lights on the dashboard lit up in red. The seats vibrated from the speakers.
Izuku shot an accusatory look at Katsuki when Spice Girls’ Wannabe shattered his eardrums.
Katsuki slapped at the dials, ejecting the CD, and stuffed the thin slot with a Metallic CD.
“You’re so weird,” he laughed as he scouted out the Spice Girls’ case; found due to its poorly concealed place between the console and the seat. “To think I thought you were the coolest guy to walk the earth.”
Katsuki Bakugou—the alpha who put his hand over the flame of a Bic lighter and kept it there for minutes without a reflection of pain— listened to the Spice Girls frequently enough to have the case and CD in his car.
“That’s Eijirou!” He protested. “Not me.”
“If you wannabe my lover,” Izuku hummed and clapped his hands. “You gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever. Friendship never ends.”
“Shut up. Shut up,” Katsuki begged, fighting it.
“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.” He thumped Katsuki’s bicep with his fist, getting into it and mostly into the wild and explosive splash of red on the alpha’s cheeks.
The Challenger peeled out of the parking out, the park alive with the bass of Spice Girls.
“It’s like watching two six-year-olds try to navigate the deep complexities of the dating world,” Hanta observed.
“Should I be impressed that they can fight and make up in the span of minutes?” Denki asked. “I even glance at another girl and my chick will ghost me for a week.”
Hanta teased. “What chick, Mr. Hand-Solo?”
Denki chased Hanta down and tripped over an exposed root in the dirt.
Shouto said to Eijirou as Hanta skipped over to Denki, checking on him, and broke into a sprint when the alpha recovered now extra furious with dirt on his clothes. “Honestly, it’s alarming how they can be so transparent yet totally blind. Now, I’ll give it to Katsuki. He ain’t that bright but Midoriya. I expected better.”
“That was the cutest shit ever,” Eijirou said.
Hitoshi commented. “I don’t understand how Izuku can tolerate him.”
Shouto and Eijirou lapsed into silence, reminded of the other alpha’s presence. The guy had the habit of blending into the environment.
“You forgot I was here, didn’t you?”
Eijirou looked to Shouto for help.
“What? No,” the alpha lied.
Hanta rounded back to their spot, puffing. “Hey, guy, piss off.”
“Bye Felicia.” Denki finger waved.
Katsuki parked by the curb, the Challenger idled in front of his house.
The alpha considered him quick, rethought it, and scowled at the wheel as if it offended him
Izuku waited; something weighed on his mind he could tell by the way his fingers drummed on the wheel, the tension flexing down his forearm to his hands, the distance in his profile.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, sounding pained by his own awkward voice. “About your head.”
“Are you apologizing?” He asked, authentically curious.
When he made the comment on it, it had been in the heat of their bickering. He knew what happened today was nothing like back then where Katsuki intentionally targeted him with stink bombs. He chalked it up to bad timing.
Katsuki’s body flexed with tension. “I can take it right back, shithead.”
“Don’t,” he blurted, automatically.
He said, “Okay.”
“Thank you. For the ride.”
Katsuki snorted, shifted in his seat, and stared out the window. It mirrored back his candy corn orange eyes, the dusting of pink on his sharp cheekbones from Izuku’s sincere words, and the clumsy pout to his lips that Izuku gradually noticed accompanied moments where Katsuki didn’t have his ego or his confidence to rebound off. “Well I almost put you into a coma so I figured a ride was decent payback.”
“Okay, you’re not that strong,” Izuku teased
Every cell in him flickered on like a wire train of Christmas lights when Katsuki’s shock of anger crumbled fast to playful annoyance. “Maybe I should throw it harder.”
“Then you’ll owe me another ride.”
“Does this look like the Baku Express? Now get out of my car, Deku.”
“Not even gonna walk me to the door—“ he squealed, pressing into the car door as Katsuki pinched his side. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughed as the pinching delved into tickling.
Katsuki jogged to the court. “Alright game on. What was it 5 to 1?”
Hanta bounced the ball off the cement. “Ha. It was 3 to 1 but nice try.”
“You’re still losing, dumbass.”
“So…did you walk Midoriya the door? Give him a little peck on the cheek like a good boy?”
Katsuki looked at the ball, then Denki, and whipped it at his crotch.
Denki toppled to the ground, rolling on his back as he cupped his balls. “Fuck!”
Shouto looked up from his phone to the alpha whining on the ground, then tapped on the screen, shaking his shame in disapproval. “You have no one to blame but yourself. Learn from this.”
“My balls,” he cried. “Bakugou! You killed my future children.”
“Calm down, Hand-Solo, they weren’t heading anywhere,” Hanta laughed, rapping his fist to Katsuki’s
Katsuki picked up the ball. “So Denki is out, wanna take his place, Eijirou?”
The redhead perked his head up from the novel he was reading. “Sure.” He switched out his dirty boots for his white Jordans. “They give me MBA fire,” he explained to Shouto when he eyed the wardrobe change.
Shouto put his cell away in his duffel and swung his arms, warming up the muscle. “Yea. Okay, champ.”
“Those bad boys got us to States,” Hanta said. “Don’t mock, M.J.”
“Who’s skins this time?”
“We all know you want to be skins, Katsuki. Just take your damn shirt off, asshole.”
Katsuki stripped off his tank.
A dusty car with the decal live, laugh, love on the bumper honked from the red light, which turned green, Mei whistled from her car. “Yo, Bakugou! Take off the rest!”
Mr. Aizawa pulled out from behind Mei’s car and flipped her off. “You’re holding up traffic. Put a shirt on!”
Izuku sleepily smacked his lips.
Katsuki sat on his bed with the sheets over his cock.
He smooshed his face into the pillow. Personally, six a.m. was too early in the day for naked Katsuki, dream or not. “Why are you in my dream again?”
“Dunno.” The alpha shrugged, gloriously unashamed of his naked self. “Why do you keep putting me in them?”
He lifted his head with an accusation. “Maybe cause you’re stalking me.”
“You wish,” he snorted, then looked down with hunger at Izuku’s bedhead curls. He flicked one. “Hey, let’s fool around.” He pulled the sheets back, his once flaccid cock started to swell and stiffen.
He grabbed his cock, stroking it dry. “Suck this, yea?”
Izuku moved on his elbows, drawn in, mouth wet and dry. He kissed the thickness of Katsuki’s muscled thighs, breath loud and ragged. Once he started, his appetite grew. Demanded more. Told him to use teeth on that skin. He felt the skin between his ass grow wet with slick.
“Damn, Izuku. Look at that mouth,” Katsuki groaned, drunkenly watching him work up to his cock. “Fucking pretty. Put it here, right on my cock. Yea, baby, you wanna suck this, right? “
Suck, ride; Izuku wanted to ink his name with his tongue on the shaft. Yet a thought pressed; why was Katsuki a staple in his mind?
“Why are you in my dreams?” He whispered
Katsuki tapped his fingers under his chin, lifted him up, parted a gritty voice over his lips. “Maybe cause you’re in mine too.”
“Lair.” He shivered; the thin contact as their mouth pressed tenderly shook him up, upturned the tables of his insides, destabilized the foundation of his nerves. “You can’t stand me.”
“What, you’re the one who can’t stand me.”
Izuku leaned back to pout. “I’m nice.”
“Now I know that’s horseshit.”
“Then if I’m mean I guess I won’t suck you off.” He made to move away and curl back under the covers.
Katsuki prevented that, manhandled Izuku on his lap. Kissed his next sentence over his mouth. “See. Mean.”
“You’re the bully,” he commented.
Katsuki’s confidence flagged, a fire left in the middle of a downpour. Physically, no distance bridged them but he sensed an emotional gap. He started to hate that—frowns on Katsuki; it went against the natural order of things.
“I…yeah. I’m an asshole. You shouldn’t like me,” he admitted with shame.
He hadn’t meant to cause emotional trauma but there it was. It was a dream but big bully Katsuki with the saddest frown on his pretty face…It didn’t settle right with him.
Maybe another time, on his darker days when he was cruel for once, Izuku would’ve paid for Katsuki to admit this.
Izuku touched his face. Carded his blonde locks. Finding Katsuki’s eyes when he shifted them away. Saw something lingered there like a beaten dog expecting a kick.
Izuku drew his finger over his mouth like he was painting it. He said, playfully. “Your face is very nice though so maybe I’ll be nice to you.”
“So you like my face? ThInk I’m fine?”
Izuku pushed his face away, kind of regretting his choice to reanimate his terrible ego. Partially though because Katsuki’s smile trumped a lot of great things— sunsets, cute puppies, double scoop ice cream, the first snow of winter, the flowers of spring.
“Ugh,” he groaned and felt Katsuki laugh against his palm before his center of gravity switched to the bed and oh yea, Katsuki had beauty and monster strength. Jerk “—what are you, ah. Oh.”
Katsuki spread his legs, settled his heavy body against him, and humped. “Yea. This is much better.”
Izuku arched, dipped his toes into the mattress, moaned. Katsuki an ocean to his sea boat.
“You want me?” His voice danced over his ear.
“You really like hearing it, huh?” He teased, figuring Katsuki was being dirty.
“Yea,” he said simply.
“I don’t know how to stop wanting you,” he whispered. Truthful. Bare. Naked in his heart and soul. Like an addict in a white room with a therapist and silent walls, confessing the addictive pull of drugs.
Katsuki searched his face for a while. Stunned. “Me neither.”
Katsuki descended on him, mouth to his collar bones; up; lips and teeth to his neck now. Izuku splayed his hands over his sides, over the proud mountain of his strong back, and right into those platinum locks. Fisted. Scraped his scalp. Katsuki’s thick cock messily bumped over his. Other times, it missed the mark and rutted across his pelvis. Izuku relocated one hand on his ass.
These dreams felt detailed. Real. Better than all his fantasies.
They blinked behind his eyelids at night and lasted from a minute to hours. Katsuki came freer in them and so did Izuku.
Katsuki choked a groan, body shivering right above him. His lazy thrusts devolved into hammering ones and gave Izuku no space to breathe in the air he lost with each moan.
“Izuku. Damn, man.”
so, yea, i started writing a new fic and could not pull myself away from it. its katsudeku, it should be up in a few days. its a lil beast (30k, help) so i'll be editing for a while. keep an eye out for it if ur interested!
wow, like the support for this is unreal. thank you truly for supporting this lame fic.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“If you’re serious about fighting Romero Fujimi, then you need to drop some weight,” Yagi told Katsuki as he hit the bag.
“He’s in a lower weight class,” his trainer explained over Eijirou pained grunts as Mezo lifted him from his squatting position to the air and slammed him down.
The beta rolled. “Ah, fuck,” he laughed in spite of the pain. “You really got me there.”
Mezo grabbed his arm and yanked the beta on his feet. “You’re too focused on beating down your opponent with brute strength. There are other ways to win. Lot of alphas forget about the legs.”
Eijirou massaged his lower back. “Yea. I get what you mean.”
“Once more?” Mezo asked with a small smile as the beta recovered his breath.
“Oh, hell yeah! I’m not done until I beat you.”
Katsuki turned back to his trainer, the former title holder of champion. Not a soul could stand to him in a fight, his height and muscle mass made it near impossible to unhinge him. People started taking to the name ‘All Might’ at one point because all opponents fell to his might.
“So I gotta slim down,” he asked, trading a jab at the bag.
Jab, cross. His hair fell into his eyes, the rest pasted down to his dewy skin.
Jab, cross. Sweat slithered from his hairline to his brow.
Duck left, duck right. Controlled breaths, in and out
Fast footwork, you want the other alpha guessing. His clothes clung
“Yes. Fujimi has never gone up a weight class in all his years fighting. He can’t put on the muscle.” The old alpha read the smug aura that radiated off Katsuki at the comment. “Don’t take that as an invitation to gloat.”
“Me?” Katsuki panted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “ Gloat. Never.” He dove, went in with a vibrating sick hook.
“I want you running more.” Yagi held the shivering bag still. “Less weight lifting, smaller weights. We’ll have to cut your calorie intake as well.”
Katsuki lowered his fists. “Dude, what?”
“I mean if you would prefer not to fight him…” Yagi trailed off, his trademark big teeth, wide lip smile stretched his wrinkling face.
Katsuki knew when his buttons were being pressed but he didn’t get mad. Hard to, at Yagi who saw this balled fists, the blood on his knuckles, so filled with the alpha most of the time he couldn’t maintain a civil conversation with people and asked him if he liked the gym. No, hey you need to shape up or you’ll end up in jail. No, you’re not a kid anymore, Katsuki.
“Fuck that,” he barked, knowingly rising and swallowing the bait but he liked how Yagi could direct his alpha, not chain it, not clip it to a metaphorical leash. He helped him flow naturally like a boulder in a stream. “I can kick his ass in any class.”
“That's the spirit.” Yagi clapped a massive down on his shoulder. Katsuki wobbled. “I’ve been going easy on you with your cardio but not anymore!”
Katsuki curled a sour frown. “…What do you mean easy? I threw up at every session for the first month,” he complained, pointing his wrapped finger in accusation at the alpha. “Fuckin’ Eijirou cried and couldn’t move for a week and he was on another program.”
“Hey! Those were man tears,” Eijirou objected from the cage. “Poor, beautiful man tears.
Mezo tackled him to the mat.
“Pay attention.” Mezo bounced to his feet, making rotations around Eijirou. “And for the record, you cried regular tears.”
“You guys are always against me,” he said from his prone position.
Yagi rumbled a baritone laugh. “And now you’ll blackout! Isn’t it exciting, Bakugou? To push your body to the absolute limit?”
“I like to have a body.”
“You young kids,” he said wistfully.
“So if we’re doing this then we gotta make an announcement, “he said.
“That has to wait until the APL approves the match which they won’t until you drop a class. We can do plenty of press for the fight after that.”
“No. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Yagi hummed. “What are you planning, Bakugou?”
Izuku scrolled down his Facebook feed, an article from the page Kick Ass Movie, read Bakugou Throws the Gauntlet and We’re in Love from another writer at Buzzfeed. He clicked, skimming the brief paragraphs that summed up the recent and gradually budding feud between Bakugou and Fujimi and scrolled down to the hinted video posted a few hours ago on Katsuki’s Instragam account.
Challenge issued. You game, man?
Izuku tapped the play icon and the video played Katsuki in the gym standing next to a hanging bag with Romero’s face printed and tapped to it.
“Okay, you’re on man,” Eijirou said, most likely the cameraman.
Katsuki cracked his knuckles, jerked his neck left then right, and angled his body to the bag. Chambered up his arm and drove it hard into the bag and split the material. The bag swung madly on its chain like a spooked stallion.
Katsuki fired a smirk at the camera. “I’m calling you out, Fujimi. See your ass in the pen if you’re not a pussy.”
“See,” he said to the screen. “Stalker.”
If Katsuki planned to worm his presence into his life then Izuku could at least indulge it. He went to the account, smiling through a number of videos where the group of alphas danced seductively to Fifth Harmony’s Work with Katsuki complaining in the background. Even the quiet, stoic pro-alpha instructor, Mezo, got into it. Looking awkward but enjoying himself as Eijirou, Yagi, and few other alphas over sexualized their dips. Then drooled at the shameless selfies of Katsuki as he stood in front of a floor to ceiling mirror in shorts and with a bared glossy chest.
“Isn’t it a bad idea to be drinking near a lake? Didn’t Friday the 13th happen like that?”
“I swear you’re like a grumpy old man,” Ochako admonished, glaring at the alpha in the rearview mirror.
“I want us to be safe! A boy drowned once in that lake,” Tenya said in a somber, very Cabin in the Woods voice like underpaid and undertrained D-list actor. “His spirit still haunts it to this day.”
Ochako fixed him with a dry expression, her soft mouth pressed into an unamused frown. “You’re an idiot. The lake is about ten feet deep.”
“It’s true!” He insisted.
It was an old story passed from generation to generation, from parent to child to inspire fear and resistance to underage drinking and late night make outs at the secluded lake. Any and all partying went on behind the tall pines. Eventually the teens had to become quite covert about the meet-ups as the police department caught up with their act when several parents phoned one another asking if so and so was at their house.
Izuku once earned the desired invite from one of the cool kids but when he arrived and someone handed him a cold bottle of Hennessey, he froze so badly with panic that he faked a stomach ache and asked to be driven back by one of the seniors.
They were going again and though he was of legal drinking age, part of him felt a pearl of worry and dread in his gut. He wanted to reclaim that event for himself, bring it full circle, and to finally try that rope swing he saw the senior and junior ride before flying into the lake in their underwear
“No way.” Ochako clicked her tongue.
Trees blurred in his window. Izuku tongued his teeth. “You know what story is true, the legend of Mothman.”
“Okay, Izuku,” she warned, sounding uneasy. “Don’t even joke about that. You know I believe in him.”
“Mothman?” Tenya asked.
“Yes. Legend says—“
“Stop!” She searched the dark woods past the windshield as if the recitation might call the myth and light the car as a beacon to the creature. “No. You can’t speak of him.”
Izuku continued, enjoying himself too much when Ochako whined and cried at him to shut his big trap up or else. “Legend says the Mothman originated in our hometown and in the offseason he comes back here to feast and gathers his strength. He feeds off of brunettes with round faces and big boobs. He took a girl senior year. She got drunk with a few of her friends and wandered into the woods and was never seen again. Hey, if I think about it she looked like you, Ochako.”
“I know you’re fucking with me but I’m still scared.”
Tenya shifted in the backseat, tapping on his phone. “I am Googling this to confirm.”
“Don’t invoke his name on the internet,” Ochako hissed as she swiped behind the seat to intercept him.
“Mothman is not Bloody Mary, you can’t conjure him,” Izuku laughed, then stopped abruptly. “Or…can you?”
“Midoriya, I know we’re friends for life but if a real half man, half moth comes in the night I’m leaving you to die. Every person for themselves. I don’t play.”
“Baby,” Tenya said, hurt that in the unlikely situation his wife and mate would abandon their friend.
“I’ll leave you too,” she said. “I don’t play with Mothman. I ain’t got time for that.”
Izuku flipped down the visor and stared into the mirror, chanted deeply. “Mothman, Mothman, Moth—“
“Izuku!” She slapped his arm with one hand while trying not to crash the car into a ditch.
The omega shielded himself, laughing hard that he snorted piggishly and dropped his guard.
“Okay, I found several articles on Mothman,” Tenya declared. “…Let me read. Okay. Okay. Hmm. Interesting.”
“Mothman, Mothman,” Izuku stage-whispered into the mirror. “Mothman.”
Ochako clutched the wheel in a death grip. “Why are you guys doing this to me? You’re supposed to protect me.”
“You just said you would leave us to die,” Izuku pointed out.
“The guys are supposed to die. The girl lives. It’s horror movie law.”
“Oh, I found a documentary on Mothman. I’ll raise the volume so we can all listen.”
Izuku measured the volume of his feet and ducked low and to the shadows. He moved like a predator in the bush. “Mothman,” he breathed down Ochako’s neck.
She screamed. “Izuku Midoriya! What is wrong with you? I’m telling your mother.”
“Oh boy, busting out the full name. I’m in trouble.”
With her attention centered on him, Tenya approached from her blind spot with a tombstone somber frown to his face. “Mothman.”
“Oh!” She growled. “ I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Well right now I do,” she pouted cutely, arms crossed.
“I’ll protect you from all dangers, my dear. No man. Nay. No Mothman will dare lay a finger on you while I’m alive! Try to find us creature for I fear nothing and will defend my lady till the end.”
Movement rustled the bushes bordering the clearing, a noise cowed into the night. Ochako bolted to the bonfire where Momo, Mina, and Kyouka sat on logs. Denki and Hanta toppled to the grass, snickering hard.
Tenya shamed them. “It’s not right to play pranks on people.”
“Chill, man,” Denki dismissed flippantly.
“Yea. It’s all in good fun. C’mon, like who believes in Mothman. He’s not real—“ The branches rustled this time, above them, and something inhuman growled low and sinister in the darkness.
The alphas high tailed it.
Katsuki hopped down from the branch, followed by Eijirou and Shouto who played back the recording of Hanta and Denki scattering like rats. “Got them,” Eijirou cheered.
Katsuki looked at the footage, “Fucking dumbasses. Of course, Mothman isn’t real.”
Eijirou started. “I wouldn’t talk smack, do you remember that time—“
Katsuki rounded on the beta, jamming his hand over his sharp teeth. “S-shut up dude!”
“Katsuki peed himself because he thought he saw Mothman in his bedroom window,” Eijirou said in a rush and promptly placed himself behind Shouto and treated the alpha as his human shield.
“You dick. Stop laughing Shouto.”
Shouto smiled and said with fondness while Eijirou maneuvered him every time Katsuki advanced. “The great Bakugou, afraid of Mothman. I can’t wait to tell my wife. She’s going to love that.”
“Are you going to tell them it was you guys?” Izuku asked Eijirou. He looked over Eijirou’s shoulder and watched the video, giggling at Denki’s and Hanta’s mirrored faces of horror and panic.
“Hell no. Gotta keep the legend alive. We’re responsible for two Mothman sightings in this town.”
“That was you guys?” He looked to Katsuki for confirmation. “The Mothman in Mr. Aizawa’s garden?”
“Yup. Me and Katsuki.”
“You know he doesn’t walk in his garden at night anymore because of that,” Izuku elaborated, hoping maybe to strike a thread of remorse in the alpha.
“I swear. On my life, Kyouka,” Denki declared over the bonfire’s crackles. The flames painted deep shadows under his eyes like someone dipped their thumb in charcoal and dragged it under his eyes. “Mothman is here in these very woods with us. It’s not bullshit. We have to sacrifice a virgin, it’s our only option now. Minoru! Get your ass here.”
“Jokes on you,” he shouted with a manic smile. “I slept with Mei during the Christmas bash! My boy has become a man.”
“Stop reminding everyone, you prick.”
“Mothman isn’t real, shut up,” Kyouka drawled.
“Sorry but even Mr. Aizawa saw him. Debunked!”
“This is how these stupid myths get started because someone witnessed something at night or in the woods or at a distance. Next thing you’ll say is Big Foot is legit.”
“I have to agree with Kyoka,” Mashirao agreed. “Every origin story has shifty evidence and findings. How is it that none of the footage is of any quality?”
“What, you don’t believe in Big-B?” Denki asked as though he couldn’t fully comprehend it.
“Because they want to stay hidden, do you not know anything about monsters. They live in the shadows.”
“Big Foot is bull. You know who isn’t? The Jersey Devil.”
“Really reaching with that one, huh, Minoru?” Hanta jeered.
“But the Devil is real. He’s with us now,” a new, sugary sweet voice added to the lull in the group’s conversation. Fire popped and crackled. One by one, they traced the voice to the source. Himko Toga had a damp stick and poked at the embers in an oversized sweater and a pleated skirt.
“…Okay, who invited her?” Minoru asked with a smudge of panic. No one had seen her make an entrance at any point and the invite went out to the close-knit friends of their graduating class. Adding to the creep factor, Himiko was a former student at Kiyashi High School, U.A’s rival school. “That’s like bringing the Blair Witch to your house, you don’t bring that vibe with you.”
“This actually a perfect night to speak to him now.” She turned her face to the sky, blonde pigtails glowing unearthly with the white of the moon. “The moon is full. No clouds.”
“Hanta, I’m scared.” Denki clung to him.
“I feel like I’m in Paranormal Activity but there’s no cameras and no Hollywood franchise to market off my pain and suffering to a worldwide audience,” said Hanta in a grave low whisper.
“I just need a blood sacrifice to bring him forth,” she said cheerily, smiling at everyone for a volunteer.
“What. The actual. Fuck. Seriously?”
“No. Dumbass.” Himko rolled her eyes, disturbing the fire. The logs collapsed under and shapeless shadows crawled over Himiko’s doll-like white skin. “The Jersey Devil isn’t real but spirits are. You gotta be a wicked powerful medium to get them to talk to you wherever, which I am.”
“She’s insane,” Minoru said out loud, then yelped when the female alpha smiled her pointy canines at him.
Dabi, Himiko’s tall, handsome boyfriend, appeared and offered her a beer. “Babe.”
She squealed, jumping to her feet and then on her toes as she took the beer and kissed Dabi on the cheek. “Thank you, baby,” she purred.
“It’s just beer.”
Minoru watched her short skirt fluttered around the white of her thighs, the way she pressed her body into Dabi shamelessly, and felt a sick sludge of horror clawed out of his stomach. “Oh shit. She’s hot.”
Hanta hushed him. “Do not stick your dick in crazy, Minoru. Double for girls like her, like she’ll cut your dick off.”
“I know but I think I like that she could murder me in my sleep and get away with it.”
“Dude. I’m not one to judge but maybe, talk, to someone. Not me.” Hanta insisted when Minoru’s lonely eyes darted up, hopeful that Hanta could be that someone to carry his sexual woes. “ But someone about all that. Or you know what, find a website for people like you. Yea. Do that.”
Kyouka commented, beer bottle tapping her bottom lip. “I like how you totally ignored the fact she’s with Dabi.”
“Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score,” Denki shot finger guns at the beta.
“You’re a total pig,” said Kyouka after a long, intense period of silence where Denki maintained the guns and the frat-dude cringey smile.
“I know that tone.” He nudged his elbow to Hanta in a total guy fashion which was meant to communicate the struggles of dating women. “ I’m jerking off tonight.”
Kyouka lowered her arms, hands hanging loosely between her thighs, and asked in a jet black tone. “You want that to be forever cause you’re getting close to it?”
Eijirou suggested to the guys. “Maybe she’s Mothman. How else did they know about this party?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Facebook,” Shouto theorized dully.
“So where’s your boyfriend?” Katsuki asked Izuku as he benched on a boulder near the navy blue lake.
“Boyfriend?” He repeated as the alpha plopped down on the rock and kicked a pebble with his boot. “Who?”
“That fuckin’ weirdo,” Katsuki answered with a vague hand motion.
Izuku glared forward in thought. “Hitoshi?” He hazarded and how terrible of Izuku to correlate weirdo with his friend/co-worker/guy interested in dating him, to the town’s standard Hitoshi stuck out. That happened when you’re the quiet, studious, polite kid in a town full of misfits like Katsuki Bakugou
“Is that his name?” He tried to sound unimpressed, skipping a pebble over the lake’s surface. It made it halfway across the lake, then it sank to the dark depths as ripples spanned outward and distorted the reflection of the moon on the water.
Izuku acted like the powerful definition in the alpha’s arms at that small action wasn’t a Molotov’s cocktail to his body. Like, not that he ever thought about those arms around him or on him or holding him to flat surfaces—okay, he did.
Katsuki faced him in wait for an answer.
Izuku averted his eyes, embarrassed Katsuki might be able to smell his omega’s arousal—which he stamped down hastily before it could perfume the air— and tell from the scent alone that he was thinking about him, remembering the dreams when Katsuki sucked his cock into his big mouth and moaned like a two dollar slut as he came inside it with a shivery whimper and the mindless roll of his hips.
“He’s not my—we’re friends.”
God that was the first time he thought of dream Katsuki with real Katsuki next to him. He felt thirteen again, confused and guilty over his hard-ons.
“Dunno about that,” Katsuki drawled, cadence falling into that deep Southern accent a lot of the older folks had. “Seems like he wants to fuck you.”
Katsuki looked incredibly angry by this. “You know?”
He scratched his cheek, guilty, like a cheating boyfriend. “He flirts, sometimes.”
Granted, Hitoshi was the one guy to go after Izuku and be a complete gentleman about it. He complimented Izuku enough to keep him aware of his interest and spark a few butterflies in his gut. He established physical contact regularly to get Izuku comfortable with his touch; a hand on the small of his back; fingers stitched around his elbow. He slowed down when Izuku became overwhelmed with his advances and apologized. He texted him at reasonable intervals, never too fast nor too late.
So naturally that kind of commitment and devotion, came sex. He didn’t doubt Hitoshi liked him for himself but he felt his stare when Hitoshi thought Izuku was unaware. It followed his shape. Lingered on his ass. Alphas and omega had overactive sex drives to begin with. So lust chased after infatuation.
It was pleasant even though he wasn’t sure if he would start something serious with Hitoshi. He couldn’t get through a fantasy where he touched Hitoshi, kissed him, stroke his cock, took him in his mouth and ass.
And he should want that, a guy like Hitoshi—polite, well mannered, a solid and stable career, classically handsome in a way where the room didn’t implode from his being there
“And?” Katsuki snapped
“You want his cock or not?” He asked, the words pelting Izuku like tennis ball sized hail.
“Oh my god. Did you forget the part where we’re friends?”
“You can want to suck your friend’s cock,” Katsuki traded.
“So don’t you want to fuck Eijirou?” Izuku didn’t know where that came from or even when he had the time to feel jealousy at their close friendship. Denki, Hanta, and Shouto were different—well straight. Eijirou had no preference, guys or girls, if they were hot and available then Eijirou was interested.
“Me and Eijirou?” He asked in a voice to suggest Izuku might be dumber than a box of rocks. “Dem words come out of your mouth, Deku?”
Izuku might have felt bad, calling Eijirou out like that, if Katsuki didn’t behave like a grade-A asshole about it. He straightened his shoulders and matched Katsuki’s assertive tone. “Well you guys are close.”
“That guy picks his nose in front of me. He holds me down just so he can fart on my face.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Deku, the fuck, that’s like you fucking Ochako.”
“Then don’t assume because me and Hitoshi talk—“
“And get lunch. Yea I know,” he said at Izuku’s gap of astonishment. “Fucking dinner dates.”
“You’re—“ He began but Katsuki wouldn’t let him get started.
“What? ”Katsuki baited with a violent tone.
Izuku rolled off the boulder, stomped heavy footed on the bank, crunching damp dirt and pebbles under his sneakers. Anyone and Izuku would’ve dipped out and cut all ties but there had always been something about Katsuki. Something that yanked them into each other’s path. The same thing that drove moths to flames.
Being a moth, Izuku stormed back to Katsuki, the flame. “Ugh, I can’t even with you. Why is it a fight every time we talk? Why do you even talk to me if you dislike me so much? I don’t understand. Everywhere I turn you’re there. Was high school not enough for you? Gotta put me down now too?”
“Fuck you.” The alpha climbed off, standing tall and vocal, scent a firestorm whirling around Izuku from all angles and searing him should he dare touch the walls of fire. “I ain’t been that guy to you. You,” he tapped his chest, the area buzzing with sensation, “ fuckin’ fighting me.”
Izuku gaped, tapped Katsuki on the chest too to show that he could do it just as hard and it felt like passive-aggressively poking the side of a mountain.
Tap him on the chest, will you, he thought not.
“You’re at my house.” He listed off his fingers. “At the diner. At the park.”
In my head.
In my dreams.
Like a Bakugou infestation.
And last Izuku checked, there was no pest control for that type of infestation. No 1-800-we clear out sexy alphas who are cluttering your heart and mind with their hotness.
“It’s called a small town, genius.”
“Explain then why you’re at my house,” he demanded.
“Oh now I have to answer why I speak to your mom,” he said. “ People can talk to whoever they want. Not everything about you, Deku. Get over yourself.”
“Me?” Izuku stared. Like did Katsuki Bakugou tell him to get over himself, Katsuki Bakugou whose ego could account for another person because of it size. “ If anyone here needs to get over themselves, it’s you! My god, you have the biggest ego.”
“Eat shit, Deku.”
“You know what, this isn’t high school. I’m an adult and I don’t have to tolerate you and your bullying anymore. So here, fuck you.” He walked away.
“Yea!” Izuku whirled. “You like that? Fuck you, fuck you.”
“Real fucking adult, Deku! So mature!”
“Like you’re better, jerk face. God!”
Izuku squeezed on the log between Ochako and Tenya and looped his arm through the omega’s, nuzzling her shoulder.
“We heard yelling,” Tenya said. “Did you and Bakugou get into an argument?”
Izuku’s cheek colored red with frustration at the mere mention of the alpha. “He’s the one—“
The alpha offered his palms in peace. “Whoa, okay. Why don’t you just have a drink and relax and we can talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Izuku sulked when Tenya brought him a cool beer from the cooler.
He nodded, soothing his hand on his back.. “Alright. Whatever you want to—”
“Like why he does turn every conversation into an argument?” Izuku started; his impulse control when it came to Katsuki was absolute trash. Like a child biting into a steaming cookie even after all the warnings, the heat, the inherent knowledge that it would burn his tongue. “We can have a very nice one going and he’ll just fuck it up and get angry over dumb things and blame me for them. But whatever, I’m so done with Katsuki. His face is stupid.”
He drank his beer, drowning the explicit images of Katsuki in him; of Katsuki marking him thoroughly with his teeth and tongue like Izuku was a paint by numbers painting; of real Katsuki who bumped into him all over; who ate all the cookies and kindly—kindly—saved the last for Izuku; who left him with pounding ears and a headache whenever he drove him in his car; who painted the bathroom wall and flicked paint on Izuku’s face and told him how he made his freckles better; who grabbed stuff off the top shelf and smirked at Izuku because he couldn’t; who tried hard to be quiet when his nature made him loud; who had no right to be making Izuku smile like a fool; who should be on the receiving end of a glare for his douche antics in high school; who was trying to be better—Izuku could tell—but stumbled often, okay, nearly always, but managed to repair the times he blew up or overreacted.
Still, it didn’t permit his accusation nor his anger. Izuku could be friends with whoever, if he wanted to be with Hitoshi or some another guy then he could. Katsuki wasn’t allowed to dictate his life.
So done; like Katsuki who?
Ochako wanted to ask but didn’t, settled with holding his other hand—again, he missed the people here so, so much; there was no one at L.A. to hold his hand like this. Like friends, like two platonic soulmates. Guys wanted blowjobs, girls thought Izuku was playing his ‘gay’ role for an easy cop.
He sighed, feeling her mature fingers rub circles over his calloused knuckles.
Eventually, Katsuki grumbled his way back to the bonfire and stuck his shape to the tall pines surrounding the clearing. No one took much notice of his entrance, except Izuku, who heard his steps like landmines, claymore, bouncing Bettys.
Izuku rolled his eyes when Ibara touched Katsuki’s elbow and smiled warmly at something he said. She twirled her silky hair around a finger and talked with a vibrant expression on her face; a surprise when she was such a reserved and timid chick. Itsuka tagged in with loose jeans and a Kansa tee, adding to the conversation.
Neito fumed on the log, he had a strong running crush on Itsuka since grade school that he never had the balls to go through. Hanta and Denki gawked in jealousy then in respect.
Tenya searched for a neutral topic to dispel the cloud of fury hanging over Izuku when Katsuki rolled his sleeve and flexed his bicep in demonstration. “…Oh, so Tsuyu was telling me—“
“Being attractive doesn’t give you a free pass to be a dick,” Izuku continued impulsively. Like word vomit, the second he welded his teeth shut against one string of words another came and barged right through.
“I’m not falling for it anymore,” he announced. “Screw his stupid face, his stupid butt, his stupid abs. So what if he modeled for Calvin Klein?”
Ochako popped her head, intrigued. “He modeled for Calvin Klein?” At Izuku’s huffy nod, she called her mate. “Tenya, I need your phone.”
“Oh sure, here you go, sweetheart.” He handed it, thoughtless, and pretty much Ochako’s willing love slave. Guy would drop a thousand if Ochako asked—she wouldn’t but that kind of irrational, unconditional, mad love was hard to hate and harder not to envy and desire.
“Thank you!” She blew air kisses, abandoned Izuku, and got on the Google homepage.
Tenya took over, pulling Izuku’s head on his shoulder and entered dad mode. “Now, Izuku, you’re—wait a second there, Ochako, do not use our data to look up Katsuki in his underwear. Ochako give me the phone.”
She leaned on her side, batting Tenya’s hand. “Really quick, please. My goodness. Oh my. Lord, hold me. Hold me!”
“No. I will not have him taint your mind any longer.” Tenya tried to shove Izuku off the log to get to his mate.
Ochako touched her lips, reverent. “His cock looks huge in those. Is it really that big or do they still stuff their underwear?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know cause I’m not interested in him that way. Ever!” Izuku affirmed.
“No one said that—“
“Jesus on a tricycle, look at that ass! Hot momma.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like you’re just doing this to get back at me for the Mothman stuff.”
“Maybe but seriously, look at that butt.” She turned the screen to Izuku, who saw that photo already. Maybe more than once. “Tenya, baby, agree with me.”
“As a straight man, I can’t deny—“
“I seriously hate you guys right now.”
“If you cropped out the rest, then you can fool yourself into thinking it’s a woman.”
Ochako scrolled the image down so the edge of the screen sliced off where Katsuki’s glorious back dimples started and eased into sculpted shoulders. “Oh yea. A little. It’s really round for a guy.” Tenya agreed.
“Nothing like Izuku’s though, now that’s a powerhouse of an butt.” Ochako gave him a thumb up for said powerhouse butt. “It’s really apparent in your twerking video.”
“Stop,” he whined. “I’m sorry for bringing up Mothman. He’s probably not real—ow, haha, okay. I’m really sorry though.”
one step forward and two steps back. Katsuki's getting there guys. That day is coming.
And if you haven't check it out, I wrote a new fic called Chewed up. Same humor but with zombies and Katsuki/Izuku.
Izuku was still pissed. Rightfully so.
So he kind of ambushed Katsuki in the dream.
Were these lucid dreams or Izuku confusing daydreams with dreams? Either way, he pinned Katsuki down and mounted him.
“What the fu—“
Izuku clapped a hand over that perfect mouth. Felt that alpha strength that landed K.O.s like his email account received spam mail. His thighs were spread, leaving him exposed front and back. Katsuki quickly swelled and rolled his hips off the bed to get a taste of friction. “You don’t get to touch me,” he said.
I think about you. More than I should.
I want you. Even though we’ve had nothing but a rocky past and petty arguments over the pettiest of things.
I want you. But we fight as much as we get along; is that bad?
I want you. Because no one else has ever got me to be this way—this crazy; but maybe that’s bad too. Crazy isn’t good.
There’s different loves, different friendships, different hearts; how do we measure which one is better than the other?
Is it better because I’m alive with one guy or placid with the other?
How do I measure these things, these invaders you put in my body, when I have no medical knowledge, no vaccines, no hope for a cure?
How do I keep my heart still?
How do I unlearn you, this feeling?
Can we rewind?
You’re heart’s beating but it sounds and feels like it’s mine.
When are you gonna stop eating my hours, you jerk?
Katsuki complained, voice muffled.
Izuku strained to hear his rant.
“Wha—I can’t hear—would you be quiet for a second.” He removed his hand. Couldn’t dream Katsuki be good and like Izuku channel his inner power bottom; damn, he was horny and annoyed that he wanted to ride Katsuki until he cried like his bitch.
Whoa; see Izuku was a normal guy before all of this. He had a reasonable taste for cock riding but now, it was obscene. Now he was a whore about it; yea, he could admit that.
Katsuki went on his elbows, scowling up. He smelled like he could scorch this fantasy bed where they fucked and talked without fear, where he could imagine what Katsuki would say minus the ego and the My Chemical Romance mangst. “Why are you being a pain? Shouldn’t you be nice to me here?”
“Uh, no. This is my dream.”
He laughed mockingly. “No. This is my fucking dream.”
Izuku sat back, shifting himself against Katsuki’s curved cock in between his ass cheeks. “I miss nice Katsuki who sucked my cock and fucked me hard,” he hummed. Circled his hips. Backed up a bit until he heard a whiny whimper from Katsuki and wiggled up again.
Katsuki dug his fingers into the side of his thighs, groping the shape. “He’s still here. Fuck. He’ll do that again. Fucking will swallow that pretty cock. Milk you dry. He’ll do that.”
Izuku concealed a smile.
“Hell yea, baby,” Katsuki rasped, sounding dirty. Bringing dirt and rocks into his voice. Starting fires, burning houses, spreading worldwide panic. “He’ll fuck you—Are…You are not laughing at me right now!”
“I’m sorry but—“ He flopped off and snorted as he curled into a ball. “Haha. You keep talking in the third person and it’s so ridiculous.”
Katsuki lifted his head. “Well, now Katsuki’s angry. He might leave,” he said in a harsh voice but Izuku learned the lines around his mouth when he tried to fight a laugh, the micro change to his tone from legitimate anger to playful, faux anger; it kind of happened when you spent your waking hours and sleeping hours with a person.
You knew them pretty well.
“Boo-hoo,” he joked, poking Katsuki’s nose.
Katsuki moved on his side, closing the distance with a firm tug on his ankle. Izuku stared face to face at Katsuki, on the bed like lovers. “I think you’re spending too much time with me. So mean now.”
“I’m a very nice person. After all, I talk to you,” he teased.
Dream Katsuki dotted a freckle. He was mendable here; tactile; greed in his hands. Izuku liked that greed touching his skin, sealing his lips, and other explicit activities that didn’t seem appropriate with the softness in here.
But in case you were curious—
Eating ass (like, wow, he was so good at it? Did being an asshole make him very well equip to eat them, my god, the talent in his tongue.).
Fucking— Katsuki was that one asshole who had length and girth to his cock but the skills to use it.
And back to your scheduled softness or as about as soft a person composed of knives, hellfire, and explosives could get.
“Dick,” he said; no bite; all gooey alpha warmth. His hands found invisible patterns to memorize on his body. They’re like mini landmines on his skin; tip-tapping destruction and white heat.
He shivered, body always so damn easy for Katsuki. Didn’t try to play the game of ‘why are you in my bed? When did we start this thing between us?’ and plopped the side of his face on his arm. A blank invitation for ravishing. “Hmm, I don’t think you’re picking up my habits,” he whispered.
Oh no, those fingers were heading up now.
“I am,” Katsuki admitted. The room was devoid of any sounds aside from the soft brushing of Katsuki’s fingers to his skin, their bodies against the sheets, the comfortable ebb and flow of their breaths.
“Yea.” Katsuki manhandled Izuku into dipping his head and kissed the point where his neck met the underside of his jaw. “All doe now.” His hot breath fanned over the wet love bite he imprinted there.
The odd angle made the conversation slightly difficult to maintain but those lips made a convincing case for Izuku to keep it. He felt like a July night; hot nights with the windows opened and the AC broken; melting ice cream and sunburns. “When?”
“I’m not gonna show you, nerd.”
Then Izuku remembered the little things Katsuki did, small acts to the world, but in Katsuki’s world they were large. Katsuki catching the bills at the diner; the healthy tip he dropped for Mina on her shift. Katsuki at his house, squatting down when his mother’s spoon clattered to the ground. His jester grin wide when he threatened to dip the spoon back into the pot and earned a shriek of profanities from his mom. The hot snap to his voice when he spotted Toru struggling to heave the 40-pound box of kitty litter from her cart to the trunk of her car; grumbled over like the sight personally offended him and lifted the box wordlessly and stomped back as she thanked him.
“It’s. Uh. Awkward for me,” he explained. “I guess.”
“But this is my dream, you’re supposed to do what I want.”
“I told you. It’s my dream.”
“How can we both be in the same dream?” Izuku asked, then realized too late what he had done. He failed his arms, now dumb from sexy times and sloth, and felt his face crease into a cringe. “Wait, don’t say it.”
“Inception.” Katsuki mimicked an explosion, adding professional sound effects with his mouth. “Boom. Get fucked, Izuku.”
Least coolest person in the world.
Izuku found a pillow to escape into, safe from the pride curled valiantly on Katsuki’s face. Unsanctioned radiation. You need specialized suits to witness it unless you wanted radiation poisoning. “That…oh my god, that doesn’t exist.”
“It does. Why do you think we have dream books, huh? Because we’re entering people’s dreams. Duh.”
“Okay, first, no. Just, no, Katsuki. Okay?”
“Fine, I’ll kick you. If that wakes you up then it’s legit and you owe me donuts.”
“You’re gonna get fat. And kicks don’t work like that, hey, don’t kick me jerk.”
“Bitch,” Katsuki stretched his leg, gliding Izuku into a white knot. “Shut yo mouth.”
Amid the white folds, Izuku let out a battle cry. “I’ll kick you too!”
“Oooh, so scared. Haha—oh fuck!” One powerful shove rolled Katsuki off the bed.
Izuku winced at the resounding thump that was Katsuki face planting on the dream floor. He belly-crawled to the edge and stifled a laugh at the butt naked alpha. “Your butt is so round,” he said in awe at the spherical shape. “ Oh my god.” He poked one to test it out the fat to muscle ratio…for science, yea, science.
Katsuki’s butt was beautiful and Izuku wanted it as his pillow from now on. “It’s squishy yet firm.”
“Do not make a commentary about my ass. Fuck, are you done back there, nerd?” He hissed as Izuku laid his palm over one cheek, then giggled in delight.
“Can I bounce a quarter off it? I think your butt can do it.”
“But,” Izuku cupped his cheeks with a pout. “For science.”
For some unfathomable reason, that set Katsuki off; got him off his belly and to the bed on his knees and kissing fast and messy into Izuku’s mouth like there was something to be gained from it. “I got an experiment.”
“Oh?” The kiss left Izuku with enough energy to blink sluggishly under his lashes and to register the redness of Katsuki’s glossy lips. Apparently while Katsuki ungracefully tongue fucked him, him siphoned his strength as well. “I’m curious. Please share. Mr. Science Alpha.”
“Let’s test your gag reflex.”
“Sure, but we’re gonna need something bigger than that tiny—ah.” And now, Izuku had a dick in his mouth….Well, since it was there and Katsuki was such a delight to have in his mouth, then….
Alright, he was sucking dick. In no universe was there a more elegant way to put it.
Katsuki gloated , the gentle nature in his hands as thumbed his swollen cheeks at odds with charcoal energy in his voice.
“Yea, try mouthing off again, punk.”
He mouthed off.
Just not verbally.
The nurse opened the door and told him that Dr. Shuzenji would be with him in a few minutes. Izuku sat in one of the chairs. The walls were an off green, like mint ice cream. The room was always freezing no matter the time of the year or the temperature outside. A coffee table beside his chair collected several magazines, all in different states of usage.
He grabbed the stack and sorted through for one to pique his interest. His breath canceled itself out when he saw Katsuki staring back at him.
Of course, of all the rooms, of all the magazines abandoned at tables; Izuku landed with the one showcasing a shirtless Katsuki who looked bad. The good bad. The bad that got you in trouble with the police force, the school, and the church. Amid the headlines was: Katsuki Bakugou: The Machine & His Rise to Fame.
He flipped to the interview, interspersed with more professional shots of Katsuki—one of him in a gym, Muscle Madness owned and ran by Yagi and Mezo, as he faced down a nameless instructor with pads to catch Katsuki’s fists. Katsuki looked intense and lethal. Eyes concentrated, body tensed, skin dewy.
Another was done on a balcony with the backdrop of Las Vega strip in its prime nightlife. The lights that brightened the city, shadowed Katsuki’s face as he donned an expensive gray suit.
Other photos were of his previous fights as they happened in the ring.
He skimmed through the interview, lot of questions inquired about Katsuki’s training program, his calorie intake, how he prepared mentally for a match. The most personal it got was how Katsuki felt being trained by Yagi and how he fell into pro-alpha fighting.
Izuku heard the click of the door and tossed the magazine away.
He looked down at his hands, feeling the fast crawl of a flush over his face
“Izuku Midoriya,” Dr. Shuzenji said, setting down a click board. Izuku stood up and hugged her petite body that seemed to shrink every year. “My, my has it been years. How are you sweetie?”
Izuku sat .“About as alright as I can be. You?”
“Good, good.” She pulled out the stool. “My daughter just had her third child.”
“Congrats. Boy or girl?”
“Girl. Cute little thing. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop by for your return party. It slipped my mind.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It was just us getting drunk, you didn’t miss much.”
She scribbled something on one of the documents and clicked the top of her pen. “So what are here for today?”
“Uh,” He rubbed the back of his head. “It’s kinda about my…omega’s sex drive.”
“Oh, are you not getting your heats regularly?”
“No. I’m…horny. A lot.” He laughed a breath.
“My dear, you’re a rogue. You might have too much testosterone one month and the latter the next. Your drive will always be higher than most,” she explained.
“No. Like extra, extra.”
“Okay. Let us just check the basic and we’ll take it from there.”
They checked his weight, height, blood pressure, inspected the amount of slick he produced, asked about how often he became aroused, the intervals between one climax and the next, if he experienced pain and aches when he couldn’t take care of his needs.
“You’re not perhaps seeing someone?” Dr. Shuzenji asked, thinking about it
“Looking at everything, and by the smell. Seems like your omega’s quite taken with someone. In some cases, the omega will start to secrete stronger pheromones, sex drive will go up, will experience irritability and mood swings when they decided they’ve found an ideal mate.”
“A—mate?” Izuku spat with shock.
She hummed sympathetically. “That’s how most of these cases turn out. The omega will want to engage in intercourse as immediate as possible to establish their ownership. Have you ever mated prior to this?”
Besides the fact that bonding and mating with someone carried a heavier toll than a marriage. Izuku never found someone worth that price tag and his mother’s failed bond and broken marriage with his father, Izuku developed a healthy hesitation to it. He didn’t want to hitch his cart to anyone.
“No. Like I dated but….So I just have sex?”
“That’s up to you. I can prescribe you some pills to lower your sex drive if it’s starting to interfere with your daily activities. These pills might give you night sweats, headaches, diarrhea, an upset stomach. Take it every 5 to 6 hours, two at a time with food or water. Do not go over 12 a day.” She wrote on a prescription paper and handed it to him.
Okay, he wasn’t looking forward to blowing out both ends but maybe it would simmer down his omega so he could get through a day without wanting a cock in him. Yea, cute at first but he didn’t want to be thinking about cock when he was at the table with his mom.
“Will it go away?”
“Eventually, that’ s all on your omega, dearie. I’m afraid I can’t give you a time frame. I think the best course of action would be to speak to the person your omega is taken with.”
And who would that be—Hitoshi? Katsuki?
…Who was he fooling; it was Katsuki. It had to be him. He was all he thought about, dreamed about, fantasized, his body became an active bomb whenever he were near, his skin lit up like neon lights when they touched, his scent made his mouth water.
Izuku: new phone. Who dis?
Katsuki: for real?
Izuku: no. what do you want?
Katsuki: I was an asshole
Katsuki: a massive one.
Katsuki: heres a cat vid 4 u [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnk15Wf6xMU]
Izuku: MY HEART!! tOo cUTE!!
Izuku: aw they’re wearing ppl clothes
Izuku: I was rude too.
Katsuki: come on. Just say I was a dick. Don’t do that thing where u say sorry too.
Izuku: Ok, you were a huge douche
Izuku: I’m sorry too tho
Izuku: what u do today?
Katsuki: u lil shit. I said no sorry.
Katsuki: and yagi kicking my ass with training
Katsuki: have to drop weight to fight
Katsuki: u been keeping up?
Izuku: ur literally a celeb so hard not too
Katsuki: gonna watch my fight?
Katsuki: DUDE!! WTF
Izuku: I’m kidding, you jerk. I’m totally gonna watch it.
Katsuki: u better bitch. How was ur day?
Izuku: probably boring compared to yours.
Katsuki: all I do is workout and blast lil wayne on my block. Don’t kno y u think I’m sipping crystal and flying planes
Izuku: because you act like you do drink crystal? Lol
Katsuki: I was gonna give you a bottle but nah. Fuck u
Katsuki yanked the cart to a stop, everything strong, alpha, powerful in his gym-hardened body crumbled at the sight. Donuts. Sweet, sweet, age docking, cocaine level addictive donuts.
Yagi restricted his diet to the bare essentials—steamed chicken breast, broccoli, and fish. Normally when you wanted to get big, you ate a large sum of calories. 5,000 or some of that range depending on your desired gains.
Katsuki always went big. Alpha blood and all. Plus weight training took to his body faster than most alphas so he rarely had to exude willpower.
So he was craving bad at this point, body fueled by the same mundane meal. He checked the area, empty; one drunk or two because of the late hour and the proximity of the store to the bar.
He left the cart, approached. “Oh, fuck me. You bad girls. Which one of you would like to come home with daddy, huh? Powder? Chocolate? Cinnamon?” He dragged his finger over the packaging. Shit, son, when was the last time he dined on anything that came out of a warehouse and loaded with pheromones and antibodies that would shorten his lifespan and probably give him heart failure?
Very, bad girls, indeed.
“Katsuki?” Izuku chirped.
Katsuki hid the box behind his back. It only made him look a hundred times guiltier with the enormous donut display right behind him. “Deku. Sup.”
Not suspicious at all.
The omega smiled, freckles prominent against his tanned skin— L.A. beach coasts would do that to even the fairest of people—and it felt redundant to say Izuku got pretty real fast after high school but he did. And Katsuki was still in the process of handling that fact.
Butterflies raved. He felt like one massive conductor of electricity whenever Izuku blinked his green eyes at him.
He felt shitty too; a sick, tar like feeling that you got when you snuck in behind the red curtain of a theater, behind the door of EMPLOYEES ONLY, past the chain link fence, under the red and blue washes of a police car. Guilt. Shame. You’re not supposed to be back here, son.
Like you’re not allowed to feel this way about a guy you bullied by choice. Yea, there was a lot going on at the time and in retrospect, you got why he was your target but that hardly excused it. Excused you. He cried.
I did that.
We did that.
I hope I can stop doing that.
“You were talking to the donuts,” he said.
Katsuki scratched the back of his neck. Of all the people—celebs, talk show hosts, models, directors, artists— Izuku was the one guy to get him so unhinged. So un-Katsuki. Like he chatted with Hugh Jackman after one of his matches, the fucking Wolverine, and after the wave of his inner fanboy creaming himself, Katsuki clapped his big hand and smirked.
Said, “Maybe I can play Logan after you”, which the guy laughed at heartily and patted his shoulder hard. All that muscle? Not Hollywood magic.
“No…Fine,” he confessed, flashing the evidence. If his cheeks weren’t red before they were now. He couldn’t be any un-cooler if he tried.
Izuku muted a grin, trying to suck on his lips as he examined the box. He passed it back. “I thought you were trying to drop the weight.”
“Don’t tell Yagi,” he said, shooting a paranoid look around the donut display for a tall stock of corn yellow hair with the fear his name might summon him. “I’m fucking dying. I want to be fat for one damn day.”
“Maybe it won’t be that bad if we split it,” he suggested boldly, then seemed to come to grip with what he said and flushed. “That’s weird. I’m weird. Why did I say that? Ugh, stop that thing with your face.”
“What thing?” He asked with a smirk. Glad to not be the only one with some red in his face.
Red looked good on him.
“That thing you always do in be—Be quiet you.” He raised his voice, red again, laying on him the stink eye. Like a huffy Pomeranian.
“I didn’t say anything.” For once, right, haha.
Look at that rude mouth staying shut, good on you, Bakugou.
Izuku ducked his eyes away. “Well, shut up. Please.”
“Weirdo,” he joked, breaking into a grin when Izuku gasped dramatically and swatted his stomach. “So you wanna kill this shit with me? Can you play with the big dogs?”
“Are you asking if I can stuff my face with fat sweets cause you bet your booty I can,” he laughed with a smile so oversaturated with sweetness and goodness you would think Walt Disney rose from the grave and drew it on Izuku’s face by hand.
Disney laughs too, like the sound of a drizzle over the mirror surface of a lake. Someone people had wicked ugly laughs, like Denki. Others were average. Izuku could win awards for his.
Fucking nauseating; Mr. Cinderella here with Katsuki as the bitch step mom.
Gross, but kind of endearing. There seemed to be an never ending supply in him like a waterfall. Infinity.
A lot good.
A lot of sweetness.
A lot of shit polar opposite of him.
Should annoy him but—nah.
Katsuki felt special, getting a piece of that so freely. Stealing it. Five-finger discount. Under the jacket and into the waistband when the guard had his back turn.
“Alright. Hide it.” Katsuki stuffed the incriminating box into Izuku’s basket, buried it under the loaf of beard and a bag of Doritos.
He rolled his eyes, watching Katsuki go through the painstaking ordeal of concealing an item you didn’t want people to realize you were concealing deliberately. “It’s donuts, not contraband.”
“You don’t know how hardcore Yagi is. He sees this shit, and I’ll be sweating out my ass from suicides and burpees.”
“Wow. Like I would love to be cut like you but I like eating Twinkies.”
“You fucking bitch,” Katsuki growled. “I hope you get cellulite.”
Egged on by Katsuki’s jealously, he continued with a confidential whisper. “Sometimes, I’ll eat both Twinkies too. Maybe have some Mountain Dew.”
“You piece of shit,” he groaned, clenching his fist as he reminisced on the phantom memories of carbonated glorified drinks and the fluff sweetness of heaven that was called Twinkies.
They went to the one place in town where you could get up to no good and expect that no good to keep out of the prying ears of gossiping ladies. They argued the last time by the lake, now he was splitting a box of donuts—of all the things—with Katsuki. It felt like a completed circle coming back, not that it was a pivotal moment. More like placing nicer memories over the crappy ones.
Izuku was getting a lot of those here; better memories to think about. His hometown didn’t feel as scary now, like a monster under the stairway in the basement. No longer a place of trepidation.
A perk of growing up, some of your demons got mini sized when you weren’t looking.
“Uh,” Katsuki said after biting into a powder donut. “My bad about the lake, man.”
A wind rustled through the pines. Skimmed the water. The moon wiggled on the reflection like a belly dancer.
You ever get this feeling in a quiet space where the world was an orchestra to your moon light conversations?
He got that.
“Me too.” He kicked his feet idly over the hood of the Challenger. “I was angry at first but after…I just felt bad for it.”
Katsuki halved a donut. “Well. You kinda had a good reason.”
“Yea but I went off.”
He shrugged. “Eh. I kinda had it coming.”
When Izuku turned his head at that, Katsuki refused to meet him. “Don’t say that. You’re not perfect but it’s not okay to treat you poorly.”
Katsuki smiled. It wasn’t real. Sour. Bitter like bad dark chocolate. He licked the powder off his fingers. “It’s weird hearing that from you of all people.”
“It’s weird hanging out with you.”
“Good weird or bad weird?” He asked.
Aside from the few bumps on the road, Izuku…liked this. “Good, definitely good. Can I ask you something?”
Katsuki munched on a powder donut, mouth lined in white. “Go ahead.”
“Why are you close with my mom?”
“Oh.” He swallowed with difficulty. Wiped his hands hastily down his jeans.
His omega ached instantly, a ghost hurt throbbing in his chest. A hurt not belonging to him…but Katsuki’s. Made sense, you felt the aftershock of your mate’s emotions and pain. If he had any doubt about who his omega pinned for as their alpha, it was clear now.
“I’m not saying you can’t be but…”
Katsuki cracked the air bubbles in his knuckles. “Yea. I get it.”
Izuku thought his skin was a human suit of stitched, alive butterflies—a frenzied flapping.
Part of him wanted to cancel his request and just pass the hours to midnight with calories and harmless conversation. No personal previews. A public screening.
“…Is it too personal—I can. You don’t—”
“You mean she hasn’t told you?” He countered with a smirk that never touched his eyes. They lit up when he found something—mostly himself—hilarious.
“My mom is very respectful about other people’s business,” Izuku said. “She doesn’t go around gossiping about serious stuff and I wanted to ask you directly.”
“…Shit. I thought someone would’ve blabbed.”
“Fuck. Uh. Shit. It’s uh…My mom. Died.” He clapped his hands harshly on his thighs, rubbed up and down like trying to wipe away the word.
The word siphoned all the warmth out of his body.
“And…” He split off with a humorless, bitter, shattered laugh. Like a bucket thrown into a barren well. “And uh…well. I’m an asshole. To everyone, and I was to her too. And, fuck, I was in Vegas when she got into a car crash.”
Izuku closed his hand over his mouth, feeling the buildup of tears behind his eyes. Death was a difficult thing; no duh, right; but what was harder. Sadder. More gutting was the people in the aftermath. The people learning to cope. Learning that person was erased. That the moments they missed, the ones they fucked up, the ingored calls and texts, the times they couldn’t be bothered to put up with that person— were all the memories they had now. There was no re-do button, no restart, no deus-ex machina to bring back a loved one.
He pressed on, voice sounding like what meat did going through an industrial size meat grinder. Crunching. Slice of metal cutting air. “And she fell into a coma…I left Vegas with Yagi and trained here for a while until he said for me to be with my family and leave the ring. And…I fucking couldn’t.”
His knee bounced. He tried to crack his joints again. “I went once to see her and I—“ His whole body shivered. “I fucking…I-I couldn’t. My dad went all the time. But he was a total fucking stonewall about it and well, I’m not any damn better. If we talked, I found an excuse to fight him.”
“After a few months, they told us she probably wouldn’t come out of it. That if she managed too then she would be…It wouldn’t be the same. She went too long without oxygen or some bullshit. They told us it was our choice if we wanted to pull the plug.”
“Katsuki,” he said with no follow-up. None came to mind, but he doubted any sort would fill up the hole in Katsuki’s heart.
For the first time, Katsuki looked at him. Brief but, he breathed easier seeing Izuku seeing him back. A confirmation. An ‘I’m not back there again. I’m here. You’re here. We’re here. Keep me here.’. “Just…let me, okay, just be…”
He nodded, sloppily wiping back the fat tears of pain on his cheeks.
“My dad…he didn’t give them an answer. We left. Went home. He drank in front of the TV, which he didn’t do for years. He’d quit drinking for my mom…We didn’t know what to do but we couldn’t just off her. We waited. It cost a lot to keep someone who’s not completely dead fucking alive. Surprise, right, that’s our healthcare at work. I sold my apartment in Vegas, used the money to keep her.”
Izuku grabbed his hand. He didn’t care if Katsuki wanted his touch or not; he just had to be there.
Maybe they were astronomically far from being mates or whatever.
Maybe these were feelings that would pass if they allowed it.
Maybe Katsuki wouldn’t return shit; maybe he couldn’t give it back.
But he was going to hold his hand through this. Through the dark shit. Could do that; wanted to do that and locked Katsuki’s thick fingers between his. They dangled, limp, at first before they learned to take the comfort in Izuku’s grip and coiled tight.
A moment passed, silent save from the ripples in the lake when fireflies glided over the crystal surface and the awful sniffs from Katsuki, where neither of them spoke. Izuku let Katsuki work up to the ending though he could connect the dots on his own. Katsuki scarcely mentioned family, and at the time he had chalked it up to Katsuki being so full of his career and his wild friends. The other reality never entered his mind.
“Then one day, boom, dead,” he concluded, his voice so ancient and forgotten Izuku could hear the cobwebs.
“I’m so sorry.” He squeezed tighter, nails imprinting red half-moons on the back of Katsuki’s hand.
“And you know what the worst thing is?” Katsuki asked, full tears ran from his eyes, snort clogged his nose, and Izuku’s heart shattered from the hurt in his voice. “What fucking kills me? I called her a nagging bitch. Those were my last words to my mom. When she died, that’s all she probably thought about. Me, her asshole, ungrateful, scrum bag of a son. I can count on my fingers the number of times I said I loved her. That’s how shitty I was to her. But did she fucking stop caring about me? No. No matter how horrible I was, she was still there. Still supporting me.”
“She knows you loved her, Katsuki. She knows.”
Katsuki wrenched his hand out of his, livid. It was a terrible mash-up of emotions when he scowled at him, like a kid with a palette of watercolors. “I was a fucking asshole to you too and you’re still talking to my ass.”
That collection of words should feel gratifying—the K.O on the TV screen, the walk across the stage, the finally. They’re tacky.
Izuku looked at the lake. Considered how to decipher this ball of feelings in his chest. Looked back, then said. “I won’t say what you did to me didn’t hurt. It did.”
“No. You got every right to hate me,” he growled, furious that Izuku wasn’t furious too. “Shit, you don’t have to even feel bad for me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
And he really didn’t. Katsuki always had him twisted like the dents in cars after a crash.
He deflated, the rage in him receding out and he looked smaller for it. Less broad and alpha-y. “You should.”
“I don’t want to.” Izuku gnawed on his lip, watching Katsuki as he stared at the lake. “Look, what happened happened. I can’t change it. You can’t either. But you can do better now. It’ll take time but you’re stubborn. I think you can do it.”
Silver traced his profile. He said with the silver outlining his mouth. “I’m sorry. For back then.”
“See,” Izuku said lightly, jostling Katsuki’s shoulder, who was not braced for it and almost toppled off the hood. ”You’re already doing better. Look at that.” He laughed; Katsuki looked desperate to be angry at him but had no fuel for it.
He huffed, after he bumped Izuku with enough strength to unbalance him too. “You douche.”
“Sorry.” He scooted close. The microscopic distance between their hands splayed on the hood were mountains parting a forest. His heat felt amazing. The reassuring press of his bicep stabilized him. Made this swirling globe still. “I don’t like seeing you cry. I wanted you to smile.”
“First.” He tapped him on the nose; Izuku pretended to feel pain. “I don’t fucking cry. Second, sorry.” Whatever courage he had before, sizzled out. The alpha shrugged; Izuku was glad the mad guilt and shame buzzing inside him had gone away for now. “Doesn’t make up for shit but—”
“You are so stupid right now. You are always apologizing.”
“I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”
Katsuki clapped a hand over his mouth. “Dude. Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m sorry.” Izuku said,
“I’m going to gag you with these donuts.” He hinted at the box with his eyes. “You want that?”
Uh…rhetorical question or not?
Because Izuku had a list of demands.
“..Yes,” he said while his internal dialogue went along the line of crap, push me against this car and kiss me. Put your damn hands on me. Touch me like you do in my head. Hold me. Steal what you want. I don’t want to be able to breathe.
Katsuki shook his head, teething on a smirk and serving Izuku a mean case of the vapors. Christ on a stick, his teeth were pristinely white—when did he develop a teeth fetish—, his mouth red from him running them over it, his eyes expressive—a closed chest now opened for him. “You fucking numbskull.”
Katsuki’s hand dropped; returned with a donut. “I don’t want any evidence left. Get fucking fat.”
“Your level of paranoia is starting to scare me,” he said, a gross smile emerged on his face as Katsuki bit into a powder donut, the space above his upper lips lined with a white sugary mustache. “Oh my god.”
Katsuki smacked his lips as he chewed like a camel and motioned for Izuku to fuss up about whatever had him squealing in a pitch audible only to dogs. “What?”
“You have a mustache.”
He rolled his eyes and swiped his thumb over Izuku’s lips, stunning Izuku with the un-telegraphed action with his landmine fingertips that he stared for a full minute at the white powder on Katsuki’s finger, sightless. “You got one too, dumbass.”
He got home past elven. His mom was in the kitchen, flipping through a sales paper with a notepad and pen. She looked up as he locked the door and shuffled into a chair. He hummed when her finger combed through his hair.
“I talked to Katsuki,” he said.
She hummed, circling items in the paper. “Did you now? I was wondering why you were late.”
“Yea,” he puffed out a tiny chuckle, looking at the tablecloth embroidered with red flowers. “Actually. We…” Ate donuts; sounded really dumb then. What middle schoolers did after they got their allowance. “We hung out.”
“I was beginning to worry.”
“Sorry.” He rubbed his under eyes where exhausted, emotional and physical, tugged. “I should’ve texted. I just ran into him at the store.”
She nodded, still scanning the sales paper.
“He told me about his mom.”
She startled out of her task, with no surprise on her face but a bittersweet happiness. “I’m glad he’s opening up about it.”
“Is that why he’s here all the time?” His stomach kind of sank with the small look she gave him. That yea, he’s here pretending his mom isn’t gone with another mom.
“He was lashing out a lot at the time,” she answered, pushing back her hair. “ Even Yagi, who is normally very good at curbing Katuski’s alpha, had some trouble keeping him straight. He got a DUI and the judge wanted him to serve it in jail. Many of us felt he wouldn’t do better with a bunch of alphas. So I asked if Katsuki could do community hours with me at the shelter instead.”
The mental image that provided left him with a quirking half smile; Katsuki surrounded by puppies and kittens with a cool smirk like their cuteness had no effect on him.
“How did that go?”
“He was grumpy.” She moved her shoulders up and down in a what can you expect. “Very standoffish. It took some time for him to talk about his mother.”
“Yea,” he mumbled for lack of anything better to add. The memory was still vivid, big Katsuki shrunk so small he was ant under the weight of it. It would be a long time before talking became easier.
“Then he talked me about the bullying,” his mother said as she stared at him.
He blinked. “What?”
She grabbed his hand. Caressed her thumb over the back of his. “I mean I knew you had a tough time in school but you never shared much with me about it at the time. Not that it’s any excuse for me, I should’ve been a better mother to you and pressured you to speak up.”
“It’s not your fault.” Izuku scratched his cheek. “I didn’t…I didn’t want you to worry about it. A lot was going on with you and…dad.”
“I know, baby, and I’m grateful you would look out for me like that. But I’m your mother and you should always be my top concern. I want you to know if anything happens to you, you can come to me. I don’t care if it’s where I’m busy or I’m tired or anything. My job is to be here for you. You will always come first, Izuku. You can be in your 50s and I will still baby you.”
He face planted, laughing with small, wet tears. Bitter ones, because he had her. He had her and every time he thought no one loved him, that no one cared about him, his mother came around and showed him the good in him. The good he forgot. He still had his mom.
He felt awful for the thought.
“God.” He lifted his head and smeared his free hand over his cheeks. “Don’t. I’ll be the laughing stock of the retirement home.”
“I love you.”
“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry more,” he sniffed. “I love you too…What did he say to you?”
“He told me he was sorry for treating you like that and I told him, he had better be sorry.” She showed Izuku her fist and shook it violently to demonstrate she meant business.
“Mom.” He groaned.
“You’re still my baby…I’m not surprised Katsuki turned out like he did. Not to speak ill of his mother, god rest her soul, but she was so young when she had him. Still a teen herself. And his father had his drinking problems. They had a lot of fights.” She touched her chest. “Thankfully, he never laid a hand on her or Katsuki but it’s still not a good place for a child. “
Izuku’s father had walked out of his life. The walls in his childhood were gone a father and filled with less frames. Izuku got silence. Katsuki’s life was saturated in noise. “I had no idea.”
“Well you don’t talk about matters like this with kids. And it’s in bad taste to gossip like that.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too—aw, Izuku, don’t cry.” He had crawled on to her lap, too big for it, too old too, but somethings you never grew out of. There wouldn’t be a day where his mother’s arms couldn’t cure his problems, wash away the negativity, inspire a ball of hope that he could rise above his obstacles.
“You’re a great mom.”
“I’m only a good mom because you made me one, baby.”
Katsuki: hey. better keep those donuts between us, dickhead.
Izuku: my lips are sealed.
Katsuki: Cool. Night.
Izuku: Goodnight, donut alpha.
Izuku laughed when Katsuki’s next text was of Liam Neeson from the film Taken, speaking into the phone with the subtitles, “I will find you and I will kill you”.
a while ago they found a tumor in my mom (it was on its way to becoming cancer) so naturally, i was terrified for the surgery, passed the fuck out when i went to visit her (don't worry we laugh about that now). SHE IS OKAY, tho, please don't worry. This was her second run in with cancer and again, she kicked it ass. My momma ain't got time for that shit.
and yea i put my fears, my emotions about losing her into Katsuki and i just hoped it made you emotional b/c it was the first time that I wrote something that made me want to cry.
1st u guys moved me to tears w/ ur comments on the last chap, thank u.
warning: uh, chapter 9 will fix things, i swear.
side note: this is where we get into the APL scene more and to the question whether it's like MMA or like Boxing or UFC, it's a combo of all sports.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
He woke up with curls tickling his nose. Izuku pillowed his head on his chest, legs tangled with his in a mess of limbs.
Katsuki rose, moved Izuku on his back, slipped the sheets back. Heart racing like the thunder of hooves on a dirt track at each inch of freckled skin. He sucked on his fingers, slicking his fingers messily. Pulled it, spit stringing from his mouth. Watched Izuku hum in his sleep, feeling reckless and wild at the sight of him.
Fucking forgotten candy. His to unwrap and devour.
He dragged his wet fingertip down his stomach and in between his legs, breathing heavily out his nose when he pumped his fingers in. He watched Izuku’s face for discomfort but got only him parting his mouth with a whimpery breath. He slicked in faster, a little harder, fingers pulling away wetter with each pump.
Izuku woke up slowly, body moving down on his fingers.
He blinked, disoriented from the pleasure overcoming him. “Ah…Katsuki?”
“Wakey, wakey.” He pecked him lightly on the mouth, preferring to watch Izuku arch and buck like they had nowhere else to be and in this dream world, they didn’t. “Time for dick and sex.”
Izuku said with a moan. “It’s egg and bacon, doofus.”
“Don’t talk about food when I’m harder than a diamondback.”
“If you’re hungry.” His head tipped back with a soft moan as Katsuki dipped in a third finger. Izuku looked like a filter you found on SnapChat, softened, in shades of pink, fairytale pretty, eyes Disney green. “Then you should…”
He cupped the back of Katsuki’s head and put pressure on it. Bringing him down.
His head felt stuffed with cotton balls.
“Haha, no fucking way, you’re trying to tell me to eat you out?”
Izuku frowned, rolling on his side and batting Katsuki’s advances when he tried to finger him. “Nevermind.”
“That’s fucking sexy.” He pressed his chest against Izuku’s spine, ghosting his mouth from his shoulders to the slope of his neck. He counted the freckles peppered here and there; he lost the tally every time.
Izuku turned his head. “You don’t think…it’s…weird?”
“You mean you?” He asked to which Izuku nodded shyly in answer. “No. I like when you tell me what you want.”
“Could you?” He asked.
“Eat that tight little ass?” He laughed huskily. “Shit, I would have you for every fucking meal.”
“Oh my god.” Izuku grabbed a pillow and buried himself under it.
Katsuki wrestled him for it and threw it off the bed. “Now you wanna act shy.”
“You’re so extra,” he panted as Katsuki hooked one of his legs over his and reached for his ass.
Katsuki stopped, slipping his fingers out. “Did you just meme me?”
He rolled away and gave Izuku his back.
Izuku kissed the nape of his neck. “Haha. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”
“Trying to get you all sexed up and you pulled a meme on me,” he grumbled. “Look, my dick’s soft as dough.”
Izuku shot up, shoved Katsuki on his back, and pumped his cock drily, without a formal invitation not that Izuku needed any from Katsuki. He was game for it all.
He watched Izuku’s jack off his cock, swelling fast and thick at the almost crude way he was playing with him. “Fuck.”
He whispered into the shell of his ear. “Did you think he’ll get hard if I suck him?”
“Fuck, fuck. Izuku.”
“I’m kinda hungry too. Maybe I should try. He’s not that hard.” He sighed, breath rattling with lust.
Lie, lie, lie. Katsuki was solid. From his grip; from his grown body pressing flush against him; from the wet, gritty rasp in his voice; from his green eyes leaving no part of Katsuki unseen, taking score, taking mental pictures, shaming every past conquest because not one had Katsuki living with a bomb in his gut.
He went on his elbows, craning his neck for Izuku’s mouth which he playfully avoided and kissed his cheek. “Shit. Please?”
“Please what?” Izuku teased, nosing his jaw with these damning hot breaths that spiraled goosebumps on his skin. “I like it too when you tell me what to do.”
“Oh, you cum guzzling shitbag,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes.
“Cum guzzling? Pfft.” He spluttered, dropping his head on Katsuki’s chest as he trembled with laughter.
“Let’s see you laugh with your mouth on my dick. Go on.” He rapped his knuckles on Izuku’s crown. When he peeked up from under his dark curls, Katsuki helpfully pointed to where his dick laid. Semi-hard. “ Suck me with that pretty mouth. And stop making everything a joke! This is sexy time.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” He straightened, face soft again. “You just…”
Katsuki didn’t think anyone ever looked at him like that. Yea, he had fangirls and fanboys who pledged their undying love but they knew Katsuki Bakugou, the pro alpha, the machine, the guy in the ring, the guy on the TV and in professional photos. They were gone on the fantasy of him.
No one was gone on the real him.
“What?” He asked. Annoyed with himself for getting flustered by his stare. He had cameras and hundreds of eyes on him at many points, Katsuki rarely crumbled under the pressure of an audience.
Izuku pursed his lips, then shrugged, tracing invisible patterns on Katsuki’s chest. “Dunno, you just do. Uh, whatever you do. You do it well?”
“The fuck does that mean.”
“I don’t know,” he whined, liquidizing into a puddle on the bed with his moans of embarrassment.
“So have I been upgraded from asshole to sort of asshole?” He poked puddle Izuku who reminded him of a cat with his forehead pressed down.
“Something like that,” liquid Izuku said. Katsuki started to count the freckles on his back. “Still an asshole but a good asshole.”
“Your compliments suck ass,” he said, internally tallying off freckle number 35.
“Fine.” Izuku surfaced; there went the tally. Oh no, he would have to get Izuku naked all over to finish it, how awful. “You’re so sexy it hurts.”
Katsuki ran his teeth over his bottom lip and kept it there.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Izuku cautioned him, face helping its self to the colorful palette of flustered Izuku number 4. Yea, there were several stages and piss off, he did keep with it.
“Fucking cringe, dude. So much cringe.”
“You’re ugly then,” he huffed, then immediately looked treasonous for the comment.
He smirked, skimming hand over Izuku’s outer thighs. Freckles gathered there too, god, he didn’t think he would have a fetish for freckles but here they were. “Yea, okay.”
“Ugh. Okay. I can say something non-cringey. Here.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply for the courage and willpower to be the pinnacle of sexy talk. “ You’re sexy. Hot. Gorgeous.” He braced a hand and lowered himself down, mouthed Katsuki’s pec, hips subconsciously bucking. “Hard. Cut. Pretty. Donut monster.”
Katsuki jerked his chin up, crashed his mouth over Izuku’s, and hoped the fever in him transfer over to that little prick because these dreams were the best and worst thing to happen to him. He was a normal alpha once until Izuku Midoriya wandered back home. Muscular. Grown. Leagues better than Katsuki once gave him credit for. With a wrecking ball to Katsuki’s senses.
Guess that what mates did to other each, fucked the other half. Not pulling the rug but ripping the asphalt off the road. Try standing now.
Katsuki was falling; where? Who the fuck knew but he was certain it wasn’t away from Izuku and somewhere with heartbreak and happiness sat side by side like pals in a foggy bar.
He wouldn’t say love. Big word there. A massive weight too like cinder blocks.
But it wasn’t not love either; you get where he was going with this?
Basically he was fucked, and not giving a real damn if the drop shattered his knees when he made impact.
“See,” he laughed against his mouth, talking between the wet dips Katsuki’s tongue was taking in his mouth. “Master of Non-cringe.”
“You called me a donut monster.” Their lips smacked apart loudly. Izuku reconnected them, breathing hard out his nose, fingers greedy in Katsuki’s hair. “I have to kill you now.”
Izuku gasped, flipped on his back now with Katsuki spreading his thighs lewdly. He crawled on top of him and Izuku hooked his thighs at his hip, shivering whenever Katsuki’s cock brushed against his wet hole. “Is this killing me?”
“Yea. Very painful. You’re going to cry at how bad I’m gonna hurt you,” he teased.
He arched, Katsuki sucked a nipple between his lips and circled the bud with his tongue.
He popped it out and mouthed to the other one, sucking and teething as Izuku withered under him madly.
“Your cock,” he rasped, hand scratching down his back and over his asscheeks. Felt those nail sink in deep, put Izuku Midoriya was here brands over his skin, shackled him to the spot—shit, where the fuck was Katsuki gonna go when he had the blue globe in the form of candy apple green eyes and dark freckles.
“Put it in.” He shivered, Izuku’s wet tongue licking up the shell of his ear. Got some teeth in addition, tugging on his lobe. He could feel Izuku smiling at the violent shudders disabling him. “Katsuki. Please. Want you inside me. Want you bad.”
“Baby.” Izuku rasped. But it was not a rasp; the unintended pitch your voice stumbled into by chance during sex. Nah. It was the rasp; the intended, the seducer, giving your arousal baby wings to the top, the coin trick of female porn stars—their dirty little baby.
Izuku was winding up like a whore. But the hands were him; unconditional Izuku.
The Izuku that was like—yea, baby, I’m gonna hold you with your cracks and dents. Let the rain pour into the car. I want your broken AC. The blinking brake light. The screaming brakes. The scratched leather. The paint was flashy—pretty Katsuki, man, what a nice looking guy but god, what an asshole, right, haha—but the interior; fucked up.
Izuku kissed him; legitimately robbing his breath.
Izuku grabbed his ass, marking Katsuki for all the fools to know—dibs.
He felt drunk on sex.
Drunk on marshmallows, cotton candy, sprinkles, whip cream—all the distinct sensations property of Izuku Midoriya; sweet.
Drunk that he could feel like this?
Whoa, you could be happy on fucking love; did you know that?
So that was why we had so many fucking love songs.
Katsuki grabbed his hard cock, hissing—shit, Izuku barely played with him and he was this bad. Always, always, always this awful. A second from going nuclear.
It was all a dream, right now.
But damn if he didn’t want this all in his reality.
Well, he should have it.
They’re mates but…it was more than that.
Izuku was always there. A beacon in Katsuki’s life, working like gravity and tugging Katsuki willing or not. And that tug brought some shit Katsuki the middle schooler, the high schooler, the awkward teen to adult, wasn’t fully equip to handle.
Izuku tipped his head back, sobbing as Katsuki’s fat cock pressed into his ass. “Kats—Katsuki. Yea. God yes. More.”
Yagi picked him up and promptly brought him back down on the matt.
Katsuki choked, the air in his lungs punched out with the move.
Yagi let him gather his breath. “You’re getting faster. Much better. Maybe we should keep you in lightweight.”
Katsuki squatted, head between his legs. “Dude.” He wheezed. “No.”
Yagi roared with laughter. “Ah, I love your commitment to heavyweight, Bakugou. Now, c’mon, no resting now. The weigh-in is in a week and you’re still a two pounds over.”
“You. Fucking. Madman.”
“Go, KitKat!” Eijirou cheered on the sidelines with a granola bar and a bottle of Gatorade, not suffering like Katsuki. He had some damn nerve.
“Fuck off, you piece of shit,” he said with little bite.
“Fine, I won’t share my snacks with you. Mezo, do you want my second granola bar? It’s super tasty.” He chewed on the granola, moaning loudly for Katsuki’s benefit.
“You bitch,” he growled, watching Mezo take the offered granola and unwrapping it.
Yagi dropped an elbow on the back of his neck. “Bakugou, eyes on your opponent. Don’t get careless because of your previous victories. You must treat every opponent like they are your last.”
“Jesus!” He yelled on the mat. Again. Which was on par when you sparred with Yagi; you didn’t exactly fight as much as you painted your face against the mat.
“Is in Heaven,” Yagi joked. A dad joke, god Yagi was so terrible. “It shouldn’t hurt that bad. It was less than 30%.”
Katsuki closed his eyes in pain, gnawing on his lip. “Well it hurts, dickhead!” Fuck, it felt like someone dropped a bowling ball from a hundred feet in the air on his neck.
A shadow loomed over him in the shape of Yagi’s foot, Katsuki rolled out of the way, contracted the muscles in his abs, and launched to his feet, slithering under a powerful left hook fast enough to feel the rush of air move through his hair.
Katsuki rolled, then got up, twisting his arm back.
Yagi was faster, blurring around the hit.
“Excellent dodge and counter,” Yagi praised, then punched him for his effort with a cobra fast jab. “Speed like that will outshine Fujimi but if you want to be my successor, you have to do better.”
Katsuki clutched his ribs, and stumbled back to put the cage behind him.
Yagi was a wall of offense and defense. Think you got him on speed and he matched you. Fooled yourself with the thought that maybe that uppercut did some damage and Yagi taught you what real damage felt like.
The alpha lifted his fists, the smile on his face intense, the blue in his small eyes bright like a blowtorch. “I don’t want you to leave this pen until you land ten more hits on me.”
“Fine. I want pizza though.”
Yagi lost his veil of intensity. “But you’ve been doing so well with your diet.”
“Oh fuck yea. Pizza!” Eijirou clapped. “Man, I wished we had a Papa Johns here.”
Mezo said. “One night shouldn’t hurt. He’s doing the wetsuit training anyway before at the end of the week. He should drop at least five pounds at this rate.”
“Alright. Pizza. With pineapple.”
“Ew,” Katsuki and Eijirou shunned.
Yagi frowned, looking incredibly childish with the juvenile expression and his Hulk broad body. “But it’s delicious, like when you have ham and honey and pineapple. God, I’m so hungry.”
“Pizza?” Eijirou prodded.
Katsuki slapped his palm on the cage where Eijirou looked in like a Pepping-Tom. “You sound like a Ninja Turtle.”
“You’re such a Raph.”
“No. Training. We must train! Then rewards! Come on, boys.”
“Izuku! Izuku, hurry! Katsuki’s coming.”
Very poor choice of words but his mother was excited. Actually the whole town was probably glued to their T.V. as Katsuki graced the conference stage of the official APL weighin.
His mother yanked on his arm. “Sit, sit.”
He laughed, tumbling down with a bowel of popcorn. “Okay. Settle down.”
She pinched him on the cheek. “Hush now, you know it’s exciting to see one of our own up on the TV.”
- YouTube. Magazines. Billboards. Social media. The world was buzzing about the feud between Katsuki and Romero. You couldn’t escape the speculation over each fighter’s careers, fighting style, trainers, years of experience; whether Katsuki could carry Yagi’s mantle of undefeated for as long as he did, a goal of Katsuki’s but he was humble about his progress on that one, knowing Yagi trained since the age of six whereas Katsuki started as a young adult.
Yagi, Mezo, Eijirou, and a few other beefcakes served as Katsuki’s entourage. A show of strength and numbers. Half of the alphas were testing the seams of their Ed Hardy shirts while Katsuki and Yagi traded in the casual look for sharp suits.
Katsuki had his hard-earned championship belt slung over his shoulder, the reflective gold catching the flashes of the cameras. He and Yagi took their seat. Katsuki sat the belt forward for the camera.
“Goodness. Katsuki is on fleek,” his mother gasped.
Izuku whipped out his phone and sent an emergency text to Ochako, who had yet to make her appearance at the Midoriya’s household for ‘girl’s night’.
Izuku: My mom used the word fleek. Get here NOW. ASAP
Ochako: LMAO. I love ur mom
Izuku: Did you know she said turnt to me more than once? Turnt, Ochako. Turnt.
Ochako: why u always hating boo?
Izuku: I hope mothman find you!
Ochako: I will lead him straight to ur house so ull die with me!
Izuku: I can’t believe you
Ochako clicked in with her heels and a bottle of tequila. “I brought vodak!”
“Isn’t that a little strong for a Thursday night?” Izuku eyed the bottle with concern then checked the TV to see if they were still announcing other alphas and saw a few fresh alphas
She wiggled her butt between them, slipping off her pink heels, still in her work uniform. “Is it? Your mom can down four without flinching.”
He leaned around Ochako to properly shout at his mother to counter this. “Mom!”
“Aw, Ochako.” His mom kissed Ochako on the cheek. “You’re too kind. Its just tolerance I built from my party days. At my age, you’ll barely feel the liquor.”
Izuku lost strength in his fingers and the bowel tipped slightly before Ochako caught it. “Party days? You had party days?”
“Yes,” she hummed. With fondness, mind you. Fond memories. His mom had—my god. “I was a nightmare for your grandmother,” she made the cross over her heart, “May she rest in peace, the second I finished choir practice I was at the lake with everyone. Doing body shots. I think I might have kissed a girl once or twice but those days are so hazy cause I was smoking weed too at the time.”
Izuku thought it was late in the day for him to have an existential crisis. “Please tell me this is a joke.”
“Nope,” she chirped.
Could you die from embarrassment? An unhealthy amount of heat and blood flooded his head, what if it exploded from the condensed heat?
He wouldn’t have to hear his mother say turnt ever again, so that was one of the pluses.
“How is it that I never knew this?”
“Well I couldn’t exactly tell you about my wild days when you were playing hopscotch.”
His phone rattled on the coffee table.
Katsuki: u watching??
Izuku: hey, try picking your nose!
Katsuki: wtf? How about I get naked?
Izuku: you can’t…right?
Katsuki:LOL u have never watched one of these?
Katsuki: shit, Yagi on me.
Izuku looked to the screen, the camera panned to a wide shot of all the pro alpha fighters and their trainers, and if you knew what to watch for you could see Katsuki looking down between his legs and Yagi whispering into his ear. Katsuki scowled and folded his hands on the table.
The announcer walked up to the podium and spoke into the microphone. “There will be five minutes for questions, please keep them relevant and respectful.”
She stepped away and gave the floor to an alpha that Izuku paid little attention to as his mom and Ochako talked about work. He clued in whenever Katsuki yanked the microphone on his table to make a comment or a joke, those were targeted to alphas that he clearly had a healthy relationship with as they often laughed in return and make fake threats about jumping him later and running off with his belt.
“Bitch.” He hunched over. “Take my belt and I’ll fly all the way to Ireland and beat your ginger ass black and blue.”
“Aye, then we can get a pint right after I beat ye head in,” the Irish alpha joked, smiling wide at Katsuki’s scowl.
Flashes sparked again, the reporters eager for any excuse to get Katsuki in the frame.
“Keep dreaming, Lucky Charms,” he taunted, a damning canine digging a dent on his bottom lip.
More starbursts of white. What a tool, such a pretty tool.
One reporter asked the alpha. “Think we might see that match up anytime soon, Murphy?”
The alpha leaned his beefy arms on the podium. “Once I get to this little cunt’s heavyweight, you bet yer ass I’m going to that title,” he answered, winking playfully at Katsuki.
“Get buff, scrub.”
“Ye small now. A little baby.”
Katsuki raised his fist. “That small, you fuckhead?” Censor bleeped him; no one looked to off-put by it but he was sure Katsuki had developed his reputation as a foul-mouthed alpha early on in his career.
Yagi whipped his head back with thunderous laughter, the entire room had no choice but to share it. It was one of those laughs like a pathogen, contagious and effective.
“Aw, he’s so charming. If I wasn’t married, I would make him my blushing bride.”
The alpha’s five minutes were up and posed once for cameras and took his seat at the table behind Katsuki’s.
Fujimi was called up.
Yagi cupped his hand, talking in Katsuki’s ear. He thought it might have been a preemptive warning for the sharp tongue alpha to keep it tight while Fujimi answered questions but the two analyzed Fujimi’s athletic form under his dusty gray suit.
They were reading the months of training and seeking out the neglected parts. Fujimi looked broader on top, his body showing definition through the blazer.
“Okay, the floor is now open for questions.”
Reporters bolted in urgency, clamoring for Fujimi’s attention.
“Yea, you,” he pointed.
“I would like to ask what spark this feud between you and Bakugou, as it was, you were considering retirement not a long ago. Why postpone that and re-enter the ring after your last match?”
Katsuki crossed his arms with a challenging jut to his chin.
“I don’t like cocky punks. I don’t like this kid throwing his weight where it doesn’t belong. There’s a huge difference between skills and luck. I’m going to show him luck got him this far and bring him back down to the rooks. Eat your shit before you play with the real dogs.”
Katsuki grabbed the microphone. “Question for Fujimi, who the fuck shit in your Frosted Flakes?”
A few chuckles passed around the room until Fujimi glared dangerously.
Murphy had no fear and hammered the table. “Oh Bakugou. On me life, you’ll be the death of me.”
Fujimi clenched his fists. “This guy practically shits on our tradition. He has no respect. And he’s an asshole!”
Several of the fighters commented before Katsuki could add his input.
“Oye, cram it!”
“What fucking tradition, the tradition of beating each other’s skulls?”
“Aren’t you kinda an asshole too?”
“There’s salt in this water! Oh boy!”
“Next question!” Fujimi ordered, snapping his fingers at the reporters.
They tactfully avoided any follow-up questions about his personal opinion on Katsuki, they discussed his confidence about the upcoming match and of course, Fujimi favored himself the winner. Katsuki, surprisingly, didn’t add his two cents about that but he did snicker a few words with the Irish alpha. The rest of the questions asked about his gym in New York, whether or not if he would return to the league permanently after this match.
His mom sipped on red wine, something Ochako and his mom fought him on when he insisted tequila was a bit overkill for a conference and weigh in. “So this is the man Katsuki’s going to fight? He looks old.”
“Fujimi’s in his early 30s, I think,” Ochako said. “He was kinda big talk for a while until he got injured and got time off to recover. You know how it is with athletes, once you drop the hype ball, you can’t get it back.”
“I’m kinda surprised you know that,” Izuku said.
She blushed. “Oh, my dad’s real big on pro alphas so I actually know a lot about them. My mom wasn’t too thrilled with me watching that kind of stuff at the time. Still isn’t, so it's usually me and dad screaming and yelling at the TV while she goes off to her knitting group.”
“So, who is he betting on?” He asked, hoping his smile wasn’t a walking advertisement of Team Bakugou.
He was so awful; a growing fanboy.
“Come on, everyone in town is putting money on Katsuki. I think Minoru is the one guy betting on Fujimi to spite him.”
The announcer called an end to the questions for Fujimi.
“Bakugou,” the announcer motioned for him to take his spot, and Izuku hooted at the screen when he tapped the microphone.
His mom and Ochako eyed him with a smile but made no comment, thank god.
It was a bit of a madhouse as reporters shouted over one another, a fact that had Fujimi scowling hard at the back of Katsuki’s head.
“Chill. How about you.” Katsuki pointed at one reporter.
She read off her Ipad. “Word is you dropped a lot of weight to enter Fujimi’s class, will you be making your return back to heavyweight?”
“That’s the first fucking thing I’m doing after this.”
“Oh! Bakugou. Hello, Jerry from Alpha Weekly, can you give us some insight about your training?”
“Eat twigs and meat. Train like a motherfucker,” he said.
The reporters laughed.
“In Yagi’s book, if you ain’t close to blacking out then you ain’t training hard enough.”
“Bakugou, can you confirm or deny the rumors that you plan to break Yagi’s undefeated streak?” The next reporter asked.
“Plan to? I’m going to break it. Watch.”
One reporter shouted over everyone. “Is that something your coach minds?”
Yagi shook his head in response but let Katsuki answer in his place.
“Fucking Yag’s not a bitter dude. He’s gonna get my ass there.”
The announcer whispered in Katsuki’s ear. He covered the microphone and nodded. “Okay. Time’s almost up. One last question.”
“Bakugou, over here! Many fans were happy to hear you come out as the first openly bisexual pro alpha in your Muscle Man interview. Fans want to know is there someone special in your life at the moment?”
There went his heart—thundering, stampeding, hammering drops like a dubstep track. It took all of him just to look at the screen, at Katsuki’s uncharacteristically blank face, the maybe hint of a blush.
Was there someone?
Did he want it to be him?
If his omega thought of Katsuki as his alpha and mate, did that mean the reserve was true of Katsuki? Was he seeing Izuku like that? Getting twisted and worked by biology?
Was it like legit—these feelings or whatever the hell you called this sensation your omega threw like a curveball?
If your bio guided you to these mates, how much of it was you? Percentage wise; how much did the omega factor and the person allow?
God, he was thinking too much about something that might not come to anything. Right?
He didn’t think to ask.
Like why ask?
Why date the guy who bullied him at one point; yes, Izuku forgave him but he knew others would bring up that old skeleton as evidence that they weren’t a smart match; a guy his omega might just flush out of his system? It happened; sometimes your other half got it wrong that was why there was this balance between you and them.
I like him. Okay?
He liked him! There!
Was it Izuku though, or the omega?
Izuku filled his glass with wine; whoo, boy, that was a can of worm best left for another day. Or month. Why rush.
Katsuki tamed back the look of hesitation. “If there’s someone, I ain’t gonna keep quiet about it.”
“Oohh,” the Irish alpha cooed. “Got us a smitten boy, lads.”
Katsuki turned away, middle finger blurred out.
Izuku downed his glass.
Lord, help his confused heart and brain. You know what, help everything because Izuku was always in a state of mess.
Ochako filled it again.
He looked at her in question.
“Oh. This next part, you’re gonna need it.” Ochako laughed, filling hers next then his mom.
“It’s the weigh-in.”
She quirked one brow suggestively. “You know how people say if you’re going to weigh yourself to take off your clothes.”
“Take off—“ He stilled.
Ochako fell back, laughing.“Now you get it.”
“I get it.” He looked at the TV.
Lord, this was not what he meant but he would take Katsuki in his underwear any day. God bless.
“I’m sorry, but what’s a weigh in?” His mom asked.
“Oh, well each alpha is in a separate fighting class based on their weight. You got light and heavy. An alpha in heavy can’t have a match with someone in light. It’s not a fair fight. Before official fights they have to weigh in to get approval from APL. Katsuki’s heavy and Fujimi’s light. The APL have to see Katsuki meet the weight requirement to face off with Fujimi.”
The commercials cut away. The stage had a scale sitting in the center. Pro after pro stripped down, all sculpted and ripped, and fed angry stares down that the media gobbled up. Fujimi went up next and took off his jacket, scowling at Katsuki.
Katsuki said something that caused him to fume more and popped the buttons of his white button-down with some anger. In his boxers, he stepped on the scale. The announcer read off his weight and the APL’s rep took it down with a nod.
Fujimi stepped off, standing to the side with his thin arms crossed.
Yagi clapped Katsuki, words of assurance as the furrow between Katsuki’s brows disappeared. He must have nerves about not meeting the weight requirement. Understandable, Katsuki put so much effort into his training and the media was already hyped for the face off.
Katsuki grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and eased the fabric off, passing it to one of the staff on stage. The women gushed, folding the jacket with care. Katsuki popped off the buttons, smirking when a few women in the audience hooted.
One, two, three and hello abs.
Then hello to you too, happy trail.
And a bigger hello to the massive bulge in Katsuki’s Calvin Klein boxer briefs.
Katsuki looked big, body wise, thick in his arms and thighs but his stomach was flat and was missing the small pudge he once had at his heavier weight. The V of his pelvis stood out too as did the bones of his hip.
Katsuki stepped on the scale, mean mugging Fujimi.
The APL rep looked at the number and nodded in approval.
“Katsuki Bakugou. 178 pounds. ”
It was official; Katsuki would face off Romero in the pen for the title of champion.
“Did you watch till the end?” Katsuki asked the second Izuku picked up the call.
Izuku chuckled, walking out of the living room with two pairs of eyes watching him curiously.
“You mean did I watch you stroke your ego for millions of people?” He propped his elbows on the kitchen counter. “Yes. Why does it sound really weird, like echo-y, where are you? Wait don’t tell me you’re—“
“Oh my god. Why? Why couldn’t you wait two minutes?”
“Dunno. I can pee with one hand.”
Izuku slapped his cheek, giggling. These were the conversations he had with Katsuki. Pee conversations. So domesticated. “Stop. You’re so gross.”
“Ah! Bakugou, lick my ass!” Another voice moaned.
“Eijirou—get away—I’m trying to pee. Don’t fucking use the one next to mine, ugh.”
“Mmm, my butthole feels like the Great Wall of China. You’re so big!”
Izuku laughed, listening in.
Another voice added to the echo. “Now boys if you’re going to do that, mind saving it for the hotel.”
“Is that Yagi?” Izuku asked.
“Katsuki’s talking to a boy,” Eijirou said to Yagi.
“Ohh,” Yagi fawned
“I fucking hate you two. Deku, Imma call you in a bit. Just hold up.”
Izuku hummed. “Sure. No problem.” The line went dead, Izuku traced his fingers between the grouting on the counter, hearing Ochako and his mother howl with giggles in the living room. Five minutes later, his phone rang.
“Alright. Now it’s just us,” Katsuki said on the other end.
“How long are you staying in Vegas?”
“Not long. We have a flight in the morning to L.A. Yagi’s got some commercial he’s filming for. I got an interview with the ESPN. Then Ultra Alpha has a clothing line they want me to model.”
“Whoa, look at you. Mr. Famous.”
“It’s just a few pictures. I’ll be the only non-model there,” Katsuki said, casually.
He chewed on a grin. “I can tell when you’re bragging.”
“Bragging works if the other person is impressed. Are you impressed, Deku?”
“Impressed that anyone can make your grumpy face pretty,” he teased.
Katsuki barked, the sound tamed by the late night. “Bitch,” he joked. “Mezo and Eijirou get to relax. Dicks.”
“So…When are you coming back?”
Sheets rustled as Katsuki inhaled; Izuku wondered if they were staying in one of those penthouses. “Like in a day or two.”
“Oh no, what will we ever do without Katsuki Bakugou running around in our town?”
“Whatever, shit talker. I know you miss my ass. Fucking admit it, dickhead.”
“Asshole.” He yawned.
“Get some sleep, okay. Wouldn’t want you to look sleepy for your photo shoot.”
“I’m gonna look fucking great, shut up—“ Izuku felt the warm wash of a blush pinched his cheeks as Katsuki yawned again. How was that insanely adorable? “Shit. I’m tired.”
“Sleep, then,” Izuku insisted softly.
“Text me pictures. It’ll be like we’re there together.” Whoa, that came out gay.
Katsuki mumbled sleepily. “Sure. Alright, night for real cause I’m about to pass out.”
Izuku turned with two bottles and bumped into a person, he opened his mouth with an apology.
“Midoriya?” The woman asked, squinting. Izuku tried to place the long jet black hair, the legs that went on and on for centuries, and the pretty cat eyes.
“Nemuri?” He guessed; he hadn’t seen much of her after she graduated a few years before him but he knew she got a job at the bar.
Nemuri threw her arms around him. “Oh my god, I heard you came back. Sorry about missing the party, I had quite the workload. How have you been darling? Wow, You really filled out.”
“Uh. Thank you. I’ve been good. How are you? You still working at…well here?”
“No. I left. I got another job that pays really well, it’s a drive but lucrative.”
“Oh, is it another bar?” Izuku moved out of the way of two guys.
“Nope. I strip at Pussy Kat,” she said, earning a few glances from people. One girl watched Nemuri with unconcealed interest. “I go by ‘Lady Midnight’, you should stop by. I could totally give you a discount on your first lap dance.”
“Think about it! Well it was swell catching up. I got to go, my girlfriend’s waiting on me outside.”
“Girlfriend?” He asked.
Nemuri was never short on guys and admirers. It was a shared dream with the guys in his class to date the high school’s hot chick. Though most of the guys went under her radar, Katsuki didn’t. They dated briefly for a month. Then Nemuri was sauntering in the halls again with another guy. Everyone prodded Katsuki for the juicy details but he gave the same answer each time Hanta and Minoru hounded him, I don’t kiss and tell.
“Oh, yea. So bi, dude.” She laughed, ripping him out of his high school memories. “Can you believe it? She’s a total bombshell though. Blonde hair. Big boobs.” She cooed, digging out her phone and swiped to a picture of her and the girlfriend.
They shared a cute kiss under a tall pine in winter scarves and beanies. Izuku figured she might have gone to their rival school, seeing as he didn’t recognize her and she looked to be about Nemuri’s age range.
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her,” Nemuri smiled at the photo before locking the screen.
“Congrats,” he said, partially happy for her happiness and relieved someone as beautiful as her was taken in her heart and body.
Man, having feels made him a seriously petty person. “Is the stripping thing weird—I’m sorry, that’s totally not my business to ask.”
“Dude I’m a stripper. Guys request weirder things. And it’s not weird for us, we met there actually—“ Her phone went off. Nemuri checked the floating text box. “Shit, I’m a chatterbox. I have to go for real. It was nice seeing you though.” She roped him into a lung-bursting hug.
“Yea. It’s was nice to see you too. Tell your girlfriend I said hi,” he waved at Nemuri’s retreating body.
He went back to his table, sliding a beer to Hitoshi. “Guess who I ran into?”
Hitoshi sipped his drink and went back to his burger. “Who?”
He blinked. “Who?”
“What, come on, you gotta remember her. Every guy was in love with her. I think I was too at one point.”
“At one point,” Hitoshi laughed. “Is that when you figured out—wait, was she that chick who set the chemistry table on fire?”
Izuku snapped his fingers. “There you go.”
“I was so bummed. We couldn’t do our labs.”
“Wow. You really are a nerd,” he teased.
Hitoshi chucked a fry at his face. “Excuse me, but I happened to like learning.”
Izuku ate the fry, laughing with his mouth full at Hitoshi’s appalled face. “Brainiac. Are you sure you’re not an alien? Likes black coffee, the Ghost Whisperer, learning, and hates beanies.”
Hitoshi wiped his hand on a napkin, securing a severe look. “Jennifer Love Hewitt is a precious gem and I will not have you bad mouth her.”
Izuku cringed. “The acting though.”
Hitoshi considered this. “I didn’t say she was a fantastic actress. And beanies are a fashion disaster.”
“I wear beanies.”
“Then I think this between us is over,” he joked. “A beanie. So L.A.”
“I’m wearing a beanie for the whole fall and winter to annoy you.”
Hitoshi reclined back. “Ugh. I’m spent.”
“You barely ate half,” Izuku chided, snatching Hitoshi’s basket of fries.
“I’ll take it to go. That burger gave me high ass cholesterol. I just know it.” He glared at his teeth imprinted burger with a spiteful accusation.
“You’re too young to be talking like that.”
Hitoshi leaned forward on his elbow, watching Izuku dunk an absurd amount of ketchup on the fries. Ketchup smeared the side of Izuku’s mouth. “Hey,” he called. “You got some.”
Izuku stared. “What?”
“Here,” Hitoshi tracked the smudge with his wide thumb and wiped it clean.
“Did you get it?” Izuku put his face forward for Hitoshi to inspect.
Hitoshi pinched his chin, eyes not inspecting the messy accident but eyes seeing Izuku for his beauty and maybe more.
I should stop this, he thought, right?
But what if his omega was off about Katsuki; what if they crashed and burned?
It was awful of him to keep two guys on the line even though he was not explicitly seeing either one. He couldn’t keep himself open to two people. It wasn’t fair to anyone.
I should like you.
You’re a good guy.
You make me laugh.
You call me sweet things by accident.
But where was the—
The flames torching up the city in his body?
Where was his omega?
Where was that greedy, greedy hunger?
Hitoshi kissed him. Quick, rash, and unsure. Like his lips were asking the question his mouth couldn’t—do you want this, me?
Izuku didn’t response under his mouth. His brain told him he should. His heart screamed ‘Katsuki’.
“I’m sorry.” Izuku lowered his head, feeling terrible.
“It’s okay,” Hitoshi assured, kind— he was being so, so kind about it and Izuku didn’t deserve that kindness.
“No. I feel like I misled you and I wasn’t trying to but I did.”
“It sucks but thanks for giving me a shot.”
“I want us to be friends still…I know that’s the last thing you want to hear but if you want then yea. If you would prefer we didn’t talk, I’ll respect that too—“
The activity in the bar halted as the entrance door slammed hard. Eijirou, Hanta, Denki, and Shouto traded glances at the door; all with a similar face of uncertainty.
Izuku sprinted to the beta. “Is Katsuki here?”
Eijirou blinked, genuinely surprised to see him. “Yea. He just left right now.”
look at the time *flees*
TWO more chapters yall, then we done!!
warning: dumb boys being dumb for a minute. enjoy the good feels!
also, i'll try to get to those comments from the last chapter, wow, guys thank you
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Bruh, he looked pissed. I would pass, Izuku,” Hanta cautioned him, seeing Izuku bolt back to his table for his jacket.
“I’m sorry. I…” Izuku gaped at Hitoshi’s puzzled face. “I gotta talk to him.”
Hitoshi grabbed his arm, standing now. “If he gets out of hand, please walk away. Okay?”
“Katsuki’s…He’s not how you think. Look I gotta go.” He slipped on his jacket, gliding fast between the moving bodies that walked through the front door.
“What happened?” Denki asked, squinting at the blur that was Izuku bull rushing the door like his house was on fire.
“You guys are airheaded as fuck,” Shouto said, rolling his eyes at their obliviousness.
Izuku found Katsuki pipping aggressively on a cigarette. The lighter’s flame cut blocks of shadows and orange, red shades as it endured the pre-fall winds. Katsuki cupped the flame, then flicked the silver Zippo lighter closed with a metal snap. He pocketed it and blew out smoke like the Big Bad Wolf, instead of huffing down houses of straws he huffed at what Izuku assumed was the kiss.
Screw feelings, as a personal side note. From one person to another, cause that shit crippled your heart and brain in one sitting like a Big Mac.
Logically, the first words out his mouth should be something like this,” I like you. Maybe way more than like. Haha omega biology, am I right? Also please like me back. And hey, I had these really sexual dreams about you. And sorry about that kiss back there. Um, date me?”
So none of those words were the actual ones he said.
“You’re smoking? Katsuki, you are training for a match. Put that out!” He went for it.
Katsuki evaded; of course, of course, champion pro-alpha. Bullet fast and fist made of freight trains. This was the last place for his thoughts to take that revival of that knowledge and apply it to triple-X rated playtimes.
Katsuki pinched the cig between his fingers, face cold—real cold, ice cold and mean like shark teeth and hurting if you knew how to read him. If you knew what Izuku did. If you could read his body, and the undertones of his gasoline heavy scent.
No, you couldn’t.
Cause you don’t know Katsuki like I do.
“Fuck off,” he barked, glaring away as though he could turn Izuku’s presence off like a light switch if he scowled at the sidewalk hard enough.
Izuku let him have his space and stared at him with great disapproval. Maybe he could parent Katsuki’s bad behavior like his mom. “Seriously, when did you start smoking? I’ve never seen you smoke.”
“You haven’t seen me take a shit but I do it every day.” He flicked off the ash collecting on the tip. Still distant. Still all ice.
“Stop,” he pleaded, hating this—this fucking wall right now. The barrier. It wasn’t real. It didn’t exist in the physics of their world but it was there in the physics of his heart—boxing up Katsuki, a fat old yellow sign with the words NO IZUKU MIDORIYA— and it ached like a prodded wound.
He wanted to cry, okay.
Damn, it was a stupid ass habit of his—crying over the smallest of things—but he couldn’t help it.
Katsuki pushed off the wall, talking with smoke. “I don’t go into your life, Deku, telling you what not to do.”
“You’re mad,” he said, eyes already starting to sting.
“Nah,” he laughed humorlessly. “I’m peachy man. Fucking ace.” He sucked on the cig and waved his arms out to rub it in at how unaffected he was.
“I know how you get, Katsuki. You’ll find any excuse to start a fight.” If he wanted any headway with Katsuki, he would have to be the person to remove the air from his sails and level him out. Buffer out the angry dents with his hands.
He pinched the cigs between his lips. “If you ‘know’,” Katsuki air quoted hostilely, “me so well then you should know when I say ‘fuck off’, I mean it.”
“Katsuki.” His lip quivered. God, he was going to cry. Christ.
Katsuki saw the first tear squeeze out, unbidden, and tossed the cig and stomped out the amber tip. “Fine. I’ll fucking leave.”
Izuku wiped under his eye. “Katsuki, wait.”
Katsuki stormed down the block, talking without looking. “Don’t mind my ass, go back with your boyfriend. Go back to your Instagram date bullshit.”
“Instagram date?” He blinked a few more tears, smearing their tracks as rapidly as they appeared. “We’re just having dinner.”
He stormed at Izuku now, growling the words like projectile venom. “And you’re his dessert, right? A kiss now, a handy later.”
“He kissed me!”
Katsuki paused, probably reimaging the lip-lock in his head because his anger restarted itself. “Well, it looked like you didn’t mind his god damn tongue in your mouth.”
“There was no tongue. He kissed me and I explained to him I wasn’t...” Izuku tugged on the cuff of his jacket and ran the cotton cuff over his cheeks, cleaning up the aftermath of his smeared tears. He looked down at the sidewalk, small in his mind like someone put him under a shrink ray from 'Honey, I Shrunk the Kids'. “…interested. Not like that. Not with him.”
“The fuck you saying?” He asked, less furious at Izuku himself but what his words implied and the bubble of hope it trickled in his gut.
“I dunno.” Izuku shrugged, playing with the unzipped zipper of his jacket.
“You do,” he snipped.
“Well, I’m not gonna say it if you’re going to be snappy about everything,” he argued back.
“Say it,” Katsuki ordered in that very dark and raspy alpha tone most omegas heeled to but Izuku set a stern face back at him.
He understood Katsuki was royally ticked off but he knew the situation now and needed to chill with his anger.
“Stop that, you sound like Harvey Dent from Dark Knight.”
“Izuku,” he said, soft suddenly. Crumbly like sand.
Aw, shit. Abrasive Katsuki, he had plenty of experience with but watery Katsuki with fears, doubts, and insecurities, he had little.
“God.” Izuku carded his hair several times, his wild curls springing back over his eyes every time. “…like don’t you know already? About it?”
“Just spit it out,” he gritted.
“No, you spit it out. You’re the reckless one.”
“I’m not doing shit because I won’t say it,” he said, voice loud with nerves. “I’ll do it and if I do it and I’m wrong then well it stops.”
Katsuki cracked his fingers. “Being there.”
He thought about it—Katsuki across the street with his friends, not acknowledging him, barely gracing him with a fleeting look. His phone log devoid of Katsuki’s name. The message box at the bottom of the list. No free rides in Katsuki’s car with the bass so loud that elderly women shook their canes angrily when they roared past their book club meeting in the courtyard behind the library. Other women and men pressing their bodies into Katsuki, him pressing back. His rumbly, bass-heavy voice in their ears.
“Katsuki,” he said, voice reaching. Reaching, reaching through the gap he was too afraid to bridge physically.
Katsuki lowered his eyes down, white teeth savaging his bottom lip. An action coated with anxiety and jitters. “If I do what I want to do and I’m wrong then, fuck it, I can’t. I can’t play and act like that’s all. Alright?” He shot a look to Izuku. “I can take a beating in the ring but I’m not taking that shit.”
“Maybe you should do what you want,” Izuku suggested.
“Maybe, you should just say it and we’ll both be okay. And maybe I’ll do that shit.”
“Oh my god.” He walked away to groan out his frustration.
Katsuki was so stupid.
He was so stupid.
They were massive, gargantuan idiots who may not be really into each other and who were most definitely mates but too freaking chicken to be the first one to say yes I like your dumb face and your silly personality; I like your shit eating smiles, Katsuki; I like how you always fight; you don’t know how to lie down and be quiet and I admire your strength, sometimes I remembered your stubborn ass attitude and told myself to be like you in the moments when who I was wasn’t strong enough. I like how you steal a room, you donut thief. I like that you look good on my computer when I watch YouTube videos of your match and interviews. I like your douchey laugh that’s also very cute and loud like a rocket; I’ll hear it for hours after like an infectious song. I like that the first thing I do in the morning is checking our text messages and laugh at the jokes.
He shrugged, lumping the responsibility on Izuku. “Hey, you could just say it and save us the trouble.”
“Like this is easy for me? You’re well…you.” He pointed at him in demonstration.
“An asshole.” Katsuki smirked. Fake. All fake. All layered with bitterness and self-loathing and while it sucked to see and hear Katsuki berate himself, it made Izuku happy because he never did that. Wasn’t never that transparent about his feelings. Acted like he was a flat surface with no depth or dimension.
“Stop that, okay? I hate when you talk about yourself like you’re nothing. It hurts to hear you say that because I don’t think that.”
And suddenly silence stretched; a surprise ambush.
“I’m lighting another,” Katsuki said, the sound of the pack of cigs hitting the heel of his hand echoing loud with the dead streets. ”You want one?”
“Why are you smoking?”
Katsuki pocketed the carton and flicked the Zippo lighter out, igniting a flame and lighting the tip. “I’m stressed.” He snapped the top. “These are for stress days.”
“I’ll share.” Izuku held out his hand.
Katsuki inhaled deep, the amber glowing, and passed it.
Izuku took a drag, lungs filling with the heavy smoke. “God, last time I had one of these it was finals.”
“College sounds like a fucking drag.”
“It was sometimes. There were decent days too.”
“Should’ve brought my jacket.” Katsuki shivered, face pinched in annoyance at the invisible winds rushing through the trees. “Fucking chilly. I can literally feel my dick crawl inside my body.”
“You could get…close. To me. Or not?”
Katsuki shuffled, shoulders brushing solidly against his. This was officially the worst confession in the history of confessions—they were confessing, right? Katsuki’s whole spiel was his own anxieties about his feelings for him; that was how Izuku saw it.
Maybe he was wrong.
Maybe he read everything wrong.
He liked him; he wanted Katsuki; why else would his first instinct be running after him instead of staying with Hitoshi. It was his feet that got him from the table to the pavement. Not the omega, who was issuing several formal complaints to management.
Like touching him—could shoulder touching be considered that—had his heart strapped in one of those flight stimulators astronauts took during their rigorous training before braving the emptiness of space. The neck-breaking speed. The sonic boom rotations unhinging his ability to tell up from down and left from right. The bubbles of laughter from the adrenaline, because the speed was one hell of a thrill and it was hard not to be a child in the moment, and then the sickness rumbling low and green in your stomach because you weren’t that young anymore. Your body couldn’t do all the things you once did. But where Izuku would bail and dive his head into a trash bin to hurl, here he wanted in, still. Spraying Cola-Cola and nachos all over himself.
He couldn’t say if they were the real deal or if they would last, but, shit man when was the last time someone scared him so much—made him scare of taking the leap, made him petrify of missing his chance. Who was the last person to drive him mad with frustration and affection; Katsuki could be the biggest fool out there and Izuku would still want to take his big, dumb alpha sized hands and watch them curl over his like ivy running up a wall.
Maybe, Izuku could be stupid this time. A different stupid, mind you. The stupid people called you when you followed that wild dream, when you moved to another country, when you married young, when you signed a car loan.
A risk taker.
Maybe this town wasn’t a home to a part of his life now chaptered away—perhaps it offered a sequel to it; The Jedi Returns.
“Also, for the record, that Harry Met Sally wiping food with his thumb is some straight bullshit. Gay bullshit."
Izuku looked up, chin brushing Katsuki’s shoulder, and soaked up the scowl aimed at some random passerby. The guy flinched and sped walk to the other side of the street. “What?”
“That whole ‘oh you got something on your face’.” Katsuki made a mocking imitation of wiping his thumb in the air and licking the flat pad. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”
He smiled at Katsuki’s transparency, like a sheet of paper dipped in a warm bath. “Maybe he thought it was romantic? I dunno.”
He wrinkled his nose. “That’s gross.”
“What’s romantic to you?”
“The last movie I watched with romance was the Lion King so yea.”
“Can you feel the love—“ Katsuki put his hand over his mouth. Izuku laughed into it and licked his hand.
“What are you—five? Ew, stop licking my hand, Deku.” He recoiled, grimacing at the wet gloss on his hand before swiping it messily down his jeans. “Fucking gross—“
Izuku grinned, bringing his hand up to pipe on the cig. “The most romantic thing I did was swallow.”
“It was a birthday blowjob,” Izuku explained, feeling his face ignite with a searing flush. “Normally I spit,” he added like it did anything to displace the secure mask of horror on Katsuki’s face.
How to confess to your once bully turned friend turned mate/potential boyfriend 101 with Izuku Midoriya; first step, piss him off—if you’ve skipped this step, then go back and make him mad. Second step, refuse to admit your feelings; you have to make him suffer, remember. But don’t really because you would end up in his current situation, which was balancing precariously on a nail thin thread of is it mutual.
Do I just say it like no big deal?
Do I kiss him—wait, what if he freezes up and I ruin everything?
Is it in bad taste to kiss another man after being kissed; would kissing Katsuki make him the rebound kiss?
He kind of barely admitted to himself about his feelings. Izuku didn’t lay any groundwork as to what he would say or when he would take the proverbial leap.
Izuku tapped the cigarette against the wall to ash it. For a rightfully stressful period, he had yet to take more than a few drags. “I-I thought it was sweet.”
Katsuki pried it back, wrapped his lips coolly, and inhaled.
“Bet it tasted sour in the end.” Katsuki smirked with a column of smoke channeling out his nose like a dragon.
He sighed. “I should’ve seen that coming. Wait, wait—don’t!”
“Oh, you saw it coming. You tasted it coming.”
Izuku shoved him, laughing so hard that spit flew out his mouth and he was just the pinnacle of sex appeal. “Shut up!”
Katsuki had the annoying ability to make Izuku ten years old again; the good ten where homework and who had the raddest bike was his biggest concerns. Now he had loans, bills, am I going to die alone with a family of cats; god, am I jerking off too much; I should just adopt a guy, fuck it, I don’t need no man in my life (though it would be mighty nice if you’re listening, J.C.; hint, hint).
“You know what they say about spitters, Deku? They’re quitters. Are you a quitter?” He teased, falling back into place beside Izuku against the wall like metal to a magnet.
He rolled his eyes, fixed the alpha with a dull look. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Katsuki touched his chin.
Izuku stopped breathing; suspended by the touch, a film hit on pause.
Katsuki thought better of it and removed it but Izuku still felt floaty, still in pause.
God, just kiss him.
So Izuku did.
And apparently Katsuki had the same thought just as Izuku because they both swooped in for each other’s mouths and banged their foreheads together. Katsuki stumbled back, rubbing his forehead. “Dude, what the fuck.”
Izuku winced, and whined. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Who the fuck head butts—“
Izuku went in again, determined to exercise himself of his feelings. Because he couldn’t have another night where he had Katsuki’s mouth in his head. Had his body on top. His cock inside. His hands greedy, tough, and gentle. His voice unfiltered. He did his time. He suffered with morning wood and damp bedsheets for months. This Katsuki’s train of feelings and lust and mates and whatever bullshit his omega brought upon his ass without consent needed to stop.
Izuku clipped their teeth together.
“What the fuck are you trying to do?” Katsuki shouted, touching his teeth for any damage.
“What were you doing?” He accused.
“Fucking trying to kiss you!”
“Well, me too. Okay. I’m nervous. I want to kiss you. Like I have these weird dreams about you and like I dunno. You just make me crazy, okay? Like legally insane.”
“You mean this whole fucking time you—? Are you serious right now? Fuck. I didn’t do shit because I figured you wouldn’t want shit to do with me.”
“You wanted to kiss me?”
“Well no shit. And other stuff too. Not just sex stuff, but I mean I’m a guy so I fucking thought about you. I mean all that other rom shit.”
Izuku huffed out a relieved laughed, heart free of the headlock his own doubts pinned him in. “We’re a cliché, you know?”
“Who gives a shit and, uh before I forget, ditto. Lots of dittos back at you.”
“You’re dittoing my dumb speech?”
“Yea. Ditto. Ain’t got no copyright on it.”
Izuku watched his mouth move, hearing his voice muffled by an ocean of longing. He flung the cig, now down to the filter, pressed Katsuki to the wall and barreled forward for his mouth. Katsuki intercepted, seizing his jaw. “Hold the fuck up. I’ll do it.”
He pursed his lips into a sour pout. “I can kiss you without your help.”
“Well, the last two times,” Katsuki began, lifting his spine off the wall.
Izuku set him back against it, batting Katsuki’s hand away and smoothed his hand to the small porcupine spikes at his neck. Applied some pressure there, leading Katsuki down nice and slow; wouldn’t want to bruise this Hollywood face a week before the match.
“The first one was your fault too,” he said, cocking his head to the side.
“If you didn’t move your fat ass head—“
Katsuki’s snippy comment died a fast death once he kissed him, and apparently, Izuku’s whole life up to this point was the decaffeinated version of reality. He thought he knew sounds before, shit; not even. He thought he knew taste; boy was he so wrong. And smells? What the hell; pines smelled minter; the grease and sizzling grill from the pub wafted up his nose. He could count each thread that went into the making of Katsuki’s shirt.
“There.” Izuku pulled back with electricity dancing sensations on his lips. “We kissed. No causalities. What’s with that look?” The alpha looked back with a blank expression, amber eyes not really seeing Izuku.
Katsuki moved into him like a tidal wave, hands dangerous and gluttonous on his face and hair, mouth pressing and slipping against his with a hint of tongue. And if he saw technicolor with the first kiss, the world was a blazing neon sign with the second.
Katsuki flipped positions and crowded Izuku into the wall, a fist in his hair as though he couldn’t decide to ball it up between his fingers or drag it. His other hand slid along his jaw and his thumb caressed the space from mouth to his cheek.
There was a familiarity. The way they kissed it lacked the blind lust and hunger of a first kiss, though he would assure you that he was plenty aroused being pinned and ravished. You didn’t get kissed by Katsuki Bakugou and experience it passively with a chill philosophy of oh, cool a kiss. No. It. Was. An experience. A wet one. A hot one. One with violent desire—Katsuki would be the guy to make out with you like he was punching the ever-loving crap out of you via spit roast—, with a fire red tongue that could legitimately singe your mouth with third-degree burns, with voluminous lust.
So, double check on the absurd levels of sex vibes. Gold stars.
Here was your B.S., Katsuki Bakugou, awarded from the University of holy shit you can maul my face at any time. High honors, too.
But certain touches translated experience. The thumb whispering over his skin. The hand fisting then carding through his hair. That languid, seductive break between their kisses where Katsuki let him breathe like a normal person and brushed their lips together slow and easy like their mouths operated the progress of time. That they could pause, rewind, and fast forward the world around them.
“Whooo! Get some Bakugou!” Mei leaned out the car window of a speeding Honda with a beer, thankfully not the one behind the wheel.
They broke apart, mouths and the skin around it a harsh and obvious red.
“So…” Katsuki coughed, wiggling a finger. “This shit is something.”
“Aw, your way with words.” Izuku teased him, taking Katsuki’s hand in his own. Holy Batman the feeling was spectacular. That hand, he could take it now. This hand belonged to him, right?
He loved this oversized, calloused, and nail-bitten hand.
“Okay. Gonna say it. It’s pretty fucking sweet. Right?”
Izuku peeked up, distracted by how Katsuki’s hand engulfed his. “Yea. Fucking sweet.”
“I’m gonna make you an awful person, Deku. Jesus won’t want you when I’m done.”
“That works for me cause I’m kinda coo-coo for this guy. I mean he’s like a major asshole, wow boy, major. Like if there was an asshole class—haha. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! No! I’ll be good. Police, help, this man is tickling me against my will. Police.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki roared, laughing out the order. “Stay still you little shit.”
“Police, haha. Alright, he’s darn cute too.”
Katsuki bent, cupped his ear and motioned impatiently for Izuku to speak up. “I’m sorry, did you say he was the sexiest man alive and that his cock is mucho supreme?”
“Mucho supreme?” Izuku tongued the corner of his mouth. It did his ego plenty good to watch Katsuki’s smirk dwindled as he stared at his lips. Izuku just discovered The One Ring level of power over Katsuki. “Sorry, that’s Shouto. Oh my god, kidding.” He hopped back from the alpha’s fingers tracking the sensitive points of his ribcage.
“Look, we don’t speak about the Mothman that is Shouto’s dick.”
“I thought it was his leg.”
“I’m pretty sure I developed a complex because of it.”
Izuku stuck out his bottom lip in a mockery of a pout. “Poor, baby.”
“Mocking me, huh? I’ll take my sexy ass somewhere else.” He turned his back to him and took slow, baby steps down the block.
“No. ” Izuku linked their hands, dragging a very willing Katsuki back to him. ” Keep it here. With me.”
“Gay.” Coming from the guy who was holding Izuku as though he was the kill switch on a bomb and entangling their fingers in a tricky web of knuckles, he didn’t take that comment seriously.
“So we’re?” DTR, right? Izuku wanted the stamp issuing This Is My Boo trademark.
“We are officially the hottest motherfuckers in this town. Had to get the best.”
“You’re very sweet,” he said. Of course, Katsuki wouldn’t act like the Ryan Gosling of romance and relationship, no knee drop, no sonnets about Izuku and his likeness to roses or the moon. It was custom. An only Katsuki type of sweet talk.
Hot with a blush, Katsuki scowled. “I changed my mind. You are butt ugly.”
“Yup. What a buttface.”
Izuku giggled for a minute and adjusted the smile into a gasp of astonishment. “I am?”
Katsuki’s lazy smirk dropped. “Hey, fly with me,” he said, voice uncharacteristically devoid of his cocksure drawl.
“Fucking go with me to Vegas. I leave in a week.”
He stared for a full minute, expecting the back button but Katsuki did no backtracking, well he became increasingly anxious under Izuku’s mute expression. “I don’t have the money for that.”
“I’ll pay. Tickets. Room. Food. Whatever you want. Just go.”
He was…Katsuki was serious. He wanted him there, in that part of his life, the part with cameras and fans and the world watching them both.
“This is crazy,” he breathed, scared at not only the prospect of the entire world viewing him and Katsuki in this new light but of how much he wanted it too.
In real life, in the laws of the normal world, you applied the brakes here. This logic worked in movies, in TV shows, in books, in video games—the reckless abandon of now let’s stop and think about how this might not be um smart.
You know, too fast. We just said yup, I like you too, and we’re jumping the ship on a couples trip to Las Vegas, the least romantic city in the States. You went there when you were bored with your mundane marriage and 9-5 job. Or you eloped with your teenage love. You certainly didn’t invite your tentatively new boyfriend there.
“Hell yeah, it is.”
“What are we?”
I know I like your face and you like mine but I’m also insecure about dating and you’re a celeb while I’m some average Joe.
“I dunno. But I pretty much hated it when you’re not there to annoy me so that’s what we are. Just kinda stick together.”
Best way to describe your new relationship with your future mate, compare it to the shit eight-year-old chewed under their teeth obsessively then hacked out with saliva to the horrid valley of the dark side of the school’s desk.
“I mean, I get it. It’s fucking out of the blue and we hang out but we would be together all day. I’ll probably be on asshole patrol—“
“Lemme talk to my work. I’ll try to use my vacation days.”
Katsuki blinked, a wee bit apprehensive Izuku might retract his words. “For real?”
“Screw it. Let’s go. I wanna see Vegas. I don’t have to pay and I get to be with you. What more could I ask for?”
“A lot,” he said. “You could get a lot more.”
“Don’t blow all your money on me,” he warned.
“Deku, Imma treat you up. You gonna see how alpha pros do Vegas.”
“Oh my god. Stop.” He lowered his head, embarrassed by the rush of attention.
“Sorry, again,” Katsuki mumbled. He meant for screaming, for being hurt. Izuku felt undeserving of the apology.
Izuku took a few steps and fell into Katsuki’s chest. Laid there, unbelievably comfortable and content from Katsuki’s scent, his strength, and the booming beat of his heart under his bones. “Me too.”
“I fucked up your dinner.”
“I ruined your guy’s night so we’re even.”
Katsuki traced the dip of his spine. “You can go back,” the alpha said, yet his body language was speaking in contradiction to that with a grip locking Izuku to him.
“I feel like watching some TV. With company. Maybe you, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. It sounded better in my head.”
“You want me to watch TV with you?”
Izuku inspected Katsuki’s shirt. “Yea.”
“Like a date?”
“Lame,” he snorted.
“I’m fucking with you.” Katsuki released him, then dug into his pockets. “Lemme text Shouto and we’ll go.”
“Yea. I should probably text Hitoshi—that I’m leaving,” he laughed, clarifying hastily to the alpha who switch from docile and relaxed to I’m going to curb stomp you to the Earth’s core. It should terrify him because it was a clear sign of a possessive alpha. But you see, it was weirdly hot and sweet and Izuku was so awful for liking the jealous nature in Katsuki.
“Wow. You went to a hundred so fast.”
Katsuki grumbled. Insecure, god, he was a big old alpha with more money and fame to his name than any else of this town and yet he felt threatened. “He kissed you so I have a very good excuse to punch him.”
Izuku hugged him. “Please don’t.”
“Well, he better watch out or…” A smirk pulled on one of the corners of Katsuki’s mouth.
“Don’t,” he whined, that tone could spell only trouble.
“He’s gonna catch my fists.”
“You’re…really cute right now and that’s very bad because you threatened one of my friends. Stop looking so damn smug. Bad alpha.”
“You called me cute. Holy shit.”
“Don’t tease me.” He ducked his head.
“You got good taste.”
Izuku dragged a hand down his face. “Lord.”
“I got better taste though,” he flirted.
“Oh my god.” Make that two hands and add in a wicked hot blush that should cook him to well done.
“Fucking hell, you’re really red right now. Are you okay?”
“I need a minute.” Izuku fanned his face. “Wow. You just. Wow. Um. Thank you and, oh boy, same to you good sir.”
“I kinda want to hug you and fuck you at the same time.”
“Oh boy.” He fanned aggressively.
“This is too fucking funny.”
They sneaked up to his bedroom and arranged the pillows to make a comfortable wall between his actual wall, and kicked their shoes off while Izuku booted up his laptop and logged in to his Netflix account. His mom snored on the sofa in the living room with a quilted blanket and their old overweight cat, who was slept his entire life away.
Neither had the heart to wake her or suffer her probing questions about why Katsuki was in their house at three a.m.
They binged old superhero movies like the cool guys they were and snickered at the dated CGI, the obvious props and stunt doubles, and the cringe-worthy lines that sprouted a piggish snort from Katsuki, who had to actually get off the bed and walk it off.
He came back, out of breath and adorably red in the face.
“You better now?”
Katsuki sniffed. “Yup.”
Izuku saw the lie in his eyes. “You’re not gonna laugh, are you?”
Katsuki sucked on his lips and shook his head.
“Why aren’t you talking? Talk.”
He shook his head.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Katsuki, silent. I never thought the day would come.”
Katsuki pushed him and Izuku rolled off the bed laughing.
“Holy…fuck. Hey you okay?” Katsuki asked from the bed.
Izuku winced on the floor. “I totally forgot I was on the edge.”
“Carry me?” Izuku held out his arms.
“What, you fucking lazy?”
“Yes. I am.”
Katsuki got off, putting up an overacted front as though he was extremely inconvenienced by Izuku’s ways. It took one yank on his arm and then he was off the ground and in Katsuki’s big arms. “Whoa,” he said, body reeling hard from the vertigo. “You’re so strong.”
“You weigh as much as a box of donuts.”
“Hey, I got some muscle.” Izuku rolled his sleeve and flexed. “See? Impress?”
Katsuki shifted Izuku in his arms to readjust the weight and pinched the very admirable and we can’t all be gym rats alphas with testosterone and sex dripping out our pores, Katsuki swell of muscle. “How cute, it’s like a baby bicep.”
“You’re a jerk.”
“Now you wanna see a real fuckin’ bicep,” Katsuki helped Izuku to the ground, standing, and flexed. “Look at that bad boy. Fuckin’ champ.”
Izuku balled the collar of his shirt and brought Katsuki into a kiss without clashing foreheads or cracking teeth. There was some teeth but it was with intention and digging so, so sensually on Izuku’s lower lip that his knees might melt down on the spot.
Katsuki breathed loudly out his nose, caging the sides of Izuku’s face as he walked him back to the bed.
“Are you ‘chilling me’?” Izuku whispered on his back as Katsuki moved to his side and went back to kissing him.
“You’re always bringing up memes in bed,” he complained, then tried to work back in some sexual energy into the kiss by mouthing soft and dangerous on Izuku’s weak points.
“What?” Izuku asked, tapping Katsuki away from the distracting circles he was making with his tongue.
Katsuki paled. “Nothing.”
“You said ‘in bed’,” he said, suspicious.
“I meant like in life. Not in bed. Because we’re in bed now. Not before.”
It would be creepy to mention the awfully vivid and lucid sex dreams just hours after becoming boyfriends, right? That seemed like a Saturday topic.
Izuku let it slide only because Katsuki started sliding his hand over his leg and up his chest. Over the clothes! His mom was asleep after all and two floors away.
“God,” Izuku breathed when Katsuki nibbled delicately on his neck. Fuck, it was going to be a nightmare to keep his dick in his pants.
“Hell yea.” Katsuki chuckled, the sound supremely dirty, gritty, and hot; and Izuku should’ve had the foresight to know Katsuki would be the guy with a sex laugh. “Call me ‘God’.”
“Ah,” Izuku’s toes curled in the sheets. “I’ll make you.”
“Oh?” Katsuki blew a wet breath over the patch of skin warming pink with his teeth marks. “How would you do that?”
Oh, there was an infinite number of ways. So, so many. But they bordered explicit and lots of tongues and mouths in naughty places. Izuku knew some PG tricks to get the alpha to coo.
Izuku shifted on his elbows, pushing Katsuki on his back, and angled his jaw. He kissed him, working his mouth wide and greedy, and dipped his tongue in. Katsuki cupped the back of his head, deepening the kiss with a noisy groan as Izuku inelegantly fucked his mouth.
He popped back, snatching Katsuki’s bottom lip between his teeth. He let it go with a slick pop.
“God.” Katsuki closed his eyes. “Damn.”
Katsuki opened his eyes, the amber almost a deep burgundy from the dark room. “Oh fuck yea.” He grabbed Izuku by his elbows so his torso was sitting on his wide chest. He puckered his mouth. “Gimme some more of that good shit, Deku.”
“Shut up and give me that mouth.”
They made out, hard as stones, with Netflix streaming through the suggested movies until the dark sky warmed with shades of lavender and orange and his lips were numb and bruised to a red plump. He blinked, exhausted, trying to stay awake and take in Katsuki’s sleepy face. Sleep won out. His head found a comfy place on the alpha’s chest.
“So a yes for Vegas?” Katsuki asked, standing in the doorway.
“A soft maybe. I think I can lie to my boss and say a friend is having a baby shower or something.”
“Tell him your man is the champion.”
Izuku’s heart somersaulted off a cliff. His man. Lord. “He’ll definitely say no if he knows I’m blowing off a week to have fun.”
“Make a good lie.” Katsuki leaned forward and kissed him.
Izuku marveled that his fried and overworked mouth could feel it after their aggressive make out shift, and that it was better than the one before it. Sweet. Warm. Sexy. A lot of desire and a lot of emotion unspoken but skimming the surface.
“I will.” They parted. Instantly, his lips missed Katsuki’s. “Now shoo you.” He gave the alpha’s shoulder a light press, not really willing to part so soon as he had yet to map all of him with his tongue. The dreams were cool and all but reality won out and real Katsuki was so much sweeter, harder, and larger here. Unfortunately, Katsuki was a busy man and he would have to learn how to savor the time he did get with him. “Yagi will be mad if you’re late for training.”
“Fuck.” Katsuki scrubbed his hair, remembering. “It’s gonna be a bitch. I didn’t sleep.”
“I told you but you wanted to make out.”
“I could bail,” Katsuki suggested with a throaty hum, bringing Izuku into another kiss.
“No, no,” Izuku said, mouth still gliding over Katsuki’s, a little greed and hunger turning the languid morning kiss into a steamy one. “You gotta go to work.”
“Later?” He hummed, arms bracketed snuggly around his hips.
“Hmm, I’ll see if I could pencil you in. You see, I too am very busy with Hollywood. I’m talking to Beyonce about a music video.”
“Is it a sexy one?”
“Sorry but Bey would kill me if I leaked the details.”
Izuku: So I might be dating Katsuki.
Ochako: OMFG [fainting gif]
Tenya: Katsuki Bakugou?
Tenya: So if we ever wanted tickets to the match?? We could get them at a discount?
Ochako: okay, confirm or deny, was that padding??
Tenya: Not that I’m saying we want tickets or anything but your gift for our wedding was a blender, so…
Izuku: who knows
Ochako: omg, omg, omg.
Izuku: he’s taking me to Vegas
Ochako: ur going Vegas. I hate u, I hate u.
Ochako: BTW if u see Chris Evans, tell him I’m team cap
“Oh my god, these seats,” Izuku gushed, fawning over the cream leather and the wide berth of space to stretch his legs. “And there’s so much space too.”
He extended his legs for the hell of it. His previous experience on a plane had him squished between one greasy guy, who breathed heavily out his mouth, and a mother with her three-year-old.
“Yea. Just first class” Katsuki shrugged, drinking water. “No biggie.”
Izuku leaned back, inhaling deep. He grabbed Katsuki’s hand. “Thank you. This is really cool.”
“Aw, do I hear romance blooming behind me?”
“Fuck off.” Katsuki kicked the back of Eijirou’s seat.
“Dude, I’m telling. Yagi.”
Yagi snored, wrapped up in a blanket with an eye mask to block out the light.
Katsuki turned back into the leather seat. “He’s such an old man.”
“Whatever, you always pass out on the flight,” Eijirou said.
Katsuki glared at the red spike of head protruding from the top of the seat. “Cause I’m training for seven hours, dickhead. What are you doing, uploading selfies on Instagram?”
The flight attendant clicked down the aisle, the guys lowered their voices until she walked through the threshold partitioned between first and coach. Eijirou peeked his head over the seat. “You get mad but you’re always commenting on my pictures. I know you love my selfies. We should take one together.”
Eijirou slouched down. “He’s such a sourpuss.”
“Fuck you.” Katsuki jostled his seat again.
Yagi snorted a startling snore, head lolling to the side, and said with a slumber thick voice. “Behave, Bakugou.”
Thirty minutes into their flight, Katsuki dozed off. Izuku called one attendant and asked for a blanket and pillow. He smoothed Katsuki’s forearm.
He blinked. “Wha?”
Izuku wordlessly lifted his head to sit the pillow behind it and threw the blanket over his body.
“Sorry.” Katsuki tried to keep his eyes open.
Izuku tucked him in, wanting Katsuki warm and comfortable. “It’s okay. You’ve been training a lot. Sleep.”
Eijirou looked over the seat. “Aw.”
“Jesus,” Izuku laid his palm on his chest. “You scared the hell outta me.”
“My bad. Wanna watch a movie with me? My seat’s empty so they shouldn’t bitch.”
“Sure,” Izuku said, rising up gingerly so he didn’t interrupt Katsuki’s nap.
Eijirou passed him a set of headphones. “Here. What ya feeling?”
“The new spiderman?”
“Okay.” He nodded, popping in the earbud.
While the movie crawled through the opening scenes, Eijirou said. “You know, Yagi met Iron Man.”
He gaped at him with disbelief. “Shut up.”
“My hand to god,” he swore.
“That’s freaking awesome.”
“Yea. He got a photo with him and framed it. It’s in the living room. Katsuki met a lot of famous people too. Mayweather. J-Law. Rhianna. Ben Affleck. Pacino. Derrick Rose.”
“Holy crap. What about you?”
Eijirou looked down at his hand, thinking. “Uh. I met Anna Hathaway. She’s like insanely pretty in person. Like her eyes suck me in.”
“Do you mind Katsuki being you know?”
“The attention whore?” He laughed, understanding Izuku’s unfinished question. Right after Yagi, Katsuki garnered quite the media attention and sponsorships. “Nah. I have a decent fanbase, good dough, and a bit of fame. Like for Yagi and Katsuki, they can handle all of the media and shit and the flying back and forth and the interviews. Me, not so much. Plus, people go mucho loco for alphas. Betas don’t really need all the lights and glamour.”
“Are you cool with it? The rabid fans?”
Izuku seesaw his hand in a so-so motion. “It’s a little overwhelming when I think about it. There’s like, what, how many other people kinda in love with him right now. And unless I really go through the comments on his stuff, then I’m not too bothered by it. I know he said a lot of people messaged him too but he told me he ignored them unless they were fans who wanted to talk and not hook up.”
And in the safety of their hometown, Izuku didn’t have the fear or the prickling jealousy from interested viewers. No more than the average person but a heavy city like Vegas was a new playing field. Katsuki’s face decorated billboards. Ads ran in between shows. ESPN and other sports shows discussed the possible outcomes and who favored who in the matchup and Katsuki’s abrupt drop from heavyweight to light. They wouldn’t be Katsuki and Izuku, two kids who went to U.A. High School, whose parents raised them within the close-knit community; they would Katsuki, the pro alpha, and Izuku, his boyfriend, and omega.
Katsuki warned him of all the pitfalls of making their relationship open to the public and whether if Izuku wanted it private. The rogue in him wouldn’t let it sit to have people think Katsuki was a bachelor and free to their advances. He wanted the world to know the alpha had a home and a partner waiting for him at the end of the day. Though, he had devised a plan to stay off the internet for the time being once they landed in Vegas. He might be okay to being public but that didn’t mean he wanted to read any articles or posts about himself. Knowing the internet, one person out there would see Izuku unfit and wrong for Katsuki.
“You’ll be good,” Eijirou assured, who read the internal distress Izuku was experiencing for the fifth time this day. “Katsuki will beat the shit out of anyone that disses you.”
“There’s gonna be one person who will say Katsuki could do better.”
“Don’t let KitKat hear that or he’ll get real mad. He’s,” Eijirou paused, chanced a look back at Katsuki, who was cutely cocooned in the airline’s sheets. “He’s very legit about you, so, yea. He doesn’t bring people with him to stuff like this.”
Izuku bit his lip, watching the screen instead of Eijirou, and remembered Katsuki’s loud excitement when he told him he could make the trip, the countdown texts Katsuki sent him leading up to it, all the places Katsuki planned to show him in the downtime between interviews and appearances, his annoyance when Izuku insisted once more that he didn’t need a room in a penthouse or dinner in the Stratosphere.
If he had any doubt, which he did because Izuku worried and overthought everything in his life, they’re quiet now. Maybe without the bond, they wouldn’t be a thing; who knew. Izuku did know that of all the guys he’d dated that Katsuki drove him insane with well everything. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited to talk to a guy, to do the most mundane crap out there, to have raving butterflies with glow sticks and a heavy bass live it up in his stomach.
“What the fuck?” Katsuki grumbled. “Deku?”
Izuku turned in the seat, seeing Katsuki blink at the empty spot. “Right here.”
Eijirou popped up next to him. “We’re watching Spiderman, KitKat.”
“You left me,” Katsuki said, somber.
“Shut up. I’m right here, you doofus.”
So I kinda sorta had no CONTROL on the final chapter. Like NONE. It's about 20,000 words, 50 pages or more, cause fuck editing me let that girl suffer. This is a forewarning to you guys in case you want try marathoning that beast before bed. But Gravity is officially completed so I will be working on new projects or returning to some old ones (yes, i know, yall dying for K-9 part two.) I got some ideas for mult chap fics and one shots so stick around, maybe, no pressure, lol.
Thanks for the support, everyone.
His eyes moved over his face, taking everything in. “Maybe we’re not so fucking stupid after all.”
“You are,” he said, because this jerk was making Izuku believe in a lot of silly things he labeled as fabricated lies produced by the media, by the movie industry, by novels and love songs. True mates and love at first sight were make believe like dragons and fast internet…right? “Big old, stupid donut dork.”
warning: uh, excess fluff and cheese cuz these boys are IN LOVE
songs in this chapter for maximum cotton candy fluff:
- "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone
- "Hooked on a Feeling" by Blue Swede
- "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" by Frankie Vallie (save this baby for the end!)
and uh, thanks for the ride.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
They disembarked. Yagi, Mezo, and Eijirou walked ahead of them down the hall. Other travelers brushed their shoulders, some catching recognition when they lazily glanced at the bodies near them. Two beautiful women gushed, sneaked back sultry looks that promised a night of fun and sin and every man’s wildest fantasies. This impulsive, hideous thought nipped at him automatically, disembarking alongside him, how do I fit next to these people?
I’m not a stud.
No one knows my name
My face stampeded my mother’s photo album and nothing more.
How do I keep up with you?
How do we work?
How can I fit in your world, the one outside of our hometown?
How do I navigate the planets without a spaceship?
Fingers took his wrist, took his hand—kept taking, and taking like a vacuum.
The voice of doubt, is this me, is this me? Where does Izuku end and the omega begin? Where does Katsuki stop and the alpha start? Where are the guidelines because I’m very lost right now?
Insecurities; look at those women, those men, with— Gucci handbags, David Beckham perfume, genuine Italian leather on their shoes, Rolex’s gold on point, heels that dared the stars, glittering diamonds on fingers and necks, teeth stainless designer dresses like bodysuits, tailors suits with a name on the tag, groomed, polished, the white case at Tiffany’s, strutting through the world like there’s gold underneath, zero percent body fat, Instagram followers up to the hundreds of thousands, riding yachts, taking private jets, in Ferrais. And I’m— and I’m lucky to get a comment on a Facebook post. These pants from Target, this watch from a thrift shop, my teeth yellowing slightly from all those expressos. They’re in the major league and I’m still in the junior. How can I match up?
The mess of his breathing, the crazy and erratic pitter-patter of his heart, the noise of anxiety stuffed like cotton balls in his ears, and settled it.
Left Izuku with:
Solid ground. Hey there, friend, when did I start floating away? I see the tunnel now, there’s light at the end; how did it get so dark a minute ago?
Perspective. Whoa it’s just us in this hall; where did those women slink off to? Why are your eyes on me? It used to be so different. You and me, two kids with heavy loads and no one to tell them what’s a positive outlet. I smiled. You raged. Now, we’re adults with heavier loads because age didn’t diminish demons but outlined them—see the failures unseen by kids and teens—but we’re wiser too. Open. Less clouded by impulsive emotions. More of that; third eye crap. Seeing beyond. Understanding more. I’m getting you, slowly. You’re getting me. I’m seeing what I couldn’t before. Is it good, what’s on your side of the mirror, the things you’re seeing of me?
Warmth. A slow working warmth navigating his bloodstream, taking his normal body temperature and skyrocketing it.
A critic to the doubts.
A shield to the insecurities.
Izuku had limited experiences with bonds, mates, the whole shebang— his father said bon voyage to his mother after trying for a year to rekindle the flame and the friends he made in L.A. suffered through broken ones, breezed through others, or vowed off bonds altogether. So personally, the response gave him one hell of whiplash.
Bonds worked in stages: infatuation, affection, lust, and then an almost telepathic/physic bond; and the final stage occasionally happened to some mates. There were mates who went their entire marriage without it happy as a peach. Other encountered it so fast and viscerally their lives were more hindered by it than enhanced.
He felt Katsuki’s sorrow back at the lake— that hard hurt like glass in your mouth— and were it not for Katsuki physical body and the hand connecting them, Izuku could mistake it for something belonging in him.
Before that, he was keenly intuned to his anger which he attributed to Katsuki’s strong alpha blood overwhelming everyone’s senses.
The most they shared physically was kisses and dry humps.
So when the hell did they skip all those steps?
Should this be a taken as some omen, if we break up then it’s going to hurt me, or a blessing, I’m not crazy to care about him? We’re not crazy, thank god I’m not a fool to be taking your hand on this journey, because you know, people are thinking it.
Izuku and Katsuki? Oh, boy.
God, it blew to be an omega. To balance the person out amid the primal state.
Katsuki pinched his nose; mouth crooked in a grouchy frown. He might have been talking, but Izuku was getting lost in him and these newly discovered experiences.
Izuku squirmed. “Hey,” he said, nasally, rubbing his nose now freed from Katsuki’s stupidly large alpha fingers.
Katsuki scowled, unconvinced, voice no more alive than the dead zombies on AMC. “You’re mumbling,” he mumbled.
Izuku didn’t call him out on his mumbling for the sole reason that his mother raised Izuku to keep his mouth shut when he had nothing good to say—which was more of a suggestion now in his adult years, like the handbook given to you at the start of your employment—and for the fact Katsuki did train hard days before the flight, walking back to his house like a zombie and blind to the thousand watt smile on his mom's face when he grabbed Izuku and tried to scale him like he could hide within Izuku if he pressed his face hard enough into his collarbones. Photos were taken. Evidence filed in his mother’s album, it would make a disastrous reappearance at Thanksgiving or Christmas when his mom decided she neglected the job of humiliating Izuku.
Also, on the record about the charges of mumbling against him:
It couldn’t be right because he was very deep in a mental breakdown mere seconds ago so, bull. Lies. Fake news. Alternative facts.
“What? I’m not,” he denied. Might have countered it with the truth, but the truth was a whopper of emotions.
Katsuki tapped his temple. “Up here you are. So shut that shit up, nerd.”
He literally broadcasted his anxiety attack on their first trip as a couple to Vegas, crap in a picnic basket. Izuku was almost too nervous to ask. “Did you hear it?”
“No?” Katsuki scrunched his nose, eyes rolled upward in search of a way to describe it. “It’s just loud.”
“Yea. You smell loud. Like spoiled eggs but not like spoiled eggs. You get me?”
Well, that was nice to know Katsuki— his mate if the facts were correct according to his omega, who he would not trust given how enormous of a hoe he was—thought Izuku smelled like spoiled eggs. Very nice. Maybe he should drop the tidbit that Katsuki smelled like someone left the stovetop on for hours in an empty house.
“I smell like eggs?” He asked, voice pitched in horror.
“No,” he huffed. “It’s loud like eggs.”
“I’m an egg,” he gasped, deliberately.
Katsuki’s honey red eyes narrowed in suspicion. Slowly, he nodded, coming to the fact late that Izuku was teasing him. “I know when you’re fucking with me.”
“Alright, alright. I can’t help it. You’re too easy.”
Too much of Katsuki.
Too much of wow, my hands gotta learn him and my heart gotta know him.
“Bitch, I’m not…Fine, I’m kinda easy,” he admitted, then stressed out, “kinda,” with a hinting expression. A very dark hint, and Izuku had an idea they were no longer referencing Katsuki’s easy rise to anger but the easy ride to his pants.
Somehow his face, his smile, his words, his teeth baited more than arousal. Baited out fuzz. Playdough. Kinetic Sand. Izuku’s body had become these soft things.
Lord, have some damn mercy on his soul. No person alive should be able to accomplish so much with so little effort.
“You smell like gas,” Izuku said, face warm, body warmer, and groin…yea; and ew right in the airport, omegas lived with a world devoid of shame or decency.
Any sexual intimacy flatlined. “Hold the fuck up, I smell like farts? That’s gross as hell.”
Izuku laughed, leaned on the wall for support because the absurd speed from sex icon Katsuki to dork Katsuki, who made fart noises with his armpit during their Christmas recital, was spectacular and probably faster than the speed of light.
“No, no,” he giggled so violently, spit dribbled down his chin. “Haha. Oh my god.”
“Screw you. You smell like…” He struggled, mouth parted with abortive sounds.
Izuku impulsively remembered Katsuki in the fourth grade where their teacher had each student read their book report out loud; Katsuki managed to convince her that his ‘dog’ ate his homework and barfed out a surprisingly well-constructed report. A feat only accomplished after he ran to the bathroom when he experienced a bout of stage anxiety where he bleated out like a goat for thirty seconds.
“Not that fucking great either.”
Man, who knew that little, cunning, adorable jerk would be here, treating him to an all paid vacation in Vegas with a side of feelings and naughty groping.
Izuku recovered, briefly, and wheezed with tears in his eyes. “N-no.” his breaths hiccupped. “Like gas.”
“Stop calling me gas,” he barked, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
“No. Kat—haha, Katsuki. Like gasoline.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say that?”
“I did, gas alpha.”
He threatened, not unkindly. If anything, it was flirty and suggestive. “If you weren’t my man, I would destroy you.”
Izuku sucked on his lip, cocking his head as he asked, “What do I smell like?”
“You smell like Mothman,” Katsuki snorted.
“I thought he was fake,” Izuku hummed, confidently.
“Fine, you smell like Neito’s gym socks.”
He gasped. “You’re so mean.”
“You just told me I smelled like a lighter.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Besides the fact lighter fluid doesn’t smell sexy?”
“I mean, I thought its cause you’re hot—,” And Katsuki demonstrated no sense of humility at that, smirking proud and obnoxious; Izuku sighed. “And no, not like that—wait. Okay. A little but like hot inside.”
Katsuki teethed his bottom lip with one canine and tongued the tooth next; the light in the hall seemed to think it was very important to highlight the gloss of spit left behind. “Deku,” he chuckled, low like a secret. “Are you trying to get at my ass because that’s a fucking open invitation. Get at whatever. You’re VIP at the Baku Club.”
“KitKat,” Izuku sighed, the nickname blurting without thought. He squeaked in surprise.
“Oh no you don’t,” Katsuki cursed, the fire in his voice muted out by the brilliant blush of pink on his cheeks. “I’m not having you and jackass call me that. You know he shouts at that matches. Jay-Z asked me why Eijirou was yelling that and if he wanted a Kit-Kat from the store.“
Izuku muffled a giggled. “Aw.”
“No,” Katsuki snapped, trying to intimidate Izuku from laughing but it made him laugh louder. “No ‘aw’. Jay-Z thinks Eijirou has a Kit-Kat fetish.”
“It’s cute though. When I see KitKats I think of your silly face.”
“Silly?” He scoffed, overdramatic. “Bitch, you mean perfect.”
“A perfect KitKat,” Izuku teased, mind filling with understanding at Katsuki’s previous statement cause he was loud inside at Katsuki’s agonized groan.
“God, don’t call me that.” He tipped his head back, blonde bangs flopping with. “And keep the noise in here on mute. You’re good, okay, so shut up.”
“Hey,” Eijirou wandered back. “Got a few paparazzi’s waiting on ya out there.”
Izuku tensed up.
Crap, he didn’t think he would have to deal with them until the night of the match. He forgot that outside their hometown, Katsuki had a celebrity status and plenty of appearances publicly to make his face recognizable. It made sense for people to linger around the airport for a glimpse or an interview.
And how long would it be before the photo of him and Katsuki leaving the airport hand in hand surfaced on Buzzfeed or TMZ?
Katsuki clenched his hand, waiting for Izuku to look up. “We can go separately,” he said, and Izuku really appreciated that. The instant response to watch out for him.
He felt silly though, being worked up over a few cameras and unknown viewers through a screen. Like come on, who had problems with people questioning his worth because he was dating a pro alpha.
“I mean,” he clapped a hand on the back of his neck, smoothing the skin with an anxious energy. “There’s no point if we’re together.”
“Yea, but if you want it to stay out of the public eye then we can do that. I don’t want you freaking.”
“No. I signed up for this. Just…do I look okay? I don’t look gross right?”
Katsuki bumped his finger under his chin and led him up for a kiss. Pressed one light, not intention to rile a chase out of Izuku but he still felt like running to him. To those lips. He said, breath fanning over his mouth. “Shut the hell up, you look good, nerd.”
“I don’t have anything in my teeth?” Izuku peeled his lips back, poking the surface of his teeth for stray bits of food.
Boldly, Katsuki leaned in and licked them.
Izuku went stock still, processing that. “What is wrong with you?”
“You licked my teeth,” he said, hand pressed to his mouth in mild shock. “That’s so gross.”
“Yea, that’s not the grossest thing I’m gonna do to you,” Katsuki flirted, and while they were in the city of sin it did not give Katsuki blanket permission to act like a sinner.
He purred, a hand placed so precariously low on his back that a centimeter more and Katsuki would be palming his ass in broad daylight. “Gonna eat your booty.”
“Oh my god!”
Encouraged— jerk—, Katsuki husked. “Your cum.”
His skin would melt off any moment if Katsuki didn’t stop. “God.”
Eijirou whistled, and waved at the turned heads to remind the couple that they were not alone and this was an ‘alone’ conversation behind thick cement walls. “Hey, still kinda here,” he chirped. “Hearing you say all that nasty shit. Maybe you should save that for when I’m not here or something. You know because I don’t want to know that you eat ass.”
“You can’t say a damn word. Not after you sent me pictures of your shit.”
Izuku redirected his face of disgust at Eijirou now. “…You’re both nasty.”
“KitKat, they’re impressive.”
“Not when I’m fucking eating!”
“Ready?” Katsuki asked, face changing right before Izuku’s eyes from the alpha behind the name and the camera to the alpha fighter. All hard beauty and sharp teeth.
Izuku didn’t know if he should share him with the public anymore
He swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing. “Am I going to be on the internet?” He asked, fear attached itself to his feet like cinder blocks with each progressive step to the end of the hall
“So no pressure,” he laughed, anxiously. He had the most painful grip on Katsuki’s forearm. Bless him for enduring the half-moons his nails would leave after this. “Crap. I feel like puking.”
“As long as it’s not on me.”
“Don’t say that, you ding dong.”
Katsuki stepped on the heel of his Jordan’s. “Asshole.”
“Oh god, oh god.” Izuku panicked.
Lights, cameras, and, Katsuki! Katsuki! Mr. Bakugou, how are you feeling about the match? Bakugou, hey, Bakugou. Who’s that on your arms, Bakugou, huh? Do you really think you can even reach Yagi’s level, come on, man? Be real! Bakugou!
Security intercepted within minutes and flanked them from the terminal all the way to the car. The voices followed. The questions aimed to inquire for fans and for rage. Katsuki answered a few briefly while he walked with Izuku out the airport, the less friendly questions he ignored or bit off a snotty comment to the haggler. Izuku tried to mute out the probing questions about him, oh that a boyfriend? Model? Escort? Is it serious?; tried to curb the pulse of anger when one particular douche canoe ‘I’m doing this to celebs because they can eat some shit every once in a while’ told Katsuki to enjoy his perch at the top while it lasted.
The shut of the limo door silenced the world, blacked out the people hidden with lenses and blocky cell phones. In seconds the mod dwindled away in the back windshield. They’re stuck in traffic, bumper to bumper, nobodies in the sea of cars. The driver blasted the AC.
“See, no puke,” Katsuki said with a proud smirk. “My fuckin’ little champ.”
“That guy was a dick. Is it always like that?”
Katsuki pillowed his arm behind his neck and touched where his sleeves ended and the skin began, ghosting his fingers over the freckles there. “Sometimes. You’re gonna get people who hate you no matter what. Eijirou has them too, right?”
Eijirou nodded, less excited about the topic. “Yea. It sucks. You really gotta watch yourself around those people or they get to you.”
“Yagi too. Like people are fucking bogus to him on certain sites. And Yagi’s like the chilliest dude out there.”
“I guess you really don’t think about that. With celebrities, it seems like all money and praise.”
“It’s half and half. There are people who like you and chill with you and others who are there for the moment or a spotlight. It’s not like Hollywood level of deception but you got fighters who are two face.”
The light of Eijirou’s phone illuminated his sharp teeth. “Yagi just texted me. Said for us to check in without him, apparently the meeting is going on longer than he thought. Mezo should be there by the time we arrive. We should hit the casinos.”
“The fuck, I’m hitting one thing,” Katsuki said,” And that’s a fucking bed.”
“He’s just salty because he lost two grand last time. He wanted to pull a Barney Stinson thing.”
Izuku gasped. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Well I wanted you to think I was cool. Nothing’s lamer than a guy losing all his fucking money in the first hour”
“You’re the least coolest person on planet earth, Katsuki,” he laughed, snuggling comfortably into Katsuki’s side.
“Eijirou, does the penthouse have a pool?”
“Yea,” he hummed, distracted with uploading a photo to his snapchat. “Think it’s an infinity one.”
“Great, I’m drowning Deku in it.”
“Wait, we’re staying in a penthouse? Oh my god.”
Katsuki checked his nails coolly. “I mean, yea, no big deal for me.”
Izuku pinched him. “Shut up. You didn’t say we were staying at one. I feel so bad now.”
“Are you even budgeting your money? You don’t have to go so far for me. Really, don’t spend so much money on me.”
Katsuki shoved his face away softly. “Shaddup and let me fucking spend my shit on you, prick. God.”
A flash from the corner surprised both Izuku and Katsuki, who entered in a staring contest about Katsuki’s reckless spending habits. It was beyond adorable to be treated to these luxuries he would never have but Izuku didn’t go for Katsuki based on his bank account or his fame. He didn’t want Katsuki to think Izuku appreciate diamonds and private jets over his hand in his and a lazy Sunday morning in bed with awful morning breath and unruly bedhead.
Eijirou folded his legs, tapping on the screen with a proud grin.
“Did you fucking put us on your chat—I’m checking—you dick head.”
“What?” Izuku asked, leaning on Katsuki to see the picture of them in the limo , with the texts ‘lol #when bae gets mad at you’. “Eijirou.”
Click, another picture joined the story.
“Stop Snapchatting this,” Izuku laughed, reading the caption attached to the close up of his stern face ‘dark!Izuku unlocked’.
Katsuki cupped his stomach, head resting on the seat as he roared throatily at the picture. “Look at your face, Deku. It’s the funniest thing.”
His contagious laugh wormed a wide smile from him. “Shut up, donut man.”
Silence. Then a sharp inhale. “You made a vow,” Katsuki growled.
“And you laughed at my face,” he huffed back, teething hard against a smile.
“You’re getting it tonight,” he warned, and the darkness attached to those words weren’t menacing or malicious. Curled a low, addictive heat Izuku was developing a fast dependency to.
A new picture popped up. ‘mom and dad about to get it ON’
“Okay.” Katsuki handed Izuku his phone and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’m fucking getting you.”
“Stop snap chatting!”
“Dude, you’re touching my dick,” Eijirou crackled underneath the pin Katsuki molded him in, phone impressively still in his hand and clicking away pictures of Katsuki.
“What the fuck, ew.” He moved his hand, then with an honesty so adorably genuine and out of place with Katsuki’s crude manners, he said. “Deku. I swear I wasn’t going for his dick.”
Izuku watched the snap, choking back tears at the blurred image of Katsuki’s hair with his cheeks red and his eyes wide with fury. “I believe you, babe.”
In Las Vegas and Izuku was giggling away inside a luxury limo with shifting lights on the ceiling, a mini bar, a paid chauffeur; heart and mind free of the greed for money and sex. People came for the sin, the rush of the machines spilling dices, cards, and numbers on a promise of a carefree life; for the topless dancers in diamond stubbed thongs and white heels; for a world away from real life. Vegas was an escape city. Yet Izuku couldn’t wait for the dinners, the sun streaming in the window and on Katsuki’s face, for the motel TV bright at midnight, for the moments in between the large ones, for the chance to hold Katsuki’s hand in new places with new backgrounds, for the happy thought that one day they could look back at this trip.
Remember when we went to Vegas?
Remember when I was scared to get off the plane?
Remember when we couldn’t stop laughing during the drive?
Izuku: hey, what does Tenya smell like?
Ochako: accounting and Harry Potter.
Ochako: No. For real.
Ochako: Wait. How does Baku smell like?
Izuku: Led Zeppelin and sleeping past midnight on a school night.
Ochako: This is why I love u. U get me.
Izuku: Love you too.
Ochako Now u go get some D for me.
“Oh my god.” Izuku pushed the glass door and stepped out on the white balcony of the Palms Casino Hotel.
Cars rushed below him as he gingerly leaned over the glass railing that partitioned around the balcony. Luxury cars. Limos. Party bus with tinted window and blue lights. People milled on the streets, many tourists stopped on the corners with a map while the locals zipped on by for their shift. Businessmen and women with swollen pockets waved for a cab, their wealth worn on their bodies. Every building seemed grander than the last. Many made with reflective glass that captured the working world as the day passed. Dusty mountains hung in the distance, colored with blue shadows as the sun dipped closer to the horizon.
Izuku had seen extraordinary sights before—he’d lived in L.A. for the better part of eight years and went around the city and beyond when he bought his car—but he could say he was a bit stunted here. So out of his element. So out of his league. The stairs at his house had a built up of cobwebs and dust.
How the hell was he standing here, in the air with glass walls, a blue pool, and the sun so near he felt like Icarus?
Arms slithered around his waist. “Good?”
“I..I don’t think I’m worth the price of this room.”
The teeth sank into the back of his neck, and none of it was that cutesy nibbling bull you saw in the movies. No, Katsuki nipped him like a mean dog. All the bite.
“Katsuki!” he whined, head turning to bite Katsuki back because it did sting and while they may be boyfriends and Katsuki did have the warmest eyes across the planet to that lull Izuku into La-La Land, the rogue in him reared up in challenge.
That challenge quickly shriveled up under Katsuki’s glare.
A legitimate Katsuki Bakugou Trademark glare. It threw him for a loop for a second because the anger in it was so distinctly similar back in elementary school where Izuku and Katsuki competed in the spelling bee. They were neck to neck, upped only by Shouto, of course. Katsuki had stammered over the word ‘gargantuan’. Izuku didn’t, and so he spent the final fifteen minutes on stage trying to spell octopus, exacerbate, devastation with Katsuki in the audience mean mugging him like he was meticulously plotting out Izuku’s death over his humiliating defeat.
He called Izuku ‘Mr. Einstein’ and told him his dinosaur eraser, his consolation prize for second place next to a blue ribbon, was lame.
It was the same flame in his mature eyes; probably not plotting his death or anything like that over his failure in the sixth-grade spelling bee. But still, anger.
“Last time, Deku,” he warned; Izuku was not only feeling so insanely attacked but was actively being attacked with a second sharp bite. “I’m spending what I want on you. You’re worth it.”
God what a child—wait, what?
He bit him for that?
Bite. “Nah.” Fourth bite. “Zip it.”
“Don’t be childish,” he said. What was the price of this room per day, huh, a million? Billion? For Izuku? He didn’t know if Katsuki normally holed up in such luxuries before this and if he asked, Katsuki might fight him on it.
“I’ll throw you in the pool.”
A pool on the balcony, people. Izuku Midoriya was in the sky and had a pool to submerge and stare at the little people.
Katsuki mouthed his neck again.
Izuku said before he felt the curl of his lips parting for another bite. “Okay, if you bite me one more time and not make it sweet. I’ll throw you in that pool.”
“Oh yea?” Katsuki rumbled deep and naughty.
“It won’t be pleasant,” he informed him. That ‘oh yea’ was not one of apprehension and he wanted to fix that fast.
“Yea, my clothes will be all wet and I’ll have to take my clothes off and be naked.”
Well…when you put it like that…
Izuku turned around, biting his way into Katsuki’s curled mouth. “Get in the pool.”
Katsuki tongued his canines obscenely like a snarling dog. And this killer heat just dropped in his gut out of nowhere that he had a troublesome time standing and not oh kneeling, because he should probably get on his knees and take Katsuki’s cock in his mouth. For real this time. No VR crap. Hands on experience. But the glass digging at his back and Katsuki’s front kept him horizontal; shame.
Something slutty glinted in his eyes, and Izuku started mentally writing out his will because he knew trouble when he saw it. Knew a lethal situation when it came speeding for him. Knew Katsuki had good plans on royally melting him from the inside out.
“Make. Me,” he purred.
For someone having said ‘make me’, Katsuki didn’t put up much of a fight to Izuku’s hands pressing him backward to the pool. Katsuki fished out his phone and chucked on the lounge chair before he kicked off his shoes and wadded on the steps and into the water.
Izuku followed his example—bye phone, later shoes— and hissed from the cold lapping up to his waist.
Katsuki inhaled a breath and ducked under the water, surfacing back with wet bangs and speeding droplets on his face and his white shirt practically see through.
Izuku would like to thank Yagi for the hard program and Jesus for making Katsuki pretty and cut. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Yagi. He would cherish these gifts.
“I think I kinda need you for that so…” Aw, nice to see that slutty inner omega of his make a spectacular return to the field. It had been too many hours since Izuku thought about Katsuki naked and rippling over him.
Punctuated silence with Katsuki speechless and in the perfect setup for a photo shoot until he remembered words and how to use them. “…Fuck. Is it too soon to say I want that so bad? Like fuck, you’re pretty and, shit. Thinking about that.”
Izuku cupped his face; thumbed away a wet strand of blonde pasted to his skin and planted a kiss to that moving mouth. And then it moved again, different, without words.
Not gonna lie, having the ability to silence Katsuki Bakugou, the loudest mouth in his hometown, was karmic. “You’re mumbling,” he teased.
It took Katsuki several seconds to reboot his brain. “No. I got a fucking gorgeous man dropping these sexy bombs on my ass.”
It was Izuku’s turn to flounder. “G–gorgeous?” God, it sparked such a violent feeling to have Katsuki call him these things, to touch him openly and possessively, to have Katsuki take and hang him like a painting in an art gallery.
Izuku was a late bloomer when it came to looks. He had been too plain or cutesy with his scrawny limbs and large eyes to warrant a gorgeous. Yet Katsuki was slapping the word on him like it was common sense. Like telling Izuku sunsets were pretty, that oceans were mesmerizing—like get with the program, Izuku.
“For the last time, yes. You. Are. Handsome as fuck. Like what the fuck, you have the most CGI eyes out there. And you’re hair, it’s like a soft cat.”
“Stop, stop.” Izuku closed his eyes, face hidden in safety behind his hands. Breathe, you’re just in Las Vegas penthouse with a pro alpha turned boyfriend who should be nominated the sexiest man alive this year. ”You’re making me turn into a tomato.”
“A fine ass tomato. Do you plan on coming out, tomato boy?”
Ha, and die from Katsuki Exposure? He thought not.
“No. I’m very happy here. Thank you for asking.”
“How are you gonna see the kickass room I got you though?”
“Describe it to me.”
“Fine, but we gotta take our clothes off. Wouldn’t want to get water everywhere.”
Oh yes, we could not have that. Water, oh the humanity.
Water moved as, Izuku theorized with his visually impaired state, Katsuki got out of the pool. The zip of a fly and the wet plop of clothes freaking buzzed up his spine. Yea, yea, he had Katsuki’s balls in his mouth but it was a dream. They’re not in dreamland.
Before he could get too worked up over it, Katsuki was guiding Izuku up the little steps and pulling on the button of his jeans. “Gotta take these off.”
“Why did I get in the pool again?” He asked, nerves really partying it up as Katsuki pants him to his underwear. The end of his shirt was the only damp part so Katsuki let him have that.
“To get me naked or something,” Katsuki said, the noise of the Vegas strip cut to a muffle when he shut the door.
“So, we got some fucking rugs. Those modern looking ass chairs that are fucking shitty to sit it. A fire pit. TV. Weird statues. Kitchen is just silver appliances and marble counters.”
“Yea. Nothing special there,” Izuku commented.
Katsuki walked him further; slowed at the bathroom door to turn the knob and give it a kick. “ Alright, the bathroom is pretty tight.”
“Is the showerhead impressive?”
Katsuki left him to check, the dials turned soundlessly and water hit the walls. “Does it sound impressive?” The high walls and stone steps added an echo-y sound effect to Katsuki’s voice
“Very,” he laughed.
Katsuki shut off the water and returned. “Okay. That’s a closet. That’s another closet. Pool table. Bar. And, oh, the bedroom. Got big ass windows for you to look out of.”
“Yea. The bed’s pretty big too.”
“You don’t say.”
“Probably could fit two people.”
“Hmm. Two people?”
Izuku lowered his hands, found Katsuki outrageously pretty with the blue and lavender sky chilling behind him and his honey red eyes aglow like something out of a movie. Thought about how funny the turn of events was once more for a moment until he started to realize Katsuki had nothing but some wet black briefs on right now and why was he wasting a chance to kiss him in a penthouse.
Put that into action by stepping closer until their toes touched, and ghosting his hand up Katsuki’s solid chest, started to burn like a mad star when Katsuki shivered with this insanely dark heat in his eyes. The room smelled like lighter fluid, and he took a lot of pride out of coaxing Katsuki’s alpha.
“Let’s test that out,” he said, feeling the divide between himself and his omega slip until they’re one big fat human suit of need and sex.
Katsuki’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I’m gonna have a hard time keeping my hands to myself, Deku.”
Izuku showed him that was not a problem by taking Katsuki’s hand and curling it around his ass. “Who said I wanted that?”
“You are fucking too much. Holy fuck.” The whole building should be quivering with the deep bass in Katsuki’s voice. That soft, whiney groan leashed at the back of his throat like he was trying and failing by the sound of it, to keep up the wall between him and the alpha.
And you wanted a wall between you and an alpha. There was a reason they had stricter laws, a reason alphas were excluded from the rest of the world when it came to professional sports. Alphas didn’t play with humans on the football field unless you wanted your human players to fall into a coma. Alphas didn’t compete in the MMA or UFC tournaments because the first one locked a guy in a choke hold so fast and powerful that he created hairline fractures in the bones.
So you wanted that barrier up at all times unless you wanted that kind of trouble knocking on your doorstep and Izuku did—
On his doorstep.
Basically any part of him that could take Katsuki, wanted his hands there.
Don’t worry, he was a rogue. He could take an alpha.
“Put me on that bed, alpha.”
Katsuki whooshed a harsh breath of air out his mouth. “Fuck.”
“Um, yea, cause I’m pretty fucking sure I might break you if I do that.”
“You won’t. I trust you.”
So they kind of killed the afternoon sun with kisses and hip rolls on a California King. He should feel bad—Las Vegas quite literally waited outside their window, a world of experiences and everything but nothing felt better than being cooped up in silk sheets with the AC going and Katsuki’s jet-lagged body drifting in and out of sleep to kiss Izuku until he couldn’t manage it.
This was his… sixth return?
Izuku figured out a TV appeared behind a panel and tuned it to Animal Planet, idly watching the litters of kittens and pups while he crawled out of a quiz hole.
Katsuki hugged the pillow, smooshing one cheek to look at Izuku with one blinking eye. “Are you on BuzzFeed right now?”
“Yes,” he chirped. “I’m doing a quiz to see what kind of dog I am. You wanna take it after me so we can see if we’re dog compatible?”
Katsuki went on his elbow, glaring at the headboard with sleepy eyes.“I fell asleep.”
He crashed back into his pillow. “Did you come? Cause I remembering jerking you off.”
“No. Actually, you fell asleep and you started snoring. It’s really hard to finish with you being such a dork.”
“Fuck. Get here.”
“Or you can watch cute animals with me and take a nap whenever,” Izuku suggested sweetly. “Just cause we’re in sin city doesn’t mean we gotta be sinning.”
“Yea. Come here,” Izuku placed a pillow over his lap.
Katsuki grumbled up to his hands and knees, shuffled over, and plopped down like an old dog.
Izuku tugged the covers over Katsuki and set his phone aside as the quiz pended the result in favor of rubbing Katsuki’s scalp. “So what kind of dog are you?”
“Let’s see.” He picked up his phone, scrolling down, fingers still busying through the alpha’s hair. “I’m a…Golden Lab.”
“Eijirou had one,” Katsuki mumbled.
“Yup,” he hummed, looking up at Izuku as the memories flashed back and brought out a sleepy chuckle. “He called it Snickers and that dog always tried humping me every time I came over. We had to lock him out Eijirou’s room when I spent the night.”
“In the dog’s defense,” Izuku laughed.
“He was a little shit, I dunno, dogs are fucking stupid but sweet as hell you know.”
“My mom works at a shelter so yea. I always wanted one but it was a lot of money to have a dog at the time so I just did a few hours walking them.”
“Me too. Started liking them then.”
“There was this one dog that I loved. He was a Siberian Husky and chocolate and he loved to be hugged. He would just push his body against you until you did it.”
“Did he get adopted?”
“Yea. Really fast. He was too sweet for a shelter….They were a good family though and you fell asleep again.”
Katsuki snored, loud and obnoxious with his mouth opened.
Izuku kissed his forehead, so damn alive right now. So damn grateful. So damn happy with this slumbering alpha who flew him first class and snuggled him to death in one of the wildest cities. Beautiful women and men danced in the clubs, on the stage, walked the streets—all easy and willing to spend one frisky night with a pro alpha—and Katsuki shrugged it off. Looked so peaceful to let that fast life pass him in a flash.
Izuku: [picture message sent]
Izuku: I cant. He’s so cute. Help.
Ochako: wait a dilly damn minute here are you in A PENTHOUSE, IZUKU MIDORIYA??
Ochako: confirm now or I will call ur mom and tell her ur in bed with a boy.
Izuku: WHY U GOTTA SNITCH
Ochako: confirm now
Izuku: it’s the Palms
Ochako: I want to beat u up rn. I’m here eatin mint ice cream and watching Family Feud with Tenya. And ur in vegas. In a penthouse.
Ochako: u bish
Ochako: I pray Mothman comes for your soul Izuku Midoriya!
Izuku: lollol. BUT I LOVE U!
Ochako: when u guys get married it better be in Hawaii and my tickets better be paid in full too bitch
Ochako: and I love u too
Tenya: did you mean to send that to group? Cause I’m upset you’re in a penthouse without us.
Tenya: me and Ochako just did our taxes and we’re eating our financial fears with ice cream.
Ochako: we should have got with a rich person, baby. Then date each other on the side and spend that sugar money on us.
Tenya: NEVER! I would rather be poor and live in a cardboard box with you than date some sugar momma.
Izuku: okay, please stop blowing up my phone. I’m going to sleep.
Ochako: IN. A. PENTHOUSE.
Izuku reached for his cell, arm extended out from under the silk sheets like a reanimated zombie clawing through the earth. The full force of the sun and the intense brightness of the screen made him squint and answer the call with a sleep-heavy voice.
“Hello?” He yawned as he took in the million dollars room and that billion dollars view out the floor to ceiling windows. Perfect except for one thing, no Katsuki snoring in a starfish pose.
“Were you sleeping?” Katsuki asked on the phone. “Lazy.”
He rubbed sleep from his eyes, the world still foggy and unclear with it. “I’m sorry. Where are you?”
“I did a podcast with some guy. Talked with a few reporters. Hyping up the match.”
“Shoulda woke me up,” he laid his head over his arms, disappointed that he slept away the opportunity to tag along to Katsuki’s public appearance. He had reservations over his own public exposure but he wanted to be there for Katsuki and it would be a neat thing to see his boyfriend working under the limelight.
Izuku pictured that obnoxious curl to his mouth as Katsuki said. “Woulda but someone played quizzes to one in the morning. Even Eijirou loud ass didn’t wake you up. Figured you could use the sleep.”
“You need to call me something else.”
“I’ll think of something special to call you. So when are you heading back?”
“Like an hour or so,” he said. “Traffic is fucking stupid right now, some asshole tried crossing three lanes. And here goes another asshole. Nice driving! Anyway, got one more errand to get done, then we have the whole day.”
“Oh. What are we gonna do?”
“Have your ass ready in an hour and you’ll see.”
Izuku laughed, the sound a drowsy mumble in the quiet room, and his eyelids drifted close, near sleep again. He blinked rapidly, fighting the urge. This bed was a deathtrap. It either lured you to sleep or into sex. “Okay. I’ll see you then. Drive safely, please.”
“I’m an fucking excellent driver,” Katsuki defended.
Izuku folded the pillow to prop his head up. “You are such a liar.”
“Shut yo mouth, nerd. Oh yeah, real quick, you can order room service if you’re hungry. It’s on me.”
“You’re making me feel so bad,” he mumbled.
After Katsuki passed out from fooling around, Izuku went exploring. Oh-ed and aw-ed at the modern furniture, died from the sublime water pressure, smoothed his hands up and down the silver appliances, and revisited the balcony for a second viewing, still amazed at how high he was and how little the world became at his feet. And while during his self-issued adventure around the penthouse, he said the listing of food you could order at the desk and the, um, ludicrous prices. Excuse me, but thirty for a burger? Nah, he would go to Wendy’s and get six for half the price and a frosty.
So, yea, not enthused to have Katsuki bill out fifty for a full breakfast even though his stomach grumbled from going on nothing but a morning bagel. And yes, he was too polite to order food on the plane, okay?
“Why? It’s just money.”
Izuku tried not to take Katsuki’s reckless spending personally. It was sweet. He wanted Izuku to experience the best, but good god.“I guess I’m not used to this.”
“Get used to it.”
He rolled his eyes fondly. “Okay, boss.”
“Seriously. Fucking eat. I’ll call the desk myself.”
“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll eat, pinky promise.”
“Good. See you, Deku.”
Izuku sat cross-legged on the balcony with a steaming plate of eggs, waffles, and bacon and cup of coffee with the dusty mountains far in the distance . Ochako was rightfully jealous when he snapped the picture.
Ochako: WHY U DO THIS TO ME
Ochako: now I want waffles! I’m working rn, omg
Ochako: I hope UR enjoying urself
Izuku: I am now :D
Katsuki: Here. Come down.
Izuku cupped his hand against the sun, checking the text a second time to make sure he didn’t read it wrong seeing as Katsuki wasn’t in the casino floor nor out in front where the valets exchanged keys for tips. One sport car after another rolled coolly down the road. Another model, another beauty, another millionaire, another strung-out father/husband/boyfriend passing through the casino’s door.
Feeling more than underdressed with his simple button up and dark jeans and the thousand dollar wardrobes waltzing around him, Izuku grabbed his phone again to call Katsuki about the holdup. He listened to the ring, sidestepping a model. A sleek white Lambo with black rims honked. One of the valets practically skipped to the car. The driver door folded up. Fancy. Like the movies. Izuku thought it was pretty cool and; oh my god—
Katsuki set his elbows on the roof with a smirk. “Sup.”
“Please tell me you did not buy that.”
“What, hell no, it’s a rental.” Katsuki waved the valet off, then smoothed his hand rather sexually on the roof. If he wasn’t so insanely earnest for Izuku’s approval, this move might come off a bit douchey. But they were dating, so. Cute; absurdly cute. “You like?”
Izuku approached, experiencing some vertigo. “I—I need a minute.” Or like, forever. The car was worth his college tuition five times over.
“Have your minute in here.” Katsuki rounded the car and popped the passenger door. “Sit.”
Izuku went in, numb mind you, from the astronomical cost that was tallying since the flight. He appreciated the gesture but Izuku lived at one point from paycheck to paycheck, learning to cut corners, eating dollar store food, and living without cable or internet for a few months. His mother struggled when his father left and the experience engraved a strict habit of saving in him.
So to see Katsuki spend ,god knew what, to rent a Lambo for a day kind of spun his ass around in circles.
Katsuki revved the engine and eased out the driveway. “Did I fuck up?” He asked once he peeled on to the street.
“What, no, no. I’m just processing everything.”
“Okay…” Oh no. Not that daredevil smile. Do not use that on him, it wasn’t fair. Katsuki wiggled his brows. Full playboy smirk on overdrive. The car wasn’t the only thing revving if you knew what he meant—sorry, slutty omega. Whoops. “Do you wanna process how fast this thing goes?”
“Katsuki, bad. Very bad. Don’t you—“ Izuku’s back collided, firmly, to the seat as Katsuki gunned the small stretch of the unoccupied street. “Oh my god, you manic!”
Izuku clawed frantically at the expensive black leather, cars blurring to splashes of colors. “We’re going to die!”
“Nah,” he snorted, coolly holding the wheel with one hand and the stick with the other. “I’m good with sticks.”
“This is not the time for a dick joke, Katsuki!”
Katsuki grabbed his hand, squeezing tight. A mini gesture of comfort, maybe? Or just for the thrill of throttling in a million dollar car with his hand in Izuku’s, but either way—
“Both hands on the car, please!” He shouted.
“You damn nerd. Fine. Hands on the car, happy?”
Izuku made the cross.
On the expensively blue lit radio, words boomed—
I can't stop this feeling
Deep inside of me
Girl, you just don't realize
What you do to me
“Won’t they get mad?” Izuku asked as they stared out at the mountains.
A warm honey glow ran over the jagged peaks, the shadows harsher with the low afternoon sun. The shadow fell over them too where they played off road with the Lambo and parked on an unmanned trail. Vegas buzzed in the distance, a mass beacon of light. Katsuki drove him around the city, wasting gas but giving Izuku his personal tour, as he rattled off random thoughts or memories.
I met a cool ass trans girl there.
Bought shrooms once here.
Oh, man, Yagi and I killed this place every night after training. Best fucking gyros on the damn planet.
Apparently it was a ploy to ‘Pretty Woman’ Izuku. According to Katsuki, Izuku wasn’t premiering the fight in anything on the racks from Target. No, high class. Top shelf. Izuku stopped checking the price tag on the third suit. Really, the zeros were not helping. Ignorant bliss was better. And his butt looked, don’t cringe, but hella fine in those slacks and Katsuki was attentive to find a green silk tie to capitalize on his eyes.
It would take some time for Izuku to get anywhere comfortable about Katsuki showering him, but the grins he reserved when Izuku gawked or gushed at the fine luxury items made it easier.
“Who?” Katsuki’s low voice rumbled behind him, relaxed too with the colors and the landscape empty of cameras and people. His hard arms coiled snugly around Izuku’s waist as they sat on the hood. They’re veiny and cut when he flexed the tendons there.
Izuku could touch them forever—did when he wasn’t overwhelmed by the mountains or Katsuki’s eyes.
“The people you rented this thing from.” Izuku tapped the metal. Gingerly. Then got back to dragging his hands over Katsuki’s forearms. ”I’m no expert but I think Lambos aren’t good semi off road.”
“I just raised the value of it,” he said.
“There’s that big old ego.”
“Wait,” Katsuki said and Izuku craned his neck back. “I have an ego?”
He bopped his nose. “Shut up, you goof.”
“So…” Katsuki hedged; honeycomb red eyes dipping away from the contact Izuku made. The body language was voluminous on its own without the aid of Katsuki’s scent—loud with a sticky texture enhanced by the smell of the road and the uncrowded desert. “You like it then?”
“My stars,” Izuku touched his fingers to his lips. “Is Katsuki Bakugou blushing?” He teased, really fucking grateful for that—that behind the scenes footage Katsuki allowed more and more. The breadcrumbs to his mind and soul. Money, penthouses, and cars were great but he lived for the transparency.
Katsuki turned his head away. “Dick.”
“Wait, wait, I’m kidding. Bring that face back to me. There we go.” He kissed him, lips ablaze like the god of thunder himself shrunk himself down to the size of an atom and danced with his great hammer, making storms, disrupting sound with the violent rumble of thunder. “Much better.”
“Damn,” Katsuki breathed, the air coming with it worked like a cool layer of frost on his swollen lips. Izuku didn’t know how they would balance real life in between these nuclear kisses.
Were they gonna grow stale?
Would he stop getting swallowed up by a simple peck?
Like, damn, he might need to exercise self-control to live a normal life.
“And I like this,” he said, sincerely. “Thank you for bringing me.”
Katsuki blinked, caught off guard and unfamiliar with the proper handling of the soft emotion in Izuku’s eyes. A beam of sunlight streamed over his vision, forcing Izuku to squint up against the glare as Katsuki looked away .
“Uh, well, yea. Not like you’re doing me a favor here…I want you here too, I guess.” A film of self directed cringing had Katsuki squeezing his eyes shut.
He corrected it. “Fuck ,um, I can’t talk for shit right now.”
Izuku tapped his chin, guiding him back so he could watch his face and not the hard profile of it. “You’re a goof. It’s okay to goof around me.”
“Nah, I got an image, Deku.”
“A goof image,” Izuku said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“You fucking little marshmallow shitbag.”
“Goof, goof, goof.,” Izuku announced to the wilderness, giggling at Katsuki’s attempts to silence him. He clamped his hand over his mouth and Izuku countered it by worming his fingers under his jeans to the sensitive dip in his hip. Katsuki’s hand dropped, weakened and shivering. Izuku shouted again. “Cheesy goof.”
Katsuki seized his jaw, and it literally took a nanosecond for Izuku’s smile to dwindle and for the warmth in his body to turned syrupy and thick with sex.
“I’m fucking shutting that mouth for good,” Katsuki said in that deep, deep rumble growl and Izuku didn’t even think about it, just did it or maybe his omega did, but his legs spread open and there was an added, lewd curl to his back that strategically had his ass pressing close against Katsuki’s cock.
“I mean if you have too—mmm.” Katsuki cut him off right there, which was really smart because not a damn thing smart or witty or intelligible was coming out of his mouth anytime soon.
Nope, just garbage noises. Garbage breaths and moans. Garbage hands in Katsuki’s hair.
“That’s what I thought. Ain’t so tough—fuck. Kiss me again.”
Izuku backed his ass, really shameless now. Smiled drunkenly with a moan as he felt Katsuki swollen and hard. Yea, that was all for him now. All his. “Something’s poking me.”
Katsuki groaned, grabbing Izuku’s hips to continue the grind. “Well someone’s ass is rubbing me and kissing me. “
Izuku tipped his head back on his shoulder, more than okay with Katsuki dry humping him on the hood of a million dollar Lambo in the middle of nowhere. On board with the one hand that strayed from his hip bone to the soft inside of his thigh, groping and squeezing up to his cock but never giving Izuku the hot thrill of palming his dick.
Izuku could smell fire, gasoline, smoky wood, and unattended cigarettes.
Katsuki nibbled down the side of his neck, yanked impatiently at the collar, stretched so it dangled loosely on his body, and exposed the skin of his shoulder, then kissed it softly. His nerves felt absolutely violent when the kisses turned into wet open-mouthed drags. Started to feel the point where Katsuki’s hands and mouths weren’t filling him up quick enough.
Felt that omega talk, you know, the one crying for cock. Crying to suck on one. Ride on one. Driving all other thoughts outside his mind. Making him wet, and hell, he shouldn’t have picked out these jeans—but they made his butt so cute and damnit, now Izuku had to worry about soaking through his clothes.
Katsuki pressed his nose under his jaw, inhaled, and moaned. “Fuck, man. God fucking damn it. Fucking smell so good right now.”
“Could we—ha, fuck” Izuku moaned cause—sweet Patricia— Katsuki’s hand was not dilly-dallying on his inner thigh. Was now cupping his cock over his jeans before that became old news and slipped his hand inside his jeans and underwear. Found Izuku’s shape real quick and started working his dick like an expert
Whoa, Izuku couldn’t look away from the sight of Katsuki’s big hand stroking under his clothes.
Izuku tried again cause he needed dick at this point, honestly. As slutty as it came off, he needed one in some part of him or he would cry. It was that bad. “Can we…Katsuki, baby, can we—in the Lambo.”
Katsuki popped off from where he was sucking a deep hickey. “What?”
“Can I blow you?”
Oh, oh man Izuku did not know what to do with the dark noise Katsuki made. His tough body violent with vibrations. “Holy fuck. Yeah. Shit, yeah. Right now right now, right?”
“Yes, silly.” With Katsuki, ahem, processing the proffered blowjob, Izuku switched the dynamics. Pulled Katsuki’s hand off his cock so he could straddle his lap, expensive Lambo be damned. Screw it, he would pay out of pocket for the scratches and smears his sneakers made as he climbed the hood. He needed this.
Living for the real-life feeling of his legs parted on Katsuki’s lap. The stretch you felt, you know, when you got up on a person. The little ball of fire blazing in your gut cause you could do some much damage in the position. Could drag out the foreplay with shallow ruts. Could end it by grinding against that cock.
“Right now right now,” he purred, paying Katsuki back for earlier, and tugged vengefully on the straps of his muscle tee. Helped himself to his strong neck and defined shoulders.
“C-cool,” Katsuki said, un-coolly. “Yea. Don’t feel you have too because of the money or anything—“
“Katsuki.” Izuku drew back, flicking Katsuki on the nose for his attention as he climbed off his lap and started his slow descent down to the sand. Katsuki watched with heavy eyes. “ You could take me to McDonald's and I would still want to blow you.” Izuku felt a little lightheaded from the gaze but he managed the slow transition from standing to kneeling at the bumper of the Lambo. “I want you.” He looked up.
Really liked the position from below with Katsuki speechless, breathing out his mouth loud like a lawnmower, and his hands splayed wide on the hood.
Izuku helped him spread his legs and slotted right between his thighs. Felt up those thighs, hard even through the coarse fabric of his jeans, and teethed his lower lip playfully when his fingers brushed over the large bulge.
Katsuki shook, head cocked downward. “Izuku.”
“Is this for me?” He kissed him over the zipper.
“Fuck,” he whined. “All for you, Deku. Hard as fuck for you.”
Izuku laughed, the sound more breathy and lewd than he intended. “So generous.”
Katsuki snorted. “That’s me, Mr. Generous.”
“Oh, but you have been. First class. Penthouse. This car. My clothes. I think you deserve a little something for being such a good alpha.”
Katsuki moaned. “C-come on, man. Fuck. You know that ain’t fair.”
“What, calling you ‘alpha’?”
Katsuki visibly trembled.
Oh, Izuku could do a lot of damage with this.
“It’s like a shock collar,” he delighted. “Alpha.”
Katsuki’s palm slipped on the hood. “F-fucking. Shit, shit.”
“This is great.”
“Oh yea? Omega.”
Izuku tingled. “H-hey.”
“Still funny?” Katsuki smirked, his lips dipped in honey gold from the sun that peek-a-boo behind one small pointy mountain peak.
Should Izuku be offended or aroused that even the sun was feeling Katsuki up?
Decided it was hot, but thought it would be much hotter if he sucked Katsuki in his mouth and shut down that smirk for good, then got to it. With no forewarning, Izuku pulled his zipper, yanked his clothes down to the middle of his thighs and swallowed his cock.
There was no smirk now. Actually, he couldn’t see his face currently with the way Katsuki had his head dipped back.
Normally, Izuku could suck a dick and not write a novel about it. Sometimes a blowjob was a blowjob, you sucked, licked, pumped, and done. Could be done in his sleep honestly depending on his mood and his current sex drive levels.
So Izuku was no noob when it came to dick sucking.
Except for now cause he had Katsuki’s cock in his mouth and there wasn’t a word to describe the deep heat buzzing in his blood at the length of him, the musky taste, the fat girth. Izuku literally needed a second to thank God for this moment.
“Izuku,” Katsuki said, looking so awful. Poor thing had a shiny gloss on his face.
Izuku dragged his mouth slow off his cock, stroked him as he said in a cock roughened voice. “I’m gonna make you feel good, Katsuki.”
Then started with his mouth pressed daintily to the head of his cock, kissing it. Moaning low as pre-cum painted his lips like lip gloss and Katsuki choked up a storm of groans. Did that until Katsuki was at his limits, was at the point that his thighs trembled on either side of Izuku’s head, and took damn mercy on them both and opened his mouth wide, sliding Katsuki’s swollen cock as far as he could. Izuku never had the desire to deep throat a guy until now. He wanted Katsuki far and deep. Wanted to choke on him. Wanted to struggle for air because Katsuki was fucking his mouth with his fat cock—
Katsuki’s fingers dragged him out his thoughts with their reverent touch mapping his stretched lips. “Deku. Damn.”
Izuku suctioned his mouth tight and sucked up, circling his tongue thickly around his sensitive head.
Katsuki lost his grip that kept him upright on the hood, and slammed heavy, his hips rocking up tentatively.
Izuku puffed a raspy laugh and kissed up the shaft of his cock. “The car,” he reminded.
“Fuck the car. Your damn mouth.”
“Do you want to fuck it?”
Izuku was delveloping an unhealthy dependency to Katsuki’s shivery moans. “Y-yea. Can I?”
Izuku moved up, knees protesting, and laid on top of Katsuki, jeans chafing rough from where their hips pressed together and rutted, and pulled him into a messy kiss. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Ditto,” Katsuki said between the brief parts of their lips.
“Jerk, stealing all my good lines.”
Katsuki nipped him, voice re-entering a dark plane of reality as he said. “Yea, yea. Now,” he gave Izuku an encouraging push down; which had no right being so hot but Izuku was living for the strength in his hand, for the pressure, for the command. “Get back down there.”
Izuku took that order and made some minor adjustments to it. Went down as requested, but he also hiked up Katsuki’s shirt to his chest and nibbled excessively on the hard ridges of his abs and enjoyed himself too fiercely when the wall of muscles hollowed and quivered under his tongue. Lingered there for a minute and started an addiction for Katsuki’s tummy shivers and laughed every time Katsuki let out a small moan and glared down at Izuku in return.
And while the view up was grand and amazing, the one below it was better so— went down. Felt way, way too good just getting on his knees again. Felt bomb with his hand wrapped around Katsuki’s hot cock, swollen and red with want. Could not and did not fight his moan when he got his mouth back on him. Slipped his cock deep and relaxed his throat, then looked up to signal Katsuki to go for it.
Katsuki cupped the back of his head, and watched his hips pump in slow and easy and then back out wet and glossy. He rolled his eyes back with a soft groan. “Fuck. No way I’m gonna last long.”
Izuku replied by fucking his mouth up and down. Worked Katsuki like a lollipop with wide licks and lazy swallows and deep hums around the sensitive head. Added his hands and used the slick tear dropping down his cock to jack him off too, roll his balls, feel them heavy and hot in his palm.
Probably looked straight up omega with everything. Red lips. Pink cheeks. Coarse breaths. Heart a battle drum with that hot honey need carving claw marks as it centered right in his hips, in his dick, his ass.
Didn’t mind it because, damn, it was shredding Katsuki the hell up. Having his cock leak and pulse like a desperate thing, like nobody sucked him off before and Izuku knew without a doubt that was not true. You saw Katsuki; and part of you, no matter how reluctant, wanted to bend.
“Izuku. O-oh fuck, gonna make me cum fast like that.”
The way Katsuki said it as though that wasn’t Izuku’s sole purpose for breathing right now. Did he really not anticipate the red curl of want in Izuku’s cock at that? Did he expect Izuku to slow or pull off completely? Cause many things would have to happen first before Izuku did anything else.
Izuku reached past his hips and squeezed Katsuki’s ass in answer.
Roll your hips.
Take my mouth.
Then breathed through the blistering hot pumps Katsuki unleashed, cock dragging so hot and wet against his tongue, between the fire hydrate red of his lips like he had no control. Couldn’t see or think past his own pleasure, just had to fuck…
“Izuku, Izuku. Fuck yeah, baby. Fuck. G-gonna. Shit. Close, Izuku. So close,” Katsuki choked, neck jerked back like some invisible force snapped it and came.
Izuku swallowed it, which if you ever had the unfortunate experience of enduring a mouth full of cum then you knew the horrid, bitter taste of it, yet Izuku found the taste pleasant. Strong, but definitely a more manageable. Not that Katsuki’s cum had any relevancy on the possibility of future blowjobs, but it struck him odd.
Katsuki, on the other hand, shared no reservations about tasting cum as he snatched up Izuku’s chin and slipped his tongue inelegantly deep in his mouth to taste it. He whined and let Katsuki manhandle the tilt of his face and the movement of their kiss.
“You swallowed,” Katsuki said as he maneuvered Izuku on his lap, carefully mindful of his softening cock and the coarse fabric of Izuku’s jeans.
Izuku attempted a laugh but it came out shredded, like he smoked cartons for half of his natural life and abandoned the idea on talking for the moment, and buried his nose under Katsuki’s jaw and let that Bic lighter fluid sail him down a river of calm.
Katsuki had no sudden speech impairment, so he said. “Must like me a lot then, huh.”
There was nothing profound in his words.
Nothing profound in this moment.
Nothing profound in kisses and public sex, but—
It kind of felt, profound. Big.
Maybe it the omega afterglow rewiring his brain temporarily but he had an un-ignorable feeling in his body and it latched severely to every part of him, telling Izuku, alphaishere.
Izuku stared at him, wordless with his feelings, and kissed him. Still unbelievably hard as hell but so, so, so gone on Katsuki. So consumed by the dopey grin sketched sluggishly on his face
Katsuki hummed deeply into the kiss.
Their future held so many unknowns, so many question marks, so many alternative paths—
But, this current one, held answers, visible roads, an attainable future where Izuku worked in their hometown for the remainder of the year until Katsuki roped him into a getaway and flew him across the world.
Izuku hugged him. Close as he could physically be, but still tried his damnest to make it closer.
The wide desert rumbled with the speakers as the sky above them filled with the color of plums and honey—
Hey (hey) What's the matter with your head? yeah...
Hey (hey) What's the matter with your mind and all your sighing?
Hey (hey) Nothin's a matter with your head, baby, find it
Come on and find it
Hey, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine and you're mine
And you look so divine
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
“Am I going too fast?” Izuku asked, driving a snail pace on the road.
Katsuki crackled as cars blared their horns and sped around them, middle fingers raise and directed at Izuku, who was too stricken with panic and nerves to take notice of it.
“Deku, you’re fucking going 20 in a Lambo.”
“I don’t want to crash it! I’ve never driven stick, why are you doing this to me?”
Katsuki leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Shut up, nerd. You’re doing fine.”
A Chevy blazer pulled up next to them, rolled the window, and shouted, “Asshole, learn how to fucking drive!”
Katsuki did him a solid and answered on his behalf with a, “Don’t make me fucking get out this car, asshole!”
“Oh yeah?!” The driver yelled.
Izuku brought up his hand and hid his face from the driver while he scolded Katsuki. “Could you not?”
“Dad! That’s Katsuki Bakugou!” One of the kids announced from the back, head poked between the front seats.
And that was how Katsuki and Izuku wound up on the side of the road with a family of five and taking selfies with the low sun.
“Sorry about that,” the dad said, clapping Katsuki’s hand in a friendly handshake.
“Eh, road rage.”
“Hey, how about we take one for you guys?” He pointed at Izuku and Katsuki. “You know, scrapbook memories. You’re gonna want them when you guys get older together.”
Katsuki shifted his gaze on Izuku as he sat huffily against the Lambo with his arms crossed and mood sour. “Yea. Come on, Deku.”
They posed next to the car with the mountain a rose gold in the background.
“You jerk,” Izuku complained, unhappy he couldn’t stay mad for long.
Katsuki’s nose dipped into his curls with a baritone laugh. “I’ll drive.”
“So irresponsible,” he went on.
“Guess it’s a good fucking thing you are, right?”
Izuku ruined one of the photos by turning his head, and blinked in wonder at Katsuki’s hard profile.
Omegas and alphas, mates, they balanced each other.
They were balancing.
Izuku submerged his feet in the pool and pillowed his head on Katsuki’s shoulder. It was the night before the match and Katsuki spent most of the morning in the gym with Yagi. Izuku went and watched on the sideline as Katsuki’s fists pummeled into the bag, speed so blinding his hands blurred and Izuku could not keep count of each successive strike. They explored the strip after a meal where Katsuki flicked on a pair of dark shades and a baseball cap to ‘conceal’ his identity. A few fans recognized him and Izuku only minded a little when Katsuki dropped his hand to pose for pictures. They crashed in the penthouse afterward with the whole crew, drinking beer while they shared humiliating stories about Katsuki to Izuku.
The lights of the strip lined the harsh bones of his face. Katsuki turned his head and Izuku saw plum, gold, white, and red fall over him.
Izuku tapped his chin, drew him in, and kissed him senseless while the city colored them in bright lights.
“Nervous?” Izuku asked.
Water whispered in the silence of the sky. The white lights under the water illuminated it an otherworldly blue. Katsuki’s calloused feet were comically large next to his as they played footsie in the pool.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Izuku said.
Katsuki slotted their lips.
Izuku’s eyes drifted automatically and fell into it.
“Kiss for luck,” Katsuki said outside the locker room.
Izuku stuck out in the back halls with his thousand dollar suit, hundred dollar tie and shoes, and his hair actually presented in something close to classy. Back here, it was mostly behind the scenes people—fighters, trainers, nutritionist, buff security in clothes two sizes too small, and local reporters. Even Katsuki dressed more casual than usual; flexible basketball shorts, a thin tank, and old Converse. The suit for the after party was back at the penthouse, which they planned to drive back too so Katsuki could hop into the shower.
“Thought you didn’t need it.”
Katsuki checked him out, again, like his body physically compelled him to; and Izuku might be dolled up in an expensive suit with front row tickets to the fight but none of that matched to the beautiful feeling of Katsuki acting like a teenager. All lames excuses for physical contact. Fleeting glances, and suggestive lip biting. “Fine, I want an excuse to kiss your lame face.”
“Okay. Here, one for you,” Izuku listed, pecking their lips. “And, one for luck.”
Katsuki hummed, fingers clawing into the once tamed curls of his hair and undid all his hard work.
“My hair,” Izuku complained as he combed it back into some variation of suave.
“It’s better the regular way.”
“I worked so hard to look nice though.”
“When the fuck did you ever need to work hard for that?”
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Well, you were kinda annoying,” Katsuki joked.
Yea, so annoying that was why Katsuki forcibly stitched himself into every crevice of Izuku’s life. Annoying that Katsuki’s hand did not know a place other than his body. Annoying that Katsuki rarely went a day without making an ass of himself in some tragically cute attempt to impress Izuku, who was more impressed you could be deep in a person. Could get lost in them like a maze. Could spend a century walking through the halls of their body and never get out. Could be Alice in Wonderland and never resurface out the dream and into reality.
Katsuki’s warm gaze lulled his, locked it, trapped it, suspended him. And maybe Izuku’s face was transparent right now cause Katsuki reverted back to the ego-heavy grin.
“Cheer for me,” he prompted.
Izuku laughed. “Maybe.” Cheer? Izuku was going to fanboy so hard Katsuki might cringe.
“Oh, can I get a kiss too?” Eijirou walked out the locker room and hooked his arm loosely around Katsuki’s neck and made kissy noises.
Katsuki pushed his face. “Get the fuck—off!”
“Don’t deny our love anymore, KitKat.” Eijirou twisted his hips and tried to climb Katsuki by hiking his leg over his hip.
Katsuki groaned, turning his cheek away from Eijirou’s puckered lips and gagged. “God, your breath smells like Taco Bell, stop.”
Izuku giggled, then snapped a few pictures while Eijirou occupied Katsuki. These would look excellent on Facebook. And for blackmail. What, they’re boyfriends but that didn’t mean Izuku would play nice all the time.
“Your dick is rubbing me. Stop!”
“Whoops.” He climbed off and publicly adjusted his crotch. “He got out of his cage, my bad. Back on the leash you go.” Eijirou reached for Katsuki again.
Katsuki pulled a Neo move and defied gravity, narrowly avoiding Eijirou’s hand. “Fuck no. Get your gross dick hands off me.”
“Alright you two,” Yagi laughed, appearing like a father whose passion was his children as he clapped Katsuki and Eijirou on the shoulder and kept them apart. “You can play with Bakugou after the match.”
The interaction between Yagi and Katsuki, with this incredulous wide-eyed look and Yagi’s lion deep rumbling laughter as Katsuki tried hard to melt his face off with his nonexistent mind powers, filled Izuku up. Like, look at these people giving Katsuki a second chance at a family.
Look at this guy who chucked rocks at old houses because the glass shattering was better than the animosity in his home.
Look at this jerk, it took him about twenty-five years to get a little less jagged, but we’re all works in progress. You got bad shit in your suitcases, don’t pretend, and it was okay for you to be this slanted photo frame. Life was about overcoming obstacles and the biggest ones were inside you.
They came a long way.
Still going up this way.
It wasn’t perfect.
It was how people got along. Steps forward.
“Oh, ha-ha. Funny, Yagi.”
“Go get dressed.”
Izuku blew him an air kiss.
Yea, he would totally berate himself later for the cringey act but he couldn’t get to Katsuki with Yagi in the way.
Izuku watched Katsuki through the fence, gut-knotting a sour sensation as both fighters took position on either side of the cage.
The Alpha Pro League functioned as a hybrid birth child of boxing and MMA. There were five rounds of two to four minutes of length where each fighter was tasked with the goal of bringing his opponent down. This might a solid K.O. If the fighter jumped to his feet under thirty seconds then the round continued. Judges wrote scores on the sidelines on technique, styles, effective strikes, grapples, etc. If the fight ended at a draw, then judges referred to the total score of each fighter and decided the winner.
APL also had the notorious rep for career-ending injuries and disabilities.
Fujimi lacked the height and girth of Katsuki but Izuku knew a smaller body didn’t suggest a weaker fighter. Plus the mean mugs he directed at Katsuki showed Fujimi had every intention on winning and taking Katsuki down a few notches.
No matter the outcome, Izuku wanted Katsuki in one solid piece and far from the ER.
Yagi stood outside the cage and talked to Katsuki as he danced on the balls of his feet and loosened his joints. Aside from the mouth guard he had popped in, he was walking into the fight with nothing but his high waist black shorts and wrapped hands and feet.
Izuku bounced his knee. Breathe, you worrywart.
Eijirou pulled out of his conversation with Bruce Willis and cupped Izuku’s ear against the clamor of voices in the stadium. “Don’t look so tense. Kitkat’s watching you.”
Izuku jolted when he checked, smiling shyly at Katsuki.
Right, his scent was loud when his emotions ran unsavory. He needed to work on that.
Katsuki and Fujimi walked to the center of the cage, a feet apart from one another as the smell of each alpha flexing overwhelmed the stadium. Nothing could’ve prepared Izuku for it. It smelled like the dry heat in L.A. with a rampage of forest fires charring the clean air. Few alpha scents could affect Izuku with his rogue status, but this shit made him want to bend bad in submission. Show off his neck and ass. Present himself well and good as an omega.
Excellent, Izuku was blessed with the unlucky combo of a hard-on with his heart in his throat.
The beta ref stood between them, unaffected by the strength of it and issued the first tap of the bell.
Fujimi made the first move, primed for the sound, and barreled his fist to Katsuki’s stomach, sending the alpha staggering with his mouth issuing out a gust of air. He leaned into the momentum, striking fast instead of hard in order to back Katsuki to the fence.
Izuku had to physically restrain himself to the chair. His rogue kicked in, slamming its body at the cage of his rib, in pain at being idle when Katsuki took hit after hit.
Yagi slapped the fence when Katsuki stumbled back into it, “Bakugou. Do not let him grapple you down!”
Katsuki’s head snapped back with the force of Fujimi driving into him. Hands slithered for the back of his knees, aiming to unbalance Katsuki, but Fujimi oversight to grapple Katsuki down left him exposed. And Katsuki free.
Katsuki folded his arm; dropped his elbow repeatedly on Fujimi’s back.
Fujimi gritted his teeth, spit drooling past his teeth as he endured the hits.
Katsuki’s right foot lift for a moment only to come back down and planet firmly into the ground long enough for Katsuki to push off it and fly his fist at Fujimi as he hopped back to recover.
The stadium swelled with noise. Claps of ‘Baku, Baku, Baku’ overlapped the boos.
“Fujimi, stop fucking wussing out!”
“Ha, nice to nice Bakugou get his ass wrecked!”
“That was close,” Eijirou breathed.
Izuku looked at him to elaborate.
“Katsuki’s bad with grapples. Fujimi doesn’t have the power but he’s insanely good with grappling. Half of his wins were from forcing a fighter to tap out.”
Izuku forced himself to swallow his nerves. “Crap.”
“Katsuki knows his play now,” he assured. “He’s just gotta keep standing for the five rounds or he’s toast.”
“I thought Katsuki was faster.”
“He is but he’s still pretty heavy for lightweight. There’s like a 15 pound difference between them.”
The round continued like that—Katsuki on the defense and Fujimi working offense as he tried to unhinged his balance. The timer ran out as neither fighters took a 30 second K.O. The APL judges looked over the score sheet, calculating the tally on the round.
Katsuki drank water and talked to Yagi.
The ref grabbed the mic. “First round goes to Fujimi.”
“Fuck,” Eijirou cursed, then jogged past the guards to smack the fence.
Katsuki squatted, listening, then smirked in response to Eijirou.
Eijirou returned to his seat. “What did you tell him?”
“Same thing Yagi did. I think Fujimi’s two strategies are to pin Katsuki or beat him technique-wise.”
“So why didn’t he just, you know, knock him out?”
“Oh, well, he did get a little messed up. Katsuki isn’t invincible,” he laughed. “Fighting’s a lot slower and messy than movies... Are you okay?”
“I really want to be in there,” Izuku admitted.
The bell rang out.
The audience broke away from their side conversations and focused back on the approaching fighters. Fujimi charged swift, fists halfway to his chin. Katsuki moved slower ,and Izuku wanted to scream for him to get his ass in gear and kick alpha butt, when the reasoning behind Katsuki’s slug movements came to action.
Katsuki sidestepped Fujimi at the last minute, dodging under the length of his extended arm, then locked his arms like a snake around Fujimi’s neck and jabbed his knee for the back of Fujimi’s kneecaps and threw him hard into the mat. Fujimi’s head bounced once, but he couldn’t linger in his pain for long as Katsuki drove his foot down. Fujimi rolled to the side, went on his knee, and swiped out his leg.
Katsuki’s leg went out under from him and he was on his back.
Eijirou and Izuku stood up, yelling with the crowd. “Get up!”
Seeing the opening, Fujimi slid across the floor on his knees and got ahold of Katsuki, manhandling his jerking body into a grapple but Katsuki snapped his calves tight around Fujimi’s waist with the strength of a boa constrictor and head-butted him.
Fujimi crashed back, body falling limp on the floor, eyes closed. The jumbo screen zoomed in on Fujimi’s face as a track of blood oozed from his hairline
Katsuki hopped to his feet and paced the ring, his gait slightly sluggish from the literal head-on collision. Blood smeared his forehead; Izuku couldn’t tell if it was Fujimi’s or his. The crowd waited as the ref started counting down.
Katsuki stumbled against the fence, fingers linked through the notches as he blinked sweat out his eyes. He shook his head like a wet dog.
Yagi tapped the fence, trying to get Katsuki’s focus.
“29…30…Fujimi’s out. Round two to Bakugou.”
Izuku shouted, out of his seat again, high off the relief. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby!”
Eijirou laughed, clapping Izuku as he sat down. “Dude that was manly as fuck!”
The match entered a brief intermission as paramedics looked over both fighters.
One flashed a light in Katsuki’s eye and had him tracking a finger. Yagi hovered close and touched Katsuki fatherly on his heavy back.
Though Izuku couldn’t see Katsuki’s face perfectly, he recognized the white of his cocky smirk. It helped the pounding in his chest.
Fujimi received the same treatment, drinking water and wincing at the antiseptic dabbed to the gash hidden along his hairline.
The third round started after both fighters were cleared to continue and the round went to Fujimi who managed Katsuki into an unrelenting grapple and even with his face red with the lack of oxygen and his strength swiftly crumbling from the forearm cut into his windpipe, Katsuki didn’t tap out. Waited. Gasped. Brought Izuku to tears cause it was so awful to see Katsuki choke for air. Then blacked out in the ring.
Izuku pressed his mouth to his coiled fists, shutting down the rogue when the paramedics rushed back into the ring and tapped Katsuki on the cheek. His heart just about stopped when he didn’t respond immediately. The first wave of air out his mouth was brutal, like someone unsheathing a blade they impaled down his throat.
Eijirou talked him back into the valley of calm. “It’s okay. Did Katsuki ever tell you how he would hit his head on my bunkbed when he slept over?”
“What does that have to with this?”
“Nothing. I’m just reminding you he’s a goofball.”
Izuku laughed through his tears. “Did he really?”
“Oh yea. One time I waited until he passed out and I tickled his feet. Not only did he kick me in the face and broke my nose but he slammed his head into the bars and had to get ten stitches in his head.”
Izuku sniffed, nose red. He linked his hands so he couldn’t see them shake. “You guys are so stupid.” It was helping though, getting his brain, his omega, his heart, off Katsuki as the red in his face receded. Off the nauseating way his head lolled to the side when they propped him to the fence.
“You should hear about the time I put body oil all over my house. Katsuki ran into the door and took it off its hinges. My dad was pissed at us.”
Yagi motioned to Eijirou. “Be right back.”
He walked over.
Katsuki lifted his head and moved his mouth slow, exhaustion tethered to every part of him.
Eijirou came back a minute later.
“What?” Izuku asked.
“He told me to tell you ’to shut up’.”
“Stupid jerk,” Izuku said, waving at Katsuki, who mirrored it with the same tired energy.
Fourth round began, and Katsuki did not mess around. Didn’t allow Fujimi to move an inch forward or back before he stepped to him, stunning the alpha with his speed, which ruined Fujimi in the match because Katsuki needed a second. Just one to cock a jab back, back flexing, and popped Fujimi in the face. The snapping recoil from the punch made Izuku wince. The stands looked alive with the audience out of their chairs and howling. Fujimi righted his body from falling, shook off the pain receptors buzzing in his brain, and had enough to time to see Katsuki charging him but not enough to do something about it. Because Katsuki was already driving his knee into his stomach. The timer barely scraped a minute before Fujimi collapsed on the floor.
“Fourth round, Bakugou.”
Katsuki chugged water, then tested the range of reach in his fingers.
2 to 2.
The fifth round would decide the winner and he had faith in Katsuki’s abilities but Fujimi showed so far, despite the wide age gap, that he could compete toe to toe with Katsuki. He reserved his stamina better, avoided heavy risks, and struck when the opportunity aligned itself. Katsuki attacked with everything in him, leapt for all openings or made them himself.
But Fujimi wasn’t that young anymore and the hits were hard so his chest expanded and collapsed fast.
And Katsuki’s did too, a result of going a 100% all the time.
Katsuki pushed back his wet bangs.
Fujimi fixed his ponytail.
The jumbo screen switched back between each fighter, the camera focused on their eyes, dark and beastly. All alpha. Nothing but the alpha. Security whispered into their mics and they shuffled within walking distance of the ring. Preemptive, probably, some alphas couldn’t walk the road back to themselves. Got lost in the world of power and strength. One guard traced the frame of his Taser gun.
It smelled like the entire world caught a flame.
Come on, Katsuki.
You can do this.
Bring it home.
The ref showed some hesitation this time as he stepped in between the two alphas. “Final round,” he said,
Fujimi did, as well.
They’re cautious, now.
Their alphas trained to sniff out a plan and not blindly maul out.
Katsuki lifted his heavy hands, brought them to eye level, loosened his legs to move quick. Izuku recognized the stance—Katsuki was planning for a one punch K.O. He went alpha for the power to do that and he didn’t plan to waste it for the impulsive need to pummel Fujimi’s condescending face in at the ring of the bell.
Fujimi circled him, aware of it, and waited to the leak in his guard. Let Katsuki make the opening for him, which he did—took a running charge, launched off the ground, and soared down with his fist raised.
Fujimi rolled, got behind Katsuki, and wrapped his arms around his waist and brought Katsuki from standing to the ground.
Katsuki choked on impact, mouth opened and spit flying.
Fujimi tangled his legs over Katsuki’s, and braced his forearm right under his chin while he cupped the back of his head. Tightened it.
Katsuki tried bucking off the hold and Fujimi answered by coiling tighter.
Izuku clapped his hands over his mouth.
“Katsuki,” he shouted before it he realized that he was running up at the ring and facing one pissed off security guard. “Don’t lose.”
Could barely see over the mountain that was buff security guard number one, but Katsuki was extending one arm forward. Coiled a fist, cocked it back, elbow connecting solidly into Fujimi’s ribs. Brought it down again and again with his vision receding. Fujimi’s grip loosened on the fifth strike.
Katsuki bucked out and treated Fujimi to the same treatment and planted his heavy body on his hips and pounded on him until the bandages over his finger turned wet with sweat and blood. With his arms rippling with each hit. With his hair flying over his eyes. With the stadium lights glaring off the sheen of sweat down his back. When Fujimi’s head lolled to the side like a wet rag, Katsuki stood up.
Found Izuku in the crowd as the ref slid on his knees and started counting down.
“Katsuki Bakugou is the winner!”
The crowd cheered.
The announcers about piss themselves with excitement as the rattled on about the outcome.
“And another win for Bakugou. Yagi knows how to train them.”
“You’re right, Jim. And I’m pretty sure we have a second ‘All Might’ in the making here.”
“Thanks,” Katsuki said as he roped Izuku into wet hug outside the ring.
People flooded them.
The security guard warding him off a minute ago, fended off the reporters.
Izuku ignored the media shooting for them. “For what?”
“Heard you,” he said, privately. “Told you, you’re loud.”
Izuku wanted the jury to know he fought Katsuki about going to the after party, straightened his back, puffed out his chest, growled out in a voice that bordered alpha and had Katsuki blinking back arousal and not fury from it. I do this every time I fight, Katsuki had said, which was a mistake because it drove his anger up the wall.
They settled on the following conditions as Izuku sat on the toilet seat of the penthouse while Katsuki washed off the sweat. The glass fogged up but Izuku could easily outline his body. The round swell of his ass. That cruel dip in his spine. His bugling arms. His flaccid cock dangling between his wide thighs…uh
Oh yea, rules!
So, Katsuki could have his lame after party if he: didn’t drink heavily, didn’t smoke weed, took it slow with his body, and made Izuku aware the second he felt woozy.
Izuku eyed Katsuki as he left the open bar with a bottle. A healthy bruise purpled around his throat from the fight. Katsuki had the gift of looking rugged and handsome with bruises and cuts. Not that Izuku was any more forgiving about it, it still made him upset, but it had an appeal.
“What?” He asked, and yea, in addition to the rugged looks Katsuki’s voice made one long trip to the center of the earth and got comfy with its hot core.
So, obviously, Izuku was having trouble being the responsible one and doting parentally on Katsuki’s injuries when Katsuki walked, looked, and talked like sex on a stick. More so than usual.
Izuku pointed at his eyes, then to Katsuki threateningly. Be a good boyfriend and make him feel awful for making you worry like that.
Katsuki repeated it, mockingly like the little kid he was. “I’m not driving.”
“Still. You blacked out.”
“Yeah. That’s how it works when you fight.”
“I’m just worried about you,” he confessed. The fight was different when the person you cared about endured the hits, bled fresh blood on the floor, went limp as a noodle in a choke hold.
Katsuki flicked his ear tenderly. “Hey. Shut up. Enjoy this with me. That jackass is.”
They looked to Eijirou surrounded by Victoria’s Secret models. “To which the bartender said, ‘Who let the dogs out?”
The models giggled, tall and so elegant in radiant skin tight dresses.
“I don’t know anyone.”
“That’s Bruce Willis,” Katsuki pointed off, listing off a dozen or so famous face Izuku had watched on screen.
“I can’t talk to famous people,” he whispered.
“But I’m famous.”
“You’re you so it doesn’t count.”
“…Did you just say I’m not famous? Look, drink this. Don’t wallflower too much. I gotta make sure Eijirou doesn’t fucking embarrass us again.”
“DJ! Play some McHammer in this mother!”
“Like fucking clockwork—hey, Stevie Wonder, fuck off the mic!”
Katsuki yanked the mic out of Eijirou’s hand and walked him to the balcony for fresh air.
Yagi chatted comfortably with a female fighter, a title he only assumed based on how tight and sculpted her arms and torso looked in her black dress. Well she certainly didn’t look old; she wore her age with her simple makeup and posh movements. A woman who grew past the petty problems that troubled young women. They’re definitely good friends with the way their laughter nearly surpassed the music from the speakers. Mezo sat with them, listening in mostly and chiming in on occasion.
Izuku tipped his beer back, then realized he finished it as he watched the room. He left it on the table and went to the bar for something stronger and sweeter to detangle the gross knot in his stomach. Everyone here had a name. Izuku and a few lovely trophy spouses occupied dark zone from the bright glow of celebs.
He was still learning to operate in this new world.
The bartender slid him his drink. Izuku drank it there in case he might need another.
A model slinked her golden arms on the bar and she was noticed fast by the bartender, but she looked at Izuku.
He looked back.
“You’re with Bakugou, right?”
Don’t tell him Katsuki had a fling with this model.
“That jerk didn’t tell us he was dating. I’m Victoria. I kinda model for Playboy, would you like to sit with us?”
Victoria smiled and pointed at the table filled with gorgeous women, all leggy, lean, and sparkly with makeup. They waved at him, begging him to come over.
The bartender glared venomously at Izuku as Victoria led him off the stool gently to the table.
“Oh my god, I’m Jasmine!”
“I can’t believe Bakugou didn’t introduce you to us,” one chatted.
One dark-skinned model laughed. “Sorry but if you were my boyfriend, I would not introduce you to a bunch of models.”
“Your eyes are so pretty, by the way!” A model with a pixie cut fawned dramatically.
“This might be a little forward but your curls are so perfect, what product do you use on yours? See cause mine frizzes out so bad after the shower.”
Suddenly, that big old, nasty knot—presto, gone!
The models laughed at Izuku finished up, “Yea, so we basically yelled at each other until we kinda try to kiss each other. It was embarrassing. But nice, you know.” He shrugged.
“That’s so like him though.”
“How do you guys know him?” He asked Naomi.
“Oh, he modeled with us. He was so bad, don’t tell him that I told you,” she said.
Dani giggled into her glass of champagne. “He didn’t know how to pose. Poor guy, he was so stiff.”
Tanisha nodded. “But we whipped him into shape. Now, he’s good. Your welcome, world.”
Katsuki interrupted. “What are you guys telling him? Don’t be spreading bullshit about me.”
“Oh nothing,” Monica lied, fluttering her lashes.
“Izuku, come on.” He motioned.
“Nope, we’re keeping him.”
“Yea. He’s our boyfriend now. That’s what you get for leaving this cutie alone.”
Izuku smiled. “I should probably go, ladies.”
“Izuku, we love you!”
“Thank you for keeping me company,” he said.
“You take good care of him, Bakugou, or we’ll beat you up.”
Katsuki barked, taking Izuku’s hand. “The fuck, mind your own business.”
Izuku waved as they walked off, leaving the noise of the party for the quiet of a hall. The bass boomed dully in the distant. A few people clicked their expensive shoes drunkenly down the hall and giggled to each other.
Izuku didn’t think to ask their destination, just happy to have Katsuki’s hand again and privacy, though he started to wonder when Katsuki shut them in a master bathroom with marble floors and countertops and gold trim.
“Okay. The bathroom is nice but why are we—“ He turned, gaping at the gaudiness of the bathroom, until he heard the slide of the lock. “Katsuki, are you planning nasty stuff again?”
He pushed off the door, hands in his pockets. “Maybe,” he said, eyeing Izuku up like a meal.
Izuku backed into the counter, gripped it for support that he definitely needed right now with the way Katsuki’s was clouding up the room with his scent, the way his gait was heavy and cool, the way his low voice rasped up Izuku’s spine like a chill. “How are you horny after that fight? Seriously, you’re not aching or anything.”
“I’m aching.” Katsuki caged him, nosed his neck, pressed his hips into Izuku’s. Let him get a good feel of his hard cock. “Here.”
Izuku moaned. “But the party.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Don’t wanna wait all night for you. Not with you in that fucking suit.”
“You like my clothes?”
“Hell yea.” Katsuki yanked on the tie, rolled it around his fist, and led Izuku to him. Slotted their lips with a slow passion. Izuku’s lungs filled with fire; if he ever wondered how it was to kiss a dragon then he had the answer to that curiosity.
Their lips smacked back, met, receded. Back and forth. Some people weren’t skilled kissers and moved straight on to the sex and that wasn’t the case with Katsuki. Could work Izuku up like a small bonfire. Could have Izuku sizzling in his body like an inferno.
The vast bathroom played back the wet pop of their kisses. He about K.O. when Katsuki gave a little groan against his mouth. The same hands that obliterated fighters were snatching him up like he might slip in between his fingers.
“My daddy bought them for me.” He said that. Somehow his mouth got the swell idea to let that collection of words fly out his sloppy mouth and he could die right now.
Katsuki Bakugou had a daddy kink, and Izuku was very into that fact. Like, come on, the absolute hammer of heat in his gut was a reaction to the charcoal black nature of Katsuki’s voice, the white-hot way he watched Izuku, his hands bruised hot on his hips as they encouraged Izuku to rock froward against his cock.
“I called you ‘daddy’,” Izuku gasped, horny from the hard curve of Katsuki and still about, maybe, 15% mortified that he said ‘daddy’ twice. The other 85% were so on broad. “…I’m burning in hell.”
“I’m literally too hard to care. Deku, I want you. Wanna fuck you. Wanna eat your ass. Wanna have everyone out there know you’re sitting on my cock. Fuck, your alpha needs you, omega.”
Yup, going to hell because Izuku’s natural response to public sex was— “Ah. Okay. Fuck me.”
Just sure, yup.
Put it in.
I left my morals in my other bag back at home so…
And Izuku was pure trash.
Just a gross, hot mess of a person because the first instinct in his mind when Katsuki flipped him around, hips to the counter and red face to the large mirror, was to arch his ass out and breathe out the heat curling like a drug in his body.
He offered up more noises when his underwear and pants rushed down his legs and pooled on the marble floor. Knew he looked awful now—actually he had cold, hard facts staring back at him in the mirror. Saw his wrinkled shirt hanging just a little below his navel, covering the base of his cock. Saw Katsuki looking over him in the mirror, eyes hot where Izuku’s slick glossed warmly down the back of his thigh.
Saw Katsuki for another minute before he vanished in the mirror.
And Izuku went to school, had a reasonable 3.5, framed an impressive degree in his room so he should know exactly where and what Katsuki planned to do. Like he wasn’t knitting on the floor that was for sure, but somehow the hands spreading his ass and the hot tongue dragging flat and languid over his hole still surprised him.
Izuku was this close to cracking his own head into the marble countertop. He stopped in time, bent over, ass out more so, and said, still surprised. “K-Katsuki.”
Still all like he’s licking me.
He’s on his knees and licking my ass.
He’s going to fuck me with his tongue
Like, Katsuki did say it.
Izuku was given a verbal warning so he had no excuse to be crying on the marble like it wasn’t exactly what he wanted right now.
Katsuki groaned. Guessed he liked Izuku sobbing and being a total mess. Made an mmm sound and buried his tongue far up his ass.
“Katsuki, Katsuki. Baby, ah, please. L-like that, please. It’s, ha, it’s so good. I want it, alpha. Want it.”
Katsuki pulled back, caught his breath, and laughed something deep and terrible. “You got freckles on your ass.”
“Are you really stopping for that?”
Katsuki kissed his ass.
Yes, people, Katsuki put his hot mouth to his cheek and kissed; and if 15-year-old Izuku had any idea that one day in the future Katsuki would kiss his ass then high school would’ve been a breeze.
“It’s hot.” Fingers prodded his ass, presumably marking off his freckles. Izuku suffered in silence, still hot and wet in his ass, still long and hard in his cock. “It makes me fucking hard. Everything about you makes me so hard.”
“Like your thighs,” he hummed. “Damn. Wanna stick my dick there and fuck dem, you know. Bite the shit outta you. Cum right on you.”
“How is any of this fair to me?”
Katsuki slapped his ass. Izuku whined, pitching forward, and subconsciously going on his tippy toes. “Are you complaining over there?”
“You’re so mean.”
“Mean? You got no idea, Deku. No idea how mean I’m gonna be to you. What I’m gonna do to you right here.”
Again, how was that fair exactly?
To have him, a little wet, hard, and vibrating with his blood traded in for liquid gold.
Katsuki pulled his ass cheeks apart again, and Izuku started thanking the Lord for blessing Katsuki with a big mouth as he blew a breath of wet air on him and started mapping those glossy trails of slick with his tongue. Down the crack to his balls until the area was clean and then decided since he was in the area and Izuku’s balls were right there, to take them into his mouth. Izuku’s peaceful little world went nuclear.
He reached under himself, and pumped his cock to the rhythm of Katsuki’s tongue.
Katsuki pulled off with a gentle nip, laughed with a coarse timber and watched in between Izuku’s legs. Probably feeling good about himself that Izuku was that bad he had to get creative and stroke his dick. “That’s hot.”
“Oh my god,” he drooled on the expensive marble. Someone paid a ludicrous amount of money to glamor up this bathroom like a mini palace and Izuku had his spit on it, had his hard cock twitching and leaking pre-cum, had his pants at his ankle and his skin itching to be touched. “Just.” He smooshed his cheek on the counter. “ Please. Do stuff to me.”
“Stuff,” Katsuki mumbled as he dragged his tongue up the back of his thigh. “What kinda of stuff, huh?
“You’re being an asshole on purpose.”
And it worked, of course.
Izuku liked douche alphas with apple candy red eyes, muscled bodies, and an ego large enough to sink the Titanic.
“Yea. Cause I’m pretty sure I’ll cum the second I get my dick in you.”
Izuku used both hands to get him horizontal, standing straight so he could look back and down at Katsuki. “How do you think I feel? I said fuck me, so fuck me. Do you have a condom?”
Katsuki slipped one out of his pocket and did have the decency to look mildly sheepish about it.
Izuku turned around, knelt, and untied his shoes so he could hop on the counter and kick off his clothes. “Oh, did you think you were getting lucky?”
“I mean, I did win so…” That was all the effort Katsuki planned to put into that sentence as the majority of his brain devoted itself to the way Izuku leaned back on the mirror and opened his legs.
“Come here, Mr. Winner.”
Katsuki tripped on the first attempt, but got between Izuku’s legs on the second.
“You said you wanted everyone to hear me, right?”
His throat bobbed. “Yea.”
“You said you wanted me, right?”
“Show me.” Izuku pressed the flat of his foot on his chest, lowered it, and rubbed his cock. Liked how the little dry rub made Katsuki shiver. “Take your dick out.”
Katsuki unzipped, hissing as he grabbed his cock. Showed him it with a pitiful heat. “Izuku.”
“I don’t think you’ll fit, baby,” he purred, picking up his body from where he slouched it. “How are we gonna fix that?”
Katsuki tried to kiss him but Izuku dodged it, bringing his mouth close just to tease Katsuki.
“I want your mouth and your fingers, Katsuki. Okay?”
He nodded, then took to his knees again.
Izuku cradled his jaw, pressed his thumb to his lips until Katsuki got the message and opened his mouth, knowing without Izuku saying it to suck his cock and work his fingers in his ass. Izuku slouched back again, hiked his legs over Katsuki’s shoulders, and looked when the pleasure wasn’t too strong at Katsuki bobbing up and down his cock. Lips red, one hand twisting at the base, and looking like he could stay the whole night treating Izuku like a lollipop.
Izuku reached down and pulled on his hair, gasping when Katsuki growled and wave of heat sliced into him as he opened his eyes. “Katsuki. So good, baby.”
Katsuki watched him, pulling off his dick and holding him hard at the base, and rolled his tongue flat to the tip. Combined that with two fingers pumping inside him.
Izuku squirmed , shifting his feet to the counter to push back on his fingers. “Fuck. Baby.”
“You liking it, Deku?”
“Yes. I like it, baby. Like your mouth, ah.”
“Fucking wet as hell down here,” Katsuki rasped like Izuku needed the play by play, head tilting to the side as he looked between his legs where he was fingering him. “So damn wet. Damn pretty. Fuck.”
“’S good, Katsuki. ‘M good, please.”
Katsuki helped him down the counter.
And Izuku and standing, they didn’t agree with each other as his feet touched the floor so he stumbled right into Katsuki. He might’ve felt embarrassed about it any other time when he didn’t have Katsuki bending him over the counter, his mouth kissing up the back of his neck; the room drenched in gasoline.
Katsuki breathed out his mouth, hitting the back of his neck. Unfairly loud and just—unholy. Mouth breathing shouldn’t be this outrageously hot. “Izuku. Gonna fuck you now, okay?”
Heat shivered over his skin. His toes curled. “Please, baby.”
He kissed his neck. “Be right back. Don’t move.”
Ha, ‘don’t move’.
Did he forget his sad attempt at standing?
Cause Izuku could physically do nothing more than take dick currently, so no fear there, Izuku’s plans were to be here and be destroyed by his super dorky, super cocky, supermodel pretty alpha boyfriend. Who just laid out a veteran alpha about two hours ago and still had the stamina and the strength to fuck Izuku into the great beyond.
Izuku peeked over his shoulder, bit his lip as Katsuki worked the condom over his swollen dick, and put his flushed face back on the cool surface.
Katsuki’s bodyweight pressed down on him again. “I’m back,” he mumbled into his ear.
He laughed, the sound breathy. “Missed you.”
“Yea, baby. I want you.”
“Breathe,” he warned, lining the fat head of his cock to Izuku’s hole. “I’m big.”
Izuku tried to laugh it off. Typical Katsuki. But, the blunt heat, the hard pressure, the slow— like sand in an hourglass passage of time slow— stretch. “Be quiet, you jerk—ah, Katsuki.”
“Fuck. Told you”
Izuku practically clawed at the smooth surface, feeling that deep belly ache being filled. Gradually, though. Slow because Katsuki at least had some self-control unlike him, who was about, let’s see, a second away from putting Katsuki on his back and sitting him deep inside his ass.
Danced on the balls of his feet, rocked his hips back, gained a blissful inch and basked in it. Unashamed. Moaning out for the party to hear. Who cared; Izuku was getting treated. “Ah. Please. Don’t stop. Don’t’ stop. Don’t—ah, yes.”
“S-shit. Calm down.”
Oh, just, calm down?
Just like that?
Uh, how about a hard N.O.
Izuku turned his head, reached his hand back, and filled with Katsuki’s ass. “No.” He squeezed, grip encouraging Katsuki to push his cock in deeper in a gasping moan until he bottomed out. “Fuck. Me.”
That garnered an unexpected response from Katsuki. He stared, sucked in a loud breath, and growled out. “You’re so fucking perfect. So god damn right.”
It sounded sincere. They’re together. Clearly, Katsuki thought mighty fondly of him and all but it wasn’t said with that heated sex talk. Okay, it was. But also, not. More of a private thought Katsuki had in his head and accidentally spat out with his senses zeroed in on one part.
His eyes thought about stinging.
His heart thought about saying it back—you’re perfect. All those jagged parts, Katsuki, they’re good. You’re shaped different but I can learn the shapes, just let me be there for the long haul.
And it was just like them to have these untimed intimate, bared moments of honesty. These naked human reveals right in the middle of sex and ratchet dirty talk. So like them to laugh when Katsuki was balls deep in him.
Izuku lolled his head to the side, looking with lazy lust as his curls trickled to his brows. Lazy love. “Katsuki.”
Katsuki’s palm slapped the marble. Snapped his hips in and out, Izuku’s ass bouncing with the harsh thrusts. Fucked breathy ahs out of Izuku. Worked them both until they couldn’t keep their eyes open for longer than a minute.
“God damn. Izuku.” Katsuki pressed his dick in deep, forcing Izuku to gasp and balance on his toes. Lingered there, grinding like a porn star, ass flexing and sucked sloppily on Izuku’s neck. Dug in his short nails into the side of Izuku’s thighs and started to rake them up, leaving his skin striped in red marks. “Fucking, shit, fuck. Damn pretty, damn pretty, Deku. Look at you. Fuck.”
Izuku really wanted the movement back. To be holding his weight against the counter and Katsuki but he wasn’t the trained fighter who bench pressed cars on the weekdays, so he suffered. Pleasantly, mind you, through the aggressively groping and the shallow thrusts Katsuki fed him. “Keep fucking me like that. P-please.”
“Yea?” Katsuki leaned far enough to look down between them, where his cock was framed by Izuku’s ass, but he didn’t stay there long. Got whatever fill he needed and clenched his eyes shut, plastering his heavy body ungracefully to Izuku.
“You like that, like how I feel?” Voice throaty and dark like a car engine as nipped his skin. Izuku whined, apparently really into Katsuki’s teeth as he fisted his hair and kept him there to nibble and suck.
“Love it, baby.”
One unplanned eye roll—cause Katsuki was grinding now, for fun, and for the rapid crumbling of Izuku’s good guy persona—and Izuku caught themselves in the mirror. Kind of through a blurred film with his eyes half-lidded. But there they were. Fucking in a bathroom fit for Marie Antoinette. Suits worth the price of people’s monthly income ruffled and damp from the sweat and the spit they couldn keep everywhere but in each other’s mouth. The skin of his hip peeking a little over the counter, bruised under Katsuki’s thick hand, and it really set him off. That glimpse, because they’re clothed from the waist up , and that tiny show of naked skin reminded Izuku he was getting fucked. Fucked by Katsuki. Fucked in Vegas. Fucked in a pretty bathroom. Fucked no more than eight feet away from people who names were in bold letters on a magazine.
Was getting all the hot shit in addition to Katsuki licking and humping him like Izuku was the physical equivalent of chocolate.
Katsuki eased up on hammering Izuku to the counter so he could grab the back of his thigh and hitch it over the glossy surface and—wow, okay, that. Changed. Crap. That changed everything. Izuku hung his head, living for this fantastic angle, for the fast pump of Katsuki’s cock. And they’re going faster now. Way, way fast. Like hyper speed and Izuku could hear the smack of their skin hitting rapidly. Could see himself hunched over in the mirror, taking it. Could see Katsuki sucking on his lips, giving it.
“Let them hear. Wanna have everyone know I’m taking care of you good, Izuku.”
Izuku couldn’t escape. Not with the way Katsuki pressed up behind him, mouth on his neck like it had no better place to be and hands gripped hard. Hard to keep Izuku locked between his cock and the bathroom counter; and just between us real quick—Izuku had no intention of escaping. Would stay nice and quiet—eh, not too quiet—rocking hot on Katsuki and whenever he wanted to push him against. Books. Walls. A bed. A car. Public property. He was admittedly not picky.
Izuku laughed with the sheets pulled to his chin. “I can’t believe we did that.”
“Can’t believe you have a daddy kink,” Katsuki snorted.
“You got turned on!”
He shook his head, sighing with happiness and the soft dread of the return home. Back to regular life. To be fair, it was where he fit best but it was an adventure to be this place. “We gotta go back tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I was,” Izuku dropped his eyes and started tracking the satin sheets. The dark of the night seemed a good place for honesty. “…scared about us.”
“Same. I thought…” He twisted his lips in uncertainty as he worked the right words in his mind. “Fuck it’s dumb,” Katsuki scrubbed his face. Still working, Izuku wouldn’t mind normally but his stomach knotted sour. “But I thought if I showed you that…I can take care of you that you wouldn’t change your mind.”
Oh…the knotting went away. A drowning warmth filled him completely.
Izuku went on his elbow, trying to see Katsuki’s eyes in the dark. He caught the red of them in the light of the strip before Katsuki glared elsewhere. “You thought I would leave you?”
He picked at the seam of the sheets and gave a tiny shrug to his shoulders that chip Izuku’s heart. This week trip…he wanted to prove himself to Izuku. He went this great length, spent this absurd money, dolled Izuku up in the finest things—just to keep him.
He wanted this.
Just as bad as him.
They were two idiots who wanted things to last. Two idiots trying to act like big cool guys to the other, to show they were the right choice. I fit. You fit.
“At some point,” he said.
“I can’t predict the future but I want this. I want you and the money doesn’t matter. It never will matter to me. I feel…like I feel maybe, I should be here. Maybe this is right. Maybe we’re not stupid.”
Katsuki laughed, rubbing his watery eyes. “Fuck…You know,” he cleared his throat of a telling quiver, “I had these fucking…crazy ass sex dreams about you. Like every damn night.”
“Yea.” He hummed.
“Katsuki, I had sex dreams too.”
“I fucking bet,” he smirked under an arm thrown over his eyes.
“No,” Izuku said, serious. “I mean detailed sex dreams.”
Katsuki moved his arm. “…Did you call me extra in one of them?”
No f-ing way.
What kind of Lake House bull honkey was this?
“Wait. Wait. Wait a dang minute here, hold all the horses and just wait— we were fucking each other this whole time?! Katsuki, do not laugh at this. What does this mean? I’m concerned. We should—”
Katsuki kissed him silent, then cradled his jaw, eyes seeing something Izuku couldn’t as he stared at him a hundred feet in the dark sky and under the colorful lights of a city that banked on gambles and high stakes. On gluttony and lust. On the daring and the reckless.
His eyes moved over his face, taking everything in. “Maybe we’re not so fucking stupid after all.”
“You are,” he said, because this jerk was making Izuku believe in a lot of silly things he labeled as fabricated lies produced by the media, by the movie industry, by novels and love songs. True mates and love at first sight were make believe like dragons and fast internet…right? “Big old, stupid donut dork.”
Izuku stepped into the bathroom once his mother drove off to work. It wasn’t empty and had a sexy shadowy silhouette behind the curtain. Izuku drew it back and startled Katsuki.
“What the fuck,” he cursed, fingers deep in his hair soaping it up with bubbles. “This is in use.”
“But I want to shower too,” Izuku said, undressing and hard already.
Katsuki looked over him at the door.
“She left,” Izuku answered as he balled his shirt. He felt needy when Katsuki dragged his eyes down to his twitching cock.
“Fuck me,” he said, in disbelief like he hadn’t seen Izuku wet and hot for him, like they hadn’t done this countless times, like Izuku could still make his breath stop time after time.
Izuku hopped on one foot, trying to get out of his briefs, hot for Katsuki as water ran in rivulets down his hard chest and thick thighs. Both failed to take notice of his mother’s work lanyard dangling on the light fixture over the sink.
So they were all in for a surprise when Inko quiet steps re-entered the house and took the stairs to the third floor and found Izuku and Katsuki in….ahem, incriminating—his mom caught him sucking dick, there.
She politely suggested maybe locking the door next time even if no one was home. You know, just to be on the safe side and not instill the imagery of her son and her sort of son behaving as two grown consenting adults with a healthy and perfectly active sex life and—
Izuku, you shouldn’t feel bad about blowing a guy. It’s good to have regular sex. Once the sex stops then you should be worried and you’re young and if you feel good doing that then— Katsuki, stop laughing or I’ll ban you from this house.
So, sex was off limits at his house.
Maybe some fondling but no under the clothes action.
“I’ll be quiet,” Katsuki groaned into his ear. His mom went to bed an hour ago, and it was just them in the living room with the TV on low. “I want to fuck you so bad. Fuck, gotta be in you. Gotta feel you squeezing my cock. Fucking dying, Deku.”
Good thing, Katsuki lived alone and could pin Izuku like a photo frame to the wall and fuck him hard enough to lose his security deposit from the crack in the drywall.
“Kacchan,” he moaned, pants gone, and being done like an last-minute assignment. His head whipped hard into the wall from Katsuki’s thrust. Several parts of him would be throbbing tomorrow morning.
“Izuku, Izuku, Izuku.”
“Hey, Kacchan!” Izuku hollered, standing on the step ladder as he wiggled a box off the top shelf .
“There’s another box. Come check it so I can know if you want it going to goodwill or not.”
Katsuki’s heavy steps echoed in the empty apartment. His face hit a somber note when he saw the decaying old cardboard box. “What?” Izuku asked.
“That’s…I forgot about…Shit.”
“My mom gave me that before I moved to Vegas.”
Katsuki was young again in that instant. Young, heartbroken, with hands empty and soul chipped. “Don’t know,” he muttered. He angled his body away like staring at the box too long would yank him to the past. “Didn’t check cause I was training and shit and after everything, I didn’t want to fucking bother with it.”
“We can wait.”
He bristled, aggressively scratching his scalp as his emotions crawled over his skin like angry ants. “It’s probably dumb shit anyway.”
“Hey, listen to me, big guy. It’s not dumb, okay? It’s fine to take it slow. There’s no rush.”
“Can you…check it first?”
“Sure, baby… Well, well, looks like we have a Batman action figure with one bat ear chewed off. Care to explain?” Izuku positioned the toy accusingly in his direction, tapping at the nibbled on bat ear.
Katsuki took the figure, touching the old plastic with a distance in his eyes. “I used to chew on my toys.”
“I’m not surprised by that….What else…oh my god.” He untangled the prehistoric Gameboy from a coil of black wires. “You had the Gameboy Color? Jerk.”
“Oh, yeah…some kid tried to kick my ass for it in fourth grade. James? Jim?”
“Jacob Bishop,” Izuku said, turning it over to the back where the handheld game was labeled ‘KATSUKI’ in bold permanent black marker. “He was a sixth grader. I think you broke his nose. It’s still crooked.”
Katsuki barked. “Yea. Fucking got chewed out by my parents. And the school. They tried to make me see a social worker.”
“Troublemaker,” Izuku scolded, then went back sorting through Katsuki’s childhood memories. “Your mom gave you your report card, why?”
“It’s cause I got an A. See.” He pointed to the handwritten A in his fourth quarter for science.
“Your mom is hilarious,” he laughed, and flipped through the report.
Katsuki’s mouth quirked into a brief achy smile.“…Yeah.”
Izuku touched his forearm. “Sorry.”
“No…it less shitty like this. Kinda.”
“Alright.” He squeezed his hand, kissed the callouses of his big knuckles, and lifted the next memento. The back had the Kodak watermark; flipped it over. “Oh. Oh. My heart.”
“What?” Katsuki plucked it out of his hand, and groaned. ”...Fuck, no.”
Izuku snatched it back, smiling widely to himself as he traced the photo of Katsuki and his mother with Santa. He looked to be about six in it, in a Batman sweater, with his two front teeth missing and cheeks pink from the frost of winter. His mother was the mirror image of Katsuki—blonde, the same sharp cheekbones, honey red eyes, and a smile platinum white.
Izuku’s finger smoothed over the glossy photograph. “You’re sitting on Santa’s lap. I’m keeping this. This is going on the wall. I don’t care what you say. Look at you...Santa had no idea what a little shit you were.”
“No!” He clutched it protectively to his chest. “You guys look so cute.”
“She was big on photos with Santa,” Katsuki said, the words more direct to himself than Izuku like he was narrating the dusty memories of his mother. “Every year. My dad didn’t go with us. Wasn’t big on it.”
Katsuki spoke after a wealth of silence that Izuku didn’t dare to disturb. “I miss her.” It was said in this heart clenching honesty. This bare-bones way. The way kids talked.
“Kacchan.” Izuku looked up to find a shimmer in his eyes, the bare window exposing his emotions.
“I want her back so bad sometimes…I just…want some more time.”
Katsuki sniffed. “Fuck.”
Izuku set the box aside, took his alpha in, and hugged him through it. As the worst seemed to pass, Izuku kissed his cheek, and said softly. “She would be so proud…to see you take that grumpy stick out of your big alpha booty.”
Katsuki shivered, with wet laughs. “God. Fucking god. Glad you’re here for this shit cause I fucking can’t do this shit.”
Now he felt like crying. “Always gonna be here, Kacchan. I’ll keep you balanced, alpha.”
Katsuki rapped his knuckles on the door and waited on the steps long enough to consider hiking it back to his car and running away from it all. His hand coiled around the bouquet of flowers. Before Katsuki could follow through on his doubts, the door opened.
His dad stood speechless. “Katsuki…” He gaped. “What are you doing here?”
Katsuki swallowed, found his voice, and cleared his throat with a grunt. “What, no ‘hi’.”
“No. It’s just been a while. I’m,” His dad extended an arm, a gesture to pull Katsuki in for a hug, but he canceled it out at the last minute and scratched his beard, playing it off. “…happy to see you. I saw your fight a few months back.”
“Yeah.” His dad slid his hands into his pockets and leaned on the door frame. “ You did your old man proud.”
Time had passed them both—aged his dad, added crow’s feet and laugh lines, minus out the wide strength in his shoulders. It came with s scary dawning; he’s getting old.
He’s going to go too.
One day it will just be me.
But, fuck, there’s still some time, right?
There’s time and I shouldn’t fuck it up again.
“And you’re settling with Inko’s boy, I hear,” he said, looking proud.
“Yea. He’s, uh, he’s good. Real good.”
“I know he’s got a good head on his shoulders. You could use that,” he laughed at first, aiming to provide some levity to the pressure on them, but he blurted out. “I’m sorry that came out wrong—“
“I wanted to see if you would want…to visit mom…then get a bite after or something. Unless you don’t got time.”
His dad smiled, slow and old. “I got time for you, Katsuki.”
“Cool,” Katsuki said, watching his dad lock the house and take the steps down the pathway with him.
“I hope you’ll let your old man live out his fantasy by driving that car of yours,” he joked, blinking as the clouds passed over and the sun streamed into his eyes.
Katsuki barked, twirled the ring of his keys on his index finger, and caught it in his palm. “And have you crash my shit? Your glasses are thicker than my finger.”
“So how did it go?” Izuku asked before he tipped his beer back. “With your dad and everything.”
They’re drinking cheap beer by the lake and under the moon like the cool halfway to thirty guys they were. Cool guys chilling in the woods. They’re mindful to place the finished bottles back in the case. Most people were. Even the wild teens reenacting their golden years took their trash with them at the end of it. That or they pushed through a hangover and cleaned the woods in the morning hours. You didn’t get much of that in the cities, people looking out for the community but here, yea, it was one of the pleasant things about small towns.
Izuku killed off two bottles and Katsuki still nursed his first. He drank less if he was driving. Izuku appreciated that—the little things Katsuki changed after dating him. The things to be a better alpha, a better person, a better man.
Katsuki swallowed, popped his lips off the rim, and Izuku reminded himself that Katsuki was talking. To him. Remember? Words? Question, about his dad and him? Hello, space cadet.
“Sorry, what?” He coughed.
“Were you checking me out?”
“…What, no, gross…I’m sorry.”
Katsuki breeched Izuku’s personal bubble and got personal with his mouth, humming as he pulled back. “I said it was okay.”
“Alright, it’s a little awkward.”
Izuku bumped his knee. “It’ll get there. Just give it time, you know.”
“Yea….You know I realized something.”
Izuku hummed. “What’s that?”
“We haven’t like, danced and shit. Like, together.”
“You told everyone you didn’t dance, remember, senior prom? Trisha asked for a dance and you made her cry.”
“I’m starting to think you liked my ass for a long time because only you remember all this shit. And she cried cause I said no. Not cause I was a dick or anything.”
“Of course, of course.” Izuku nodded, a smile playing indiscreetly. “Unrelated.”
“Anyway…so, yea, you down?”
“Down?” He parroted.
“To, uh, dance?”
“No, jackass. Here.”
“In the woods?”
“Shut up, and fucking dance with me before I change my mind.”
“But, we don’t have any music—“ That was when Katsuki pocketed the remote for his radio and clicked play.
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much
At long last love has arrived
And I thank God I'm alive
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off you
“You planned this?”
Katsuki hopped off the hood, set his beer by the tire, wiped his hands on his jeans, and offered it to Izuku. “Look, a guy’s gotta give their omega a dance. I didn’t dance at prom, neither did you. So here it is. Limited time offer. Get it while it’s in stock.”
He remembered that…?
Maybe all that time Izuku was looking at Katsuki, he didn’t think to check if Katsuki ever looked back.
“Oh,” he flushed, blinking up Katsuki’s strong arm.
Like, Izuku knew they’re in the woods, at the halfway point to thirty, kind of sort of in love but so tentative to say it—but he felt eighteen, on the dance floor their school rented out for the senior luncheon and prom. With the low red love-making lights, the pretty table set pieces, the three-course meals, the girls turned women in flowing dresses, the boys turned men in their sharp tuxes, every romance songs known to mankind playing on the speakers.
Felt eighteen, back in the chair alone as Tenya and Ochako danced to Mariah Carey.
But in this remake, he had a hand hovering in front of his face—Katsuki’s, grumpy but handsome even back then.
Izuku placed his bottle on the ground and took his hand, buzzing with bees in his gut as Katsuki yanked him off the car and into his chest.
“How many people asked you to prom?” Izuku asked.
“Eh, like five or something.”
“I thought the whole school wanted to date you.”
“Maybe you wanted to date me. I wasn’t that popular. How many asked you?”
Izuku lowered his eyes, shrugged as he admitted, “No one really…”
Katsuki slowed, shaking the shock from that. “The fuck. I figured you got asked out by at least ten people. You were nice. I was a douche.”
“My looks weren’t that great.”
“Yea, as a kid you look like—whoa, hey. I’m fucking with you. You’re super handsome, the fuck. Don’t be bum about it. So you didn’t get an awkward dance shuffle at prom.”
“isn’t that what we’re doing now?”
“Yes, but we get to have great sex later then snuggle so, honestly, who’s really winning here.”
“Wait, this song…Is this from ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’?”
He smiled, pushed Izuku into to spiraling, the woods dancing in circles around them, and snapped him back. Izuku’s back flushed to his chest as they swayed side to side. “Maybe.”
I love you, baby
And if it's quite alright
I need you, baby
To warm a lonely night
I love you, baby
Trust in me when I say:
Oh, pretty baby
Don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby
Let me love you
“Your dad helped you, didn’t he?” He laughed, as Katsuki lifted his arm and twirled him.
“A little bit. He knows his shit.”
Izuku kissed him on the final rotation, unable to help himself. This was infinitely better than an awkward school dance, better than a sweaty grind feast in an L.A. club. He didn’t think he would get a dance that he would look back on, but look at that. Here it was. A dance in the woods with beer bottles, oldies on the radio, and moon washing the forest floor in silver. “He does.”
Katsuki laced their fingers and put his other hand on the small of his back and led. “So you gonna put out or what?”
“Kacchan, you’re an idiot. Of course I am.”
“Now stop being gross and let’s be cute for two minutes.”
December 18, 2018
Getting into the holiday spirit with Katsuki Bakugou
It was a short clip of Katsuki, naked and buff, in front of their freshly decorated Christmas tree with a Santa’s hat over his cock as he danced to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.
Momo: Shouto , baby I know what I want for this Christmas.
Tenya: in front of the Christmas tree, Midoriya! Shame.
Ochako: In front of my salad, bish
Shouto: Might be a tight fit but I’ll try
Mina: Xmas came early
Denki: This is why I don’t go over ur place man
Minoru: WHY THE FUCK IS THIS ON MY FEED. FUCK MY LIFE.
Taylor: Dear Santa: I want this under my tree this year.
Mei: This will keep me warm at night
Minoru: Hey Mei I got a stocking stuffer too
Max: wow, no homo but ur fit as fuck dude
Eijirou: it beginning to look a lot like Xmas!
Hanta: MY EYES!!!
Neito: Jesus is looking down on u
Ashely: I literally fucked the hell out of the replay button. Good lord.
April 5, 2019
Best feeling waking up to this every morning. My perfect nerd, Izuku.
The morning peeked in from the window, washing Izuku in white glow. Naked, freckled from slope of his neck all the way down to his ass where the sheets covered him. Izuku hugged his pillow to his face, still asleep.
Izuku: OMG. I look so weird.
Katsuki: shut the fuck up, u is good. U is smart
Izuku: LMAO, stop.
Momo: Please my heart.
Mina: u guys are so adorable.
Eijirou: when can I be the flower girl???
Denki: Fine. Ur whipped as fuck dude.
Hanta: I have to wake up to my cat’s ass in my face.
Tenya: Aside from the nudity, an excellent photo!
Toga: u guys are so cute
Mei: damn, back at it again with the ass shots!!
Minoru: Can’t u post stuff with hot girls for once?
Christine: this will go perfectly with my gay fanfic, thanks.
Nikki: couple goals!!! Izuku/Katsuki FTW!!!
October 25, 2019
Say hi to our son, King, he likes belly rubs and hugs and is in love with Katsuki.
It was a photo of Katsuki and a large German Shepard resting on the sofa. King pillowed his large head on Katsuki’s chest as he snored away with the TV remote in his hand. The blanket draped over them was added by Izuku.
Ochako: spot the difference *sips tea*
Izuku: ON MY OWN PHOTO
Katsuki: who isn’t in love with me?
Katsuki: FUCK U ALL!!
Eijirou: we’re too close not to be a lil gay for each other.
Eijirou: also, reminds me of Snickers. Remember how he humped ur leg. Good times.
Shouto: love you for your body only.
Katsuki: stop answering my question, fuck u!!
Mina: fluffy dog!!
Katsuki: and it was gross. Ur dog was a hoe.
Eijirou: bruh u cried when we put him down. Shut up
Momo: omg hes so precious. Bring him over I want to pet him!
Tenya: I will volunteer to babysit whenever!
December 14, 2019
He said yes.
Izuku flashed the camera the fat diamond ring, positively red and beaming in the low romantic lights as they dined in Greece with the dark ocean rolling white hills in the background.
I never know how to end these fics so i'll keep it simple:
thanks for the support, the love, the encouragement, the comments, the asks, etc, etc. whenever i found doubt in my mind and wondered whether i have any right writing on here i remembered the kind words, the fact you guys can get a lil escape with me, that i'm doing some good (no matter how trival) with my work by moving you guys.
and i made the end a kind of snap shot of katsuki/izuku romance rather than write the scenes out individually for a symbolic sense that we're done with their story and we can be happy knowing they'll be okay without us nosing in.
I will be back with more fics, i have two in the works atm. A one shot and a possible mult chap. I posted a new fic "Black Light" a few days ago if you haven't read it but boy if you like fluff, its got plenty of it.
tumblr: pro-derp (where i'm currently sobbing over this gross fic, help)