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After the war, at the beginning of their second year, Katsuki and Izuku developed their ‘system’; a code language if you will. A way to reach out quickly to each other in times of crisis for nightmares, flashbacks, rough days, and things of that nature. Any message, regardless of length, including the spelled-out, non-acryonymized phrase “All Might’s Golden Age” meant the problem wasn’t urgent but support was appreciated, “All Might’s Silver Age” meant it was a top priority to see each other, and “All Might’s Bronze Age” meant it was the height of emergency, panic attacks, real or perceived danger. At first, only a couple people knew (Eijirou and Tenya, by way of being told; Shoto and Ochako, by way of pure nosiness), but by the time Class A was informed, they understood, and Aizawa-sensei was lenient on them about it, only scolding them if they spent too many days in a row in each other’s dorm rooms. Beyond the classroom, Izuku and Katsuki’s UA psychologists were in favor of the system as an extension of their therapy itself. So long as they kept up with training, grades, and other relationships — and showed steady improvement, which was already their track —, there was seemingly no harm in giving them an always-open line of communication. It was also a great demonstration of coping skills. Beyond that, for Izuku and Katsuki themselves, it fortified their bond, to a place almost stronger than it had been when they were in kindergarten.
The one consequence was unforeseen and unintended, only rearing its head once their third year began: Izuku and Katsuki slowly but surely stopped speaking candidly in their sessions. They were plateauing in progress, because they were leaning on each other too hard, although neither clinician knew exactly why. At Aizawa’s request, both therapists scheduled a meeting about the boys. He explained that as they approached the midterms of third year, he was concerned about how they’d ease through the transition to graduation in the face of their enmeshment. After deliberation, group therapy sessions became the sticking proposal. They’d give them a space where the system served its purpose and allow them to shake off the codependency and respond to what had now proliferated to some variant of Littermate Syndrome. They planned to start the boys with sessions twice a week, then to wane off: the ultimate goal being twice a month.
Katsuki’s therapist knew the boy she was dealing with well, conscious of his performative combativeness and the resistance this request might receive.
“You want me to fuckin’ what?” Katsuki protested in his next session.
“Once on Wednesday, once on Friday. Then, if they go well, we can bring it down just to a Friday a week.”
“Why’s that a thing now?”
“You and Midoriya are great friends,” his therapist assured. “I want to nurture that, but you might be separated after graduation, working at different agencies as sidekicks. Midoriya could be stationed in a different prefecture altogether–”
Katsuki waved his hand dismissively. “Deku and I aren't gettin’ separated.”
She knew well at this point to continue when Katsuki interrupted her. “And if he, or you, is or are sent to a different prefecture, you won’t be in close quarters anymore — like the UA dorms. The group sessions will… stabilize you, let's say, and stop you guys from feeling uprooted.”
Izuku’s therapist also had more than a bit of trouble convincing him.
“Kacchan and I talk almost every day, though?”
“Every day,” he corrected, with a straightman’s tone despite the sarcasm in the comment.
“Almost every day!” Izuku asserted pointedly. “It’s not that bad. It’s good! I missed him, and I can't say stuff like that in front of Kacchan.”
“We aren’t asking that. I imagine our first few sessions will be about your upcoming Pro Hero journeys.” Not a lie, but he and Katsuki’s therapist had agreed to bury the lede about their language.
Noting their dual apprehension, each therapist used their ace in the hole when the time was right.
“It was Aizawa-sensei’s idea.”
They waited until the last twenty minutes of the first group session to bring up their code.
“You don't have to tell us why or what you two talk about right now, we’re just suggesting…” Izuku’s therapist said, his voice light as to not spook them, “You reserve all of the times you want to use your ‘system', remember them, write them down, anything else — then bring them up in our sessions.”
Katsuki’s therapist nodded intently. “The last thing we want is for the two of you to close yourselves off. Support has to come from multiple places. We think weaning you off is the right course of action to help actualize the both of you, and make it so you’re relying on each other a little more healthily as the future approaches.”
Whether it was believable or not, Izuku and Katsuki trusted their therapists. Trusted and respected. So despite any confused looks or indignant huffs, they both agreed. They dropped the system, and their texts stopped looking so disjointed and strange.
For a time.
Katsuki especially hated to admit it, but through midterms, it was helpful. He found himself spending more time with people who weren’t Izuku (oh, the horror), and he and Izuku’s time together became more carefree. Self soothing was no longer something Katsuki did from profound stress or a sense of punishment, but something he was taking to like building a muscle.
However, by the time they were past their tenth session, there was a new, but predictable, consequence: Katsuki and Izuku were alone with themselves and their thoughts much more, which meant a seemingly endless amount of time to stew in things that were less weight-of-the-world and more teenaged-boy-coming-of-age. Izuku found himself steadily noticing more attributes about himself that he was less than happy with. In training, yes, he was still keeping up —still excelling, even—, still listening as his body weaved him naturally to through danger to save anyone. He, Katsuki, and Shoto were the big three, after all. But as the embers continued to fade, it laid bare Izuku’s lack of identity without heroics. It was the only thing he could think about almost every day, comparing himself to his adjusted classmates, exploring life even with the pressure on them to improve constantly. He grew too embarrassed, as accomplished as he was, to even imagine bringing it up in therapy, in front of Katsuki who he admired so strenuously. What would Katsuki think, to know Izuku was forsaking their rivalry for what? His own vanity? The part that he battled with over the weeks these insecurities loomed over him was the fact he simultaneously trusted no one else with this struggle more than Kacchan himself.
For Katsuki, on the other hand, the neurosis was internal, rather than external. In his personal sessions, he regularly uncovered a slew of his own insecurities. Even when she tried to steer him away from it, Katsuki spent most of second year constantly musing to his therapist about how he neglected Izuku some days —stonewalled him— or was rude to him otherwise, to say the least, in the past and sporadically in the present. It didn't matter how much she mentioned his innumerable apologies, both private and very public, both verbal and in-action, without the ability to regularly give Izuku his energy, he had trouble feeling like it was enough. He felt like he could never be sure enough that Izuku knew how sorry he truly was. It was one topic they’d never encroached beyond a solemn mention, but now, it was all Katsuki could think about. The little ways in which he was still shutting down connection. The small slights Izuku deserved further apologies for.
It went on like this for about a month, the feelings worsening, circling the drain of Izuku and Katsuki’s intertwined hearts, bubbling up until it boiled over their linked veins. And when something boiled over with those two, whatever happened next was inevitable. Unconscious. A movement of its own.
So, Katsuki sent a text.
So, Izuku sent a text.
“need to talk about all might’s silver age, you around?”
“Can we talk about All Might’s Silver Age, Kacchan?”
The unison was a miniature symphony. It was nice to feel in sync again, Katsuki thought, and Izuku thought the same.
“be at your room in five”
Izuku opened the door, running his hand back over his curls before waving at Katsuki, a tiny contained gesture that remained at his side. “Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” Katsuki returned.
Izuku sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for Katsuki to join him.
His voice was almost sweet as he flumped down across from the other boy. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll just get into it, and I know it’s, uh, silly…” You could always read what Izuku was truly feeling behind his eyes. Or at least, Katsuki could. This anxiety was different. “And I know we’re not supposed to be using the All Might stuff anymore!” Rubbing the nape of his neck, Izuku laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry to do it, and call you over for this tonight. I… I wanted to confide in someone about this– someone who knows me!”
Katsuki shifted in his seat on Izuku’s bed, crossing his legs, somewhat irritated that Deku’s nervousness was rubbing off on him.
“Spit it out, Deku,” Despite the gruffness, the concern wasn't covert.
“Well, the embers are fading faster and faster, you know? Without One For All and my training, I’m starting to wonder what else I’m going to fill my life with. Now that we’re having the sessions together and talking about what lies ahead,” He tried to mimic his therapists serious tone. “I spend all this time looking at myself and imagining what I might do after we graduate, reckoning with the idea that being a hero might not be…” Izuku’s mouth grew dry as he trailed off, meekly continuing. “I’m imagining if anyone…” Like the words were tumbling rocks, he swallowed roughly. “If anyone’s ever going to want to… be with me?”
Katsuki blinked.
“And normally, things like this don’t get to me! I didn’t think about any of it before, but then, I realized; Shoto-kun and Tenya are dating, right? Eijirou and Mina; even Ojiro finally asked Hagakure out! Now that we all have the time for it, I can’t imagine someone picking me for that. I’m so short, and that’d be one thing if I was more like Denki-kun —buildwise, I mean— but I’m stocky, and my doctors say I’m gonna be stunted forever because of our first year–”
No.
“And my eyes are too big. Doesn't help that my face is round the way it is —and my freckles are so ugly. That was bad enough before I got all these scars. People are really off put by face scars–”
No.
“Before you say it, I know they’re mostly because of my own recklessness; I guess I just don’t think before I do. My tunnel vision can get so bad sometimes. It’s annoying, I bet. I can’t even look in the mirror without remembering how hard it is to just be around me, how is anyone ever going to–”
No.
“Izuku,” Katsuki’s voice came out quieter than expected, jagged and broken, stopping Izuku’s spiral in its tracks. “Is this… my fault?”
Shocked, Izuku waved his hands in little circles in front of Katsuki, reaching out to grab his forearm. “No! Kacchan, not at all! You’re the best– I mean, I would’ve never felt so confident in One For All without you, and–”
Katsuki shook his head, nudging Izuku off of him. “I don’t mean the damn quirk, Izuku. I mean, feeling so bad about yourself. Did I, when we were kids…?’
Izuku stared for a moment, then giggled, a giggle that turned into a big laugh. Izuku was almost in stitches at the comment, making Katsuki flush in anger.
“Are you fuckin’ making fun of me?”
“No! God, no! But Kacchan, how long have you been holding onto that?”
Confused, Katsuki stammered over his own words. “I– since our first year! Since middle school! What the fuck kinda reaction is that?”
Izuku just shook his head, a light smile still on his lips. “I won’t say you didn’t have a mean streak, Kacchan,” Most people would call what I did bullying, Katsuki thought as Izuku continued. “But feeling like you were so far above me, like I couldn’t compare to you, that didn’t start because of you. It didn’t even start when you got your quirk! Kacchan’s always been amazing.”
How does that explain a damn thing?
“People were crueler to me than you ever were our whole lives. You did more to make me feel equal to you than anyone knows —than I think even you know. So my feelings about my body or myself, they’re not from you. How could they be?”
“Because I– I– fuck! The thing about your eyes, I always tell you to quit staring, or I call you bug-eyed, or— the bullshit about being annoying!”
“That’s just Kacchan being Kacchan,” Izuku said matter-of-factly. “Besides, I know what you sound like when you’re telling the truth and when you’re just acting. Isn’t Eijirou-kun your best friend? You call him annoying more than you call me annoying anymore.”
“Shitty Hair isn’t my goddamn best friend,” Katsuki huffed. “You are, idiot.” Even when Katsuki had kept Izuku at arms length, he couldn’t think of anyone else he considered his best friend in higher regard. “That’s why I’m worried about you.”
Izuku’s eyes widened, and then he dropped his head down into Katsuki’s shoulder, hitting him lightly on his chest with his fist. “Don’t be. Just hearing that you don’t want me to feel this way is enough to make me feel it a little less.”
“No, Izuku, you’re…” Katsuki grumbled and trailed off. “Nevermind. It’s whatever, nerd, just… glad you feel better.”
“I’m sorry, Kacchan! This is all about me now. What did you want to talk about?” Izuku finally lifted his head to make eye contact with Katsuki, their faces a little too close for too many (and too few) moments.
“Well I can’t fuckin’ follow you up after that, can I?” He muttered, eyes narrowed, something like embarrassment hiding behind them. “It’s nothing. I… I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what? Kacchan, I just told you—”
“No, Izuku, just let me fuckin’ finish,” Katsuki took a deep breath. “I see you, moving through class and training like the embers are still just as strong as second year, but I know they’re not. And fuck, I don’t know, I blame myself sometimes, that you gave up so much,” He didn’t know if he was really making sense anymore, cursing their proximity for making him sound exactly like Izuku at times like these. “I feel bad. And I know we’ve talked about it before, but– I wish, sometimes, that I could just trade places with you.”
Izuku’s mouth fell open a little. He started to speak, but his eyes watered instead. Classic Izuku.
“I think about middle school and how much I put you down, and now I’m hearing how you see yourself? I guess I thought you were fucking invincible, or something. It was fate for me to get this quirk, but you were chasing me, keeping up with me without one, so I was fuckin’ jealous.” It was the first time he’d verbalized it, let alone to the object of the emotion. “I felt like you were stronger than me, and then you got into UA, and I… I didn’t know what to do with myself and…” Katsuki had so many complicated feelings then, and he still did. As he was trying to find the words, chewing at his bottom lip, he realized fat tears were streaming down Izuku’s face.
“Shit, nerd, I’m sorry–”
“Stop it,” Izuku grinned, tears steady streaming as he pulled Katsuki into a tight hug. Hesitantly, Katsuki’s shaky hands rose to return it. He sunk into it, squeezing his friend close, stretching the fabric of Izuku’s shirt against his back. Izuku gave Katsuki comforting little rubs.
“Thank you.”
Katsuki sucked through his teeth. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I’m sorry you can’t see how much you’ve sacrificed for me. You’ve done so much I didn’t deserve. Of course I have to thank you.”
“Now you need to stop it.”
When they came apart again and Katsuki saw Izuku’s tearful green eyes, illuminated under the low light of his dorm room, he couldn’t help himself. He made the mistake of letting himself lift his hand, wiping them away with his thumb, fingers brushing the scarred skin under his eye, one of the only places he no longer had freckles. It was intimate, and as soon as Katsuki realized what he had done, he tried to pull away, but Izuku just held his hand there in sweet silence.
They leaned in like their heads were too heavy to hold up. They kissed like it was the one thing they’d been waiting all their lives to do.
Izuku’s eyelids fluttered closed as his hands scrambled to find somewhere to go. Katsuki just grabbed his wrists.
“Could you not be a Deku for five seconds?” Katsuki whispered against Izuku’s lips, laughing slightly.
Izuku deflated, wishing he could cover his face, now hot with embarrassment. “What else am I supposed to do when Kacchan— kisses me?!”
“Hey, shit nerd, you kissed me.”
There was a beat of silence, a shared look of adoration between the two of them.
“... Can I do it again?” Izuku muttered.
Yes. Forever.
Without hesitation, Katsuki wrapped his arms around Izuku in another embrace, their lips locking again as his hands pressed against opposite sides of his back. They adjusted so that Izuku could fit between Katsuki’s legs as the kiss progressed, passionate yet clumsy and innocent, full of warmth and years of unspoken confessions. When he let go, he was hovering atop Izuku, then swept his hands to his waist, hands teasing the hem of his shirt.
“Dumbass,” Katsuki laughed lightly. “How’s that for an answer?”
Both of them looked down, suddenly acutely aware of their dual semi-erections, making them look in disparate directions from each other. They murmured, embarrassed, before Izuku piped up with a rare stroke of courage.
“I– I can help with that,” he hurried the words out like each one was a grenade to their blossoming relationship. Graduation was a hop, skip, and a jump away, and here was the culmination of feelings left unwittingly seeded, watered, and tended. Izuku could only pray Katsuki wanted to harvest it.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Hell no.”
“No?! Kacchan, that’s so–”
“Let me do something for you first,” his smirk was plain and almost mischievous. “I said I wanted to apologize to you, didn’t I?”
Izuku bit his lip, rolling his tongue up against his teeth as Katsuki started to lift his lounge shirt over his head. It wasn’t unlike him to just move how Katsuki wanted him to move, but with this new territory he felt especially pliant. With Izuku’s arms up, Katsuki gave him a few more kisses, before starting to kiss his chin and neck.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” Katsuki murmured once he moved down, against the textured skin of Izuku’s ribs, his hard-on now evident against the plush of Izuku’s thigh. “Always been so fuckin’ gorgeous… I should be the one fuckin’ begging you to touch me, after everything I–”
Finding his voice again, Izuku shushed him, mind clouded with need, face flushed from hearing Katsuki’s candid praise. “Kacchan, you’re perfect. You’ve been– so good to me, you’ve apologized so much, in every way, I can’t– ah!” Izuku arched up to meet Katsuki’s mouth when his lips brushed his chest. “I can’t accept another, okay? Kacchan– Kacchan’s made it up to me!”
Squirming in Katsuki’s strong grip made Izuku whine, starting to knead his hands into his best friend’s shoulders as his tongue worked him up. Another soft moan slipped from his lips.
“Nah, I don’t think so, Not yet,” Katsuki continued, a hand delicately running up the length of the other’s spine. Let me apologize in one more way.
Easy, as if not to spook Izuku, Katsuki slid his body down, hands still against his sides, tucking his thumbs into Izuku’s shorts to pull them off, along his boxers. In his heart of hearts, Izuku was a little relieved that Katsuki and he had known each other so long, so he wouldn't be surprised nor turned off by Izuku’s series of Pro Hero boxers. Now nude, he gulped as Katsuki’s gaze ran all over him, unilaterally heightening his senses and disarming him fully. He took to kissing again after he’d had his fill.
Of all the complicated things Katsuki could be, Izuku knew gentle was one of them. But gentle like this, with his naked body? Hands cradling him like he was a wounded bird, light kisses peppered over his freckles and scars, the smile of fondness creeping onto his lips; Izuku couldn't take it. Flustered and lost in it, his cheeks were practically burning. When Katsuki’s kisses got a little close to his more sensitive parts, he jumped.
“Oh! Uhm, Kacchan you don’t have to– Kacchan!”
Lovingly, Katsuki’s hands moved to hold Izuku’s thighs as he kissed his dick. “Cute,” he teased. “I want to, nerd. Just relax.”
In true Katsuki Bakugou fashion, Kacchan wasted no time, taking Izuku into his mouth effortlessly, almost lovingly. Izuku’s eyes immediately rolled back at the enveloping heat. Tiny moans escaped him as Katsuki’s tongue moved along the bottom, slow and with just enough pressure to make Izuku throb in his mouth. Maybe Izuku was just in love, but his brain was going blank, even as Katsuki only moved his head slightly. How did Kacchan get so experienced? Katsuki started to suck upwards towards the tip, licking around the head before pulling off, kissing his dick sweetly again. Izuku blinked back into reality, looking down at Katsuki, whose face was plastered with a curious, shit-eating smirking.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” He chuckled, the threat falling flat entirely. “You needa fuckin’ warn me if you’re such a quickshot.”
A quickshot? Izuku tripped over his words. “I’m not! Kacchan is just doing a– a very good job.”
It was Katsuki’s turn to shush him. “I’ve never done this with some other extra, if that’s the bullshit you’re rambling about. I just decided to treat you,” Katsuki trailed off into brief mumbling. “And I wasn’t gonna make you go down on me.”
Kacchan was truly so, so amazing. “I’ll go down on Kacchan!” He stunned himself with how confidently he said it.
Izuku noticed Katsuki’s hips roll, lightly humping his bed for a few seconds. “Next time, yeah?” Before Izuku could agree, Katsuki opened his mouth again and took Izuku in to the base, nose brushing the hair trailing Izuku’s stomach. The surprise alone got Izuku there fast. He was beginning to think about how Katsuki, so dominant in day-to-day life, jumped eagerly to a more submissive position before the warmth of Kacchan’s mouth essentially sucked it out of him. Katsuki incorporated his tongue again, now along each side to the head, loose, relaxed movements before locking into a slightly stronger blowjob. As soon as started to speed up, Izuku felt himself teetering on the edge. He squirmed, bucked his hips just once before he stopped himself, shut his eyes tight and gathered the guts to grab Katsuki by the hair and pull him off before he proved that quickshot comment right. The glare he got in return scared Izuku a little, but Katsuki’s eyes didn’t read as angry so much as they read… intrigued? Maybe… aroused? Fearful, Izuku closed his eyes again anyway.
The words fell clumsily out of him one more time. “I’m really sorry, Kacchan, but I can’t take it anymore, okay? I don’t want to finish before you’ve gotten something from me…” Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me. Hesitantly, he opened one eye to see Katsuki nodding, running his hands along Izuku's frame, almost massaging him into slowing down.
“That’s okay, Izuku,” he damn-near whispered. “I don’t need anything.”
“You,” Izuku placed his hands on Katsuki’s shoulders. “Deserve something in return. I want to give you— I think, I’ve always wanted to give you a bigger part of me. Just come back up here, Kacchan.”
Another devoted gaze as both boys tried to hide their shy smiles, only interrupted by Katsuki cradling Izuku’s hips, guiding him into another, deeper kiss. Izuku draped his arms over Katsuki’s shoulders, hands then slipping down his defined back, from his shoulder blades to his spine to his obliques, brows furrowing in enjoyment at the kiss as he fumbled with Katsuki’s shorts. Suddenly, Katsuki pulled back, a low draw of breath, before asking one question — anything but simple despite how few words it was.
“You want– you mean like that?”
Unashamed, Izuku nodded. “There’s no one else I’d want to… y’know.”
Katsuki pressed a kiss to Izuku’s forehead, wanting to crush him for being so adorable. “Same, dumbass.”
“I have, um…” After this peck, Izuku shielded his face. “I have lube in the bedside table.”
Katsuki’s eyebrow cocked once more, smiling slyly. “Who knew you were a freak, huh, Deku?”
“Well, it was clearly a good investment to make, huh, Kacchan?” he mocked back, snickering as Katsuki reached, watching the stretch along his body, sturdy and reliable in every way.
The blonde held up the bottle, level with his face, expression quietly noting that it was halfway gone already.
“I can get myself ready.”
“I bet you could, freak,” Katsuki readjusted to be sitting on his knees. “But I want to.”
He wants to. Izuku hung off that phrase every time Kacchan said it. Malleable to his touch, Izuku waited patiently for Katsuki to pour the lube onto his hand, eyes wandering to his crotch every now and then, trying to size up what he was working with. With his non-sticky hand, Katsuki tucked his hand between Izuku’s thighs, being sure to brush his cock and make him jot, before pushing his legs apart. Izuku’s eyelids drooped slightly, anticipation a sibling to his pleasure, before he noticed Katsuki’s hesitation.
In the sexiest voice he could muster, he tried to encourage him, laid there expectant and almost needy. “Kacchan, you’re going to feel amazing. Kacchan’s the best, after all.”
That woke the beast, and Katsuki got right to work, circling Izuku’s rim with his middle finger then pushing in. It was velvet smooth, and Izuku’s breath hitched in his throat as Katsuki went in to the knuckle easily. Were Katsuki’s fingers always this much thicker than his? This was humiliating, and it felt incredible.
“Holy shit, Izuku,” Katsuki murmured. “So ready for me.”
Izuku wriggled, almost moving down onto Katsuki’s hand before he stopped himself again. “I–” He shut his eyes tight and whined at the way Katsuki curled his finger. “I’m ready for another!”
Without another word, Katsuki gave him what he asked for, and Izuku began coming undone at the feeling. Stopping himself from moving his hips was a level of control he now had to give up, placing that impulse in Katsuki’s hands to hold as he fingered him open. Izuku’s hand shot up to cover his mouth after his first real moan escaped. God, he probably looked like a complete mess, nose scrunched, eyes crossed, brows knotting… He tried to command his face to relax somehow. Instead of saying anything or outwardly disapproving, Katsuki teased Izuku with a third finger, beckoning him into speaking up.
Izuku moved, pressing his hands to Katsuki’s body, barely able to get out a Wait! before Katsuki pushed past his rim again, now using more fingers than Izuku had ever used on himself. Drool pooled in Izuku’s mouth, trying to swallow through moans he couldn’t get a handle on.
“It’s– khk– Kacchan– it’s too much! ‘M g’nna—” He whimpered, feeling that familiar buildup in his stomach, magnified once again by Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki…
Right as his mouth fell open into a tiny O, Katsuki pulled his fingers out. The jarring emptiness made Izuku flop right back down on the bed, wide eyed as he watched Katsuki slip off his shorts and briefs.
“Oh my god,” he muttered, hands awkwardly sat atop his stomach. “Kacchan! That’s way too big.”
“Hah? What kind of shit is that to say?” Katsuki barked, positioning himself on top of Izuku one final time.
“It’s scary Kacchan!” Izuku offered, giving Katsuki a pouty, innocent expression as he reached to hold his biceps.
Katsuki cupped Izuku’s face in his hands, breath hitting Izuku’s jutted lip. “You ain’t scared of me, shitty Deku.”
He kissed Izuku through the tip of his cock pressing against his hole, hands sliding down to his hips, before Izuku placed his hand on the back of Katsuki’s. He gave it to him, fingers intertwining just underneath the pillow Izuku rested on.
The kiss broke for just a moment when Katsuki entered him, the slight stretch getting a louder moan out of Izuku than any before, which decresendoed to whines against Katsuki’s tongue. They were properly making out now, tongues playfully fighting each other as Katsuki kept his forward thrusts slight so Izuku had plenty of time to adjust,
Izuku’s head fell back when Katsuki bottomed out, breaking their kiss in a groan from both of them, gripping his partner’s hand like he’d disappear. “Kacchan– Katsuki!”
“Fuck, you’ve never called me Katsuki before,” he bit his lip, before tucking into the crook of Izuku’s neck, kissing (or sucking?) at the skin, nipping here and there enough to make him writhe. “ ‘M gonna move, just try to meet me.”
Izuku was not long for this world, with the way Katsuki started to rock, guiding Izuku to move up and down his dick, but alleviating the pressure by making sure he continued his own thrusts. They were past the point of no return, and yet, Katsuki was still holding back, mindful of Izuku’s dizzingly satisfied state.
“Go– go faster,” he whimpered, repeating it louder when Katsuki didn’t immediately comply, voice sultrier now than he thought he could make it. “Please, Kacchan, faster– hck–ahn!”
Katsuki kept himself from bucking wildly into Izuku with all the strength he had, focusing instead on upping the pace and being marginally rougher, which was more than enough to get Izuku close one more time. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Izuku hoped he wasn’t too loud, barely registering the walk of shame he’d have to face if their classmates heard him. But as tears stung the edges of his vision, framing the perfect Katsuki who was treating him so well, he couldn’t have cared.
“G’nna cum, Kacchan,” he babbled. “Y’re g’nna ma– aah– make me cum!” It was the most vulgar he’d been all night.
“Cum, ‘Zuku, yeah— ‘s okay, just cum.” Katsuki grunted, pulling out to the tip, and almost slamming back home into Izuku’s warm walls, making the other boy choke a bit on his own saliva. “Shit! Was that—”
He wanted to wait for Kacchan, really, he had. But Katsuki was intent on making sure he blissed out from the orgasm he’d been aching for. Eyes rolling back, he came across his own stomach, some of it hitting his chest, clenching down on Katsuki’s cock.
“Fuck,” Katsuki groaned, hips stuttering against Izuku’s ass, the sound of their skin meeting again and again arousing enough to stir his mind up. He was closer than he thought he was, and despite Izuku’s post-orgasm weakness, he still locked his legs just over Katsuki’s back. At that, it was easy to tell what he was hoping for.
“Freak,” Katsuki moaned. “Izuku, ffh– fuck–”
His balls got tight, stomach flipping as he looked down, watching his cock go in and out of Izuku until he thrusted as deep as he could one last time, he and Izuku’s noises wrapping around each other as he filled him, Izuku’s hole milking him till he was spent. Their lips locked again, more desperate now than they’d been all night, and they didn’t separate for what felt like hours.
Katsuki fell next to Izuku with an oof, cheeks ruddy, playing with some of Izuku’s curls between his fingers as he stared.
“I didn’t ask if I could, y’know–” Katsuki said modestly. “I’m sor–”
“Kacchan!” Izuku whisper-yelled, face glowing from what they’d just done. “Apologizing all the time really is my thing, you can’t have it!” Katsuki just pushed his hair down into his face, laughing.
“Fine, fine, whatever. Shower? You got your damn cum on my shirt.”
“In a little,” he replied, rolling onto his side. “I don’t think I can stand up yet.”
“Huh– I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Izuku laughed, bright and contented. “Kacchan!”
“You and Bakugou-kun did what?!” Ochako was practically squealing over the phone. “Hell yes, Deku-kun! It’s about time!”
“How are you more excited than I am?” Izuku laughed, using his hand as a visor as if she could see him through the walls.
“I’m texting the group chat about this right now, Izuku, I hope you know.”
“Uraraka-chan, don’t!”
She made sure to theatrically speak the words as she typed. “Deku-kun and Bakugou-kun finally got their shit together and–”
Izuku could’ve died from mortification then and there. “Don’t you dare say it out loud!”