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Mechanical Bull

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Katsuki was a guy with a record long enough to stretch down a few blocks in NYC. Long enough to cross the Manhattan bridge so you could tell right off the bat he was one of two things, an angry man, and more often an impulsive man. Both natures easily landed him in the joint for seven years but good behavior—uh, when did that happen?— and anger management classes taught Katsuki patience.  Mostly it taught him how he didn’t want his life behind bars.

Which was why what he was about to do  right now proved massively idiotic and contradicted his previous statement.

Two guys had a pretty dude backed into a wall. They gave him hits but the guy didn’t rise to the fight. It set Katsuki off.

He gets into any fisticuffs again and he’s going back to prison, the judge reminded him.

Yet with that knowledge, he stiil walked to the thugs and closed his hand on the windpipe of one and dragged him into a wall. His head snapped against the brick and the guy could focus on the one point of pain so Katsuki took the opportunity to introduce a new one.

Katsuki threw his knuckles into the thug’s gut and he curled, gasping and coughing and falling when Katsuki didn’t support his weight any longer.

Thug two looked at Katsuki. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Do you see your friend?”


“That’s who the fuck I am and that’s who you’re going to be if you don’t fuck off. So what’s it gonna be, bud?”

Thug two made for him, hand slipping into his back pocket for a knife.

Pretty guy with the freckles shouted a warning. “Knife!”

The thing about prison, everyone wanted to skank you on the yard; so Katsuki had experience.

The blade sailed for the lower abdomen and Katsuki braced to redirect his body and sock the guy, except the blade froze midair before it could touch him.

 Freckles locked his hand around the thug’s wrist. Veins strained in the length of his forearm. Something powerful and hard slipped into his face. “Drop it.”

Under the right pressure of strength, the thug did. The knife clattered.

Katsuki sucker punched him for good measure.

“Take your friend and go before I get mad,” Katsuki instructed lazily, feeling annoyed and tired.

The thugs scampered like fleeing rats

Katsuki watched their oversized hoodies and baggy jeans shrink into the night. He glared at Freckles. “Why didn’t you fight back?”

Clearly, the strength and training were there. A taught power. One this guy had a strong leash on.

“I don’t believe in it,” Freckles answered with a split lip and a shiner on his cheek.

I don’t believe in it, he thought, the fuck kind of thinking was that?

Katsuki snorted. A pacifist, nice. “Do you believe in getting your ass kicked cause that was about to happen if you didn’t put up a fist.”

“Thank you,” Freckles said with a sugary sweet smile.  “For your help. But don’t worry about me.”

Who the fuck are you?

A thank you?

To Katsuki?

Katsuki was still dealing with this nice guy’s face and polite manners when Freckles tapped his arm gingerly and motioned behind him.  “Hey, I gotta go but thanks again.” Yellow street lights silhouetted his back, crowning his curls in gold.

Freckles might be the second coming of Christ or Katsuki was getting sentimental with age.

“If I see you getting your ass kicked again then I’m kicking your ass, prick,” he shouted at Freckles’ back.

Freckles pivoted and beamed. “You stay out of trouble, man.”






Katsuki was in trouble. He showed up late for his first shift as a bouncer at the strip club and don’t make that face, work was tough to come by with a prison record. His boss Toshinori, a tall guy with a barrel chest and a wide jaw, let him off with a smile and for Katsuki not to worry too much about it.

There might be something severely wrong with his boss or Katsuki because no one was that nice naturally. He thought of Freckles who radiated warmth and sweet smiles.

Did Katsuki accidentally stumble into the nice part of Queens?

“You’re late,” Shouto said as he trotted from the backroom to the hallway where Katsuki received his tame warning.  His skin glittered with sweat and baby oil, and yup, still in black booty short.

Katsuki made an annoyed face at Shouto who guzzled down a water bottle under five seconds. “Shouldn’t you be wearing a shirt?”

“Well, a job at a strip club is the wrong choice for you if you’re that bothered by skin,” Shouto joked.

“There are strippers then there’s you naked. It’s like seeing my mom in a thong, fucking wrong.”

“Fine, fine.” Shouto hopped in the dressing room and jumped out in joggers with bare feet. “So what happened?”

“I was robbing a pre-school.”

“Shouldn’t you try a bank, I’m sure you’ll get more money. That’s what the Joker did.”

“Fuck me up the ass, I forgot the part where you’re a comedian, Shouto.”

“Okay, now you’re just rude, man. I can be funny.”

“What’s funny is how unfunny you are.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the cruelest thing you have ever said and you told a nun to get fucked.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I was drunk.”

“Uh-huh.” Shouto looked at his nails, not buying Katsuki’s game.

“So it doesn’t count,” he explained.

“Sure, man. I mean, you’re still burning in hell but sure.”

He laughed and shoved Shouto half-heartedly.

Katsuki didn’t have a wide social circle, shit with his attitude and mouth, but the people that stuck through his drama from day one were ones he’d take a bullet for. He might not say it to them but it was the truth. Katsuki was loyal to his people.

Eijirou grinned behind the bar, hair spiky and red, and shouted over the heavy beats. “Aye, you’re late!”

Katsuki flipped him as he stood behind a ditzy chick in a tiny, gold dress and a princess tiara. He took her spot once she wobbled to her booth with four shot glasses. Her girlfriends hollered, screams outdoing the multiple boom boxes in the club.

“Shouto, you were on fire,” Eijirou said, passing Shouto a frosty water bottle. “You missed his performance, man.”

“Good. I don’t want to see his pasty white ass.”

“Katsuki, you trip doing the hustle.”

“Is that why you didn’t try for the stripping job? I mean, you’re already ripped as hell and you’re not bad in the face.”

“No, I didn’t because I know this asshole,” he hooked his thumb to Shouto. “Would make me dance to Single Ladies or some shit.”

Shouto smiled into the water bottle. “What, no.”

“You want a shot to settle you down?”

Katsuki flashed his hands where they’re tucked into balls in his front pockets. “I’m on the clock. And I showed late, I’m not trying my luck. The fuck, man.” Actually, he’d prefer a blunt or a cig.

Crowds weren’t a problem nor was the party scene, despite his attitude Katsuki like to party hard, but his mind was locked in that prison mindset. Open space meant surprise attacks and while he knew no one here could do much damage to him, not to mention Shouto and Eijirou would back him up; he expected the attack.

The tussle moments ago didn’t ease his mind either. He still remembered Freckles’ face and the excellent control of strength back there.

“Hey, hey.” Eijirou backed up with an apologetic smile. “You seem a little edgy. I was just offering.”

Shouto clapped his back. “I gotta go, private dances. You behave now. Watch the dancers. Take the stick out of your ass, Katsuki.”

Katsuki said, “I hope some girl fucking pukes all over your dick.”

Eijirou cackled about to join in on the ball busting but a busty brunette slammed a tray on the trap. “Jesus, Uraraka.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Uraraka huffed, brown hair spilling forward as she rested her chin on her folded arms.

“Did something happen? You can tell Katsuki,” he pointed. “He’s our new badass. Anyone gives you trouble and Katsuki will scare them.”

Katsuki couldn’t tell if Eijirou was bullshitting. He offered anyway, seeing as his job was security but feeling stupid and big and so out of place in the club. “I mean, I could kick their asses. It would give me something to do.”

Uraraka pressed her hands over her mouth; she got round hazel eyes and a round face too angelic for a waitress at a strip club. “Oh, no. Just a few snotty customers. They totally forget the second I give them sass so it’s no trouble. Just tiring. Sorry, I’m Uraraka!”

“Dumbass here dropped my name but yea. I’m here.”

“Uh…” Uraraka droned, pinching her face in thought, and snapped her fingers. “Right. Shots, please. Fireball. Four.

Eijirou dropped under the bar, pinching four glasses between his fingers, and lined them up. With a special kind of showmanship, he flipped the bottle and filled the glasses. He made the journey from the counter to the tray for Uraraka.

“Thanks. I wanna get these orders in before Izuku gets on.”

They chatted some more but a familiar hulking figure emerged from the dark of the backroom, blonde on the top and a nut breaking teeth. Katsuki thought it was about time to act like security and do some circuits on the floor.

 He left the bar and went down the steps to the lower level. The main stage centered the room backed with silk curtains and a gallery of stage lights. A few platforms had dancers wiggling and gyrating, Katsuki looked before he got bored. Some customers flinched when his sights landed on theirs, mostly guys. The women looked on, piqued. Katsuki walked long enough for  reckless and rude customers to get a glimpse at his prison hardened body before he tucked to a wall with a wide view of the floor.

Green lights hummed like a thin fog on the stage. The DJ blared to the people, “My people, my people, give it up for your boy, Deku.”

What kind of stripper called himself Deku?

A dumbass, probably.

Or maybe Freckle boy, who was crossing from the side of the stage in a moss green jumpsuit with white gloves and boots and the zipper on the front zipped down to the fluff of pubic hair, exposing developed pecs and a sick cut of chiseled abs—wait, what?

And Katsuki wanted to laugh at Mr. Rogers stripping on stage to a gritty, sinister grind of a melody but Freckles was prowling on the state with a sort of immobilizing sexual instinct that Katsuki doubted his own eyes. Because that couldn’t be Gandhi on stage, the pacifist who didn’t believe in his own defense but in the protection of random strangers— like come on, legit?

For the first few dirty beats, Deku didn’t roll or saunter his way to the audience or the pole. He walked to the pole like a person who owed him money, stared it down, and instead of the audience losing interest they’re on life support. Holding their breath. Riveted. Excited.

And fine, maybe Katsuki was off the wall and slowly creeping closer to the stage. Maybe he got a bit of interest in seeing if Freckles had the bite to go with the bod.


Baby, I wanna touch you

I wanna breathe into your will

See, I gotta hunt you

I gotta to bring you to my hell

Baby, I wanna fuck you

I wanna feel you in my bones

Boy, I'm gonna love you

I'm gonna tear into your soul


With those words, Deku’s whipped an arm on the pole so hard the steel vibrated .He placed the other, more controlled, and not a damn thing braced Katsuki for this guy ‘s ungodly body roll against the pole. All lean and mean. All sex and a capped strength. Katsuki tried to place the bakery sweet face guy in the alley to the testosterone pumping stripper on stage.

Deku rolled again, crotch rubbing on metal, eyes focused on the pole. He gripped it and pushed his body into falling, and rotated a complete 360. When he stopped, his put his back to the pole and squatted, one hand on the iron for support and the other dipping down his chest like water.

The women were wild. The guys fidgeted in their seats, hands going under the table to adjust their dicks. Katsuki might be wishing to be reincarnated as a stripper pole in his next life.

Deku slithered up, like a contained bomb, and hopped away from the pole to fall into a glide on his knees. He angled the massive profile of his body before he spread his thighs and rocked his hips to the ground. Foundation concealed the purpling bruise on his cheek and at a distance with the glaring lights the split on his lip went unnoted. Not that did anything to hurt his stripper image. The injury gave him a bad vibe.

It literally rained Benjamins. A few drunk women rushed the stage and pawed the air aggressively for a grope. One actually managed to touch him and Katsuki wondered if this was the part where he should step and pull them away, but Deku just smiled at her, sweet and sensual, and stood on his knees.

He shoved off the sleeves of the jumpsuit and teased with his wild hair, chest tensing and flexing like some demi-god in the middle of worship, the green mist painting his eyes a dark shade like a villain.  Katsuki’s damn eardrums bled from the rabid screams of Deku’s fangirls and boys.

Maybe noise canceling earplugs would be a healthy invest—fucking Christ, Deku’s hand was on his dick. Not over the jumpsuit. Actually under; Katsuki forgot all about the noise in the club because the noise in his head was much louder.

What the serious fuck?

Deku plucked one of the many bills coating the stage, locked eyes with one of the girls screaming, and stuffed it under the jumpsuit. She threw him a hundred, probably for more skin, but Deku hopped back to his feet. Shuffling and moving like a sleek hip-hop dancer, and started to work that pole.

There was no warning to him kicking up in the air and contorting his body around the bar like a snake. He spun by his arms alone and stopped suddenly, locking the bar between his thighs. He released his hands and got a gasp from the crowd as he hovered by his thighs alone.

His fucking thighs had to be cut from that, right? Female strippers had insane quads from the training, Deku had to be in the same class of rip.

Dude, fucking focus. Remember, work, work. Out of prison and all, put a life together.

He looked around to see if anyone was in actual need of his service, but the bouncer at the main door played on his phone and the two guarding the private rooms chatted back and forth. Uraraka and a few other girls plus the guys at the bar were the only ones doing some legitimate work.

Deku straightened, slid into a dirty kneel at the base of the pole, and leaned forward, looking to kiss his mouth across the metal. Before his lips could brush it, Deku grabbed it and rolled back to his feet. He circled the pole, dipping into a fall, and righted him long enough to slip into a lewd squat.

He balanced on his toes, racing a hand down his hard chest. Teased the waistband pinched on the cut of his pelvis.

His eyes passed over the crowd, a hungry moss, until they fixed on Katsuki.

Deku cupped the bulge of his cock through the clothes.

Katsuki saw him through a rain of money.


Honey, I wanna break you

I wanna throw you to the hounds

Yeah, I gotta hurt you

I gotta hear it from your mouth

Boy, I wanna taste you

I wanna skin you with my tongue

I'm gonna kill you

I'm gonna lay you in the ground







Katsuki had kicked out two Johns for groping one female dancer and for making an unwarranted pass at Uraraka and one chick who thought fondling Shouto’s ball was one of her rights. Between that, Katsuki mainly avoided eye fucking Deku whenever he popped on the floor for a break or to chat away with Uraraka. He had a smile for everyone, even the piss drunk dudes who leaned back in the stools at the bar and checked out his ass. He offered one to Katsuki when he caught him staring. Magically, Katsuki found some trouble to take of then.

Whatever, he was cute. So, not like Katsuki never been around hot people. Don’t fall under the assumption, Katsuki was a solid twelve on the hotness scale. Chicks and dudes chased back in high school where Katsuki was a massive dick.

 Wouldn’t call back. Fucked and dipped.  Pranked a few losers, the crew he hung with encouraged this dickhead personality. Shouto and Eijirou were the ones to sit his ass down and lay on the harsh truth after he got arrested for shoplifting and none of his homeboys showed to bail him out. He did well too for a bit until they graduated and his impulse control went off to brighter futures.

Then Katsuki was that angry guy. Getting fucked up on whiskey and vodka. Putting his cock in any hot dame cause no one would want his temperamental ass as a future anything, so one nights were better than lonely nights.

Did all this. Rinse, lather, repeat. In a perpetual state of drunk to hungover to pissed off. In the beds of strangers who kicked his ass to the curb the minute the light crawled on the sheets. In the smoky basement as people passed the warm bottle of Jack and a glowing blunt. In sofas of sort of friends who liked Katsuki when he was shit faced and not sober.

Went low and low until the proverbial dam broke and Katsuki snapped bad and redirected the insecurities and the anger to his hands and broke this guy’s nose with the first punch. Didn’t stop after, oh no, he put the guy under his thighs and rained his fists until his skin ripped at the knuckles. It took three officers and a taser to crack through the haze of explosive fury.

There was no bail out this time. The judge sentenced him. The guy, thankfully, survived the beating but if he had went any longer the charge of assault would switch to involuntary manslaughter.

All the people he drank and smoked with were a no-show. Surprise. Shouto and Eijirou did come, the fucking saints. Katsuki had no clue the fuck he did to earn such friends but he was grateful under the fury.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“Should we kiss through the glass so everyone thinks you’re taken and they don’t try to make you their girlfriend?” Shouto joked.

“You know that’s the gayest shit I heard all day and prison’s pretty gay as it is.”

“So no?”

“You’re my girlfriend. Not the other way around.”

“Like there’s a difference.”

Eijirou snatched the phone out of Shouto’s hand. “Hey, we can try that scene from Austin Powers and break you out?”

Shouto sighed into his hand. “You just said that at a prison. The fucking guard is looking at you.”

“Oh, hey! It’s just a joke man,” he explained loudly to the overweight prison guard. “I am all about the law. Law and Order, you know. CSI. Dexter. Die Hard. Rush Hour.”

Katsuki banged his head against the table.

“Yea. Way to throw off suspicion. We’re leaving separately now.”

“Anyway, Kacchan, how’s the joint? Is it like Prison Break or Orange Is The New Black or Conair? Do you sell like candy bars? You got a big boss? Are you in a gang? Do the boys pick on you because you’re a pretty boy? Would you like congenial visits next time?”

Shouto snickered in his quiet manner.

On the other side of the glass, Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Yes, I smuggle Juicy Fruit and Tic Tacs in my ass. No, nerd. I’m staying low.”

“Good, we want you out with us,” Shouto said, like Katsuki wasn’t a colossal fuck up. A dumbass. An unhinged criminal. “So I can beat your ass in Smash. You got arrested before our rematch.”

“I hate you guys.”

“Sure, dude.”

“Yea, you totally don’t get a sparkle in your eye whenever we show up. We love you too, Kacchan.”

“I’m so getting shanked when I go back. Thanks. So tell me what the fuck you nerds are doing without my amazing ass?”


“Not too bad, right?” Eijirou asked at closing.

They’re waiting on Shouto to pack up as they made plans to light up and pass the night with games and fumes.

“Is he packing his dick and balls, what’s taking so long?” Katsuki grumbled to Eijirou.

“I’m here,” Shouto arrived. “And for your information, my dick requires strategic packaging cause it’s so large.”

Katsuki swiped his leg to kick Shouto’s shin, but the guy coolly dodged it, smirking.

“Later, boys.” Uraraka waved on her way out with the other girls, Asui

“You don’t wanna blaze, girl?”

Uraraka whined. “Dude, I have to study for my midterms. Chem is killing me. Seriously.”

“Boo, hey Tenya.”  Eijirou asked the tall guy with glasses. “What about you?” He pinched his index finger and thumb and tapped it twice to his mouth.

“Blaze?” Tenya asked slowly, decrypting the message.

“Yea,” Eijirou chirped. “Like weed. Snoop Dog. For shizzle my nizzle.”

Katsuki groaned. “Dude, stop talking.”

“Smoke weed every day,” he sang, adding fuel to Katsuki’s fiery glare.

“Oh god, no,” Tenya flushed violently like Eijirou asked him to help move a body over the bridge. “I say no to drugs.”

“Wow,” Shouto said after a pause of silence swallowed the group.

Uraraka and Asui and Eijirou laughed only breaking it to assure Tenya it was totally cool to be a square.

“Shouto, I think that made my ears bleed,” Katsuki said, tapping the shell of his ear.

Deku trailed in behind him in loose fitting clothes. He had washed the makeup off judging by the water collar and the vivid purple declaring on his cheek. “If you were any squarer, you would be a box,” he teased Tenya, snickering when Tenya glared over his shoulder.

“Izuku! My man, you wanna chill with us? It’s gonna be me, Denki, Shouto, and Katsuki—oh shit, yeah, this is Katsuki. Katsuki, Izuku.”

Izuku waved shyly like he didn’t spend the whole shift grinding in laps with his shirt off and skin tight clothes. “What are the odds, huh?”

“Yea. Some real Disney shit.”

“You guys know each other?”

“Only a little,” Izuku said with a smile equal parts sweet as apple pie and dark like black honey. Katsuki tried hard not to think of Izuku back on the pole with sweat and body butter on his chest and gravity an undiscovered concept.

Katsuki rubbed his nose with the back of his hand., not knowing what to make of Izuku’s stupid warmth.

Eijirou cut through the electric tension sparking in Katsuki under Izuku’s stare. “Aye, so you down?”

Izuku checked his phone. “Sure. I’m off tomorrow.”

“Sweet. Shouto’s has a car.”

“I like how you just volunteered my ride.”

“I got his keys!” He jiggled Shouto’s set of keys triumphantly.

Shouto patted his pockets and found that yeah, Eijirou literally pickpocketed him. “Did you just…jack my shit, Eijirou?”

“Whoops, too much Skyrim. I guess.”






“Yo, Eijirou!” Denki and Eijirou conducted their over the top handshake. “Who’s with you?”

“The squad,” he said.

“You fucking nerd,” said Katsuki right next to him.

“Oh shit, Katsuki!” Denki clapped him on the arm, hitting the hard swell of muscle. He poked at it, lifting Katsuki’s sleeve to see the curving lines of definition and prodded further. “Dude you got fucking ripped as hell.”

“No shit,” he grumbled from the inspection.

“Shouto. Izuku,” Denki greeted them by the door, then stood on his toes to look over their heads. “That’s it? No chicks, another sausage fest.”

Katsuki fixed his sleeve. “They heard you were going to be there and dipped.”

Denki barked loudly, the noise amplified by the darkened streets of Queens. “Ah, still an asshole. I missed that. Every group needs a lovable asshole, that’s you.”

“So you gonna make us stand outside with our dicks in our hands or what?”

“Oh, please. Enter King Katsuki.” He bowed.

Katsuki pinched his stomach as he went inside.






Weed usually mellowed him out and it should be doing that right now, sending Katsuki down the river of chill, except Izuku was sitting by him on Denki’s Craigslist purchased sofa. The seats sucked you in. The color was faded. And you could feel the wood frame underneath it. Not a slight factor equaled a pleasant experience but Katsuki couldn’t fucking complain much on it with Izuku’s stupid, sculpted thigh resting lazily against his.

Like holy shit.

Izuku took a hit, tilting his head back, neck going long and white.

Katsuki wanted his mouth there. Very badly. He stared.

Luckily Izuku mistook the heated expression for weed as he offered Katsuki the joint. “You want another hit?”


I want to hit you.

Not physically.

Okay, kinda, only because Izuku annoyed him due to the simple fact that he was not annoying in the least. A sweet guy with smiles for everyone; Katsuki should want to bury him. Yet he was talking to him and tasting his saliva on the joint.

“Yea.” He sucked until clouds filled him and continued the rotation to Shouto, who was on the floor, playing Kart with Eijirou and Denki. “How are you a fucking stripper?”

Izuku giggled. “What, not sexy enough to be one?”

Katsuki turned his face and glared at the bright screen flashing the room with color. “What, no, like you don’t…look—you know.”

Maybe, he should not open his mouth. Ever.

“I need a job. So, yea. Gotta eat and shit. Why are you a bouncer?”

“Fucking gotta eat too, dick..” He mumbled, looking at the TV dully. His peripheral still maintained notes on Izuku. When he blinked. When he licked his lips. When his eyes dipped. His chest moving under his shirt. The pretty splatter of freckles on his face and neck.

“I’m going to school for medicine,” Izuku confessed, flushing the instant Katsuki whipped his head back. He pulled his collar to his mouth, hiding, with something close to fear on his face. “I know what a cliché.”

“At least you’re doing shit,” he said. “How’s that going?”  He prodded next to keep Izuku talking.

“Hard. Studying all these body parts. Like why do we even need that many parts you know.” He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. Katsuki saw the dark curls of pubic hair and the sculpted V of Izuku’s pelvis. And maybe a bit of freckles dipping below the band.

Well, Katsuki had only one body part he was thinking with currently.

Fucking damn, son.

He swallowed hard as he tried not to make it blatantly obvious to Izuku that he was checking out his body.

Denki roared on the carpet, suffering another lost. “Shouto is a fucking cheat.”

Shouto stuffed his hand into the bag of Doritos. “Scrub.”

“Give me your controller,” Denki demanded, making a grabby motion at Shouto.

“Fine. You’re still going to lose.”

Eijirou looked back and held up the controller. “You guys want in?”

Izuku blinked at the screen with heavy libs then down at Eijirou. “I can’t even see the TV.”

He laughed. “Kacchan?”

“I’m good up here.”

“I bet,” he smirked, wiggling his brows suggestively.

Before Izuku could regain use of his eyesight, Katsuki placed his foot on Eijirou and shoved him hard enough to topple him. Eijirou fell, laughing.

Denki sighed. “How the fuck did I lose to you?”

Shouto answered, though Denki never planned for one. “What the world doesn’t know is that Eijirou functions at a thousand percent when he’s high.”


“He passed his driving exam high,” Shouto elaborated with Katsuki nodding behind him in confirmation.

Izuku picked his head up, interested. “Oh my god, really?”

“Legit. Got an A.”

Katsuki took the joint from Denki, sucked on the dwindling stick, and coughed. “He passed his ACTs too. 28.”


“You’re a beast,” Izuku praised. “Katsuki, don’t kill it.”

He leaned on the armrest and pushed Izuku away with one hand, internally dying at the solid feel of his pectorals. Why the fuck was he so cut? Why?

Izuku looked like cotton candy.


The color of his eyes was probably something achievable only by anime and Disney characters

Katsuki sucked on the joint, laughing out smoke as Izuku overpowered him and started to crawl over him for it. “Nah, nah. Izuku, say dem magic words.”

Izuku stretched his arms. “You’re a dick.”

“That’s not the magic words. Not even close.”

Denki complained. “Can you two not fuck in my place, thank you—fucking, Shouto!”

“Whoops. You shouldn’t let your guard down, man.”

Eijirou blinked at his hands. “Did I just win?”

“I’m kicking you all out.”






“Seriously, I’m twenty-one,” the chick argued.

Katsuki scanned the ID, turning it over and back. The whole text was lopsided slightly and it was missing the iridescent watermark. “Twenty-one? Like I believe that horse shit.” He showed the model-thin blonde the DOB. “The year on this says 85, that would make you way fucking older than twenty-one.”

“What,” she shrieked, stealing the ID back and checking it herself. She paled. “ That must be a mistake.”

He unclipped the velvet rope and gestured. “Sure. Go get a better fake ID, you’re holding up the line. Next!”

“Maybe I can offer you something better,” she purred, pushing her chest out.

And wow, Katsuki was so not digging this bull.

No freckles? Get the fuck outta here with that weak game.

“Look flashing your tits won’t get you in. Go the fuck home.”

She stormed out of line, stilettos clicking on the pavement. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“You wanna card me?” Izuku smiled.

“Dude, the hell you in line for? Go through the back.”

“Oh yea. Totally forgot. I just saw you and figured I say hi and all.”

“Well, hi,” Katsuki said, dull, and immediately wanted to heave himself into oncoming traffic when Izuku’s lips pulled into a brief frown. “Like thank you? Hi and thanks.”

Why did everything coming out of his mouth make him sound like such a  dickbag?

“Thank you?” Izuku teased, having enough kindness not to full-on laugh in Katsuki’s face because there was no way he didn’t sound like a jackass.

Katsuki punched him lightly on the arm, face schooled back into his trademark cool guy indifference. “Get the fuck inside, nerd.”

He laughed when Katsuki started to shove him inside. “I’m going. I’m going.”

His cheeks felt like a fire hazard, red and hot.

This asshole waited in line to tell me hi.






He didn’t really get Izuku’s friendship. Katsuki was certain half the shit he said to him were either insults made to be compliments and poorly stringed sentences because Katsuki couldn’t act right around Izuku.

But he didn’t really fight it.

Now, he barked at Izuku if he caught him studying at the bar when he should be relaxing. Telling him to eat after a performance. Giving him crap when someone copped a cheap feel during his dance. Busting his balls about him being a wannabe Channing Tatmun, though Izuku’s body could send that clown packing. Izuku’s texts blew up his phone. All. The. Time

Shouto and Eijirou shared a look anytime his cell dinged

“Izuku again?”

Katsuki hid the screen. “No. Mind your damn business.” He read the text, laughing at the meme Izuku sent him. “Fuckin’ Izuku. Watch I’m gonna outdo him,” he grinned back down at his cell and typed out a reply, oblivious to his friend’s judging looks.

If this were a sitcom, they would be in a private room, speaking directly to a camera.

“Wow,” Shouto whispered. “We’re being downgraded.”

Eijirou agreed, sneaking back a peek when Katsuki laughed evilly at the perfect meme and attached it to a text with a sadistic crackle of brace yourself, Izuku.  “It’s like watching Bowser and Princess Peach date.”

Katsuki looked up from his cell, smile withering. “What? What you staring at, nerds?”

“An idiot,” Shouto, the helpful guy he was, replied.

He stuffed his cell into his back pocket and shimmied to the edge of the mattress. “Gimme that controller. I’m pounding Shouto.”

“Weird choice of words.”

“You know what I mean,” he grumbled, selecting his character on the screen.”

“Yea, Shouto. Kacchan wants to pound only one person and his name is Izuku—“

“Oh, so you’re looking for an ass beating too, man?”

“Only if you’re gentle, Kacchan. You know I’m delicate down there.”

“…Why are we friends?”

“Cause no one wants to be our friends so we’re all friends.”

Katsuki scoffed. “People want to be my friend.”

Shouto smacked his lips but pointedly said nothing.

Eijirou examined his blunt nails.

The audio from the video game filled the space that once held his friend’s voices.

“Oh. Oh I see.  So I’m the asshole.”

“Thank god he said it,” Eijirou breathed in relief.

Shouto covered his mouth, shaking.  

“Stop laughing.”

“I think he’s crying, dude.” He walked on his hands and knees to check past Shouto’s long bangs and resumed his seat. “You made Shouto laugh so hard that he’s crying. Aw.”

“I hope you choke on your tears,” Katsuki shouted at Shouto’s immobile body, trembling terribly with subdued laughter. “Alright. It’s not that funny…Stop laughing, we can’t start a match if you’re giggling over there.”

“Man. I missed this. It’s so rad having the squad again.”

“Stop saying squad.”







Katsuki slammed the med textbook closed and dragged it down the counter, trapping it under his elbow.

Izuku jerked back with a guilty smile, crawling his fingers toward the dog-eared six hundred paged textbook. “Uh.”

Katsuki swatted the fingers. “Don’t tell me you were studying.”


“Dude. The fuck. Stop being a nerd at work.” He ruffled Izuku’s wild nest hair. It was still slightly damp from his performance ten minutes ago. A solid ten, called Lady Midnight rocked the pole to M.I.A’s Bad Girls.

He hung his head. “Sorry. I’m just stressed with school.” He carded his fingers recklessly through his hair, pushing at the curls, and stealing Katsuki’s breath with his handsome face. The curls bounced back over his green eyes. “ I have my finals coming up and this is the section that’s fucking me up.”

Izuku ripped the textbook from under his elbow and opened the page he was scrutinizing with a mad passion. “Look at these words. I can’t even pronounce them and I have to remember them and what it means.”

He didn’t care; what bothered him were the circles under izuku’s eyes and the lowered setting of his bright smile this entire week. It diminished by the day, light in his eyes dimmed and more tried.

“Izuku, chill.” He closed the textbook.

Izuku lowered his forehead to the counter, mumbling. “I know.”

“You’re fucking smart. It’s the stress that’s twisting you.”

He nodded on the counter. “You’re right.”

“You want to smoke? Might fix you up. It chills me out.”

Izuku popped his head up, resting his chin now on the bar. “Sure.”

“Cool, I’ll assemble the squad. “ He shot Izuku a look cold enough to freeze hell over, then said lowly, darkly, with a weight of two hundred pound barbell. “Don’t tell Eijirou I said that or I’ll kill you.”

Izuku grabbed his hand as he unlocked his phone and made to type a message in the group chat. “We could just smoke.”

“You and me?”

Like, alone?

Alone, alone?

Izuku with him, alone?



Whatever bravery Izuku had in suggesting it, crumbled swiftly. His teeth rolled over his bottom lip, scratching it full and red. The guy could gyrate on a chick’s lap with the nastiest beat rushing in his blood without an ounce of shame, but asking Katsuki for one on one time turned him pink.

It made Katsuki feel explosive.

Izuku dipped his eyes, speaking less strongly now. “Yeah…If that’s cool.”

Okay, Katsuki, do not fuck this up. Be smooth.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Fucking, Katsuki.

“Well, we usually hang out in a group, you know,” he said, still not feeling courageous to look him in the eye. “ You, me, Shouto, Eijirou, and Denki.”

“Shouto and Eijirou are my STDS. I can’t get rid of them. But you wanna chill together just say so, don’t wuss out.”

“O-okay. Cool!”

“We’ll have to go to my crib since you’re in student housing.”

Nice, Katsuki.

Work it in.

Smooth, smooth.


“I have my bike so I could drive you back or you could spend the night or whatever.”

Yea, like whatever, spend the night. Alone. With me. With no one to possibly kill the mood. If you happen to fall ass first on my cock, then oh well, shit happens, right?

“I have school in the morning so I’ll just take the bus after.”

“Fuck that. Stay. I’ll drive you in the morning but you gotta get my ass up.”


“Cool.” Katsuki nodded, awkwardly.  Izuku smiled sleepily. “I have to act like an asshole now or Toshinori will tell me something.”

“Act?” He teased.

“Fuck you. And I’m taking this.”

“Katsuki, I won’t study.” Izuku’s hand latched on his shirt. “I promise.”

“Nah. You’re a lying shit. See you after work.”






Izuku exited out the back entrance, shouldering a back bag and glistening on account of body glitter from one of the makeup artist and maybe a few drunk bachelorettes who crowned their necks and heads with glittery plastic dicks. The ladies loved Izuku, the boyish innocence with the hard masculine body of a man.

Katsuki leaned against his red Yamaha Cruiser, painfully trying way too hard to look like a cool cat. He caressed the leather seat and shot a finger gun at Izuku once he stepped close. “Sup. Like my hot ride? Bet it makes you all tingly inside.”

Izuku’s tired face eased into a soft thing Katsuki felt his hands were too callous and reckless to hold without breaking.  “You look like an asshole.”

He straddled the bike, revved the engine, and checked back on Izuku’s premature insult. “Hear that purr, my girl’s fierce too…” Izuku yawned. “Alright, I’m done. Hop on.”

Izuku looped the backpack through both arms and got on, curling so, so easy around him. His strong arms lassoed his gut.

“…It’s a nice ride,” he confessed, laying his head on Katsuki’s back.

It was a good feeling.

A soft one.

Like glass.

Like paper hearts.

Like cloud and cotton candy.

Katsuki felt ill-equipped for it.

“Bitches love the hog—hey don’t pinch me, dick head.”

“You promised me relaxation.”

“I said weed.”

“And you. That relaxes me, now get a move on.”






Katsuki jammed his key into the lock, twisted clockwise then counter-clockwise because he could never remember which direction to work the key, and popped the lock. He pulled on the knob and gave the door a healthy shove and persuaded open.

What, he lived in Queens.

In an apartment complex with 28 floors.

 Look, he got free internet and cable.

Though he was pretty sure his landlord may or may not have ties with the mafia.

He tossed the keys into a dish and flipped the lights, closing the door behind Izuku by once again slamming it shut. Something thumped his floor, his neighbor below. Katsuki thumped back just to be childish.

Izuku walked the studio-sized place. An embarrassingly tiny kitchen with one cabinet overhead and below. An oven the size of an Easy Bake. A fridge  shorter than him. Bathroom with a shower only. A closet not even wide enough to hang himself if this place depressed him enough. And a cozy living room/bedroom with a plasma TV.

So now you know where his last checks went. To the TV. To the candy apple red bike. And not somewhere smart, like I don’t know, a living space not inspired from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Izuku circled the apartment. Literally, he turned a complete 360 and saw all there was to his place.

He smiled, polite. Forced. Strained. “It’s…homey.”

He blinked at the water stains on the ceiling and the scratches in the wood flooring. “I guess you can say that. My first choice though, the start of every Law and Order episode.”

“TV looks pricey,” Izuku said, bending to read the manufacturer. “And the bike.”

“So I’m not great with money,” he admitted, glaring out the window. The glass was smoky with dust.


Bring a hookup and leave the crib a mess.

Fucking solid, bro.

“Katsuki, what is wrong with you? I feel like I might be offered coke and a blowjob on one floor.”

“No. That’s floor thirteen. It’s a Saturday special. Everyone else pushes heroin…” The most absurd face of horror masked Izuku. “Dude I’m fucking with you…We push meth, that’s where the money at. ”

“I feel like I should take you home with me.”

“Bitch, you gotta buy me dinner first before I slut out.”

“I’m serious. Now I’m actually worried.”

“Shut up.” Katsuki scrubbed a hand through his hair, then took two steps from the living room into the kitchen. “So before we smoke, we have to order food. Here.” He pulled a drawer and unearthed an ungodly amount of menus. “I got pizza, more pizza, Chinese, Thai, Mexican, Puerto Rican, pizza, um white food—“

“White food?”

He looked up. “Like burgers, don’t get PC on me, Izuku.”


“Okay. Um, Cuban. Pizza. More pizza, I feel like a fucking Ninja Turtle now.”

“We can make something,” Izuku offered, hopefully.

He snorted, sorting through the menus. Why did he have ten menus from Domino’s? “That’s funny.”

“No. I can cook. For real.” He moved into the kitchen, bumping his hip against Katsuki’s in order to get to the cabinets.

“Dude. I have like no food,” he said, seeing and hearing Izuku fiddled around in his kitchen.

“Bullshit.” Izuku opened the cabinets. Inside: a month old box of Lucky Charms, three non-name cans of questionable tuna, a box of Frosted Flakes, two boxes of pasta, beans, chili, oatmeal. Inside the fridge: frost burnt steak, a poorly resealed bag of wings, sausage, bacon, expired milk, butter, and Dr. Pepper.

He regarded Katsuki slowly with a ghost white terror. “Katsuki, how are you alive?”

“Hatred, mostly.”

“You could play the Heart of an Angel in this place.”

He whacked him across the head with the 11th Domino’s menu. “Izuku, get fucked.”

“So we’re ordering since you’re disgusting and lazy.”

He planted his elbow on the counter in direct sight of Izuku and checked him up and down. “I see you, Izuku. I see you.” He pointed his fingers at his eyes then back to Izuku then to himself. “You got everyone fooled with that nice boy act but I see who you are. I got you.”

“Stop acting weird.” Izuku slapped his hand. “Let’s go to Wingstop. There’s one three blocks away.”







“Do I suck your dick for the food? Or do you suck my dick for the weed?” Katsuki asked once they entered the apartment. “Or is this a 69 thing and we suck each other off to save time?”

Izuku flushed crimson. He squeaked something too low for Katsuki’s ear but his face was everything Katsuki desired. Sweet. Hot. And adorable.

He smirked, cruel about it, but that face was making him hungry for Izuku. They were always in a group when they hung so there was never this focus between each other. Someone jumped in or roped the other into their conversation. Now, Izuku was his own private home theater.

“What was that?”

“TV,” he said, teeth rolling on his bottom lip.

He didn’t know if he should get hard or mushy in the head at the guy. Two class acts, sexy and sweet rolled into one package.


“We watch the television,” he clarified.

“…Okay…So you’re not sucking my—fucking titty twister, Izuku. God my nipples hurt. You better kiss them too—Stop! Not my other nipple.“






“Am I still banished?” Katsuki grumbled from the floor, eating his wings by himself. Izuku manned the sofa, arm resting on the rest, and curled out. Whenever Katsuki tipped his head back, he hit the shin of Izuku’s leg. Under those stretchy sweats were thighs of compact iron. Above that was Izuku’s nice cock—

“I guess not.” Izuku tugged on a random lock of hair.

He tipped his head back and watched upside down Izuku smile. “Ready to light up?”

Izuku’s eyes wandered. Eyes, nose, lips, and throat. “Yea.”

Katsuki set them up, the joint rolled expertly under a minute, and grabbed a Bic lighter. “Here, careful.” He offered him the first hit. “Denki said it’s pretty hot shit. Take it slow.”

“Please, I can handle my pot.” Izuku sucked on it, eyes closed to Katsuki as he stared at his chest moving under his shirt. His nipples poked through it, hard from the cold. Katsuki felt like someone chained a kettlebell to his gut with how fast it sunk in heat.

“There you go, pass it here.”

Izuku laid on his back, opening his mouth to puff out clouds. The stress and tension fled his body. “I feel like someone put a burning fireball in me,” he mumbled as he stretched his legs on the sofa, he left plenty of space for Katsuki to hover on the edge. But he looked offered up. To be devious. To be taken. To be fucked up.

Katsuki pinched the joint and turned it over to Izuku, smoke followed his voice. “It called King Explosive.”

“That’s a stupid name,” he laughed.

“I named it.”

“…It’s a stupid name,” Izuku laughed again, bright. His smiles glowed brightly all the time, like mini supernovas.

“You’re the biggest douchebag I have ever met. Seriously.”

“You’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met but I still like you. Don’t know why.”

“Cause I’m hot,” he joked.

“Maybe,” he hummed, suggestive, wired.

Katsuki slowed on his next inhale, the joint pressured between the vee of his fingers. It glowed in the dark, a fiery amber. “Can I ask something?”


“You feel weird dancing for people?”

Izuku closed his eyes and hummed. “Like on the pole or on laps?”

“Laps,” Katsuki said with a cloud and a glance to him.

He blinked, eyes heavy with dope. A pretty forest in them with a greying mist settling on the pines. “Not really. I mean it’s still work but sometimes I get good-looking people who want me. Who pay for me. It’s kinda nice having that.”

“You ever get hard?”

Wow, Katsuki, no subtly.

“If they’re hot,” Izuku’s soft mouth flashed a wide, flirty smile. “Why don’t you dance? I think you would be pretty decent.”

He shook his head and traded the joint back when Izuku held out a loose hand. “Me, no fucking way. I can’t do that pole shit.”

“You can rub on someone, right? A lot of clients want that. They don’t care about technique.”

“Like just rubbing? How is that sexy,  show me.”

“Okay,” Izuku said,  getting up.


He stood in front of him, mouth tight on the blunt. His chest moved with the inhale. “I said ‘okay’.”

Izuku gave his shoulder a slight shove and Katsuki fell into the sofa, legs parted, with understanding dawning slow. Izuku lowered the volume on the TV then tapped on his phone for some music. He picked something gritty and slow and a deep undertone of heat.  The sex in it found some opening in Katsuki and wandered under his skin, leaving fiery footprints as it went. He felt nuclear, watching Izuku approach him like a client. His heart throttled wild, man,—a horny Thoroughbred, a jackhammer, the earth under the right natural destructive power— when Izuku grabbed the back of the sofa and straddled his thighs.

Couldn’t breathe, how, when he had Izuku’s firm weight so, so close to his dick.

He realized belatedly that his eyes have wandered because Izuku tapped his chin and forced them up on him.


I know it hurts, you know I’d quench that thirst

(I can treat you better than her)

You say you're lonely, I say you'll think about it

‘Cause you're the only one who resonates

That chase, mouth open like high


“You gotta get their attention first,” he said, voice cultured with sex.

Katsuki felt young, shivering from the sound alone. He already swelling. Getting thick from the lewd heat in Izuku’s eyes, from the wet beat dancing him into madness.

So this was Deku, the sex bomb on stage. Show Stopper. Heart Thief. Leaving people hungry. Giving people dreams.  Packing the streets. Packing the backroom because everyone wanted a bit of Deku for themselves even if they were charged by the minute.

People wanted stars.

People paid to borrow them.

“Gotta let them think they can get you,” he husked into his ear, breath rushing warm on Katsuki’s skin. “They pay for the show but they’re always hoping you’ll fuck them in the room. That they’re the one person to get the stripper.”

“Do you?”

Izuku puffed on the joint, then set it on the ashtray. “I’m a selective slut.”

“Oh, I see.”

Izuku’s fingers traced on the collar of his shirt. “You’re smiling. You’re supposed to be dying.”

“Then get me there, Deku. Give me that show.”

Those fingers made a fist fast on his collar and he was reminded once more of Izuku’s strength as he lifted Katsuki’s back from its slump position on the sofa. That forest of pines seemed closer to a bed of green cobras. Izuku looked down on him. Down, like I’m about to have you fucked in a billion languages; like they’ll need to make more days in the week to account for the level of fucked you’re about to endure.

“I’m so wrecking you, dude,” he warned and released Katsuki so he dropped back into the sofa, stunned and definitely harder than he was two seconds ago.

He wanted to say, fuck me up, leave my ass in pieces like you do to your clients, but instead buckled the fuck down and braced his mind, body, and soul because Deku—the club’s leading stripper—was about to grind the definition of sex into Katsuki. For free.

God bless—

Denki’s killer weed

This shitty apartment.


Katsuki’s underdeveloped skills as an adult.

Probably God or something.

Izuku moved his strength to his thighs, lifting, back bending back and a peek of his abs flashing and his head dipping from view. Everything in Katsuki fucking ached to follow him up on that ride, but he kept his hands curled into balls of self-control.

Izuku rolled back with a smirk Katsuki could only describe as wet and nasty. Grit. Black like coals under a fire. He circled his hips slowly,  chasing his hands up and down his chest. He tugged on his pants and showed Katsuki the base of his cock before he let the fabric snap back.


Higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover

(Mouth open, you're high)

Flying like a streamer thinking of new ways to do each other

(Mouth open, you're high)

Pull out the incisor, give me two weeks, you won’t recognize her

Mouth open, you're high

Izuku crawled off his lap, hands scratching slowly down Katsuki’s parted thighs, and turned his back. Not that he minded the view from this angle, Izuku’s ass was the definition of apple bottom, but he wanted the show back on his lap.

He almost complained until Izuku came back down with his back to his chest and rolled on top of Katsuki.




Izuku tossed in some dirty groping—hands on his pectoral slithering quick and heated to his dick and inner thighs—to kick Katsuki into cardiac arrest.

Hard, he was absolutely, a thousand percent hard.

He needed his hands there, doing that job. Making Izuku wild and hot.

Izuku’s head rest on his collarbone. Katsuki turned his head and nuzzled the tip of his nose into Izuku’s curls.

Izuku turned his cheek, cupped a hand on Katsuki’s jaw, and crashed their mouths.

Katsuki finally laid hands on him. Cradled his cheek first because his tongue started to worm in his mouth and Izuku was sweet in there.  Touched the thickness of his neck and felt his pulse beat pretty and wild against his skin, on that same level of lust as Katsuki.  Groaned next because his hand found his pec and was pinching a nipple through his shirt and leeching the most whorish sounds out of Izuku from the same play.

Izuku ended the kiss and stared.

Katsuki worried he might’ve fucked up or Izuku was getting some cognitive thought in that brain of his. “Wanna stop?”

Izuku licked his red mouth. Katsuki’s ear buzzed as Izuku husked, low, “No. I want you to fuck me.”

He ghosted his mouth over Izuku’s, pressing his lips lightly. “Yea?”

“Yea.” He took Katsuki’s hand and smoothed it down to his cock. “Touch me. Finger me. Fuck me.”

Katsuki’s entire body took a swan dive into a pool of lava. Izuku’s cock filled his hand, curved and hard. He got this pretty boy twisted and wild on him, the thought was better than fucking dope. “O-oh fuck. Fuck.”

Izuku arched, whining as Katsuki played with his cock.  His kisses rain with no coordination on Katsuki’s face but he didn’t mind it, not with his eyes watching himself stroke Izuku. “Fuck, Katsuki, give it to me good.”

Katsuki ripped the front of his pants and underwear and pulled out Izuku’s cock.  He paused to bring his palm to his mouth and licked it and brought it back down.

Izuku whimpered. “Yes. God, yes.”

Katsuki bit his ear, so heavy in his body with desire.  Izuku gasped at the feel of teeth. “You fucking asshole. Why are you so fucking pretty all the damn time?”

“Katsuki,” Izuku moaned, pushing up his shirt to touch his chest. “Like that. Please.”

Katsuki pumped up and rolled his hand on the crown. His other hand dipped under Izuku’s clothes to fondle his balls. Izuku latched onto his mouth, slamming his tongue inside sloppily.

Katsuki pulled away, lips a buzzing red, and smacked Izuku’s outer thigh and tugged at the pant stretched around them. “Fuckin’ take this off.”

Izuku kissed him again, then got up. With a teasing smile shoot over his shoulder, Izuku bent at the waist, his plump ass curving out, and pushed the clothes slowly . He toed out and faced Katsuki.

“Shirt, man.”

Izuku pulled it over his head, his bicep and abs flexing. He balled the shirt and tossed it randomly in the dark.

Katsuki scooted to the edge of the sofa and kissed the cut of his pelvis, feeling and hearing a beautiful whimper from Izuku as he looked down. Katsuki licked the line of his V, teasingly close to Izuku’s swollen cock.

Katsuki nipped the skin, full with possession when Izuku’s pretty skin flushed pink from it.

Izuku brushed Katsuki’s hair, mouth open on soft moans. “Katsuki. Suck me, yea?”

“You mean this pretty thing?” Katsuki tugged messily on his cock. “Wanna me to suck this pretty cock dry with my mouth?

He bucked, nodding. “Yes, yes.”

“Feed it to me.”



“Hell yea. Open your mouth.”

Katsuki smirked wickedly and opened his mouth wide.

Izuku grabbed his cock and fed it to him, eyes fluttering shut as Katsuki’s wet mouth swallowed his cock.

He groaned because Izuku was just fucking filling him in, hot and hard in his mouth, and Izuku had his pretty green eyes fixed on his mouth sucking him in and pulling him out wetter and pinker. To have this attention. To steal Izuku’s who stole from everyone else in the club.

  Katsuki sucked back until the soft head was closed on his lips and mouth gently, treating it like a mouth to kiss. The fingers in his hair sized him in a tight grip. A gallery of filth raunchy enough to flush a porn star filled his mouth,; it was a good thing Izuku’s cock was in there instead or Katsuki might bla out the dirtiest and most obscene shit he could ever think of. Like I want to eat your cum, fuck my whore mouth, I want that tight ass on my face—you got the gist of it.

“Katsuki—fuck, so good. You’re so good at it, baby.”

Katsuki popped his cock out and stroked him wetly. “Baby?”

It was almost like Katsuki could see into Izuku’s brain as it slowly pinned together words, the dope and arousal already having an effect and shutting down parts of Izuku’s higher thinking. “Sorry, is it weird?”

“I don’t know.” The endearment felt personal and unfitting on Katsuki, though coming out of Izuku’s mouth he wouldn't mind it. “Like my name though.”

If sex could be measured and weighed like coke, then Katsuki would be in it deep enough to consider himself a drug lord—‘cause that was the full impact of Izuku’s pretty little mouth purring out, “Katsuki.”

“You still want it here, right?” Katsuki filled his hand with one ass cheek. Toned but with a layer of fat to sink his fingers into. He did that, absentmindedly, with an unchecked wish to have Izuku littered with his mouth and hands.

“I said ‘fuck me’, didn’t I?”

“I like hearing it twice.”

Izuku leashed Katsuki’s jaw and lifted his head up.  It wasn’t the first display of strength and dominance from Izuku and it gave Katsuki an idea to believe inside pretty Izuku was a hell of a power bottom.  

The glow from the TV outlined his back in blue while the yellow light inking from the windows behind them painted Izuku in hues of honey. “Fuck me, Katsuki.”

Katsuki kissed Izuku’s cock in farewell and set his hand on his ass cheek, lifting Izuku and taking him easily off the ground. Izuku’s greedy hands and mouth went wild as he carried Izuku from the sofa to the bed. Izuku bit and kissed him like he had been thinking about it for a while, cause he tried angles and patterns as though to test the reality to whatever fantasy he conjured up of Katsuki. It made Katsuki think that those fingers, those lips, were writing with invisible ink on his skin. Printing him with texts.







Katsuki let Izuku bounced on the mattress. A smile crossed Izuku’s lips before Katsuki swooped between his legs and licked it. A moan flavored his tongue. Izuku rutted shamelessly against Katsuki, kissing him harder and sloppier when he got that friction

. And it was too hot for Katsuki to care about his throbbing hard-on or that all his clothes ruined the effect of feeling Izuku rubbing him like a cat in heat—this fucking wild and powerful nature was something Katsuki rarely faced in bed. People wanted him to dominate, ruin them, fuck them up. Izuku was putting him on his ass, giving it good and asking for it back.

Katsuki slipped a thumb inside Izuku’s mouth and pulled back, Izuku closed his lips on it and sucked, eyes hungry from where he looked up at Katsuki with the message this could be your cock. You can get this all you want.

“Fuckin’ shit, Izuku.”

Izuku dragged his lip off his thumb, wet and slow. “You should put that in me.” He reached forward and cupped Katsuki’s cock. “Thick, too? Nice. Gonna have to get me real loose for this thing.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki whined, turned on like hell as Izuku simply groped his cock over his clothes.

“I want you naked, Katsuki.  Wanna see you. Wanna ride.”

And it was like someone was pouring molten metal into his ears. His cock twitched. He rocked into Izuku’s palm, feeling hot as a dying star.

“You’re so fuckin’...” Katsuki didn’t finish, he bit his way to Izuku’s mouth and nipped until he was certain Izuku might be bleeding.

Izuku  moved his hand back on his ass. “I want it here.”

“Shit. Okay. Lemme grab lube and shit.” Katsuki rummaged through the nightstand by the bed. Searching for lube and a condom, he didn’t hear Izuku move off the bed until his clothes pooled at his feet and Izuku’s hand and mouth were on his cock.

Katsuki slammed both hands on the stand and rolled into Izuku’s mouth. “I’m..fuck. Trying to do something.”

Izuku pulled off. “Sorry. Just really quick, okay? Lemme suck it a little more, please.”

Like he was going to fucking fight him on it—a guy just begging to suck him. Hello, wank material.

Katsuki stripped his shirt off and looked down the line of his six-pack to where Izuku was wrapped hot and wet on his cock. Eyes bad, green, and electric. Katsuki moved his cock out, saw that sweet glide of his cock feeling those pink lips.

 Izuku whined, mouth empty, and looked back up. “A little more.

“You like how I taste, Deku? Like having my cock in your mouth?”

His green eyes were gone under the shutters of his eyelids. Izuku rolled his teeth on his lower lip. When he popped his eyelids back, Katsuki took the action like a fist. “I like it. I like sucking your cock.”

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Katsuki tugged his cock. Izuku watched with a dazed distance in his eye.

“Katsuki, please. Wanna you so bad. Wanna have you in my mouth.”

“Be a good little slut and open your mouth. There, I’m gonna let you have some more, Izuku, then that’s all you’re getting because I’m not coming in there tonight.” He fed it back to Izuku with a desperate, shell of a groan stuttering out of him. Izuku took him easily. Eagerly. Eyes closing the second his cock made contact.

He sucked again, pumping the shaft as he bobbed back and forth.

Izuku ran his hands over Katsuki’s thick thighs to his ass and squeezed.  

“Fuck, fuck,” he panted, the beginning of an orgasm tugged heavily at his cock. “Gotta stop. Gonna fuckin’ cum, Izuku.”

Izuku let his lips dragged off slowly down his cock in the most obscene fashion, and this was the one time Katsuki ever in his life whimpered from anything.  The prick grinned a little too proudly for his taste, like he had privy to that knowledge.

He allowed the guy a moment to savor it before he yanked him up to his feet and then up in his arms. A hand on Izuku’s ass kept the guy stable since his legs hooked tight and naturally around his waist.

Apparently, it turned Izuku the fuck on because he was savaging his neck with bites and licks and moaning for him to fuck him good.

Katsuki grabbed the lube and condom after a few unsuccessful attempts—what, he had his mouth busy with some hungry ass little fuck— and carried Izuku to the bed. He laid Izuku, feeling hot and powerful when Izuku spread his thighs shamelessly.

He wanted to do the most depraved shit to Izuku. Take him in the sluttiest way does. Have him propped up and displayed like a toy. All the angle. All the views. A panoramic view. On knees and hands. On the side. To the wall. To the floor.

But to do any of that, Katsuki had to get away from his mouth and he didn’t have it in him to escape it. He kissed Izuku while he fumbled with the lube and slicked his fingers.

Izuku opened his legs wider, rolling his hips up. “C’mon. Finger me.” He rushed, voice sounding like something you would find in the woods under nightfall.

He still thought it was insane experiencing, seeing, tasting Izuku like this.

Katsuki smirked against his mouth.  He could practically feel Izuku’s skin vibrating, all buzzed and wild like an angry hive. “Easy, I’m gonna give it to you.”

He moaned. “No. Now. Fast.”

“You’re making it fucking hard not to shove my dick in you.”

“Yes, please. Do it.”

Katsuki kicked aside the teasing foreplay of winding Izuku hotter and pumped his finger in his ass.

Izuku seriously bucked, chest pressing into Katsuki’s. “Yes, like that. God.”

And Izuku couldn’t just do shit like that and not expect Katsuki to be calm and rational so it was his fault that his hand started thrusting madly inside Izuku. It was his fault for him introducing a second finger and spearing him harder and faster.

Izuku moved against the sheets, head tossing side to side, and made it impossible for Katsuki to kiss him. “Fuck me.”

“One more. Okay, one more finger? Cause once I’m inside, I’m not stopping for shit. I want you ready for my dick.” The third slipped in with so little resistance that Katsuki might actually be able to cum on the spot and get it back up in under a minute.

Izuku met the additional finger with double the amount of enthusiasm.

Katsuki tolerated this for a full minute before he was slicking his fingers out and sliding them on the packet of the condom. He tore the corner with his teeth since duh, lube fingers lost against plastic.

Izuku chirped under him, positioning himself right above the tip of his cock and rocked down in teasing brushes that only required one of them to apply the right amount of pressure to be inside the other.

“You are so fucking difficult to fuck,” Katsuki complained, trying to roll the rubber on while Izuku continued to rut against his dick.

“And you’re difficult at putting your dick in me.”

Katsuki got the rubber down to the base and put a hand on the base and lined himself up; and yea, Izuku learned to trade that snarky mouth for pretty moans once he felt him there. He spread his thighs without Katsuki asking, ready for it.

“Not so mouthy now, huh? Gonna be good for this dick?”

Izuku nodded, face yo-yo-ing from gorgeous ethereal angel descending from golden clouds to the dirty earth to the ten dollar whore who was cheap and bad and worth all the risks because she wore sex and slut on her skin like a dress. “I’ll be good. Please, let me have it.”


Katsuki hitched one of Izuku’s legs over his shoulder and grabbed his dick again, pushing in and choking on the heat, on the easy, easy glide inside Izuku, on that wet, tight squeeze around his cock.

Izuku chanted, “Yes, yes, yes.”

So Katsuki kept stuffing him at an easy pace where Izuku wasn’t overwhelmed by the girth of him. Once he bottomed out, it felt like his first breath was legitimately his first in centuries. As though he had lived in the dirt and got air through a thin straw.

Izuku’s palm lifted his head and guided Katsuki to his mouth. His teeth pulled on his bottom lip and sucked it. “Oh baby, you’re fuckin’ thick.”

Katsuki gasped. “You’re tight.”

Izuku had the balls to smile, sitting on Katsuki’s cock and he had this mad, sweet, sexy smile with his white teeth and dark voice. “Better fix that, then. Better fuck me so hard I get loose.”  He put Katsuki’s mouth under some sinister treatments, leaving it a disaster and Katsuki’s a mess inside.

Katsuki started rocking. Pulling out in centimeters where he and Izuku were both moaning and puffing in soft, dirty sounds but the pace got stale, got to not enough and he rammed faster. Started taking inches out and pounding them back hard where Izuku was actually moving on the bed from the thrusts.

Izuku used his sleek muscles, so good for wrapping around poles, and did the same to Katsuki. Contorted himself to fill the gap. Bounced himself down on Katsuki’s cock whenever he pulled out. At some point, Izuku whipped Katsuki on his back and took him on a fucking ride. Worked his cock like the pole but better, faster, hotter.

Katsuki ran his hands up his thighs, riveted by the flexing of his quads.

Izuku arched, rolling and circling on his dick like his personal toy.

“Baby,” Katsuki slipped out by accident, horny as hell. “Baby. Like that. Ride it. Fuck. So close, so close.”

“A little more, c’mon. Just a little more, yes, yes.” Izuku doubled the pace, bouncing hard and fast where his dick slapped wetly against his stomach.

 Katsuki clutched his hips and helped him get up and down.

Izuku tipped forward, still bouncing, and kissed him. “Almost, almost.”

“Yea,” Katsuki rasped, blindly reaching under Izuku for his dick, he found the hot curve and pumped it messily.  “Cum on my dick. Fucking wanna feel you cum on me.”

Izuku mewled, becoming louder and breathy against his mouth. “So close. Fuck. Yes, yes.” Suddenly, Izuku stilled, cumming across Katsuki’s stomach with a gasping moan.

Katsuki pounded into him madly then, no longer having the need to delay his orgasm, and chased after it until the tension in him snapped and cum filled the condom.







Katsuki woke up randomly in the middle of the night. The fat moon washed the small apartment in white. Izuku had his back to him, curled in a ball.

He should let him sleep since work and school were practically putting him on the ropes of exhaustion but— Katsuki moved behind Izuku and kissed his neck. Instantly, Izuku uncurled and opened his legs. “Again?”

“Real quick. I’ll be fast.” He teased Izuku’s hole and groaned loudly when he could fit two fingers in easily.

Izuku hooked his leg over Katsuki’s hip. “Katsuki.”





The second time Katsuki woke up, it was decidedly less pleasant since one, there was a missing hot freckled little booty, and two, he had a stiff morning wood and no one to take care of it. The traffic outside floated into the room—horns blaring, shrieking tires, a hey I’m walking ‘ere, pigeons hooting, some pop idol singing on the radio. Katsuki considered slamming the windows, drawing the blinds, and rolling back into his bed but he heard the squeak of a dial and the dwindling spray of a shower. His shower.

Izuku strolled—wobbled— out, wet hair, wet body, and blessedly naked.


Wait, so last night was not a fever dream from the pot?

Right the fuck on, Katsuki!

Izuku finally noticed Katsuki’s wild bedhead and the slick smirk and covered his cock. “Sorry. I left my clothes on…the floor cause that’s where I left them and I went to the shower because I’m…sweaty.”

He folded his arms behind his head and lounged back with the sheets poorly shielding his thighs and  dick. .“Because we fucked.”

Izuku’s eyes made a detour down Katsuki before he blinked away. “Yea. That.”

“Don’t be shy, let the boy hang out.”

Izuku looked as though he wanted to find a hole and hide in it. “Please, take me to school.”

“I can’t believe you won’t let me see your dick after you blew—“

A cushion smacked him with surprising force. “I’ll get ready.”

Katsuki eased the bike to the curb.

“Thanks for the ride,” Izuku said, and gingerly dismounted.

Katsuki leaned his elbows on the handlebars with a fat cat grin. “Shouldn’t I thank you for the ride you gave me last night?”

Izuku limped to a stop, turned, and glared. A real glare from Izuku of all people, it was so cute; he thought it was menacing, aw. “If my ass didn’t hurt so much, I would punch you.”

“Well you bit me. A lot. I dig battle scars though.”

“Oh my god.” Izuku cringed. “I have…classes.”

“You go do that, baby.”

Izuku limp-ran into the horde of college students, ears visibly red.






“Why are you limping?’ Uraraka asked once Izuku lowered himself on the stool.

Tenya looked over, endearingly naïve. “What’s that red mark on your neck?”

Izuku ignored them and got out his notes and textbook. Looked like it scarves and turtlenecks were coming early this season.

Uraraka, on the other hand, did not share Tenya’s inexperience. Her eyes studied the marks, the damning flush on his face, the careful way he adjusted his butt, the wince when he wasn’t as careful as he thought. “Did you…did you get dick last night?”

“Come on, Izuku is not the type to sleep with some random guy like a thot,” Tenya said, laughing at the suggestion.

Izuku’s response was a shameful silence, followed shortly with a squeaky. “I got dick.”

Tenya gasped. “Izuku.”

Uraraka hugged him. “That’s my boy. Look at you hoeing out.” She hummed wistfully. “ I remembered my first time not dating a guy and sleeping with him. I ran away in the morning and we never spoke again, it was great. Guys are all weird and clingy after you fuck them.”

“You should not be encouraging this. Were you safe? Did you swallow? We have to go to Planned Parenthood right now and get tested.”

“I mean…I-we…both we each other,” he stammered.

“Oh cool, 69? Nice,” Uraraka approved. “On your side or you on top—“


Tenya squinted. “What’s 69?”


“Okay, 69 is when you put your head near their dick or vagina and they put their head near yours and you suck or lick each other.”

Their friend brightened with a flush. “That sounds disgusting.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m giving it another year before the prune in you turns into a kink monster. Anyway, who was the guy? Is he in our class? Or did you meet him at work, it’s not a client right?”


“Oh. My. God. Shut up. For real?”

Izuku nodded then buried his head, the image of Katsuki sliding his cock into his mouth a very vivid one. God, he wasn’t ever so…kinky in the bedroom but the pot hit him and, he wouldn’t lie , he had the hots for Katsuki since day one and their weekly guy nights egged it on to a full-on crush.

Great, he fucked the guy he was pinning for.

Uraraka was foaming at the mouth with excitement.  “Is he big?” She asked, then said mostly to herself. “I bet he’s big down there. He looks like a guy with a huge cock. Does he have his dick pierced—“

Tenya furiously attempted to listen and take note from their professor “ I don’t want to think about Katsuki in bed with Izuku.”

“Is he good? He topped right, no offense. Momo is convinced Katsuki fucks like an angry bull—“

“Stop, stop, we are here to learn,” Tenya cut her off, extremely red under the collar.

“I am learning,” she said. “About Katsuki’s dick.”

Izuku wished he could change his body composition and melt into the table like water.

“I mean, if we had to fuck one of our co-workers, I would do Katsuki. Then Shouto. Eijirou. Definitely Momo if you give me tequila. Toshinori too, he has a daddy vibe.”

“That’s more than one.”

“Tenya, it’s called an orgy. What do you do with your dick, seriously?”

“I pee with it, of course!”

Izuku lowered his head, aware that the students nearest to their table were watching. “I want to die.”

“If I had a dick, I would bang everyone.”

“Good for you!”






Katsuki whistled into his shift, thirty minutes early.

Eijirou watched him stroll from behind the bar, blinking twice to prove his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Shouto’s face mirrored his friend.

They looked at each other then back to Katsuki’s shrinking back.

“Katsuki was whistling,” said Eijirou.

Shouto snuck another look to Katsuki who disappeared into the men’s restroom. The whistling continued muddled slightly by the swinging door and the stream of piss hitting the bowl.

“Don’t be surprised if the police arrest him again.”

“We should relocate him,” Eijirou rubbed his mouth. “Mexico! It’s safe there.”

Shouto and Eijirou hushed, hearing Katsuki turn on the tap. “You know his Spanish is bad. Watch, Katsuki, tu es puto.”

The water stopped, Katsuki shouted from the restroom. “What about Pluto?”

Eijirou chuckled nervously when Shouto looked back, his argument demonstrated.

The redhead tapped his chin and brightened when an idea struck him. “Canada.”

“Good idea.”

“Hey, assholes.” Katsuki walked over, fanning his wet hands. “Seriously, did you call me a planet?”

“How do you feel about Canada?”

“I feel it’s not America.”

“Did you…like kill anyone?”

“What the fuck, no!”

“You just looked…happy.”

“Shouto,” he started, and being friends with Katsuki for years told him whenever Katsuki started anything with his name it would be followed promptly by an insult or death warrant. “ I hope you gag on the pole tonight and slowly suffocate to death.”

Fanning his collar, Eijirou exhaled. “Whew, I was worried there for a minute.”

“Can’t a guy be in a good mood,” he grumbled, actively working to fit his expression back into a poor one but the stupid memory of Izuku in his bed warm and curled, Izuku’s fierce kisses,  Izuku flustered after he used his shower, Izuku’s dancer body coiled around him as he drove his bike, chased away the bad vibes.

He wouldn’t see Izuku tonight, he’d put in a request for a next few days off about two weeks ago, and with good timing too because he doubted Izuku could work the pole like he did every night. The shift dragged. A few regulars showed. Katsuki kicked out one guy who was strangely polite and apologetic about groping Momo’s boobs and wrote on a business card his personal number and the amount of his bank account. Shouto danced, not as well or as sexy as Izuku but he might be biased and he might not find Shouto attractive in that way.

He went home, bored with an unfamiliar ache in his heart like someone pickpocketed him on the street. He thought about texting Izuku but remembered the stress on his face and the passion to ace this exam.








 He wasn’t proud of it but Katsuki became a sort of stalker once Izuku returned from his mini vacation. Motioning all his steps in the club. Checking his days when Toshinori printed up the new week. Zoning in and out of work so frequently, Toshinori tugged on his earlobe in reprimand, and Toshinori’s fist matched the size 18-inch rims. In no world, did you want anything of that size tugging anywhere soft.

Izuku dipped out early, excuses about projects and reports fluttering in the air.

The delays between his texts grew. Katsuki got one meme if he was lucky.

After two weeks, Katsuki had enough.

Izuku shouldered his bag and attempted to slip out unnoticed as the crew chatted , everyone clocking out at a languid pace. But what the little shit failed to notice was Katsuki clocked out before the whole crew and had a mounting obsession.

Hand coiling out from one of his pockets, Katsuki jerked Izuku from freedom to a wall. “Okay, douchebag, what’s with the avoiding me bullshit?”

Izuku brushed off his hand and readjusted the strap and slid one hand into the pockets of his sweats. The waistband lower. Katsuki got a peek at the collection of freckles he had very personal experience with. “Dude, I’m busy with school.”

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki grumbled. “Be legit, Izuku.”

A great splash of red made Izuku look young again like the student he was and not the stripper who rubbed poles and had Benjamins stuffed in his thong. “What do you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” he nearly shouted; why was he being put on the spot? Izuku acted flakey toward him, by that logic, Izuku should be the one begging for forgiveness. “ Something. Not this fucking shit. “ He gestured aggressively to the gap between them. “Was it bad? I thought you came.”

A crease crinkled around his large eyes as an unbidden smile crossed his lips; some voice smothered under lust and sex said Izuku’s genuine smile outdid the manufactured sex smiles. “Stop saying those words,” he whined, head lowered in embarrassment.

“Came. Cum,” he drawled without care. Creating a space, Katsuki slumped his spine into a lazy hunch. “What happened to little thot Izuku? That guy was a fucking ride.”

“Don’t bust my balls,” he said with an edge. Edges Katsuki could read—in prison, everyone had one to mask the fear— the edge in Izuku’s spoke of an old vulnerability. A healed scar, no longer a living ache but a visible reminder of it.

It was silly but Katsuki forgot Izuku had a past with unpleasant memories like him and Shouto. The guy wore smiles like he was the spokesperson for happiness and puppies.

Katsuki dialed his voice for something less like an atomic bomb. “I’m not.” At that admission, Izuku popped his head up and waited for him to add more. “It was hot as fuck. And I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, but you’re hot as fuck too.”

Izuku with his wide forest eyes outlined the shape of him under his clothes as if he was undressing him from the memory of that night. Smug pride sat heavy on Katsuki’s face before he could curb it.

Izuku realized he was blatantly eyeing Katsuki like a prime streak and forced his attention back up. “You want to…?”

The cruel to his mouth was downright filthy and something sex shop kept tucked and hidden from the casual buyer in the back room. “Fuck you? Yeah. I’m already suffering withdrawal.”

He chanced a step, careful of not pressuring Izuku as much as he thought of him and ached for him under his body, Izuku was still a chill guy that he respected.

Izuku swallowed. Clouds crawled at a snail pace in the inky sky and their shadows ran organic shapes on Izuku. Blanketed him in white light then gray shadows. “Don’t you have to be a chronic user to get that?”

“It’s hot too when you talk like a doctor. My dick gets all fucking hard.”

“Oh my god,” he doubled over in laughter and righted up with a wide smile once he got a good chuckle out.

Katsuki traced a finger along the pronounced collar bones cooling with sweat. A miniature shiver vibrated under it. Lust ran in his veins, a heavy hot sludge that he could feel slowly his entire body. “Dr. Midoriya, you gonna let me fucking suffer?”

“Wow. So I’m at fault?”

Those fingers walked up Izuku’s neck. “Fuck yeah. Fix it by letting me stick it in you.”

“So rom,” he teased.

Katsuki could feel the telling bump-da-bump of Izuku’s pulse. He brushed his fingers tentatively on Izuku’s jaw. “What’s more romantic than being sexually harassed under the moon and in a nasty alleyway?”

“Your apartment,” Izuku slurred, voice that dirty, neon dark pitch.

“There’s that thot.”

Izuku shot his hand out and fisted Katsuki’s shirt and snapped his mouth to his.

And god, that little fucking show of strength sent Katsuki up the damn wall.

He groaned and cast away the restraints subduing his passion and grabbed at Izuku like a man at the edge. Katsuki squatted, severing the wet smack and greet of mouths, and dipped with Izuku’s hot gaze watching him and cupped him behind the knees. Izuku moaned, letting himself fold into hold, and hooked his ankles over the swell of Katsuki’s ass.

Katsuki placed a hand under his ass and tugged the strap of his backpack, dropping it, and introduced Izuku’s back to the wall.

“God,” he groaned. “Katsuki.”

Katsuki snarled, applying his tongue and teeth to every inch of skin available to him. “Been wanting this. Thinking this. Fucking Izuku, you shit bag. Not letting me have this.”

“Me too, me too,” he panted, the words coming out as wet breaths on the shell of his ear. The wet quality of it drove a spark of pleasure down to Katsuki’s cock. “Wanted you. Wanted your cock so bad. Got no idea.”

Inelegantly, Katsuki smashed their mouths together, nearly cutting Izuku’s lips with his untamed power. “Then fucking ask, don’t fucking run.”

“Fuck me, Katsuki. Want you in me.”






They came to an arraignment. Friends with benefits.  They’re both hot and they found each other incredibly attractive and work presented ample opportunities to sneak away kisses and blowjobs. The guys at Izuku’s school either didn’t find him attractive —Katsuki seriously wondered how good was a university if their student body found a knockout like Izuku unattractive?— or he didn’t have the time to maintain a relationship between work, school, and friends.  And in Katsuki’s case, he couldn’t stand the people going up to him for his number.

So it worked out.

They fucked then passed the following hour with video games or TV or study session if Izuku felt the overwhelming need to brush up on his memory. They were all things Katsuki could do without trouble or irritation.






Izuku was a polite guy so he didn’t voice a question when Momo and Uraraka trade a meaningful look to one another then to himself. Uraraka mentioned to Momo. She turned to Izuku, mouth opening, and looked to Uraraka.


No she did not tell Momo.

Uraraka rolled her eyes and nudged Momo aggressively. “Oh my god, ask.”

“So Katsuki…” Momo started with a blush.

“Uraraka,” Izuku whined. “You told her.”

Momo sparkled. “So it’s true, does he have a huge cock—“

Izuku slammed his fork, skin twenty shades of scarlet and counting. “Why does everyone want to know if his cock is huge? I’m the one sucking it. No one else is sucking it…And I just said that. I just said that. Out loud. Now that old lady gave me a thumbs up. I can never come back to this Denny’s.”

“…So like it’s big, right?”

“I don’t measure it,” Izuku snatched a napkin and folded it.

“But it’s in your mouth.”

“Where’s the waiter?” He fanatically waved one to the table. “Water, please.”

Uraraka chewed on her pancake. “Yea, gotta lube that throat for the dick sucking.”

“Please, stop.”

“It’s big,” Momo concluded. “Does he send you dick pics? He looks like he does. Can I see?”

“No he doesn’t.”

He did.

He had a whole folder in his phone dedicated to Katsuki’s dick pics but those were for his eyes only; plus privacy. You didn’t share nudes with other people.

Izuku’s Iphone buzzed.



Picture message



Guess who fuckin horny and wants cock?



Its me, dickhead. if I don’t have a cock in my mouth in the next 20 mins I’m not talking to u



Picture message







Izuku cornered him after his dances, hard and aching, and Katsuki answered often by sinking to his knees and licking Izuku’s cock like a whore until Izuku was moaning weakly and cumming hard in his mouth. Katsuki walked the club afterward with the taste of Izuku in his mouth and deep satisfaction in his stomach because all these jokes came every night for Izuku. They ordered dances. Chatted with plain desire. All in the hope of stealing Izuku. And fucking Katsuki was the one doing that. Getting that. Living in that glory, knowing Izuku’s eyes watched him on the pole, on the stage, on their laps.

They all wanted Izuku.

Too bad, I got him now, he thought as he waited in the parking lot for Izuku to sneak away from the others. The moon washed silver on his face and hair as he walked out the back door and strode toward Katsuki.

“Hey,” he smirked right before Izuku slammed their lips together. Katsuki fisted his hair and growled into his mouth because Izuku’s kisses were fucking sucker punches. Disabling. Disorienting. Disarming. Silencing all his senses. Dulling his mind.

Izuku pulled back slightly, breathing directly into Katsuki’s mouth. “I want you so bad.”

“Thinkin’ about me? What a bad stripper.”

“Want your mouth on me,” he panted, moving his mouth in soft presses over Katsuki’s. Never quite firm. Never quite wet. Never quite hot.  They only brushed and sent off landmines in Katsuki.

He grabbed his hips and snapped Izuku hard against his bulging hard-on. “Hell yea, where you want it, Izuku? I’ll lick wherever.”

Izuku took his hands and smoothed them on his ass, moving them under the fabric of his clothes and curled them over the swell. “Here.”

Katsuki easily did the math and started groping Izuku without further instruction, filling his hands at first and then gripping his asscheeks to expose his hole. “Fuck. Hell yeah.”







“This is the best fucking day ever,” Katsuki rasped, lifting his head up from the part of Izuku’s thighs.

Izuku moaned weakly. “You’re not done down there.” He grabbed a fistful of Katsuki’s blonde hair and directed him back to his twitching hole.

Katsuki growled and jammed his tongue inside and hooked his thumbs on the rim to widen it.

“Katsuki—fuck.” Izuku’s spine snapped up, he lifted to his elbows and drunkenly looked at the spike of blond hair moving against his ass. “ Good, so good. Make me cum, c’mon.”






“Here,” Izuku handed the controller to Denki after the match ended. “Gotta pee.”

Katsuki watched him and suctioned his mouth on the rim of the bottle. He bobbed on it lightly like a cock.

Izuku nodded, then got up under the pretense of using the bathroom.

No one really commented or looked when not more than two minutes later, Katsuki was excusing himself to the kitchen. “Gonna put a few beers in the fridge.”

He sidestepped around the guys and strolled lazily out the room.

A smirk  broke out the second Izuku stole him away into the bathroom. “Mmm, what ya want, you dirty boy?”

Izuku unzipped his fly and pressed firmly on Katsuki’s shoulder. “Suck me. Swallow it all.”

“Doctor orders,” Katsuki grinned, dipping low and sensual to his knees. He finished the job and shoved Izuku’s jeans and boxer briefs to stretch around his thick thighs  “What a pretty cock,” he purred and pressed a feather-light kiss to the shaft.

Izuku bucked and whined low in his throat. “Katsuki. Put it in your mouth, please.”

Katsuki’s blood fucking sang cause that voice saying his name, whimpering it, coating it with a layer of sweetness.

God, he loved when Izuku talked dirty.

Katsuki peppered more fluttering kisses, then upped it with a little wetness from his tongue to set Izuku on the edge.  His hips rolled crudely, seeking pleasure.  He sunk his nails into the fleshy part of Izuku’s muscular thighs and stopped him from getting any mouth.

“Please,” he moaned, wiggling against the counter where Katsuki pinned him. “Daddy.”

Kastuki pulled off with a string of pre-cum attached to his pink lips. “Daddy?”

Izuku covered his mouth. “Oh my god.”

“That’s so fucking hot,” he groaned, feeling the heat of those words like a bat to his face. Lowering his mouth, Katsuki lapped sloppily on his cock, smearing spit and pre-cum down the shaft and on his mouth. “Say it again. Call me daddy. Ask daddy to suck your pretty cock.”

“Daddy,” Izuku stammered, a little hesitant to say the word again with the guys being no more than a few rooms away but he couldn’t deny the twist of heat from whispering it. “Daddy, suck my cock. Please.”

“Fuck, Izuku. Daddy’s gonna take care of you. Gonna swallow it too, okay?” Katsuki rasped.

Izuku should’ve taken it as a warning because Katsuki was literally deep throating him to the base.

“Fuck!” Izuku’s hips flew off the counter and deep into Katsuki’s mouth. “Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

Katsuki moaned, a total whore right now. A complete slut. He wanted to cum from licking Izuku’s cute cock, he didn’t care. Each thrust from Izuku tested his jaw and made breathing difficult, but the sight of Izuku going ravage and madly fucking his mouth like a paid whore made it worthwhile.

He groped Izuku’s ass and let him set the pace, taking each pump like a good daddy. Tears shimmered and distorted his vision. That excited Izuku, who gave the most pornographic groan and pumped his cock faster.

“Swallow it, okay?” he panted, wild curls pasted to his forehead. Katsuki gave a thumbs up to let him know he was ready. “Gonna cum, gonna cum. Please, daddy. Shit, ah.”

Not an ounce of shame overcame Katsuki as he milked out Izuku’s orgasm. He popped off, smirked proud, and opened his mouth, displaying his red tongue perfectly clean.

Izuku lost all the strength in his legs and melted to the floor.

“Daddy kink?” Katsuki hummed as he crawled off and kissed Izuku’s freckles. “So fucking dirty.”

“…I didn’t think that was in me.”

“That’s not the only thing in you,” Katsuki moved his hand directly on his swollen cock. “Daddy’s not done.”

“We can’t,” Izuku protested, but unzipped Katsuki’s fly and played with his cock through the layer of his boxer briefs.

“Yeah. I’ll cum super fucking quick. That sit turned me the fuck on.”

“No condoms,” Izuku said into the skin of his neck as he sucked it.

“Fuck. Shit.”

“I wish you could,” he mumbled drunkenly, stroking Katsuki more freely once he pulled his cock out of his underwear. “Wish you could fuck me here, daddy. Put me on my hands and knees and shove your dick in me.”

Katsuki let the talk wash down him like a fiery tidal wave. Izuku’s dirty voice and the wet sound of his dick being stroke fueled him fast toward his climax.

 “Izuku, fuck,” he whimpered, spurting cum over Izuku’s fingers.

They cleaned up, traded sex depleted kisses, and timed their return two minutes apart.

Shouto eyed them critically. “Took a while.”

Izuku pinked and thrust himself into the conversation Denki and Eijirou were having over the IT remake.

“He’s super creepy this time. Not like the old one, how is that scary?”

“Because he looks normal! Why are we fighting, get outta my house with that horseshit.”

“Fuck you, put it on and try to be frightened by his pastel outfit.”

Shouto switched his sights over to Katsuki.

“What?” Katsuki shouted, surreptitiously wiping his mouth. “I get I’m hot as fuck but you need to keep dreaming, pal. You ain’t licking this lollipop. Get fucked.”

“Does your ass get jealous?”

“Jealous of what?”

“Of all the shit coming out your mouth.”

“You motherfucker.”







“Dude,” Denki whispered. “Are Katsuki and Izuku dating?”

Shouto and Eijirou turned their gaze over to where Katsuki and Izuku traded spoons of ice cream. Izuku dipped his plastic spoon into the ice cream mountain and fed it to Katsuki. A few people stared, the whole world was still adjusting to same-sex couples, not that the two were official in any way but you could read the chemistry between them and tell it was not friendly.

The two looked back at the flavors, deciding.

“I mean,” Eijirou started.

Shouto continued. “They’re something. Honestly, we’re betting on who finally askes out who.”

“Wait, they’re fucking?”

Eijirou made a face as though he could not believe Denki was that airheaded. “Denki, they literally disappeared for ten minutes and came back sweaty.”

“Wait, they were fucking in my bathroom?”

“Denki, you need to lay off pot if you’re missing big ass signs like that—Hi, yes, can I have the chocolate mint, please? Whip cream only, thank you.” Shouto said.

Denki’s spoon paused in the air as he processed everything.

Eijirou got in his order next and walked with Shouto to the two idiots who were definitely doing more than just rubbing dirty under the sheets. Izuku laughed at  Katsuki’s phone, pressed close to the guy as they watched shitty memes.

“Have you seen the one with the dog that sounds like a Tie Fighter?”

“Lemme look that up.”

They giggled again—Izuku snorting hard out his nose and Katsuki spitting out his ice cream. Katsuki pounded his fist on the table.

“Oh my fucking god,” Izuku gasped finally. “Kacchan, you’re so gross.”

“Fuck you, fuck you.”

Shouto sighed, grabbing a few napkins. “Children.”

Eijirou ran over and looked behind them to watch the screen. “I love that meme, play it again.”

“Kacchan, wipe the cum off the screen.”

“Of course you would think its cum, Izuku. Slut.”

Izuku smiled like it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. “Asshole.”

Denki collected himself after a few minutes and approached the table, looking at the backs of Katsuki’s and Izuku’s head as they watched stupid videos on YouTube. “Did you guys fuck in my bathroom?”

“What? W—why would we do that? Like no, man.” Izuku lied, criminally red in the face.

“Gross. Gay. Stop thinking of me and Izuku naked, dude, not cool.” Katsuki yelled to deflect the inquisition.






“You bought me food?” Katsuki glared at the bags in his tiny kitchen.

Izuku started unloading the bags, saying as he worked. “Yes because I keep thinking of you dying in this place all alone. And I think I don’t want you dead for a while.”

Look at this shit—strawberries, orange juice, beard, un-expired milk, beans, rice, feta cheese, fresh olives, deli meat, honey; how adult.

Katsuki crossed his arms and decided bitching and sneering at the adult food was the best way to help Izuku. “Fuck you. I don’t need your god damn charity—hey is that Cheetos? Oh fuck yea, gimme.”

“Katsuki, that’s a snack,” said Izuku, exasperated.

Katsuki filled a large bowl and pulled a chair at the even smaller table. “It’s fucking dinner now.”

He swiped the bowl. “No. You’re eating real food.”

“It’s cheese. Cheese is real food.”

“I’m a med student, fuck out with that logic.”

Katsuki threw his back into the chair, childishly. “Boo, you suck cock, cocksucker.”

“You keep talking smack and I won’t suck what you want me to suck very badly.”

“…So what’s for dinner?”






It’s just sex.

I want to fuck him.

That’s all.


Katsuki stood shoulder to shoulder as Izuku showed him how to cut up vegetables for the sauce. “Here,” he sliced a red pepper and handed him the halves. “You wanna take the seeds out, that’s what makes it hot. Oh! And don’t rub your eyes without washing your hands.”

Katsuki made to poke his eye, wanting to goad out a reaction from Izuku.

Izuku gasped and yanked on his arm. “You better not.”

He tried again, feeling fuzzy when Izuku laughed with a goofy smile. “Oh my god. Stop, you doofus.”

“Doofus? What a weak roast.”

“You know what’s weak that I have to cook for you to eat real food,” snarked Izuku.

“…Okay,” Katsuki said, “That was bogus as fuck.”

“Don’t call my game weak.” He poked him.

“I think I’m going to cry in my tiny shower.”

Izuku bumped his hip. “You can cry in my arms.”

“That’s too gay. I don’t do hugs. Now if I can cry on your cock then I can do that.”

Izuku poked him again. “Shut up. Here, throw the seeds out again.”

Dutifully, he scooped out the seeds out of the yellow bell peppers and gave them back to Izuku to slice. Once he cut up all the vegetables, Izuku oiled up the pan with olive oil that he had bought along with everything else. The pan hissed when he threw in everything.

Katsuki watched Izuku work with his elbows on the counter. Surprisingly he didn’t feel bored or annoyed by the dull activity. Izuku had the ability to make the most mundane things enjoyable.

Noise from his cell broke the trance Izuku put him under, he tapped the screen and saw it was a text from Denki.


Wanna blaze? Got some ppl with me. Gonna get wild.

Izuku hummed the melody to Taylor Swift’s Blank Space, not noting Katsuki’s deep stare.

He tapped the screen again and texted a reply.

Nah. I’m cool.







They ate Izuku’s home cooked meal and dully watched TV. Kind of a boring night, but Izuku made it pleasant. Always talking. Always trying to engage Katsuki into a conversation. When he cleaned his plate, Izuku was sweet enough to get him seconds without Katsuki saying a single word. To pay Izuku back for the food and his patience, he washed the dishes until Izuku jumped in, not backing down when Katsuki shouted at him to sit his ass down.

When they got into bed, they slept.

It took ten minutes of snuggling Izuku for Katsuki to realize something was up with that. They didn’t have sex. Hell, there wasn’t any groping or dick rubbing. He kissed Izuku’s freckled cheek and his collars and his hands like some rom film.

I don’t want to fuck him

Scratch that, I do, but I like this too, I think.

Izuku shifted beside him and burrowed into Katsuki’s chest.

He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

They’d fuck in the morning, no biggie. Set the world back in order.

Fuck buddies/ snuggle buddies.







It was one of those times Shouto and Katsuki were open. Chest cavity wide and bleeding. They’re often not the type to showcase anything—Shouto had his aura of indifference and apathy and Katsuki rode on anger and dry humor. The one person in their odd group who didn’t have this issue was Eijirou, but the guy was honest and open about everything. Not in a bad way. He was the crystal clear surface of the river and they laid in the undiscovered depths of the sea.

They ditched the party going on in Sero’s place and sat on the roof and watched the darkening sky brighten up from the hundreds of buildings that made up New York.

Katsuki looked at Shouto’s somber profile in the night. He flicked his ear lightly, tired of that expression sitting on his face. “What’s up?”

Shouto’s mismatched eyes narrowed in confusion before he looked away. “Oh…My old man.”

“Giving you shit?” He guessed.

Shouto had troubles with his father from day one and the relationship grew more strained and awkward when Shouto dropped out of Norte Dame to come back to NYC. Katsuki’s old man wasn’t in the picture for long so he could never advise Shouto on the matter but he listened whenever Shouto needed an ear.

“As opposed to?” He tried a smile.

“This is just me but…I’m kinda glad you dropped Norte Dame. It sucked without you.”

Shouto peeled the label on his beer. “It sucked for me too. Everyone was…”


“Yea but like, cause they have it different. You get me? They’re normal people.”

“Oh yea, I forgot we’re all the freaks here,” he said. “You and me. Eijirou is so normal, I’m surprised none of us has tried to smother him.”

Shouto fired him a look. “Shut up. You’ll be the first one to sing Dust in the Wind at his funeral and cry.”

Katsuki averted his eyes. Yea, he came off as a dick quite often and busted his friend’s balls all the time but he actually cared deeply for the people who stuck around and endured his bullshit. “He’s alright. You’re alright too. I think we’re doing alright even though the world thinks we’re the fuck-ups. College dropout. Former convict. Another college dropout.”

“We have a theme,” he laughed honestly.

“Izuku all normal too.”

“He can’t be if he likes you,” Shouto joked, moving away when Katsuki made to pinch his ribs.

“Oh very nice. I thought we were being cool.”

Shouto sipped his beer. “Are you fucking him or dating him?”

He chewed his lip, not knowing the answer himself. “Fuck if I know anymore. If he’s smart then he’ll move on.”

“Dude, you’re every romance film right now.”

Katsuki pulled up his leg from the edge where it dangled and bounced it. The beer was making him loose and made it easy for the insecurities inside him to come peeking out into the daylight. “Shouto, I have a record. I’m not doing shit with my life. Izuku is going to med school soon. Where the fuck does a convict fit into Grey’s Anatomy, huh? “

“You beat some guy up, so? Get over it.”

He recoiled, for once taking the blow from Shouto to heart. It was a fresh wound. His shock replaced quickly with a sneer. “Fuck you.”

Shouto combed his hair, the move fast and jerky and unlike his collected self. The expression might be small, but in Shouto’s world it spoke loud as a hurricane. “Look, I said that wrong.”

“No shit, pal,” he grumbled, still wounded though he could get it. They were the guys to try to say something honest and end up hurting someone’s feelings without intending to.

“Shut up. I meant stop seeing yourself that way. No one does. No one cares. You’re not Katsuki, the criminal. You’re Katsuki, the asshole. Big difference.”

He rubbed his eyes. “We need to buy weed or we might get over our deeply rooted issues.”

“You’re right. Let’s regress. Fuck my dad.”

“Hell yea. I bet he isn’t even a real ginger, fucking liar. I saw that empty bottle of Manic Panic.”

“And fuck you for saying you’re not shit. Fuck anyone who thinks that.”

 “Is this the part where we hug and cry?”

“If you go by movie logic, yes.”

“Let’s get Eijirou and get pizza.”

“That’s a better plan.”






Katsuki was on private room duty which boiled down to him patrolling up and down the neon pink lit halls and peeking behind the beaded curtains to make sure everyone was abiding by the rules. He checked in on Momo, seeing her full body slink around the pole with the elegance of a cat. Her client lounged on the booth, dick tenting his pant, but otherwise respectful. No camera. No soliciting. No bribes or pleads for sex.

He stepped back just as she undid the straps of her bra and walked to the entrance.

Izuku came back, leading a client by the hand.

Katsuki glared at the man’s sleazy face. He rapped his knuckles to the sign.




“See that? Good, I fucking hate repeating the rules.” To Izuku, he said. “Last room is open.”


When Izuku wasn’t looking, Katsuki glared again at the guy to let him know Izuku was under his protection and was not to be fucked with. He really hated when they put him on patrol here. Izuku dancing on the stage was one thing but to watch him take guys to the back where he couldn’t see him set him on edge. A giant gaping blind spot.

He watched the dancers to mellow out his frustration and pushed the image of Izuku straddling another guy out of his mind.

We’re not a couple.

We’re friends who fuck.

And Izuku’s a stripper, it’s his job to get on laps since when did I let it bother me this much?

Hanta walked up to him, ready to rotate job duties.

Katsuki ignored the hand he offered in greeting and nodded moodily, driven into a sour mood by his own thoughts, and started to sulk to the front entrance when he something banged against the wall.

Hanta glanced at him, hearing it too, and tried to listen. Something slammed again, enough where one of the dancers ran out of the room to check it out. Momo went into the last room. Panic solidified in him, a physical restraint, a sickly dark sludge rapidly replacing the blood in his veins. It swallowed everything for an instant before he shattered the casket it buried him in and rushed for the room.

Hanta shouted for Toshinori and Shouta.

The bead curtain jingling behind him, Katsuki entered the private room and scanned the pink room until he saw Izuku pinned against the wall, one arm lounged into the client’s throat.

Katsuki went ballistic.

Didn’t even take a damn second for him to get the situation in reserve and have the client grunting as his back hit the wall. Katsuki took a swing, missed with a purpose and let the guy see the huge dent in the wall. Dully, plaster cut his knuckles but Katsuki was adept at muting certain senses.

He got like this before. This angry. This catastrophic. A level six natural disaster.

He went to prison last time.

Katsuki made a fist, ready to go back to prison all over again.

His hand flew but never landed. Never gave him that satisfaction of bone hitting bone.

Izuku’s hand trembled from where he locked his fingers around his wrist. “Stop, dude!”

“Izuku, let the fuck go right now, man. I swear. Get your god damn hands off me.”

“Do you want to go to prison?”

Katsuki spat out. “He fucking touched you!”

“So?!” Izuku shouted, looking like he might cry. “Doesn’t mean you can beat the shit out of him.”

Shouta and Toshinori ran in.

Shouta spoke clear and calm. “Let him go.”

Katsuki lifted him off the wall and drove him back into it.

Toshinori set his hand kindly on his shoulder. “Katsuki. The cops are on their way.”

Katsuki released the guy and invaded his space like an angry mutt, forcing the guy to keep his eyes down. “I see you again, I fucking end you. I’ll go back to prison. I don’t really give a fuck.”

Izuku tried to ease Katsuki away but the touch sent Katsuki into a deeper rage and he shoved Izuku away, shouldering past the crowd gathered around the commotion.







Katsuki bounced his leg.

Toshinori walked into his office and closed the door.

“Are you pressing charges?”

“We can’t. He assaulted Midoriya so it would be his choice to go through that. But we have his photo and name. I’ll make a poster for everyone. He is no longer allowed here.”


“I called you here because I wanted to talk about back there—“

Katsuki shot up from his chair. “You’re firing me, fine, whatever. Thanks.”

Toshinori cleared his throat and commanded. “Bakugou, sit. Your job isn’t in jeopardy.” Katsuki pivoted on his heel, distress and the incident’s fury naked on his face.  “ You’re security and your job is to protect our dancers, which you did. Sero panicked. But you acted and eliminated the problem.”

“But?” He gritted.

There was always a ‘but’. Something flawed with Katsuki. You’re cool but man, you get angry all the time.

“Your anger. You have a past and I’m not judging you for it but you can’t attack people even if they’re the ones doing something against the rules. It can be easily twisted to make you the bad guy. I don’t want you going back to prison.”

“Can I go?”

“As long as you know you can’t punch the clients, then yes.”







He bull rushed Izuku, who stood after closing to check up on Katsuki, and stormed in a fury to the back entrance. Once the police showed up at the club, Izuku was pulled aside for questioning about the incident, whether he wanted to file a restraining order or pressure charges of sexual assault against the guy. So he had no opportunities to pull Katsuki aside and talk out his explosive reaction back there.

Izuku raced after him, hitting the metal door when it made to close on him, and pulled on the handlebar of the motorcycle before Katsuki could zoom away.

“Fuck off,” Katsuki snarled over the purr of the motorcycle.

Izuku flinched at the harsh voice. Contrary to the evidence, Katsuki never shouted or yelled at him in real anger. Katsuki had a special language to his words. Maybe most people would grow annoyed or hurt by the constant insults but that was how Katsuki expressed himself.

“Are you mad?”

“Fuck yes I am,” he growled.

Izuku didn’t know how to respond to that. Crickets and late drivers added a soundtrack to their tense scene.

 “Are you pressing charges?” Katsuki asked next, glaring at the ground where the pavement cracked and overturned bottles spilled beer.

It bothered Izuku that Katsuki refused to look at him.


Katsuki snapped, the word whipping a hot sting on his heart.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Izuku jump, a little scared but mostly hurt.  “Jesus, he tried to kiss me and grab my dick…but that’s it! Girls try to kiss me all the time.”

“Why didn’t you fucking throw a punch then?”

Fists clenched at his side, the ability to render people unconscious in them. Izuku considered it. In fact it was his first instinct like in the alley. Fight. Fight. Don’t let anyone push you around. The memory of what his fist could do and did reined back the urge.

“I told you I don’t like to fight.”

“Then you’re fucking dumb as shit. I can’t fucking swoop in every time someone wants to fuck you up.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Wait, why am I the one getting yelled at? I didn’t do anything.”

Katsuki snorted cruelly with a dark smile lacking warmth. “No fucking shit, hence me going apeshit.”

“Don’t give me attitude.”

“I’ll give all the attitude I want. Don’t tell me how to fucking talk.”

Izuku rubbed his head, every attempt to talk to Katsuki was met with constant backlash like he wanted to start a fight, like he wanted Izuku to be angry at him. “Oh my god, you’re being difficult.”

He waved his palms, flippant. “Yea, excuse fucking me for being annoyed about a guy trying to fuck you. Guess it makes no difference to a stripper.”

Izuku couldn’t begin to describe the javelin of hurt and betrayal thrusting between his ribcage at that. “…You know what, fuck you.”

“Fuck me?”

Old Izuku would’ve played dead and take the beating, verbal or physical, but he wasn’t that kid anymore in the playground, small and defenseless.  “Yea, can you hear it through that thick ass skull, asshole?”

“Don’t be acting like I’m some fucking idiot cause your ass is in school.”

“No, you just an idiot who wants to fucking throw punches and not think things through for one minute. It’s get angry and stay angry.”

“Well why don’t I take my dumb angry ass home?” Katsuki shouted, voice echoing through the empty streets of NYC.

“Go ahead, I’ll take my slutty stripper ass home too.”


“Good. Dickhead.”

He sneered. “Mature, Izuku.”

“Oh what do you know about being mature?”

Katsuki turned the key in the ignition. “Fuck this, I’m not getting nagged by you. You’re not my fucking boyfriend.

Water shimmered in Izuku’s eyes. Hurt. Authentic pain. Not annoyance. Not bitterness. “Fuck you.”







It hit him after he parked his bike and stomped all the up the stairs.  He hurt Izuku, not physically like those assholes on the alley or the client in the club, but mentally and emotionally. He fought those guys to protect Izuku but he was the one who dealt the most damage, who scarred him the most, who made Izuku feel three sizes smaller.

 Anger had always been an easy emotion for Katsuki to sink into, unlike every other emotion, it granted him this strength. You weren’t depressed when you were livid. You weren’t doubtful, insecure, and lost. So when the sadness hit him, it was a wrecking ball to his gut. Absolutely destructive.

I’m an asshole.

I’m such a fucking asshole

I can’t do shit right.

I can’t be a good friend.

I can’t be a good whatever I was to Izuku.

Fuck being like…a boyfriend…

Katsuki’s back slid on the door until he was curled to it. Too furious to move and if he did, he would break something. Would grab his keys and run for hard liquor like he did in high school when his mind proved too much.

Too sad to sulk into bed and if he did, he might actually cry and crying meant digging up all the skeletons because sadness worked like a crack in the glass, spreading wider and wider until it shatters and every little thing that ever made you aware of your insignificance washed you away.


I’m not good for Izuku.

The hell am I thinking, this thing had an expiration date.

It’s better. We wouldn’t last, nice guy like him. Yea, no way.



The apartment felt cold and for once it wasn’t due to the cold night and the limed colored old heater  from the 70s that only warmed a small quarter of the place, since no one built those things with any range whatsoever. The shadows seemed heavier, blacker, like creatures of the night even with all the lights on. Climbing under the sheets without Izuku felt like crawling into a casket in the ground.

He drank a little to numb his mind. Hit a cigarette since blunts reminded him so fondly of Izuku against him the first night they hung out and the night he gathered the courage to kiss his soft lips. It worked well enough that he could he look through their old messages without feeling like someone jammed a barbed wire laced with lemon and salt through his heart.

He laughed pathetically at Izuku’s stupid jokes, the gallery of memes, the emojis Izuku used excessively.







Izuku walked into the club, eyes determinedly set forward and away from where Katsuki sat at the bar and chatted dully with Eijirou and Shouto.

Eijirou perked up and waved. “Izuku!”

He stopped, looking uncomfortable.  Voice shredded and damaged like a city after a harrowing storm. “Hey.”

Katsuki didn’t think Izuku could sound so glum.

Brightly, Eijirou offered. “We’re all gonna go and play some ball at the gym. You wanna join?”

“Actually, I got some assignments to do,” he said. “Thanks though.”

“Oh? That’s cool. Next time, yea?”

“Sure.” Izuku walked to the dressing room.

Eijirou watched him leave with some concern. “Is Izuku upset about that guy?”

Katsuki blinked, seeing Eijirou and Shouto waiting for his answer. Right, if anyone should know it would be me. “I think,” he lied. “Haven’t talked to him really.”

He read the lackluster in Katsuki’s demeanor and the low rumble of his voice as shame for his violent behavior the night before. Eijirou clapped his shoulder good-naturedly. “Don’t feel bad about getting angry back there. I think we all would, you know, no one scared of you.”

“Yea,” he said, playing with his phone.

Shouto stared in silence, blue and hazel read the story Katsuki didn’t say vocally but physically.






Benching on the sidelines while the guy’s frantic footwork squeaked over the court, Katsuki looked at his phone.

No new messages.

No tags.

No links.

He thumbed open Izuku’s messages and tapped the box. All that white space, all those black texts and Katsuki couldn’t formulate a fucking thought worth Izuku’s time.

What if he ignored it? What if he saw the read receipt below the message?

Izuku was already acting like Katsuki didn’t exist at work, never daring to make eye contact, never addressing him directly, always finding little excuses if they ever bumped into each other at work.

A ball ricocheted hard off the bench, starling Katsuki.

Shouto looked with fake innocence. “Whoops.”

Denki wiped swear off with his basketball jersey. “Stop jerking off to porn and play.”

“Fuck you,” he showed him his middle finger, pissed off again at himself, at the guys for some inexplicable reason, at Izuku for being childish—Katsuki was supposed to be the one ignoring him, not the other way. He jammed his phone deep into his backpack and dipped under the bench where the ball had rolled and dribbled it over aggressively.


Like I’m going to break first.

Fuck him, two can play this game!






Katsuki was firmly dedicated to his fuck Izuku, I’m not texting or saying shit till he does plan right up until he saw Izuku at the store with another guy. He pulled up his hood and followed them from aisle to aisle in Target, gathering a gallery of looks from concerned parents and one employee who thought Katsuki was planning to shoplift the entire season collection of Saved By the Bell.

He caught tidbits of their conversations, stalking with a bag of Cheetos so none of the employees could yell at him about loitering in the store without the intent to buy.

Izuku and the douchebag, a name Katsuki lovingly bestowed on the mystery dude, spoke in hushed voices by the movies.

“…It’s been so long since I…”

“Yea. Me too…I’m having a great time with you…”

“…We should do this more often…”

“…Aw, you’re so cute, Izuku…”

The bag of Cheetos exploded with a loud pop and a rain of cheesy puffs.






Okay, it hurt.

He liked Izuku.

But he was so awful at repairs and by proxy grew fearful of any attempt to try it.

His phone mocked him.

Even in a strip club with beautiful women and ripped guys and sex music, Katsuki could see and hear Izuku like someone went inside his body and illuminated him with loud stadium lights.

He was so deep in his feelings, he belatedly took notice of the solid ten making sex eyes in the low pink light. Hipster magenta hair framed her pale face and the start of her strapless, black dress. Her legs moved sensually at the hem of her dress as she crossed her legs, milky and soft.

Beyond the woman in the black dress, Izuku escorted a client to the private room, selling his trademark wolf smile. The guy stumbled, already hard and probably in love too.

Izuku laughed politely, whispering something in his ear to assure him that he wasn’t clumsy, that Izuku found him attractive—you gotta let them think they can have you, everyone wants the stripper.

The woman uncoiled from the booth like some great big cat and slinked to the bar, pushing her ass out in that tight dress. She looked over to make sure Katsuki was checking out her curvy figure.  Red lips curled when Katsuki’s eyes followed the swells and dips to her.

Katsuki propped his elbow on the bar. “You digging this masterpiece?”

She purred like a little wicked kitten. “Guess you can say that, but I would need to see the whole package.”

“You can if you play your cards right.”

“How’s this, I want that in my bedroom and inside me?”

Like eh, cause she had zero freckles. No muscles from what he could tell. And she didn’t tell him he was an asshole or anything like Izuku would—Shit, he was making comparisons .

“Sure,” he said, feeling lonely, undesirable, and petty as hell.

Let Izuku see new people, whatever.

He pinned her to the door of her apartment, finding softness and wide curves where he normally got hardness and narrow lines.

Don’t think about Izuku, don’t think about Izuku, don’t think about Izuku.

He flipped her around, pushing up the hem of her dress over her ass and rubbed himself against her panties.

Don’t think about Izuku, don’t think about Izuku.

She grabbed his hand and moved it under her panties and into the wetness between her legs.

Alright, it was getting really hard not to think about Izuku.

Fuck, I want dick.

I seriously want his dick in my hand.

I want his stupid voice.

I want his honey sweet kisses.

“Shit, shit.” Katsuki pulled his fingers out and laid his head on her back.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you came,” she groused, huffing in frustration. Like god, he wasn’t even in yet.

“The fuck, no. Look I can’t.” He slumped into the leather loveseat.

She smoothed her dress, annoyance twisting her soft face until she read the heartache on Katsuki. She sat next to him. “Broken heart?”


Looks like it was another night of sexual fantasies and her vibrator, Leonardo. “I kinda wish you would’ve said that at the beginning. Listen, honey, if you feel this bad without her—“


“Him,” she corrected. “Then you need to talk it out and fix whatever happened between you two.”

“I fucking doubt he wants to talk to me. I was an asshole,” he confessed. Great, he lost his hard on and was on the verge of a mental breakdown in front of a complete stranger. “He can do better than my ass.”

“Have you tried?”


“Then you can’t say any of that for sure. Reach out. Don’t let your chance pass you by. If it works then it works. If it doesn’t then you tried at least,” she said. “Believe me, it’s worse when you wonder what could have been than knowing what did happen.”

Katsuki stood up. “Yea. Uh, thanks. I’m gonna go. Sorry about the whole…”

She smiled woefully. “It’s okay. Can’t blame a girl for trying. I hope things work out with that guy.”

He glared at the floor. “Yea…me too.”






Someone knocked on the door. Katsuki lifted his head, sneered at that, and threw the covers over his head. Unless it was Izuku or a clone of Izuku or the ghost of Izuku, then he wasn’t getting up.

“I know you’re there. Open up,” Shouto demanded through the door.

“Fuck off,” the formless shape under the covers shouted back.

“I’ll have Eijirou break down the door. I already gave him a 5 Energy so he’s good to go.”

Eijirou’s voice was muffled on the other side. “I’ll do it, Kacchan.”

“Fucking piss off.”

“This is your last warning.”

“I will paint these walls with both of your blood if you don’t piss off. I swear.”

Shouto counted down. “Five…Four…You better open this door…Three…Two…One—“

Katsuki ripped the door open.

“See. Told you it would work,” Shouto smiled.

“You motherfucker.” Katsuki made to slam the door on their stupid faces.

Shouto wedged his shoe between the door and the trim, he held off the slam with one arm. “Nope, no you don’t. We’re talking. This has gone how long enough.”

He applied more force, if Shouto didn’t get the fuck out of the way and die as a result then oh well. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You and Izuku,” Shouto gritted, pushing back, equally annoyed by Katsuki’s ass-backward behavior.

Before Katsuki could deny it, Shouto continued. “Dude,  we all know you two were fooling around. And we know you guys had a big blowout. As gross as it was with you guys fucking around in the bathroom, you were happy so yea. Let’s fix this.”

“Fuck off!”

“Kacchan, c’mon,” Eijirou said, backing up Shouto.

“I said fuck off.”

A hand gripped the door. Brown and blue glared from the gap growing as his friends fought off his strength. “Look, grow a pair of balls and let talk about your god damn feelings.”

Katsuki surrendered, stepping away, and the duo almost fell face first into the floor. “I feel angry, there, I talked!”

“Ugh. I’m not dealing with you and Izuku being mopey and depressed.”

“Like Izuku gives a shit,” Katsuki hissed, the name acting like a detonator for the bombs around his heart.

“He does, jackass. Uraraka texted me everything. You know he saw you leave with that chick.”

“And I saw him with some guy, so fuck him.”

“What guy, Izuku’s not seeing anyone.”

“Yea right.”

“I have Uraraka’s and Tenya’s damn numbers so I actually know unlike you.”

Katsuki relented. “Fine, ask them who the fuck was with him a couple weeks ago at Target.”

Eijirou asked, a tinge worried. “You stalked him?”

“No! He was there so I followed him,” he corrected. It was not as though he went in search of Izuku but he couldn’t turn back when he did find him.

“So stalking?”

“Both of you be quiet, I’m calling Uraraka.”

“Don’t call her,” Katsuki growled, swiping for Shouto’s phone.

Shouto batted his hand away. “Uraraka, hey, I have a question. Izuku went out with a guy to Target a while ago, do you know who…I’ll ask.” He turned to Katsuki. “How did he look?”

“Like an asshole!”

He sighed, summoning patience as he said. “He doesn’t know…Oh, okay, thanks. Yea I’m talking to him…Yup…God, I know…He’s stupid like that.”

“Wow, are you seriously gonna talk about me when I’m right here?”

Shouto shoved his palm in Katsuki’s face. “Yea. Bye. Okay, she said it was probably Lucas. It was a date. Izuku dropped him after.”


“Are you seriously asking me why the guy you were dating didn’t follow through with another guy?”


“He likes you. Christ.”

“No,” he denied.

Shouto walked away and slumped into the sofa. “Eijirou, talk to him. I’m getting a headache.”

“Okay, let’s just start at the fight. What happened?”

Katsuki recited the whole fight.

“Dude…” Eijirou carded his hands through his red hair, a pained cringed accompanied the action.” Why would you say that?”

Katsuki pouted. “I was mad!”

His friend shook his head somberly. “Oh my god, you’re gonna have to grovel so hard.”

“He won’t even talk to me,” he confessed. Putting the words out there gutted hard.

“Because you’re not talking to him and he has a good reason not to talk to you,” Eijirou explained.

Well there it was, Izuku wanted shit with him. “Then why are we having this conversation? You just said he doesn’t—“

He huffed, hurrying to clarify the mix-up. “No. I’m saying he had a good reason. Not that he doesn’t want to. He thinks you don’t care.”

“What the fuck,” he shouted. “I couldn’t even fuck that girl because of his lame ass.”

Shouto clapped both hands over his face. “Oh my god. So you like him?”

“No shit,” he grumbled.

“You want him back?” Shouto volleyed next, patience short with this circle jerk.

“Well yea…”

“Then get him back,” he said simply. “Go right now.”


“No.” Shouto dismissed any counter-argument. “Don’t talk. Get dressed. Go to his dorm room. Say sorry. Tell him how you feel. Go back to being all gross and happy.”

Katsuki lowered his eyes, uncharacteristically bared and naked in the afternoon glow. “What if—“

“If you like him, then do it. Stay if you don’t.”

Katsuki lapsed into silence. “I’ll go.”

“Cool. You might want to hurry up. Izuku’s leaving for the weekend.”

“What, fuck, shit!” Katsuki hopped on one foot as he put on his shoes and bolted out the door.

“…Izuku isn’t leaving though,” Eijirou said, staring at Shouto’s proud tiny smirk.

“I know. But he’ll get there faster if he thinks he is.”

Eijirou bumped his shoulder. “Aw, you softie.”

“Well, we better go.” He wiped the front of his jeans. “The makeup sex is going to be loud.”

“Yea. Netflix and blaze?”

“You know it.”








Hey, it Katsuki. I need Izuku’s room number.



203B. Go get him, tiger! :D






A shadow grew on the door, Katsuki’s fist hovered an inch from it.

It’s worse when you wonder what could have been than knowing what did happen.

Sage advice from a random hookup; how funny.

Stop being a pussy.

What are you afraid of?

…I’m afraid he won’t want me, the one guy I want won’t want me because I’m fucking angry and rude and I already have a small group of friends that I’m still surprised who stuck around. Izuku saw the bad and didn’t think it was so bad, and everyone thinks that of me.

Asshole Katsuki.

Heartless Katsuki.

Murderous Katsuki.

I don’t know…Izuku saw me as just Katsuki and I like that. I like him. He can see the shit I can’t, the nice things. I want that back.

Katsuki inhaled deeply, exhaled, and set his hard eyes on the door and punched it harder than he intended.

But no one came, so he grew anxious and pounded louder, faster, feeling his inside unravel.

“Izuku, open up asshole!”

Izuku appeared suddenly, walking up the hall with a bag of takeout. “Katsuki?”

Katsuki looked at the door then Izuku. “Well…I made a giant ass of myself. Again. Sup. You’re not about to leave right?”

“Leave? To where?”

“Shouto said…that lying son of a bitch…Fucking.”

“Did you come to see me cause you thought I was leaving?”

“…No. I mean, yea. But not exactly…Can we do this inside if that’s cool?”

He nodded, shifting the bag over to get his keys. “Well good thing my roommate it out or you would’ve scared the shit outta him.”

Katsuki winced behind his back, mouthing silent curses to himself. “Yea. Uh. I got carried away.”

Izuku led him inside and locked the door and made straight for the plain dorm kitchen. “You got take out?”

“Yea. I haven’t went shopping lately,” he admitted shyly like he didn’t want Katsuki to take his sudden negligence as a result of their breakup.

But clearly, it had. Izuku hid it at work but in the dorm room with the poor lighting and white walls, he saw the damage of their fight. Izuku’s unwashed hair. The dark circles. A few blemishes that Izuku only developed during stressful periods. The oversized clothes that swallowed his body.

Katsuki felt a ball of guilt, tar, and loathing coat the lining of his stomach.

“Did you need something?”



Katsuki threw his hands out aggressively. “Fuck! Look, asshole, I fucking like you! I like you and shit. This is fucking embarrassing as hell. I feel stupid around you but in a good way. It annoys the shit outta me when you’re gone. Sometimes you annoy me but I always want you around. I’m a douchebag with no romance skills. If I do something romantic, I will probably throw in a ‘no homo’ because I don’t do this mush, rom bullshit. But I want to—fuck—I want to. And I acted like an asshole, okay? Everything I said to you was fucked up, I had no right. It wasn’t right. I hurt you and it fucking cuts me up cause I don’t want to. I never want to. I don’t deserve you or anything, like I’m a huge dick. Mega, dude. And you’re like the sexy muffin man with a heart made of puppies and shit. Like smart too, fucking Einstein would be impressed. And that’s everything I have to say that isn’t stupid as fuck. Stop looking at me like that. It’s gay.”

Izuku pressed a hand to his mouth, hiding a hopeful smile. “That was the most hostile confession I have ever gotten.”

“Fuck. I’m not trying to force you—“

“I love it.”


“Not you being an asshole. I like that you’re…aggressive about everything. Aggressive about me. Maybe you come off bogus but your jokes make me laugh even though they are wrong and you are going to burn for them. You’re honest and real in way people aren’t these days. And it’s cute seeing you blush like a school girl trying to act sweet.”


“I should’ve thought about how you felt, y’know.” Izuku fiddled with the hem of his oversized tee. “If it was the other way around, I would get pretty jealous too.”

“No, no. Shut up. I’m the one in the wrong, don’t apologize.”

“But I feel bad too. I called you stupid. You’re not,” he said hastily. “And I went on a date to get over you but it just made me miss you so much. And the guy was so boring too.”

“I know. I saw you.”

“Were you that weirdo who security yelled at?”

“Yea…And I almost hooked up with a chick at work but like I couldn’t even get hard. I fucking sobbed about you to her.”

“Oh.” Izuku looked bothered by the truth but endured the pain. “It’s okay. We weren’t—“

“Stop being nice, let me be nice. Be a dick and tell me I was wrong.”

“You were wrong…” Izuku’s green eyes peeked up, a blooming forest with tall pines filled with an ocean of emotions. One of them was compassion and understanding and he knew this little asshole was going to try to say sorry once more.

“Don’t you dare, bitch,” Katsuki warned him.

“So was I!” He blurted, then clapped his hands over his mouth surprised by the outburst.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re getting mad cause I want to say sorry.”

“Yes, cause I’m the reason we fought so fucking let me. You’re making it hard by being so nice.”


“Cool. So uh, I don’t think badly of you cause you strip. It’s hot. I get hard all the time but I don’t fucking like guys touching you. I’m not going to tell you to quit. It’s a part-time thing, the pay’s good so no biggie. If I have to stand outside your private dances to keep you…decent then fine, I will.”

“Can I apologize?”

He tipped his head back, annoyed, and flapped one arm. “God, fine.”

“I know it’s hard for you to control your temper. You try. You’ve been trying. It’s not easy for you. And it doesn’t define you. Neither does your record. I’m sorry for saying something so low.”

Katsuki rubbed his nose, remembering the trade of low blows and how sour the words tasted leaving his mouth. “…Well I wasn’t much better either so…”

“Are we cool?” Izuku asked in such a heartbreakingly small voice.


Izuku brightened and chanced a step away from the table and closer to Katsuki. “Can we…get back to things but with a title?”

“Like relationship?”


“For real?” Katsuki blinked in disbelief.

This was happening, right?

He wasn’t stoned off his ass and in his apartment and living a fever dream?

Izuku laced their fingers together, the sweetest expression erupted on his face. “Shockingly, I didn’t hang out with you because of your dick. I like the person attached to said dick.”

“I feel like you’re calling me a dick without saying it outright,” he laughed. It felt bright again in his mind and all that came from Izuku’s stupid hand around his.

The world seemed to respond to the touch and ignited the small dorm in colors Katsuki didn’t see when he first stepped in.

“You’re my dick.”

He snorted a huff of laughter and spit. “…Don’t call me that. It’s weird.”

“Well if you were my boyfriend then I could call you that,” Izuku teased tenderly like Katsuki was a skittish animal who would bolt at the tiniest of sounds.

Katsuki averted his eyes. “Yea. I mean, fuck yea. B-boyfriends and shit.”

Izuku finished his path and molded himself to Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki sighed and closed his arms around him, his chest expanding so wide. He wanted to keep this shape forever. “…Is it bad that I want to snuggle you and ride your cock at the same time?”

Katsuki howled with a loud laugh. His mouth ached from grinning so much. “Hell no, let’s go. Our first fuck as boyfriends.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku tugged back. When Katsuki looked back, he tapped two fingers on his bottom lip. “Kiss. Official. Then sex.”

And god, Katsuki melted on the spot, fucking taken all over again. Fucking gone on the reality that this ball of smiles and laughter was not only back in his life but as someone who wanted him for all his flaws and weaknesses. Katsuki cupped his jaw, angled it up, and tried to steal Izuku’s heart through the kiss.

“Official,” he said, feeling a little silly with his heart at 100 mph and his body completely motionless.

How did you touch clouds from the ground, cause Katsuki was learning their chemistry right about now.

Izuku’s next smile was so disgustingly smug and proud, he wondered if the guy was copying off of him. “Cool. Now kiss me like you want to fuck me.”

“if you say so, doctor.” He made the kiss dirty as requested, a little sweet since he was a total softie for this mop head, but when Izuku moaned lowly he upped the sexual intensity.

“Good?” Katsuki asked, breathless with red lips.

Izuku hummed like he was drunk. “Yea. Now fuck me.”

“You’re pretty fucking demanding.”

“Boo-hoo,” he taunted.

“Say that again after I destroy your ass.”






Katsuki carried Izuku through the door of his apartment.

“Your neighbors are going to hate me again,” he moaned, wiggling and squirming and making all the sounds to drive him mad.

Katsuki pinned him to the wall, trapping his hands above his head, and attacked his neck with open mouth kisses. “Good. They should know we’re legit.”

Izuku hissed a noise that lengthened into a whiny sigh when Katsuki nibbled on his ear. “Katsuki.”

God, he missed this.

Izuku’s mouth, his voice, his body, his freckles, his presence, the way he could knot his fingers in those wild curls, the strength in his legs from stripping and dancing, the way Izuku stole the light in any room and brought it back with double the watt.

Izuku stripped, breaking away from Katsuki’s mouth, and tossed the shirt somewhere in the dark. Katsuki quickly went to mark up his chest, slowly licking a nipple into his mouth.

“Yes,” Izuku breathed, arching up. “Please.”

He sucked until it hardened perfectly under his tongue and kissed his way to the next, giving it a flash of teeth before he pinched his lips around it.

“So good. Fuck. Missed you. Missed you so much.”

Katsuki went for his mouth. “Same. Every day. Every fucking day.”

“I need you in me. I need your cock, Katsuki.”

“Fuck, okay.” He set him up so he could hop out of his jeans and shirt, Izuku did the same and was naked before he got his shirt over his head.

Strippers, right.

Izuku threw his arms around his neck and Katsuki cupped his ass and set him on his hips, carrying them through the moonlit apartment.

“Hurry,” moaned Izuku as he ran his lips up his neck. He fanned his breath over his ear. “I miss your cock, baby. Gotta have it. Make me remember it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he growled. “Your damn mouth.”


Katsuki slammed him on the bed and wrenched his legs apart and spread his cheeks, tongue wiggling in aggressively. Hands raked through his hair. He pushed his tongue deeper, impatient to be inside Izuku. He spat into his hole and pumped in a finger to spread him quicker. Sweat and spit wet his face. Izuku rocked back on his mouth and fingers without a care if Katsuki could draw a breath.

Katsuki took a big gulp of air, resurfacing, and crawled over Izuku and inelegantly licked into his mouth. “Babe.” He pumped three fingers easy in him. “You’re so good for it. Damn. So pretty for me.”

“Yes, god, Katsuki.”

“Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you cum real good.”

“Please, please.” Izuku wiggled, rocking his ass on Katsuki’s swollen cock.

“You want that?” He teased, grabbing himself and pushing lightly against his hole.

“Yes, yes.”

Katsuki started to get off the bed.

“No,” Izuku pulled him back down. “Just you.”

“Fuck, are you sure? We don’t—“

He nodded, kissing him desperately. “I want it. Please”

Katsuki grabbed himself and lined up, kissing Izuku once with desire and again with love and for the softness of the moment with yearning. He rolled in, shuddering with these stuttering groans. Hands and legs pushed at his ass, encouraging him to pump in completely. Insanely hot. Ludicrously tight. All he wanted to was pound away. Pound until his entire zip code knew his name.

He waited. Body in shivers and let Izuku breathe through the wide stretch.

He mewled, mouth gaping because of the feeling, the stretch, the heat.

“Don’t say a word. I’m about to pop a nut,” Katsuki warned, elbows losing strength.

Izuku opened his eyes lazily with an insane amount of sex appeal and satisfaction. “Mmm. What a fat cock—“

Well ta-ta self-control

Katsuki purred low, hooking Izuku’s strong legs over his shoulder. The angle let him press his balls smugly to Izuku’s ass. “Alright, you’re getting destroyed.”

Oh Izuku was really whining, really mewling, on the bed like a stripper pole and every face explicit enough to earn a triple X rating. “Ah—oh. Katsuki, Katsuki, Kat—ah.”

“Yea,” Katsuki smirked, thrusting. “Yeah, baby. Make all the noise.”

The headboard rattled off the wall. Each pump had a sloppy wet pop with the company of the mattress squeaking mad. Katsuki folded Izuku’s legs to his chest and fucked deeper, knees almost not touching the bed. Izuku went with, of course, of course, perfect and twisty Izuku with that body and that thirst.

“Harder. Yea—fuck me, fuck me, ah, Katsuki. There, there. Cum in me.”

He literally came on fucking command, holy—

Izuku milked him, still moving, able to twist and pump his ass on his cock as his orgasm robbed him of the ability to move. Could hear Izuku whining and moaning, his hand on his cock, flying fast and dirty and finished.

Katsuki had no energy to pull out and Izuku didn’t seem to mind, so they laid in bed with Izuku petting his hair and his head pillowed on Izuku’s strong chest. “Missed you.”

“Me too.”

“I think your freckles are stupid.”

Izuku giggled. “No you don’t. I caught you counting them a few times.”


“What’s the tally?”

“Dunno. I get lost when I see your amazing ass.”

“Well now you can. Count them, I mean. Since we’re all.”

“Izuku, my boyfriend, my future sugar daddy, my sexy stripper.”

“Oh god,” Izuku clapped a hand over his eyes, snorting.

“I want a fucking Lambo , daddy.”

“S-shut up.”

“And a gold jet.”

“How about I buy you one of those Hot Wheels? I think they have Lambos.”

“You’re a cheap daddy.”







“Here,” Izuku tapped Denki on the shoulder with the controller. “Gotta pee,” he declared and with a tiny peek, shared his intentions to Katsuki.

Katsuki grinned disgustingly around the bottle and waited for an appropriate amount of time to pass so like, three minutes. “I’m gonna put some beer in the fridge,” he said, shuffling out of the room.

Denki’s fingers slowed on the buttons. “Are they…?”

Shouto and Eijirou smiled.


“I know,” Shouto agreed.

“I’m so glad they’re back together.”

Shouto added, clicking his fingers on the buttons. “They’re good. Katsuki’s getting better with his temper.”

“Yeah! I think Izuku is taking it. He has so much sass now.” Eijirou titled the controller and crashed into Denki’s character, forcing him to careen off the road and into a barrier.

“Oh, so we’re going to ignore the fact that they’re fucking in my bathroom, again?”

“Stop whining,” Shouto ordered, now in the lead.

“It’s cute.”

“Ball sweat and the smell of cum is not cute. I have to Frebeeze the shit out of it. Do you know how many candles I bought at Marshal to wipe that scent?”

“Look, they swallow,” said Shouto. “It’s not they get it on the floor or anything.”

“Shouto, who the fuck are you anymore?! I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.”








“So…you and Katsuki..” Uraraka started oh so casually.

Izuku groaned. “What?”

“How rough was the makeup sex, I have to know. Did you guys do it in the alley?”

“No, we went to his place and yea…”

“Oh.” She smiled like she could see the memories playing in his head. “You dirty hoe. You went raw.”

He turned slowly, horror coloring his face pale. “…This is really creepy, how are you guessing these things?”

“You’re so transparent,” she chirped and grabbed some popcorn. Then tacked on with a squeaky voice. “And I kinda read your texts to Katsuki, sorry. I have no self-control. I need a boyfriend.”

“I feel like you’re a cat that never got fixed.”

“Shut up.”

Tenya downed his glass of wine. “And so it starts.”

“Kink master,” Uraraka hummed in a haunting voice into Tenya’s ear.







“Alright. For real. This is a for real date date. Rom up to a thousand. Fucking gay ass Nora Sparks Notebook bullshit supernova. You get two, one for a birthday and the other is the anniversary. You want rom after that, you get Burger King. ”

“Thank you, baby.” Izuku smiled.

“I look fucking stupid.” He tugged at the collar of his suit.

“You look great,” he assured. “Like my super cute boyfriend who dolled up for our super cute date.”

“Of course you look good,” Katsuki ranted, ignorant to Izuku’s gentle assurance. “People are gonna think I stole this or that I’m your charity case. Look at this, 70 dollars for this French shit, is a French person gonna make it?”

“Kacchan,” Izuku touched his hand and Katsuki ceased his fidgeting. “Relax. You look perfect. This is perfect and our meal is going to be perfect.”

“…Okay,” he said, calm from the touch.

The waiter returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order.

Izuku said politely when he saw Katsuki burning holes into the menu. “A few more minutes, please.”

He chewed his lips, looking angrily for a meal.

Izuku played with the fork. “You know…we could bail.”

“No. I wanted to take you somewhere nice so…”

“I mean…I’m not a gold chandelier kind of guy.”



Izuku shivered in the cold. It made Katsuki livid with red sparks that his body answered for the reaction before his mind could offer its two cents, and rolled off his jacket. He threw it on Izuku’s body awkwardly. It slid right off and pooled between their feet. Katsuki wanted to hop the rail and drown in the damn navy ripples.

The dinner was a disaster, Katsuki just saw the glass windows painted with gold swirls and framed with red lush curtains and decided somewhere with gold would be the best place for their first date. Smoking pot and getting shitfaced while playing Mario Kart hardly counted as romantic, though it did start their whole relationship.

“Did you—? Aren’t you cold?” He asked instead. Katsuki felt so grateful for Izuku’s uncanny ability to tell when to prod Katsuki and when to move past the subject.

Katsuki shrugged in his suit and black slacks. “I don’t get cold.”

Well, not right now, because embarrassment heated better than the sun.

Izuku bent for the jacket and slipped it on, burrowing deep like a child. “Thanks.”

“Yea. Cool. Would be annoying for you to catch something,” he blurted, face still hot enough to color his cheeks.

Izuku pressed into his shoulder and wiggled until Katsuki had little choice but to loop an arm under the jacket. “There. You can’t get sick either.”



Boats rippled the water. The lavender streaking across the New York skyline played wobbly reflections on the surface. One by one, the pier’s lights lit up. Probably the most nauseating place to bring your boyfriend; Katsuki was the guy to watch from afar and mock the twitterpated couples with his friends. Gross and cliché.

Dinner a lost Katsuki thought of the second most romantic place he ever came across, this was the immediate place that came to mind.

He got it—why lovers flocked to the water, you could see them in the mirror surface. He saw Izuku, bright and electric, and then himself with his patented ticked expression but with a slight curl to his mouth and a lighter tone in his eyes. A caramelized red.  Warm. Not angry, annoyed, fed up.

One of Katsuki’s finger dipped under Izuku’s shirt and rubbed the skin there, taut and firm from dancing. “You know what’s warmer than this?”

“What?” He asked, Izuku had a sincere curiosity to everything Katsuki said.


Izuku barked in laughter, shaking with it as Katsuki’s hand vibrated from the trembles in his gut. “Damn, you’re right. You know what’s warmer than pizza?”

He played along, sucking his lips so not to grin back at Izuku’s shit-eating smile he donned whenever he thought of something particularly funny. “What?”

“Your bed. With pizza. And the covers,” he said, that smile morphed rapidly into an awful grin of seduction. Not his coy, sexy smile for work. The one he had for Katsuki when he wanted him to laugh.

“Fuck it, why are we still here then?”

“Cause you wanted to be all rom today,” Izuku hummed, listening to the water.

Katsuki kissed the crown of his head. “I will literally take you to McDonald’s for your birthday, asshole.”

“No. It’s nice, really. I’m just…”


“I like just hanging with you so you don’t have to do…this stuff if you don’t want to.”

“And be the worst fucking boyfriend ever?” He scoffed, huffing his chest. “Fuck that. I’ll fly your lame ass to Paris. I don’t care.”

“Oh. Tha—”

“Izuku, shut up. I don’t mind the rom shit,” he said with warmth.

Izuku snuggled into him, feeling dangerously close to his heart. “Okay, good, cause I really like you doing stuff like this.”

“You little shit,” Katsuki laughed. “Lying hoe.”

“I’m sorry!” He blurted. “I don’t wanna push you into anything.”

“I’m here, right? I wanna be pushed. Stop complaining and enjoy it. Once the honeymoon shit is done, it’s basic ass White Castle for you, babe.”

Izuku roped his arms on his waist. “Do I get fries with that?”


“Then I’m cool. Now, pizza, please.”

“Alright, alright.” Katsuki started walking them to the streets.

Izuku clung to his arm like an over-sized pup, threading their fingers and laying his weight on Katsuki. “And Netflix, I wanna eat and watch TV.”

“What about the chill part?”

“Well, I’m always hungry for dick.”

Katsuki stopped. A violent thing rumbled in him. A feral hunger for Izuku— for his body under him, for the heat of his mouth and ass, for the press of Izuku as they curled in his bed with a blanket and bullshit on the TV, for Izuku’s million-watt smile as he talked about his passion “…Fuck the pizza, we’re fucking.”

“I guess we could order online—Oh my god, Kacchan. Calm down.”

“No. Excited for sex.”






In the sea of parents, siblings, spouses, and friends, Katsuki’s homemade sign stood out brightly with the caption: He has the ass, the abs, and is a Grad. Hell yea, that’s my man!

The whole lot of them screamed and cursed, firing off air horns when they announced Izuku’s name and crossed the stage for his diploma. Families glared when he launched from his seat to the stairs, going, “FUCK YEAH, BABY! TAKE THAT FUCKING DIPLOMA! IZUKU, IZUKU!”





It got a little difficult when Izuku started his residency at the hospital. He pulled crazy hours, slept often at the hospital, left his part time job at the club, and text Katsuki at random intervals. Sometimes Izuku was too stressed and tired when they got together and slept on Katsuki’s bed for the whole day. Other times, they got furious and upset because Izuku was always busy and Katsuki never saw him. They had fights. They made up. They stuck together cause at the end of every day and at the start of every sunrise, they adored each other.

And the days got better. Izuku worked a normal shift and brought home flowers even when he knew Katsuki would scoff and make a joke about it, and he took Katsuki to their favorite restaurants to show that all the time apart never erased the memory of Katsuki from his mind.

And the nights got better. Katsuki decided to get his record wipe after five years of no offenses and started going to community college for business. He wanted more for himself. He wanted a job Izuku could tell everyone proudly about. He wanted to be the man Izuku saw in him. It would be hard but with the guys, who shared his dream to open their own bar, backing him up finically and emotionally he didn’t see them not making it.

So Katsuki learned to make a whole meal and dessert from several YouTube videos and set up a table with candles and a white cloth on the roof, and surprised Izuku on his return from the second shift. Izuku glowed, knowing cooking was not a skill that came naturally to Katsuki and to see he put this much effort and time to show him that with this rough period in their lives he would adapt and grow with Izuku.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Katsuki asked, not looking at Izuku while he chewed on the double chocolate slice of cake.

“It’s good.”


Izuku nodded happily, teeth smeared with fudge. “I love it.”

Katsuki grinned, lifting his fork lazily. “You look like you have poop mouth.”

He choked, hitting his chest with a fist. “Oh my god, you’re so gross,” he chided after swallowing a glass full of water to dislodge the fudge blockage. “How can I eat this beautiful cake if you’re telling me that?”

Unbothered, Katsuki cut into the cake and licked the traces of fudge of the fork. Izuku’s eyes heated, the skin between his freckles faded to pink. “What, I eat your ass all the time. Poop doesn’t bother me.”

“I clean myself thoroughly!” Now that pink was in embarrassment and not lust.

“…I mean.” Katsuki left it at that.

“No,” he said somberly.

“Just one time.”

Izuku’s fork clattered on the plate. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

“I think it’s cause you were really, really horny and your asshole got super loose. And that turned me on so no biggie. Ate some shit for my babe,” he explained around bites of cake. He got a track of fudge on his thumb and sucked on it lewdly like the head of a cock.

Izuku shifted from horny to mortify in the span of seconds. “Please, stop talking.”

“…Now I can die knowing what shit taste like.”

“Can you not!”

“I wanna eat your cute ass tonight.”

“You’re so weird.”

“That’s not a ‘no’.”

Izuku laughed. “Of course. I love when you rim me, baby.”

“Try not to poop in my mouth,” he joked, grinning from ear to ear as Izuku exploded with mad shades of red.

“Kacchan!” Izuku balled up a napkin and fired it at Katsuki’s nose.







“Hey, baby,” Izuku greeted, entering the building Katsuki and the guy bought the lease for. Presently, they were renovating the place themselves, throwing together their combined knowledge of carpentry, electric, and plumping.

Katsuki switched jobs with Denki, having him stabilize the unsteady ladder as Eijirou fiddled with the wiring. “Babe.”

“Dr. Feel Good,” Eijirou waved.

“Should you guys be drinking?” Izuku asked, pointing at the bottles collected in a trash bin.

“We’re pros. Right?”

Denki cheered, buzzed and stoned, but surprisingly stable and focused.

Eijirou sipped his beer, then went back to the wires. “Yo, Shouto. Hit me with my jam.”

Shouto got up from where he was laying out hardwood floors and tapped the Ipod.

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me

Katsuki groaned. “Great. Now they’re going to sing—“

“Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play,” Eijirou and Denki sang, bobbing their heads.

“Fucking shit.”

“Well, I bought you guys some subs from Jimmy Johns.” Izuku lifted the bag. “I put in some water bottles too. I don’t want you eating Wing Stop every night.”

“I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed,” Shouto joined in his dull voice.

“Are you saying I’m getting fat?” Katsuki smirked as he opened the bag and looked inside.

“She was looking kinda dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead.”

“I’m saying you should eat something besides hot wings and Mountain Dew.”

“You’re like a soccer mom,” he mocked.

Izuku looped a finger through the pocket of his jeans and jerked Katsuki forward, purring heatedly. “A soccer mom that eats your cum.”

Denki and Eijirou sang louder to drown out their sexy conversation.

“You’re a naughty doctor,” he purred back, dumping the bag to grope Izuku’s ass.

“And you’re a bad patient.” Izuku smiled, walking his fingers up his chest and popped the first three buttons on his shirt so his pectorals peeked out. “You better set up an appointment with me so I can make sure everything is running fine.”

“I do have pain in my dick.”

“Oh? That is a problem.”

“Kacchan, stop trying to get dick!” Eijirou shouted.

“If we can’t have any, neither can you,” Denki concurred.

Shouto laid out another panel, mouthing the words to Smash Mouth.






“Mmm,” Izuku hummed, latching on to Katsuki as he slipped under the sheets with wet hair and clean clothes. “You’re late.”

“Yea, “ he murmured with a deep rasp. A dark blond beard sharpened the cruel cut of his jaw. “Denki’s wife went into labor so he left early and we had to do his work too.”

“He still at the hospital?”

He closed his eyes. “Yea, little shitbag doesn’t want out.”

Izuku brushed his hair back, no longer the wild, manic spikes they used to be once Katsuki grew out of his gel phase. His hair hung long and golden at the top, the rest was shaved to a buzz cut. “Yea, sometimes it takes a while for the baby to come out. The next one will be easier.”

“How was work?” Katsuki asked, practically purring as Izuku’s fingers massaged his scalp.

“Decent. I had two patients cancel so I got caught up on paperwork.”

“Good. Missed you.”

Izuku dipped and kissed him softly on the lips. Katsuki gave one back, delicate from a long day of physical labor. “Me too, baby.”

“Can we slam in the morning?”

Izuku roared, shaking the whole bed. “Yea. We can do that.”

“Cool. Now get here and be little spoon.” He opened his arms so Izuku could curl into spoon position. “Mmm. Your ass feels good.”

“Your dick feels nice.”  Izuku closed his eyes, content and safe with Katsuki’s big arms and muscled body armored over him. “Did you think about it?”

“Kids, yea,” Katsuki whispered, voice vaguely devoid of emotion. “…It’s gonna be really weird when you call me daddy now.”

“You goofball.”

“Are you ‘daddy and I’m ‘papa? No, Big Papa.”

“So yes?”

Katsuki hugged him tight. “Fuck yeah.”

It took minutes for Katsuki to find sleep, he was the one to fall into it easier, Izuku smoothed the fingers laced through his and remembered the first time they met and how unlikely it was for their paths to cross again. People wanted to argue Katsuki was a bad guy but he jumped in, not knowing Izuku, not knowing if the thugs had knives or guns, not knowing the outcome. Katsuki backed him up. Then he did the same by supporting Katsuki’s dreams and taking each step with him to clean his record which required another trip in front of a judge.

Their relationship didn’t have a Hollywood start—no iconic backdrop, no juicy nail-biting premise, just two guys who were friends and who found lust along with laughs. Two guys who got scared because it developed swiftly into romance when they expected the passion to fizzle and the laughs to fade. Two guys who came from different points in their lives and in the process of growing their place in the world. Izuku had school. Katsuki had days without bars.

It wasn’t Hollywood. Hell, it would sell poorly as an erotic novel; but it was theirs.

Katsuki dipped his head, nose breathing right on the back of his nape, and settled down. A blooming sensation colonized all his organs, a mushroom cloud of content and pace because everyone spent so long searching and seeking in people and jobs for that feeling crawling in him at the smallest caress from Katsuki.


World’s still looking.

People still turning.

Where’s the love?

When can I put my feet up and be happy?

How long, how long?

Someone tell me.


My feet have been off the ground.

I haven’t walked another step.

I don’t take turns.

I don’t look when I cross the street.

I don’t wait long, just until you get home.

No one has to answer me because I already have the cheat sheet to the question.