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and it was Just Right

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“Whoa man, look! Here you are!”

Kirishima plucked a magazine from the rack, cheerfully waving the glossy piece of print in Katsuki’s face. “You’re number one! How cool is that!?”

“You know I don’t give a shit about that superficial garbage. It’s meaningless,” Katsuki grumbled, snatching the offending publication and glaring at it. In a little inset photo on the front was a generous glamour shot of Katsuki himself, above World’s Sexiest Sidekick in big block letters.

Completely dwarfed by the cover story of Japan’s Shy Rising Star, Deku. Big smiling face, big broad shoulders, big everything. Looking like a veritable giant towering over Katsuki’s stupid fucking nonsense ranking in the bottom right corner.

The magazine went up in flames.

It was over two years since graduation and Katsuki had been haunted by this imagery for nearly as long. Katsuki hadn’t seen Deku since UA but Kirishima, bless his stupid fucking heart, made sure to keep showing Katsuki every glitzy promo piece to come out about the new shining sidekick of Gang Orca’s hero agency. At first Katsuki thought it was hilarious when he heard where Deku had gotten a job: the shrimp and the whale, are you kidding? But then the first spotlight piece on him came out several months later and in the accompanying photo he came up past Gang Orca’s shoulders. Gang Orca was six foot eight inches tall.

Now, Katsuki did not have an inferiority complex, or a superiority complex, or any such complex thank you very much. But seeing Deku huge like that lit a fire under him because like hell he was going to fall behind that loser in anything. So Katsuki threw all of his time not already dedicated to his own hero work into perfecting his body. And, well, he was not the World’s Sexiest Sidekick for no reason.

Bakugou Katsuki was a monster.

Tall, handsome and at the peak of physical fitness, there was no denying that Katsuki was every inch the perfect picture of a hero. And he was not all looks, either - his hero work consistently put him near the top of the ranked sidekicks. Right under Deku.

Which was in no way where Katsuki wanted to be.

“Uh, I didn’t even buy that yet,” Kirishima said. “Guess I’m getting two.”

“I’ll pay for it, dipshit.” Katsuki shook the charred remains out of his hands and dug out his wallet, trying very hard to not think about the green haired smile he just incinerated. It was impossible to engage in this one-sided competition without acknowledging that his opponent looked good - or else what was he even competing against? And there was no denying that Japan’s Shy Rising Star looked good. Looked great.

Fuck.

Kirishima grinned brightly as Katsuki handed him a new, intact and not-on-fire hero magazine. “Thanks, bro! You shouldn’t get so hung up on it, though. Don’t be embarrassed! You earned it, you’re sexy as hell.”

Katsuki let out a long-suffering sigh. Kirishima was a good friend and had been there for Katsuki through thick and thin and thick-headedness. But he was either not terribly observant or was very observant and willfully turning a blind eye to the Deku-shaped chip on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Are you going to the thing tonight?”

Nodding, Katsuki grunted. There was a charity benefit or something similarly banal happening downtown that his agency was practically hosting. “Unfortunately. Mandatory for us. You?”

“Nah, I’m on duty. It’s too bad, I love those little hot dogs. Think you can steal me some?”

“Sure, I’ll shove some in my purse and then bring them to you on patrol. Are you fucking serious, Shitty-Hair? Can we go now? Christ.”

Katsuki really did not want to go to the party, even more so now that Kirishima wasn’t even going to be there. But he did, secretly, also like those little hot dogs.




Deku wasn’t the only graduate in their class to wind up at an odd agency. Katsuki never thought he’d stomp his boots back through Best Jeanist’s doors when he stomped them out after his failure of an internship in their first year. Genius Office was Best Jeanist’s in legacy only, but Katsuki would always attribute it to the tall man who tried to tame Katsuki when Katsuki refused to be tamed. 

Katsuki had done a lot of growing up since then, both figuratively and literally. If he could make it work at the agency that all but threw him out he could make it work anywhere.

And he was definitely making it work.

Part of what Katsuki hated about his original internship was the emphasis placed on appearance. Shouldn’t the only thing that mattered be fighting and winning? But it was a reality of the hero world that presenting yourself well meant attention, endorsement, trust. It was hard to get ahead without it. And since Katsuki intended to be the number one hero, it was not something he could just scoff at and ignore. 

So between designer parents and a fashion icon agency, it was pretty unavoidable that Katsuki became a good dresser once he had put his mind to it. Certainly it was still sweats and tank tops at home but at an event like tonight, even as inconsequential as his attendance was, Katsuki was extremely fashionable.

And fashionably late.

“Ayy, Bakugou! Lookin’ sharp, my man,” Sero called out as Katsuki strolled through the hall entrance in his tailored three-piece suit. The lanky hero was loitering just beyond the lobby with Kaminari and Ashido, making up the larger part of his old crew from high school. Sero was one of the few that Katsuki saw eye to eye with - literally, the beanpole was just as tall as he was but without the bulk. His toothy grin and raised glass beckoned Katsuki over.

“Uwahh, Bakugou, I could just eat you,” Ashido squealed, impressively bouncing up and down in stiletto heels and a fitted cocktail dress. Her wild mane of pink hair was tightly braided against her scalp in what had become her more practical style since graduation; better suited to fighting when someone can’t grab a handful and use it against you.

Kaminari nearly choked on his drink from laughing. “I would love to see that. It would take you a solid week to get through his guns alone. What’s up, boss?”

Rolling his eyes at the flattery, Katsuki snagged a drink from a tray as it passed by. Champagne. “Nothing. This party. Woohoo. What are we celebrating?”

“World’s Sexiest Sidekick, of course,” Kaminari provided like he was offended Katsuki would even ask. He bowed deeply and with a flourish. “Congratulations, m’lord.”

“Tch, knock that shit off,” Katsuki grit out. “What’s the champagne for, asshole?”

“Oh, Gang Orca’s donation just tipped us over the goal. Not like there was any doubt it would be hit tonight, but it’s all part of the show,” Sero explained.

Katsuki felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Gang Orca. That meant Deku was probably here, too. It made sense. As up-and-coming sidekicks at top hero agencies, both of them were expected to attend a lot of these kinds of events. It’s just that Katsuki usually opted to take an extra patrol over a formal event and so their paths had never crossed.

But certainly not because he was trying to avoid Deku.

Of course not.

As if reading his mind, Sero continued, “You missed Midoriya’s speech. It was obvious he didn’t know they were going to ask him to say anything. I haven’t seen the little guy in ages, but he really hasn’t changed at all!”

Katsuki snorted into his glass and rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure, little guy.  

Two seconds later his brain caught up to the fact that yes, Deku was here. Katsuki was suddenly angry and anxious and then even angrier that he was anxious. His gaze swept over the heads in the ballroom, but he saw no pouf of green.

“Now him I could eat,” Ashido giggled. “Soooo cute.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He should just leave, right? Fuck! What did it matter? Why was he so pressed about seeing shitty Deku again for the first time in over two years?

Because he didn’t want to run the risk of getting shown up by the nerd. There, he admitted it; to himself, anyway. He knew he was no slouch - he was the World’s Sexiest fuckin’ Sidekick - but if Deku strolled up tall and buff and confident and hot Katsuki was going to freaking lose it. Deku didn’t even know they were having a competition but he was already winning just because Katsuki was the one who had worked so hard purely out of insecurity.

Even though he definitely didn’t have any complexes!!

Katsuki’s palms crackled.

Okay, it was time to go. Katsuki was going to finish his drink and his perfunctory appearance and leave before he literally blew something up over nothing.

“I need to go make sure Pants-Face sees me,” Katsuki announced abruptly before downing his drink and leaving his squad with a few overly cheerful waves in his wake. Pants-Face wasn’t his name, but not committing every shitty extra to memory was a habit Katsuki hadn’t shaken. It was still better than his first nickname of ‘Jeanist Wannabe.’ 

He thread his way through the crowd, scanning for blue and hoping to avoid green. Katsuki needed to just play it cool, get in and get out before—

“Kacchan!”

His stomach dropped.

Of. Course.

“Kacchan, hi!”

Katsuki closed his eyes, inhaling deeply with a groan before spinning around to see.. No one. Nobody. Hah?

“Kacchan, w-wow! It’s been so long! You look great!”

Katsuki looked.. Down.

And. It. Was.

“Deku?”

And he was tiny. Katsuki could not even process what he was looking at. Where was the monster from the magazines? Had Deku even grown a single inch since high school? He looked different, sure - even through his off-the-rack suit Katsuki could see his bulked-up musculature. But he was still what, 5’5”, 5’6”? At 6’4” Katsuki had almost a full FOOT on him.

Katsuki waved his hand through the space above Deku’s head.

“The fuck? Where’s the rest of you?”

Deku cocked his head like a dog, smiling brightly despite the hint of confusion in his eyes. “Um, I’m all here! How’ve you been? I saw you got that, ah, award, that’s so cool! Congratulations! It’s well deserved! Uh, n-not that I think you’re.. I mean, I do, b-but—”

Katsuki wasn’t listening.

“Seriously, did you get hit by a shrinking quirk or something?”

Deku’s smile didn’t falter, but his cheeks started to tinge pink. “Yes, you’ve gotten very tall, Kacchan, I do have eyes.” Eyes that flicked down and then all the way back up to Katsuki’s face.

“You’re tiny,” Katsuki blurt out. He smirked, suddenly giddy. Predatory. He had nothing to worry about! Not only was Deku not taller than him, but he was shorter - much shorter. “Tiny little nerd. I could pick you up with one hand and toss you around.”

By now Deku had flushed bright red from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck. He looked overwhelmed for only a moment before his signature determination lit up his bright, glowing green eyes. 

“Y-yeah, well, I’d like to see you try!”

And Katsuki’s dick twitched in interest.

Okay. 

What.

What.

What the actual fuck.

But Katsuki didn’t have time to process whatever the fuck THAT was so it was just going to get compartmentalized because a challenge had been issued and Bakugou Katsuki was not one to back down from a challenge.

Growling, grinning, Katsuki stepped forward and loomed over Deku. He was vaguely aware of the absurdity of the situation; they were in suits at a formal event, after all. But Deku wasn’t backing down, either. The green-haired hero glared back, undaunted, until Katsuki moved like he meant to make good on his threat and Deku’s breathing hitched and okay that definitely went right to Katsuki’s dick again.

“Deku-kun, Deku-kun!” Uraraka suddenly whirled between them, her arms looping around Deku’s bright red neck. Christ, was she taller than him, too? Katsuki’s eyes dropped down to her massive heels and oh that made more sense. “Oh! Bakugou-kun! How are you?” she singsonged, smiling up at him and it was like two puppies hugging and Katsuki absolutely could not handle that much sheer cute.

Wait.

Did he think Deku was cute?

Yes, said his dick.

Fuck!!

Get your shit together. Katsuki reeled it in, giving Uraraka a polite nod and deliberately avoiding eye contact with Deku. “I’m fuckin’ fantastic. You?”

“Pfft, same! Wow it’s been a while, huh? You’re so much taller in person!” She released Deku and tapped herself lightly, floating off the ground until she was at eye level with Katsuki. “Hi! Can I steal Deku-kun? I have someone I want him to meet!”

Katsuki blinked a few times at the floating girl before coming back to his senses. It was rare for anyone, especially women, to be able to look him in the eye. But quirks always were the wildcard.

“Tch. Take him, he’s not mine.”

And something odd twisted in Katsuki’s chest at the words.

“I’ll s-see you later, Kacchan,” Deku said before Uraraka, now returned to earth, dragged him off into the crowd.

Nope.

Katsuki had to get the fuck out of there before he ‘saw him later’ because if he did he would definitely drag Deku into the bathroom and fuck him because he now realized with some level of horror that he definitely wanted to fuck him.

Fuck appearances, fuck Pants-Face, and fuck Deku because Katsuki left that party like hell itself was on his heels and he didn’t look back.




As soon as Katsuki made it out of the cab, his phone was out and dialing. Kirishima picked up after a few rings.

“Yo, what’s the emergency? You get me those tiny hot dogs?”

“Oi, why didn’t you tell me that Deku was still two fucking feet tall?”

“Uhh, what?”

Katsuki inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Deku. Is short.”

“And? I’m not following, bro. He get hit with a baby quirk? Oh my god is he a baby? Where is he, I need to see—”

“He’s not a baby!” Katsuki snapped, his raising volume catching the attention of his kindly old neighbor watering the flowers on her front balcony. At ten o’clock at night. She smiled and waved. Katsuki grimaced back, fumbling to unlock his door and slipping inside. “He’s just short. Like, high school short.”

“Is he not supposed to be? What are you getting at?”

“Are you fucking— Am I going crazy?” Katsuki sputtered, desperately searching his apartment for a magazine he hadn’t yet incinerated. Pawing under a few newspapers he finally came up with last month’s Sidekick Sweethearts (ugh) issue, left there by Kaminari at some point. “All his shit, all this shit,” Katsuki shook the magazine for emphasis as if Kirishima could see him. It fluttered open to Deku’s literal larger-than-life profile. “Makes him look like he’s over six feet tall! He’s barely five and a half!”

“Ohh, all the official promo stuff?”

Katsuki slapped it down onto his breakfast counter with a snarl. “What else?”

“Damn, dude. They frame all that shit to make him look more intimidating because Gang Orca is his boss. I thought you knew? Have you literally not seen any pictures of him that weren’t staged?”

Had he?

“What does it matter, anyway? So he’s a little short! He can’t help his height! You’re not gonna pick on him for it, are you? That’s not manly at all!”

Katsuki was not going to pick on him. He was going to pick him. Up. Pick him up and toss him over his shoulder and then onto his bed—

FUCK.

Fuck.

“Listen, I really gotta go if this isn’t an emergency. Do you want me to come by after I'm done? Bring some beers?”

“No,” Katsuki responded curtly, heart inexplicably hammering in his chest. “Thanks. Tomorrow maybe.”

“Alright, you got it. Later bro!”

Katsuki hung up and skittered his phone across the counter. Kirishima couldn’t come over because Katsuki had a date tonight. A date with his laptop and social media.

After shedding his suit and stripping down to his underclothes, Katsuki made himself comfortable on the couch and settled in for some research. 

It wasn’t hard to find the pictures of Deku that Katsuki had not seen. Deku had several public social media profiles, and while they were clearly heavily curated, they still had plenty of selfies and tagged candid photos taken by other heroes and friends. Photos of Deku smiling, working, hanging out. Shots of him in hero gear, workout gear, dumb word t-shirts and the occasional nice formal wear. Big emerald eyes and a giant mop of verdant curls on top of a compact, tight little body. Shit.

Breathing heavily, Katsuki dug his fingernails into his palms, barely feeling it at all through the thick skin there. Why was he so horny for Deku, of all people, all of a sudden? Just because he was short? He’s always been short! And Katsuki saw short people every damn day without getting hard for them. Most people were shorter than Katsuki! Cautiously, Katsuki clicked over to a related profile of the shortest member of their graduating class. He breathed out a sigh of relief as Mineta’s gallery immediately caused his Deku-boner to flag. Thank fuck.

Without thinking Katsuki navigated back to Deku’s page. Click, click, click. Picture after picture after picture, two years worth of a life lived completely outside of Katsuki’s influence or attention. How did Deku slip away so easily? Well. Katsuki knew the answer to that. Unanswered texts, ignored invitations. Complete avoidance of social media and social events. It wasn’t just Deku - Katsuki let Kirishima and Ashido drag him to a thing every now and then, and Kaminari was always showing up at his apartment uninvited with Sero in tow. But otherwise Katsuki dedicated all of his time to his job and his body. There just wasn’t any leftover to keep up with anything or anyone outside of his immediate sphere.

Deku had stopped being part of that sphere the day he walked out of the halls of UA, no longer following in Katsuki’s footsteps but forging his own path into the world.

And Katsuki had been more than happy to let him go. Until now, when he was palming his crotch while staring at a picture of that exact person in tight fitting workout shorts. What the hell was wrong with him? Had he gotten so worked up over this one-sided competition, now that it was over, it had nowhere to go but his dick?

His dick that was out and swelling under his fingers as he thought about getting his hands on what was in those shorts. Grabbing two solid, full handfuls and lifting, short but strong legs wrapping around Katsuki’s waist - although Katsuki could easily have held him up on his own, he was so small - shoving the nerd against the nearest wall and just splitting him open, stuffing him so full, hearing Kacchan moaned over and over— 

Katsuki spilled over his fist with a shuddered gasp.

Blinking dazedly, he stared down at himself in disbelief. What. Had he.. really just jacked off to Deku? Shitty Deku? His childhood friend/classmate/rival/lapsed acquaintance? Because he was short?

Snapping his laptop shut with his clean hand, Katsuki sat panting in the dark. Okay. Everything was fine. He was just stressed out. This meant nothing. He’d go right back to never seeing Deku, he’d burn every picture Kirishima tried to show him - be it on paper or digital, Katsuki didn’t give a shit - and never think about absolutely smothering the tiny nerd with his body again.

Fuck!




A few days later, Katsuki’s phone rattled against the metal of his locker shelf as he was getting dressed for patrol, one glove halfway on and the other in his teeth. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling at what was assuredly some asinine garbage from his mother or Kaminari, Katsuki pulled his glove the rest of the way on and flicked open his messages. What he found made his breath catch in his throat.

Deku: kacchan, hi! It’s izuku!

Katsuki ripped the loose glove out of his mouth. The nerd had texted him. The nerd that Katsuki had been shamefully jacking off to for days just fucking texted him. 

And introduced himself as if Katsuki didn’t have his number. Which was understandable, as it was yet another text added to a stack of unanswered messages.

Deku: um I mean deku, lol!

Katsuki knew he should silence his phone and put it away, go about his day, go on patrol. All he had to do was ignore it like every other text Deku had sent him—

But he kept watching the blinking ellipses appear and disappear in mounting anticipation.

Deku: first off sorry I had to leave so early the other night!! something came up at the agency I 
had to go take care of
it was really great to see you though!! sorry we didn’t get a chance to catch up ^^;

What? Katsuki was the one that fled the party.

Deku: but weird timing I’m going to be in your district today until around dinner time
and maybe instead of eating by myself you could eat with me?
if you want to!!!
I mean you’re probably busy
you’re definitely busy
and you probably don't want to
it's fine!! I'm used to eating by myself!!

Katsuki’s eyes widened at the text vomit. Deku was clearly nervous as hell like he was asking him out on a—

Date?

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Did.. did Deku have a similar reaction when they saw each other the other night? (the red face, leaving early, the hitch in his breathing—)

Katsuki stared daggers at his phone, trying to decipher if this was just normal nerd nervous or wanted to get fucked by Katsuki nervous.

Deku: oh my god is this even still your number
um if this isn’t kacchan I’m really sorry!!!!!

Katsuki bit his lip, weighing his options: either Deku was into him (honestly.. hadn’t he always been, a little?) and they meet up and Katsuki can live out his recent fantasies in person, or he’s NOT into him and Katsuki endures some platonic prattle over udon and then goes back to living in shame. But if there was a possibility that Katsuki’s sudden and uncontrollable arousal was justified and reciprocated, wasn’t it worth finding out? It would change everything.

Did Katsuki want everything to change?

Deku: if this IS kacchan this was just a joke! haha ! sorry!!! sorry to bother you!!

He couldn’t help but smirk somewhat fondly at the poor nerd working himself into a frenzy over unanswered texts. Katsuki decided to be merciful, and take the chance on getting his dick wet. Would it really be that bad to just hang out as friends, anyway? If Katsuki could stomach his idiot squad on a regular basis, how much worse was Deku? Especially now that Katsuki’s absurd dick measuring contest had gone up in flames.

BK: Breathe, nerd. It’s me.

Katsuki felt about a thousand times less confident than the words he wrote.

BK: When and where? I’m off at 3.

Deku: omg kacchan
really??
that's great!!
yeah it was a joke that it was a joke!! Hahah!

Katsuki rolled his eyes.

Deku: how about ramen at five?? the one by the library

BK: Sure. See you there.

With a shaky exhale, Katsuki resisted the urge to wipe his sweaty palm on his costume pants lest he accidentally detonate it later. He slid his remaining glove on over it. How was texting-Katsuki so much smoother than real Katsuki??

Deku: okay!!! :)

He half-smiled back automatically at the emoticon before catching himself and clobbering it with a frown. Stop it. He just wanted to bone the nerd. It was purely physical. No feelings, no fondness allowed.

Katsuki slammed his locker door shut.




By the end of his uneventful shift Katsuki couldn’t help but start to get a little jumpy. He’d had a handful of hookups since graduation, but they were always casual and never with anyone he knew more than cursorily. He had a hard rule: no fans and no friends. Deku was both. Right? Even if they hadn’t spoken in years, there was no getting around the fact they knew each other - since they were brats! That complicated things. It’s not like Katsuki could just pump and dump and not expect to face consequences. Likely his entire graduating class would show up on his doorstep to defend the tiny nerd’s honor, or some treacly shit like that.

Not that Katsuki couldn’t take them.

The agency’s showers were never hot enough, but it didn’t matter today because Katsuki turned the water as cold as he could possibly stand. After he was sufficiently, briskly clean, the same civvies he showed up in that morning became his dinner outfit. Katsuki didn’t have the time to go home and change into anything nicer nor the room to overthink it, but thankfully the tight black jeans that technically fell under mandatory office-wear were nice enough. The nerd would probably show up in a plain t-shirt anyway: one that said ‘really fucking short.’

With some time to kill before dinner, Katsuki ducked into a nearby street stall for a drink. It would take a lot - A LOT - to get Katsuki and his 220lbs of solid muscle drunk, but it would at least take the edge off. Shit, was he really, actually nervous? He had no reason to be. He was Bakugou Katsuki; anyone in their right mind would be falling over themselves to sleep with him. Plus, Deku had been enamored with Katsuki on some level their entire lives. He was pretty sure he could tell Deku to bend over the ramen counter for Katsuki to fuck him right there and he’d do it.

Katsuki felt his skin tingle with the very suggestion; images of roughly taking his childhood friend in the most public and lewd way possible vividly formed in his mind unbidden. Wow, okay. At this point he had apparently accepted that he wanted to fuck Deku and was moving on to actively imagining doing it outside of the private, shame-filled moments of self-gratification at home. He was in public, for fuck’s sake!

Besides, he was still firmly in the realm of fantasy. Katsuki was not an idiot. Despite what his dick was currently telling him, his brain knew that Deku wasn’t like that. Although. The sobering thought was - public indecency aside - Deku might go along with whatever Katsuki did, regardless of if he himself really wanted it.

So Katsuki was going to make very sure he wanted it.

With a glance at the time, Katsuki downed the rest of his sake and headed down the street to dinner.




Deku was waiting for Katsuki outside of the agreed-upon ramen shop. Katsuki had a secret fear that he’d roll up and Deku would suddenly be the beast from the magazines he had been competing with, the tiny version from the gala just a fever dream or result of a shrinking quirk. But no, still just as short as ever. And Oh, Katsuki thought as he approached, I’m getting lucky tonight. For even though the stupid red shoes were on his feet, Deku was not wearing a t-shirt with an absurd phrase on it. He was decked out in a collared shirt under a rumpled sweater. Katsuki had done enough.. research.. over the last few days to know that Deku’s casual style hadn’t changed much since high school. This was different. This was effort.

This was a date.

“Kacchan! Hi!” Deku’s face lit up like sunshine on a spring day, and it went straight to Katsuki’s chest instead of his crotch.

Okay, well. That was different.

“Hey, nerd.” Katsuki kept his tone even and casual. Can’t give away his carnal interests this early in the game.

Deku had to crane his neck to look up at Katsuki, but it did little to deter the absolute beaming smile he was sending out of his face. “Th-thanks for coming! I know you’re probably really busy!” 

“Tch, it’s whatever. Let’s just eat,” Katsuki said gruffly, pushing past the flap into the restaurant before Deku could see the heat blooming on his face. Shit! What was this little idiot doing to him?

“O-okay!”

Katsuki sat down at the counter and snatched up a menu despite knowing already what his order would be. He deliberately avoided looking at both Deku hopping - hopping - up onto his stool as well as the counter itself that he had just been fantasizing about barely twenty minutes ago. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Deku’s legs swinging back and forth because they didn’t reach the floor and jesus christ why is that so fucking cute?

Katsuki nodded at the man behind the counter as he walked up to take their orders. “Tonkotsu, triple noodles, egg, pork, and bok choy.”

“Oh, I’ll have the same!” Deku chirped. 

Katsuki turned to him incredulously as the man collected their menus. “Where the hell you gonna put it, half-pint? And two bottles of unfiltered sake,” he called after the server as he moved away.

“Right here,” Deku grinned as he slapped his stomach with an audible thwap. Katsuki tried not to think about the firm abdominal muscles hiding under that sweater.

Instead, he returned the grin. “You’re gonna be stuffed not even halfway through.”

Deku choked on his water. He turned away from Katsuki to cough it out.

“I th-think I can take it, Kacchan,” Deku said hoarsely.

Okay, that went to Katsuki’s dick. 

Their drinks arrived, followed shortly by their food, and they fell into a relaxed enough conversation. Well, it was mostly just Deku prattling away about anything and everything, but Katsuki was content to just drink him in. And drink with him as they polished off a second round of sake. Deku was keeping pace but not looking the slightest bit tipsy.

“How are you not completely shitfaced yet?” Katsuki asked as Deku knocked back another cup. “You’re like the size of a thimble.”

And Deku just giggled.

Fuck, but he was cute. Annoying as ever, but cute. Same round face and freckles he always had, but with a subtle sharpness around the edges that was new. Big, shining green eyes that sparkled as he spoke rapturously about all the Pro Heroes he’d gotten to meet; scarred hands flailing as he described a close call on a mission last week. A shy blush tinging his ears as he rubbed the back of his neck, recounting how embarrassed he was to show his mother his last magazine cover— Wait— 

“What the fuck is up with that shit, anyway? Why do you look so huge?”

Deku blinked at him. “Ah, yeah. It’s all camera tricks, they, um. Have me stand on boxes, a-and I’m actually several feet in front of Gang Orca—”

“Christ,” Katsuki spat. “You had me thinking you were six and half fucking feet tall!”

“What?” Deku barked, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. A titter bubbled out of his lips, then erupted into a full blown laugh. “Kacchan, what? Are you serious? I know the official stuff is all touched up nonsense but you’ve seen me.. Oh,” he cut himself off sharply. “I guess we really haven’t seen each other since graduation, huh?”

Katsuki glowered at him.

“But Ochako-chan is always posting..?” Deku searched Katsuki’s face hopefully but the answer was clear in his scowl. “Oh.”

This wasn’t going great.

“W-well, surely you watch Sidekick Showcase? Not to b-brag but I’m on it a lot?”

Deku looked embarrassed and Katsuki was feeling embarrassed himself at being caught at avoiding Deku when he was now trying to get in his pants. And Katsuki’s usual response to embarrassment was anger.

“Why the fuck would anyone watch that garbage?” he hissed.

Red had completely overtaken the color of Deku’s face as he lowered his eyes to his empty ramen bowl. “I watch it for you; you’re on it a lot, too,” he said quietly.

Uncomfortable silence fell between them and oh, Katsuki was suddenly aware of what it looked like, after two years of ignored texts where Katsuki couldn’t be bothered to check in once and a dinner where he barely spoke: that Deku was very into Katsuki, as he had always been, and Katsuki had zero interest in Deku. Which wasn’t fucking true. Katsuki had a lot of interest in Deku, even if most of it currently resided in his nether regions and his desire to bounce said object of interest on his lap.

Which didn’t have a great prognosis as Deku was currently leaving.

Fishing out his wallet, Deku quickly placed a few yen notes on the counter. Katsuki could only stare at his face in profile; glowing with enthusiasm just minutes earlier, now tight and troubled - and resigned. “I have an.. early patrol, so, I gotta.. Thank you for agreeing to dinner, you really didn’t have to,” Deku mumbled, just a hair above a whisper, before spinning on his stool and slipping out of the restaurant.

Ok, well, fuck that.

Katsuki slammed down the full bill on the counter and swiped Deku’s cash before following the nerd outside. Deku hadn’t gotten far; how could he, with those short little legs? Katsuki stormed after him with long strides, his heart thundering in his ears.

Chapter Text

Izuku was a hair's breadth away from absolutely losing it. A familiar, threatening heat built up behind his eyes as he berated himself for thinking this was going to go any differently. Who was he trying to fool? Of course Kacchan didn’t see him the same way. Why would that change now? Izuku had let old feelings and new urges get the better of him and it catapulted him directly into this mess. Two days of butterflies couldn’t erase two decades of the truth. And Izuku, selfish disaster that he was, couldn’t even just let it play out as a simple catch-up dinner with an old friend. No, he had to run away with his tail between his legs, just like he had the other night when confronted with the absolute behemoth said childhood friend had become and the immediate, embarrassing thoughts that had overtaken him. But Kacchan had said yes and Izuku had hoped..  

Kacchan probably only agreed to dinner because he felt sorry for Izuku, or wanted to make fun of him, or— Argh! Izuku, you’re terrible! Kacchan agreed to dinner because he was just a good person, it was Izuku who put these expectations on it. So what if Kacchan didn’t watch Sidekick Showcase or accept his friend requests or look at his meticulously curated social media posts or return his texts? Izuku was so conceited and self-absorbed!! Kacchan was obviously busy with his own life. His ridiculously good looking, giant life!

Couldn’t Izuku just be happy they were friends? That is.. if they were they even friends to begin with.

Heavy stomping approaching him from behind had Izuku whipping around, his awareness and reflexes still sharp despite the alcohol coursing through his system. But before he could choke out a Kacchan, a fistful of yen was shoved into his chest, hard. Ruby eyes glinted dangerously far above him.

“Oi, like fuck if you’re paying on our first date, asshole,” Kacchan growled.

And Izuku basically short-circuited.

“D-date?!” he squeaked. Oh god. Kacchan was going to kill him. “Th-this wasn’t!  I didn’t.. I mean, I wasn’t.. I wasn’t trying to!”

“Hah??” Kacchan sneered and oh, how was it possible for him to get even more gorgeous when making such a face? “Seemed like a fuckin’ date, Deku.”

The yen crumpled in Izuku’s shaking hands. “S-sorry,” he stammered, curling in on himself defensively, mortified at being caught seemingly tricking Kacchan into a date. But, wait, if Kacchan had paid, did that mean..? But he looked so mad! But he always looks mad.

“K-Kacchan, I can explain, I, well, okay, it wasn’t really supposed to be a.. d-date, I did really want to catch up but, okay, I can’t lie I was thinking that maybe if things went well it might, well, you know, because I thought I had gotten past it but when I saw you the other night, god you looked so good so big I mean and ugh it all came right back and I left immediately but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know you never respond to my texts so honestly I didn’t think you were going to and then you did, and oh my god, Kacchan, I was so nervous I had to drink just to calm down and then you came and we ate and it was great a-and th— and then..” Izuku trailed off, blanching as his brain caught up with his neverending word vomit. Oh god, had he just confessed??

Over the course of Izuku’s rant, Kacchan’s eyes had been steadily widening - now they were narrowed to slits.

“And then I made it look like I didn’t give two shits about you,” he said, voice low. 

Izuku’s chest clenched painfully. He stumbled backwards, swaying, and Kacchan caught him by the arm. Oh. Kacchan was touching him. Kacchan was touching him with his giant hand attached to his giant, beefy arm. Wait. He should be apologizing! “Sorry, sorry,” Izuku hiccuped, flailing his other arm. “I had like, five bottles of sake before dinner, I’m a little, uh, woozy.”

Kacchan’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What?” he barked, rattling Izuku by the arm. “You should be in the hospital for alchohol poisoning, what the fuck?!”

Although he hadn’t been drinking long (he just turned 20 a few months ago!), Izuku had found that alcohol never had quite the same effect on him as his peers, despite his short stature. He suspected it was One For All’s fault. “Quirky metabolism?” he offered with a half shrug and a whole smile; a smile that faltered as he looked up at Kacchan. Looked way, way up at Kacchan and his furiously smoldering, smoldering eyes.

Izuku swallowed, and Kacchan traced the movement of his adam’s apple with his gaze before flicking back up to resume their intense eye contact. The street they stood in, illuminated by cheerful shop signs and lampposts, wasn’t empty by any means but in that moment it felt like it was just the two of them.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said softly, steeling himself. “Do you.. give a crap about me?”

Keeping Izuku steady with that one large hand, Kacchan brought his other up to cup the entirety of Izuku’s right cheek. Izuku was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. Kacchan was touching more of him. Touching his face!!

“Deku. I wasn’t watching you before but I’m looking at you now.”

“Oh,” Izuku breathed, as Kacchan filled his vision by leaning all the way down to brush their noses together. Warmth ghosted between the two of them for a heart-stopping moment before Kacchan moved his hand from Izuku’s face to his hair, roughly ruffling it.

“But I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you’re fuckin’ wasted, shitty nerd,” Kacchan said with a wicked grin that Izuku could hear, before standing upright and pushing Izuku’s head even further down.

“Gak! I’m not wast— wait, take advantage of me? K-Kacchan!?” Izuku could only describe the mortifying sound that came out of him as a squeal. He pushed Kacchan’s hand off of his head. Was this really happening??

“Ask me out again,” Kacchan demanded.

Izuku blinked. And blinked again. This was happening so fast! Sure, he had prayed dinner would get him a real date, or.. more. Ugh, Izuku. But he didn’t think that far ahead! Or that he’d be the one asking!

“G.. go to the carnival with me this weekend!!” he blurted, all of his worlds jumbling together in a rush. It was an impulsive long shot, but! If Kacchan said yes to that, then.. Maybe he really did like Izuku back. At least enough to suffer through an amusement park for him. Izuku held his breath.

“Hah?? The.. clown shit?”

Oh, no. It was too risky. Izuku should have picked something simpler, something more in line with Kacchan’s tastes. Like sparring! Yeah! They could just beat each other up as a date, Kacchan would love that. And, well. Izuku would love it too, if he wound up getting pinned down under that beast at the end of it. He couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through him.

“Tch. Alright. It’s a date,” Kacchan’s agreement cut through Izuku’s drifting, impure thoughts. He said yes. He said yes!! 

“Now I’m calling you a cab, lightweight.” Kacchan pulled out his phone and did just that, ignoring Izuku’s whine of protest. He didn’t want the night to be over already, it had just gotten good! But Izuku’s vision was starting to lag behind his head movements just a hair, so, yeah, maybe it was time to call it a night.

They stood in comfortable, if a tiny bit tense, silence until the car pulled up. Izuku kept sneaking glances at his companion. Man, but he was huge. Izuku wanted to climb that tree.

Izuku.

He climbed instead into the back of the cab, his money still clutched in his hands, his heart barely contained in his ribcage. Izuku was grinning from ear to ear as he turned back to Kacchan, craning his head to keep his face in view up through the car window. He couldn’t believe what had just happened - the night had gone from good to bad to great in the span of just a few minutes. Kacchan hadn’t murdered him. Instead he had a date. A real date. With Kacchan.

“Good night, Kacchan! See you on Saturday!!”

And Kacchan smiled.

“See ya, nerd.”

Izuku smiled, too. All the way home.




“What’s wrong with what I wore yesterday?”

Ochako paused from her task of rifling through Izuku’s closet to shoot him a baleful look. “Deku-kun, you cannot wear the same thing two dates in a row. Even you must know that much.”

“I— not the same exact thing!” Izuku protested indignantly. “And it wasn’t a date! But can’t I wear just a different sweater? I’ve got at least one more collared shirt back there somewhere..”

Dumping an armful of clothes onto Izuku’s bed, Ochako thrust a few satisfactory articles she had managed to unearth - tags still on - into his chest. “Put these on. You’re not wearing some dumpy bag sweater to the carnival. And Bakugou-kun paid for you and told you it was a date, it was a date!”

Izuku eyed the clothing in his hands skeptically; pants that definitely didn’t fit and a shirt he was sure he didn’t purchase. Still, he dutifully slipped behind his byobu screen and shuffled out of his shorts and t-shirt.

“What are you, a maiden?” Ochako teased from the other side, the bed springs creaking. “I had to cut you out of your uniform a week ago.”

Tossing his shirt over the partition, Izuku was rewarded with a huffed laugh as it found his target. “I was impaled on a pipe, Ochako-chan, this is different! I’m being respectful! Oof,” he choked out. “These pants are too tight!”

“Lemme see!” Ochako bounced back up off of the bed as Izuku emerged. “Oh! Deku-kun! You look great! Yes, Bakugou-kun will definitely want to eat you right up!” She clapped her hands, pinkies outstretched, grinning ear to ear.

“What?? They don’t fit!”

Ochako rolled her eyes. “Turn around,” she ordered.

Izuku felt his face flush hot, but dutifully obliged.

“Oh yes. They fit,” she appraised, giving Izuku’s rear end a light slap. He squeaked.

“O-Ochako-chan!” he stammered, whipping back around and covering his butt with his hands.

“Don’t wear your red sneakers, the soles are too thick, you’ll be too tall. Do you have anything flatter?”

Izuku raised his eyebrows to his hairline, tilting his head in confusion. Clearly he must have misheard. “I don’t think anyone has ever said those words to me my entire life,” he said flatly. “Why wouldn’t I want to be taller? Didn’t you see Kacchan? He’s like a full foot taller than me!”

“Oh, I saw him alright,” Ochako said breathlessly. “And he saw you. Why do you think he’s suddenly interested in you?”

“B-because I’m stronger?” Izuku tried weakly.

Ochako cupped Izuku’s cheek in her left hand, careful to avoid floating him off the floor. “Deku-kun, you sweet, dew-covered, newborn fawn,” she said with a sad shake of her head.

“What??”

“You two have always been trying to one-up each other. And, well, he definitely won this one.”

Izuku shook off her hand, the good feeling he had been high on for the past day beginning to crash back down to earth. “Height isn’t a competition! It’s not like I can do anything about it! What, you think he just wants to.. Gloat? Kacchan wouldn’t do that! Or, well. I mean, he would. But he wouldn’t date me just to make fun of me! Uh. Well.” Would he?

“Oh, no, Deku-kun, you misunderstand!” Ochako flailed her hands. “He’s bigger than you, now. And he likes it,” she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

He stared at her blankly.

“Hnnn, Deku-kun!” Stomping her foot, she blew the hair out of her eyes in exasperation. “You two have been evenly matched for as long as I can remember. And you probably still are! But on a primal level, Bakugou-kun looks like he could absolutely destroy you.” When Izuku continued to blink at her, she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “With his dick!”

“Ochako-chan!” Izuku shrieked, wrapping his arms fully around his beet-red face.

“Which, by the way, are you doing anything to prepare for that? Because he is going to destroy you,” Ochako said so matter-of-factly and Izuku felt like he was going to die from mortification right on the spot. “Those tailored pants he was wearing left nothing to the imagination.”

“Oh my god, Ochako-chan!” Izuku moaned into his elbows. 

“I’m just saying!” she insisted, soothing her hands up and down Izuku’s sides. “I already had to save you after you got impaled on a pipe once this month, I don’t want to have to do it again!”

Izuku gently but firmly pushed Ochako out the door.




With shaking fingers, Izuku sat out the beginnings of his new, well, research project. His laptop, a very specific set of Hero Analysis journals, and a brand new Campos notebook for new notations. About his research. About Kacchan.

About his penis.

He could feel how red and hot his face was; flushed bright with embarrassment despite being completely alone. Was he really doing this? Poring over ancient, self-made diagrams for help with applied research for sex purposes??

Yes. Yes that was exactly what he was doing.

Did Izuku want to have sex with Kacchan? Was that even a question that needed to be asked?? Izuku's sexual awakening came courtesy of none other than the man in question, after a tumultuous fight of bloody knuckles and bared emotions. That ended with Kacchan on top of Izuku, pinning him down and snarling in victory, sweat and smoke and pure sex dripping from his fangs. Like a firecracker going off right in his crotch, oh, Izuku realized some things about himself.

He often wondered, if they hadn’t been interrupted..

Ahh!! Izuku flailed his hands as if he could shoo the thoughts away. He did NOT want to be thinking about All Might right now.

Besides, it never would have happened. At least, not like Izuku wanted. Kacchan wouldn't actually have had his way with him.

But I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you’re fuckin’ wasted, shitty nerd.

Oh, Izuku wanted nothing more than to be taken advantage of. To be taken.

He felt his face get even hotter as he allowed himself to fantasize about getting forcibly held down and fucked open. With a soft moan, he palmed the growing hardness between his legs. God, Kacchan would be rough, pressing him down into the dirt, wrenching his thighs apart with sparking hands. You like that, shitty Deku? Want me to push you down, impale you on my fat cock until you’re sobbing? Yeah, you would cry, wouldn’t you?

“N-no, Kacchan,” Izuku panted to the imaginary blond on top of him, but he meant yes, Kacchan, yes!! This wasn’t a new fantasy. Except.. something was wrong this time. The Kacchan in his head was high school sized, roughly the same as their fight at Ground Beta. That wasn’t accurate anymore, he was more like..

“Oh, god,” Izuku groaned, his eyes snapping open as the phantom Kacchan ballooned to twice his size and Izuku came violently in his pants, his abdominal muscles clenching and spasming with the sudden force.

He looked down at himself, the pleasant buzz of his orgasm keeping the shame at bay. Well. He was definitely going to have to work on lasting longer than that. Kacchan certainly wouldn’t have that problem.

But more importantly, his Kacchan-centric analysis books from highschool weren’t going to be any help. Maybe if he could figure out a growth rate and apply it to today’s date.. but that would be impossible for two reasons: one, Kacchan’s growth post-graduation (and post Izuku’s in-person notes) was clearly exponential and two, Izuku didn’t take that detailed of hero notes!!

At least not about genitals.

Turning instead to the internet, Izuku began scrolling through all of Kacchan’s recent promotional work.

He’d, uh, clean up in a few minutes.

The question wasn’t whether Izuku wanted to have sex with Kacchan, which was a given, it was whether Kacchan felt the same. Surely Ochako was jumping to conclusions? And even if Kacchan did.. Want him.. In that way, it probably wouldn’t happen for a while - if it ever happened at all! Didn’t people date, fall in love, get married first? Well, maybe not always that last one, but the first two..

Izuku’s heart swelled as he perused, smiling fondly at his oldest friend and how much he had grown - both literally and figuratively. Kacchan had always been amazing but he was a real hero now; there were an equal number of in-action rescue/combat shots and fluffy promotional fare, done dutifully but with that classic Kacchan sneer and swagger. Izuku’s ears burned and he shifted uncomfortably in the cooling mess between his thighs. What would Kacchan make of him now, looking at his photos with love right after Izuku got off thinking about him? Some hero.

Shit, Deku, I always knew you were a pervert.

Okay, that’s enough, Izuku. Down boy.

Down boy.

Oh god, oh no. Izuku shot out of his seat, meaning to throw himself into a cold shower when the next photo rolled into view. It was a very recent picture, one that Izuku hadn’t seen yet.

And it was for an underwear ad.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Izuku prayed to whatever divine being that would listen that Kacchan was a shower not a grower because he was going to get fucked to death otherwise.

Well. Research complete.

He sat back down, opened a private browser (not that anyone else used his computer but you never know) and navigated to the specialty site Ochako had recommended to him. His breathing picked up its pace, escalating shallowly, as his eyes were assaulted by the largest collection of fake penises he had ever seen. Was he really doing this? He was doing this. He was really doing this. He was going to buy a fake penis and put it into his real self.

Future Symbol of Peace over here, folks.

As if reading his mind, scrolling down the page rewarded him with a blue, red and yellow All Might themed collection. Izuku shrieked.

As quickly as quirk-enhanced-humanly possible Izuku clicked away and found the plain and basic dildo section, leaving the hero novelties behind. He couldn't help one final errant thought: would they make Deku sex toys someday? Would they make Ground Zero ones???

Christ, Deku.

Not now, fantasy Kacchan!!

After an inordinate amount of time comparing different models and reading needlessly detailed reviews, Izuku finally made his purchase. Purchases. He also really, really needed to take a shower. Glancing over the order confirmation one last time before heading to the bathroom, Izuku hoped they were what he needed. A few very embarrassing items, including lots of lube, a small dildo, and. 

An extra large one. 

To train. That’s what it was for. Training. His butt. To get completely railed by Kacchan.

“Ughh,” he moaned, shucking off his soiled clothes and stepping into the cold spray of water. “Who am I kidding? Kacchan is going to want nothing to do with me when he finds out what a pervert I am.”




Realistically, they weren’t going to sleep together after their first date. Right? Even getting a kiss - oh god, kissing Kacchan - seemed like a lofty goal. Izuku still wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t just going to be strictly platonic or turn into some elaborate prank. He was really getting ahead of himself.

But that didn’t stop him from getting overnight shipping.

Just in case.

It was Wednesday when the discreet, label-free package showed up on Izuku’s doorstep. The carnival was on Saturday, which meant Izuku had three whole days to get his backdoor ready for any potential happy ending to their date. Three days to get from beginner to expert. Small to extra large.

Plus Ultra.

..This was ridiculous, right?

Izuku stared down at the implements of ass destruction he had laid out on his bed, properly sanitized and ready for use. Even the small dildo looked impossibly large, to make no mention of the absolute monster sitting next to it. He had opted for plain and unrealistic - a pleasant powder blue for the small one and bright orange for the behemoth. He hadn’t wanted anything that looked even remotely like a real penis, because, well. The only penis he wanted inside of him was Kacchan’s. Having the dildos be featureless silicone seemed more like they were simply utilitarian tools rather than a lewd sex stand-in.

As intimidating as the orange dildo was, Izuku couldn’t help but twitch a little at how heavy, how girthy it felt in his hands. According to his ‘research,’ this was approximately what he’d be looking forward to if Kacchan deigned to get intimate with him. Could this thing actually fit inside of him? He began to feel warm as he imagined being stretched impossibly wide around it.

“Okay, definitely getting ahead of myself,” Izuku muttered, putting the large toy off to the side. He turned the lights down and unceremoniously stripped naked, before thinking better of it and shrugging back on an open button-up shirt to feel a smidge less exposed. Even though he was alone. Thrumming with nerves and the beginnings of arousal he laid himself down on his bed, blue beginner in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. 

For probably close to five minutes he just stared at the ceiling.

It’s not that Izuku didn’t want to have something shoved up his ass. He very much wanted that. But, if he was being completely, totally honest, he didn’t want to do it himself! He’d never even so much a put a finger near there outside of bathing himself. Now, if Kacchan were doing it..

Tch. You need me to fuck you with a shitty piece of plastic?

“Oh, yes, please,” Izuku breathed, letting the gruff, gravelly tones of his longtime crush manifest in his imagination. He squirted out some of the lube into his hand, spreading it over the dildo and his fingers, before resting the toy on his stomach.

Gonna have to open you up first, Deku. Nice and slow.

Izuku felt himself flush. He hated that his idea of dirty talk mostly came from smutty hero fanfiction he used to read in high school. A habit he quickly dropped once some of the subjects became UA faculty in second year!

He dropped his head back on his pillow, allowing his eyes to slip shut as he gave his dick a few languid strokes to bring it to full hardness. He canted his hips up, lowering his other hand with slicked fingers down to his entrance. Lots of internet searching had given Izuku the basic mechanics, but he still shook with nerves as he circled the ring. Strictly speaking, he didn’t have to start with fingering, but his finger was still smaller than the dildo, so he wanted to make sure he wasn’t biting off more than he could.. insert. With a deep breath, he gently pushed one finger in.

His eyes shot open and he stopped breathing. Oh, okay. This was weird. It didn’t feel.. Bad, but it didn’t feel great either.

Relax, idiot. You’re squeezing me too tight.

“O-okay,” Izuku said to no one, and relaxed. He began to move his finger in and out, slowly. Interesting. On a clinical level, it wasn’t doing much for him. But every single time he pictured those red eyes and that husky voice, he clenched around his finger and his cock bobbed against the toy on his stomach, dribbling against it. “Kacchan,” he moaned.

That’s it, Deku. Now I’m gonna spread you wide open.

He fumbled with the bottle of lube on the bed with his free hand, drizzling some more over his busy digit. Returning to slowly stroking himself, he tried to push in a second finger.

“Hnng!!”

He froze. Oh, good god. Breathing rapidly, he waited to adjust to the sensation. It still didn’t hurt, but he felt, he felt.. Full. He felt full and it felt amazing and he wanted more.

Eager, aren’t we?

“Yes, Kacchan,” he panted, withdrawing his fingers slowly, shuddering at the lewd sound it made. Izuku desperately wished he had more hands; wanted Kacchan’s hands all over him, in his mouth, on his nipples, his stomach, his cock—

Izuku was getting close and he hadn’t even gotten to the main event. With an anguished grunt he squeezed at the base of his dick, pulling back from his impending orgasm. Edging, another thing learned from his research, would help him last longer. But he couldn’t bring himself to purchase an honest-to-god cock ring, so manual would have to do. Shaking, he scooped up the dildo from his abdomen. Now or never.

He eased it in slowly, but even just the tip was already so much more than his fingers. How could he possibly take the orange one? Take Kacchan? And yet.. Izuku was slowly getting filled, and it was a full feeling he found he liked, as long as he pictured Kacchan alongside it. Wouldn’t it be great to be filled even more? To be stuffed completely with cock, with Kacchan? With Kacchan’s monstrous body pressing down on him, pushing him into the bed and splitting him open just right?

With a long, low moan, the toy bottomed out and Izuku nearly came again. Tears squeezed out of his eyes as he grabbed himself, holding off his orgasm once more. He knew this was a lot for his first time, he’d read dozens of guides that said he should work up to this, but..

He only had three days.

Breathing shallowly, Izuku began to pull the dildo back out. Oh, god, it felt nearly as good going out as it did going in. He set a slow rhythm, fucking himself on the blue piece of silicone as he stroked his erection, all while fantasy Kacchan growled pure filth in his ear.

Yeah, you like that? Gonna fuck the shit out of you, Deku. Gonna fuck you so hard, so deep, you’ll be weeping on my fuckin’ cock as I fill you to the brim. Gonna pump you so full of cum you’ll burst, gonna hold you down and rail you til you can’t remember how words work. And then I’m gonna flip you over and do it again. Shove right back in and pound you til you can’t walk.

“Yes, yes, a-ah, Ka, Kacchan!”

Like the crack of a whip Izuku came with a strangled cry, his body seizing up, clamping down hard on the toy in his ass as his cock erupted, painting his chest - and face - with spurts of milky white semen.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, chest heaving.

Holy fucking shit.

Izuku had masturbated to Kacchan many, many times over the years, but he never, ever felt anything like that before. How much better would the orange one be? How much better would Kacchan be?

He was pretty sure he never even hit his prostate.

Just you wait, nerd.

Easing the dildo out of him, he slowly pulled himself out of bed. He felt weird and wobbly all over, like he had been training too much or just had a fever. It was good, but it was.. Missing something. Missing big strong arms rolling him over and pulling him tight to a massive, broad chest. Izuku frowned, cleaning himself up, pushing down the thought that this entire venture was just wishful thinking. Just fantasy. He couldn’t deny this had been fun, but it only stayed that way so long as it was the preamble to a main event. 

If it only led to more adventurous solo play, Izuku didn’t think he could take it.

Sighing, he ambled into the shower, the slight ache in his ass hardly noticeable next to the ache in his heart.




Izuku never made it to the orange one.

He masturbated a few more times, but he could never quite relax enough to bring himself to even attempt to try the monster dildo. The more he even looked at it, the more ridiculous he realized he was being. Izuku just straight up didn’t want to put that inside of him, at least not by himself. But the final straw was a midnight research spiral down message boards that resulted in some conflicting conclusions. There were many people insisting that, essentially, even if he did shove that beast up his butt, it might not even make a difference.  

If anything, he risked putting himself in a position where he’d be too sore to do anything at all.

And he definitely didn’t want to risk that.

“If what matters is going slow and being receptive, I don’t see what the issue is,” Todoroki said simply as he picked at the remains of his bento box. The two of them were having a late lunch together on the rooftop of Endeavor’s agency on Friday evening. Todoroki didn’t work at it anymore, but he still liked to eat up there just to piss off his father. Some things never change.

“You want to sleep with Bakugou. So you’ll be receptive.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Though he might not be very slow. I can see him going at it more like a jackrabbit.”

Izuku’s face flushed only a little. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to be so forthcoming all of a sudden with his new, potential sex life - with Todoroki of all people, but it hadn’t gone as badly as he had expected. If anything, his friend’s bluntness made it all the easier to discuss such a sensitive topic.

“I just don’t want to mess it up,” Izuku mumbled. “What if it hurts, and we have to stop?”

Todoroki blinked. “Then you stop. I know you’re a masochist, but surely you won’t want to keep going if it hurts that much. As feral as Bakugou can be, I doubt even he would want that.”

Izuku shifted uncomfortably, kicking out his legs dangling over the edge of the roof. I’m not a masochist, he thought petulantly. 

“Why do you have to have sex at all? I thought you were in love with him.”

Sputtering, Izuku turned horrified eyes on Todoroki. “I’m— what?! Who! I didn’t!”

Todoroki shrugged. “Or not. But you at least like him. If it was just his size, you’d be trying to sleep with your boss. Or my father.”

Izuku choked. “T-T-Todoroki-kun!!”

“Sorry,” Todoroki said with a sly smile, making it very apparent he wasn’t. “I'm just saying, focus on Bakugou. Have fun, and whatever happens, happens. One date doesn’t have to end in sex.”

Izuku buried his head in his hands. “But I want it to, Todoroki-kun,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted this so long I think I’ll explode if it doesn’t.”

Todoroki pried Izuku’s face up with his chopsticks, forcing Izuku to look up into mismatched eyes. “But you’re not in love with him.”

“..No?”

It must have been a trick of the setting sun, but Izuku swore he saw all of Todoroki’s scar twitch.

Suddenly, the door to the roof slammed open, and the temperature rose several degrees.

“SHOUTO.”

“This was fun,” Todoroki said lightly, pushing off of the roof, catching himself from certain death on the street below with a last-second blast of heat and ice.

Izuku turned to face the very large man in the doorway.

He waved.

“Hi, Endeavor-san.”

Yeah. He only wanted Kacchan.

Chapter Text

Katsuki wasn’t nervous.

Nervous? Tch. Feh. Bakugou Katsuki didn’t get nervous. Getting nervous was for two-bit, small-fry villains and extras, not future Number One Hero Ground Zero.

If only his palms would stop leaking copious amounts of explosive material directly counter to that fact.

The days between the ramen date and Saturday flew by, and soon enough Katsuki was finishing off tidying up his apartment so it would be ready if necessary. When he started down this path a week ago, he wouldn’t have thought it was presumptuous. Katsuki gets to fuck who Katsuki wants to fuck. The only reason he even agreed to the first dinner was because he wanted to slam the tiny nerd into the nearest available surface and rail his brains out. But now.. Were there.. Feelings involved? Was expecting this date to make it back to his apartment just sleazy?

Ugh. Fucking Deku.

Literally the only person that could possibly make him feel this way.

..That probably meant something.

Shit.

Katsuki had wanted to pick Deku up (metaphorically and literally) but they lived on opposite sides of the fairgrounds, both within walking distance, so they ultimately decided to just meet there. With one last rag in the laundry bin and a forced wink in the mirror, Katsuki breezed out the door.

If only he felt as confident as he looked: his nicest pair of jeans, a tight v-neck shirt and a zippered sweatshirt to dress it down. What? He was going to a carnival, not an opera.

The walk over helped calm him down, the cooling evening air wicking away his volatile sweat before it blew anything up. In the distance he could see the bright lights of the carnival just beginning to show up against the darkening sky.

But the brightest light was a little green one, shining at him from off to the left of the ticket window.

Christ. When did he get this cheesy?

And if Katsuki thought Deku had put effort into his appearance before, it was nothing compared to the tasty snack laid out before him now. Tight, dark pants, with a fitted Henley shirt barely hidden under a light jacket. The big red shoes were even missing. Katsuki made a mental note to send Uraraka flowers.

Not that he had a problem with the shoes, or the ‘shirt’ shirts. But Deku looked really fucking good tonight.

Katsuki was going to eat him.

“Kacchan!! You made it!”

Katsuki scowled as he approached. “Tch, of course. You think I was gonna stand you up?”

Deku’s big smile faltered, and shit, was Katsuki already fucking this sideways again? He didn't think he’d have any trouble sweeping the idiot off his feet (literally and metaphorically) but now he realized that he was right to be nervous. Unless Deku wanted to be courted with a fist fight, Katsuki had no idea what he was doing.

But instead of falling, the smile widened into something mischievous, eyes crinkling. “Just impressed you didn’t get lost, is all.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. Maybe the little shit did want to get courted with a fist fight.

“Alright,” he growled, cocking his head toward the gate. “We gonna do this thing or what?”

“Yes!” Deku bounced on his toes, waving a pair of paper slips. “Let’s go in! I’m so excited, Kacchan, this fair is only in town for the weekend and I haven’t been since we were kids but I hear it’s still really fun and—”

“Oi, you bought tickets already?” Katsuki tried not to let too much annoyance seep into his voice, but where did the asshole get off paying for their admission?

“It’s only fair, Kacchan paid for dinner on Tuesday. And I technically asked you out. Both times!”

“Still,” Katsuki grumbled as they walked over together.

Deku handed their tickets to the woman at the entrance, looking up at Katsuki after they were inside. “What, you think you should get to pay because you’re taller than me?”

“I think I should get to do a lot of things because I'm taller than you,” Katsuki said, ducking down so his low voice could be heard. Deku visibly shivered. A thrill went up Katsuki’s spine as the control tipped back into his favor. “I’m older than you, too.”

“Hardly,” Deku protested, rubbing his arms as if it was the late September air giving him goosebumps. “So what should we do first?”

Katsuki scanned the cheerful array of stands and merriments laid out before them, shrugging. “It’s your date, isn't it?”

“Right!” Deku wasn’t deterred, no, far from it: his hands balled into fists, his mouth and brow set with determination. He pointed at a tall structure down the path to their left. “First, the rollercoaster!”

Brushing a hand just over the top of fluffy curls, Katsuki grinned. “Pretty sure you gotta be at least this tall to ride, Deku,” he said.

Deku’s cheeks flared a nice rosy hue. Katsuki couldn't help but think it complemented his indignant green eyes perfectly.

“Are you going to do this all night, Kacchan?”

“Probably,” Katsuki said lightly, silently making it his mission to keep those freckles painted red. He took off toward the rollercoaster with long strides. Deku hurried to keep up, his short legs pumping double time.

But in a few just-as-short minutes their expressions had reversed, with Deku grinning stupidly and Katsuki scowling like someone had just stolen his lunch from the agency fridge.

(That intern put in for a transfer immediately.)

“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to use the large capacity cars at the back. Please line up in one of the blue lanes.”

Deku’s green mane rose well over the ‘You Must Be This Tall To Ride’ marker, just as Katsuki’s spikes were considerably above the ‘Large Capacity Only Above This’ one. Safety first.

“Fine,” Katsuki hissed, snatching Deku’s wrist and dragging him down the rows to the back. Everyone knew the front cars were the best and most thrilling, but whatever! He unceremoniously shoved the pipsqueak into a waiting car before climbing in after him, sitting heavily down onto the hard metal seat with a huff. He glanced down. To his surprise, his companion’s arms were wrapped around his face in what Katsuki knew to be his standard flustered defense mode. Katsuki’s own embarrassment flared, and as usual it manifested harshly. “What, Japan’s Rising Star doesn’t like getting tossed around?”

Deku mumbled something into his arms as the safety bar clicked down around them. 

“Hah??”

That round, freckled face popped out, red and gloriously frazzled, snapping, “I said, maybe I like it too much, Kacchan!”

Oh.

Well Katsuki didn’t have much time to dwell on that before the coaster rattled to life, taking off down the rickety track. An old childish joy rumbled beneath his breastbone. When was the last time he was even on a rollercoaster? The half smile that curled his mouth was genuine, although the rush from the dips and turns wasn’t as dramatic as he remembered. Maybe it was because now he flew through the air on the regular, propelled by the thrusters in his fists.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

The caterpillar of cars climbed the steep hill agonizingly slowly, building the anticipation and setting off a chorus of nervous giggles down the line of other passengers in front of them. A light pressure oh-so-subtly bloomed against Katsuki’s left side, and he looked down again, this time to see green eyes hidden from view, squeezed tightly shut. Was the nerd afraid of heights? That couldn’t be right. Katsuki knew Deku had several rooftop fights under his belt this month alone - from his extensive research. Still, it warmed something odd in his chest as Deku pushed against him. Snuggled, even.

Katsuki threw caution to the wind and snaked his arm over Deku’s shoulders as they hit the apex. It was a date, after all.

Deku’s eyes snapped open and they plummeted to earth, wind whipping their hair into knots as shrieks of delight ripped from their mouths. From Deku’s mouth. Katsuki did not shriek.

He just didn’t.

But he maybe gave a little whoop, forgetting for a moment any nervousness, allowing himself to just be a kid flying through the air without any stakes, his oldest friend’s hands clutched tightly at his waist and his heart.

 


 

When the ride came to an end, Katsuki once again yanked Deku’s arm as he pulled him out of the car. But this time he didn’t let go.

What? He’s on a date. Fuck you.

“Kacchan!” Deku laughed, breathless. “Where are we going? I thought this was my date!”

“It’s our date,” Katsuki retorted, pulling him along. And that was that. They slowed to an easy pace as they thread through the crowd, passing glitzy stalls and workers in costume, hardly distinguishable from heroes and villains. They were still holding hands. It was actually, inconceivably, kind of nice. Until Deku stopped moving and nearly tore Katsuki’s arm out of his socket; which, if you knew anything about Katsuki’s arm sockets, was really saying something about the amount of strength hiding in that pint-sized package.

“Oh my god, Kacchan, I need it,” Deku gasped, pointing at a row of brightly colored bears hanging from a prize stand. Red, blue and yellow. All Might bears. And they were huge.

“Those things are as big as you are, squirt,” Katsuki said with a click of his tongue.

“Kacchan.” Deku scrunched up his face in an exaggerated pout. “Win one for me?”

Katsuki wrinkled his nose. The game was a classic Test of Strength, where you had to ring the bell with a hammer slam. Well within Deku’s capability. Was he making fun of Katsuki? Or maybe.. Wanted to see him show off? 

“Hah? Why can’t you win it yourself?”

Deku’s outstretched finger moved to a sign posted next to the bell tower. No Enhancement Quirks. An additional note was tacked onto it: Even if you say you’re not going to use it!

“Well that seems hard to regulate,” Katsuki muttered, but he stepped up to the attendant nonetheless. He rolled his shoulders. Bear as good as acquired.

The man running the game looked Katsuki up and down, raising a singular eyebrow. “Enhancement quirk?”

“Tch, no,” Katsuki spat. 

“..You sure?” The man gestured vaguely to his own arms while staring at Katsuki’s massive guns.

Katsuki rolled his eyes before letting off a small pop in his right hand. At his left, Deku scoffed, his face contorting with indignation. “Don’t you know who he is?”

Both Katsuki and the man shook their heads as Katsuki handed over the fee and picked up the mallet. “I told you, idiot, no one watches that showcase nonsense. Oi.”

Deku’s brow unfurrowed before he could launch into a tirade, looking up at Katsuki expectantly.

“You ever chopped wood, Deku?”

Squinting, Deku’s head quirked to the side like he was trying to figure out if Katsuki was making some kind of innuendo. Katsuki grinned, twirling the hammer easily before resting it lightly on the target.

“Test of Strength is a fucking trick, you see,” he began, intentionally flexing his back muscles for show, unable to resist the temptation to preen. A glance back at Deku’s flushed face only encouraged him. “All these big meatheads swing as hard as they can and barely make it halfway, it’s hilarious. Strength helps, sure. But how you ring the bell is all in the grip.” And, okay, that was a little innuendo. Katsuki swung the mallet in an arc behind him, hands spread on the handle, bringing them together at the apex to drive the momentum straight into the ground.

Ding!!

Katsuki turned back with a smug smile, which nearly fell right off his face from the star beams shooting out of Deku’s massive glittering eyeballs right through Katsuki’s chest.

“Kacchan’s amazing!!”

It’s not like Katsuki hadn’t been on the receiving end of that look, or that exact phrase, before. But this time it felt different; something warm and foreign blooming inside his ribcage. Fuck, was he really falling this hard already?

“Your prize, big winner.”

The smile did slide fully off of Katsuki’s face then as he was presented with his spoils. For instead of the classic yellow, red and blue he was expecting, he was looking at some kind of color-blocked monstrosity. Red on one side of its face, white on the other. Two tones of blue split down its stuffed body. Like two different bears had been cut apart and sewn together. Like some kind of half n’ half nonsense.

“The hell is this shit,” Kacchan hissed, recoiling. “That’s not what I won. Give me the All Might one!”

“Oh my god,” Deku gasped, his arms already outstretched. “A Shouto bear!! I didn’t even know these were in production!”

“Fresh off the assembly line, actually,” the attendant explained. He bypassed Katsuki and handed the bear directly over to Deku, who was literally hopping up and down in excitement. “They’re the new top prize, just haven’t hung ’em up yet.”

Katsuki spread his arms in bewilderment and barely-contained fury as Deku was eclipsed by the enormous plush beast. “The fuck. How does Half n’ Half have merch already?”

“His father, probably?” The voice was muffled through a foot of stuffing.

“Well I don’t want it!” Katsuki jabbed his finger at the man, who was already turning to the next customer in line. “Oi, give me an All Might bear!”

“Sorry, you already accepted your prize. You’ll have to play again and do worse for the second-place tier.”

“Do worse? Fuck that,” Katsuki spat. He turned his ire on the mass of fabric blocking the tiny idiot from view. “Deku, put that shit down. I’m burning it.”

Spinning to shield the toy with his body, Deku scurried away from the game stand. “Nooo! Kacchan won it for me!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Dropping his voice, he glanced sidelong at the attendant. “How much for the bear?”

The man shot him a baleful look. “Keep moving, Goldilocks.”

“The fuck you just call me?”

“Kacchan!”

“Die!” Katsuki yelled, and stomped across the pathway with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Happy?” he asked when he reached his infuriating date.

“Oh, Kacchan, yes,” Deku nodded emphatically, his face buried in white fur. “Like I said, you won it for me! Of course I’m happy!”

Katsuki smiled.

“..And it’s brand-new, limited edition,” Deku added under his breath.

Katsuki scowled. “Tch. You fucking nerd. Fine, but you gotta carry it.”

Even without using his quirk, carrying a large stuffed animal was never going to be a challenge for Deku. But it was almost as big as he was. And that was hilarious, and adorable.

“Okay, Kacchan.” With a small, sheepish smile, Deku shifted the toy fully into his left side, his right hand sticking out from under one of its fat blue arms. “Um, d-do you think we could, I mean, if you want to—”

Katsuki took his hand.

 


 

“I’m hungry, Kacchan.”

Katsuki snorted. “Didn’t you eat dinner before this?”

“Well, yeah, but I want carnival food! Ooh, do you think they have funnel cakes?”

They slowed to a stop in front of the food stands. Katsuki wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You eat that shit? It’s nothing but fried dough and sugar.”

“Exactly,” Deku breathed, rapturous. “I’m going to get a corn dog too, do you want anything?”

Katsuki only scowled deeper.

“I’m not eating anything they sell here.”

Deku grinned. “Wouldn’t want to compromise your World’s Sexiest Sidekick title, huh?”

“Damn straight,” Katsuki muttered, before he realized what he had responded to. “Oi, not you, too. I hear enough about that from Shitty-Hair.”

“One corn dog and a funnel cake, please!” Deku craned his head back to look up at Katsuki, dropping their hands to fish out his money. “What? It’s a well-deserved win!” His ruddy cheeks deepened in color. “I mean, it’s n-not a secret anymore that I think you’re, well, I mean. You know.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow, caught somewhere between a gloat and a full-body blush. His cheeks felt warm as he puffed out his chest, if only slightly. Of course the nerd found him attractive, who wouldn’t? But still, Katsuki hadn’t heard it explicitly yet, outside of a snatch in the muttering avalanche from the other night. He scratched the underside of his chin with feigned nonchalance. “No I don’t know, Deku, what do you think I am?”

Avoiding eye contact and the question, Deku took the plate of greasy, sugary confectionery from the woman behind the counter. But when she tried to hand him the corn dog, he found himself out of hands. “Um, could you get that for me, Kacchan? Or hold the bear?”

Plucking the offensive fried frank from the woman’s fingers, Katsuki gestured with it back toward their previous path, and they resumed walking. He twirled the corn dog slowly. “How you planning on eating any of this, Deku?”

“If— If you could hold the bear—”

“Nah,” Katsuki cut him off with a growing, predatory grin. “Told you you’d have to carry it.”

“Kacchan.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Katsuki turned abruptly, stepping off the crowded walkway where they could stop without interrupting traffic. Predictably, Deku followed him. They weren’t completely hidden from passersby, but enough so that no one would really pay them any mind. “Here.” Katsuki raised the corn dog to Deku’s lips, a challenge simmering under the helpful gesture. “Eat.”

Deku squinted up at Katsuki. But instead of protesting, he opened his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Katsuki whispered.

Red bloomed across Deku’s face, but before he could snap his jaw shut, Katsuki gently pushed the phallic food item passed those plush lips. Then, instead of biting down, Deku moved forward - drawing the corn dog deeper in until tears welled up fat and shiny in the corners of his eyes. It was the most erotic thing Katsuki had ever witnessed.

Deku was so short, looking up at him through wet lashes; Katsuki couldn’t help but think about how the view matched how Deku would look on his knees. About how much bigger than the corn dog Katsuki’s dick was, how Deku’s lips would look stretched around it—

“Fuck, Deku.” His voice was wrecked, and he wasn’t even the one with a fucking hot dog down his throat.

Pulling back, lips dragging obscenely along the length of it, Deku slowly sunk his teeth through the soft breading and meat, sliding about half the corn dog off of the stick. His cheeks stuffed full, he began to chew; not breaking his furious watery eye contact with Katsuki even for a moment. After what felt like an eternity he swallowed, panting slightly. With no prompting, he went back for the rest of it, taking the remainder from the side with his teeth. When that was gone, he licked his lips, glistening with grease.

Deku’s face was just about the reddest Katsuki had ever seen it. Still, if the two of them had anything in common it was their refusal to back the fuck down, and Deku gamely showed up once again. He shakily raised the plate of sugar-coated dough. “I think I need a hand with this, too.”

Katsuki swallowed. He was half hard already, what the fuck was his game plan here? He tossed the clean stick in a trash can behind them before turning his attention to the plate of dessert.

Pinching off a piece of the soft cake, Katsuki slowly directed it to Deku’s mouth. His fingers brushed against Deku’s soft lips as he fed him, piece after piece after piece, never breaking eye contact. “Christ,” he muttered, when Deku’s tongue flicked out, chasing the sugar as it crumbled away.

He grabbed the rest of the cake, and with no preamble smeared the grease and sugar across the bottom half of Deku’s face, leaving a shiny trail of white.

“This is a good look on you, Deku,” Katsuki whispered hoarsely.

Deku licked his lips again.

“S-sexy,” he said quietly. “I think you’re really sexy, Kacchan.”

“Fuck, you’re one to talk, you little minx,” Katsuki growled, barely controlled lust practically dripping from his words.

Deku’s eyebrows shot straight up. “What? Me?”

“Yes you, you idiot. Now go clean yourself up before I do something that gets us both arrested.” Katsuki snatched the empty plate away, throwing it and the last handful of mashed dough in the trash. He burned off the grease left on his hands with few micro explosions before shaking off the sparks and stretching out his arms. “I’ll hold the stupid bear.”

“Please don’t destroy it, Kacchan,” Deku said meekly as he handed the multi-colored bag of fluff over. Face still red and covered in sugar, he hurried off toward the nearest restroom. Giving Katsuki a full view of his pert, round buttocks barely contained behind tight pants pockets. 

“Fuck.”

Flipping out his phone to pass the time and distract his dick, Katsuki slowly meandered back out to the edge of the pathway while he waited, giant bear secured under one arm. He had a few unread messages in the group chat; Katsuki had forbidden any of his idiot squad from so much as looking in the direction of the carnival tonight, so they were undoubtedly peppering him with questions about how the night was going. Rather than trying to wade through their deluge of memes and piss poor typing, he opened the singular direct message he had from Kirishima.

Shitty Hair: sorry about everyone in the gc lol. but lemme kno how it’s going when you can i’m dying bro

Katsuki should have been annoyed by all of the knuckleheads getting up in his business, but he only felt fond. Fuck, but he was getting soft in his old age.

BK: It’s going well I think. We haven’t killed each other yet.
And I’m pretty sure now it’s mutual.

Shitty Hair: omg that’s a low bar but expected haha
dude of course it’s mutual

Katsuki hesitated. ‘No I mean I’m pretty sure he wants me to fuck him’ seemed too crass to type out, even for him.

“I have to say, this is unexpected. But, I’m honored.”

Looking up from his phone, Katsuki found himself face-to-face with just about the last person he wanted to see at that exact moment, short of a villain like All For One or his mother. He followed their mismatched eyes down to the giant prize tucked under his arm. Bearing his likeness.

Katsuki went nuclear.

“Shove it, Half n’ Half! I didn’t get it on purpose!!”

Todoroki shrugged almost imperceptibly. “It’s very big of you to show this kind of support publicly. You’ve really grown a lot, Bakugou.”

“You son of a— The hell are you here for? You checking up on him or some shit?”

“Oh, hi Todoroki-kun!”

Katsuki spun, fuming. “No,” he snarled, grabbing Deku’s hand and stalking off into the crowd, dragging the tiny nerd behind him, stupid Half n’ Half bear still snug in his armpit.

“B-bye, Todoroki-kun!”

Todoroki waved.

 


 

They didn’t stop moving until they came to the funhouse. Katsuki had paused briefly as they passed the Tunnel of Love, before ultimately deciding against it, a half dozen crude jokes on his tongue. He didn’t trust himself alone in the dark with Deku in an explicitly romantic setting, not after the corn dog incident.

At least not while they were still in public.

Katsuki wanted to shove the bear back in Deku’s face and demand the nerd carry it again, but. As adorable as Deku being drowned in plush fabric was, Katsuki ultimately preferred the view unobstructed. Much cuter that way. So he kept the dual-tone nightmare tight to his left side, so he could keep Deku tight to his right.

“Aren’t we a little old for this?” Katsuki eyed the funhouse entrance with unmasked skepticism.

“No, it’ll be fun! It’s right in the name! C’mon!”

Well Katsuki couldn’t argue with that logic.

A series of moving floor plates that made their knees wobble, a circuit of animatronic padded columns they had to dodge, a giant ball pit they waded through. Although Katsuki wanted to scowl and grouse, he couldn’t help but laugh every time Deku fell flat on his face. Even when Katsuki went down into a pile of foam blocks, absurdly twisting to keep the bear from any harm, he laughed. He had fun.

It reached its peak in the last room: the silly mirrors.

“Kacchan, you’re so skinny,” Deku barked, pointing at Katsuki’s reflection, where he more closely resembled All Might now instead of All Might ten years ago. 

Katsuki turned, admiring the svelte view. “More aerodynamic this way,” he said with an appraising frown. He almost choked when he looked to see Deku’s counterpart. “Christ, Deku, you need to lay off the funnel cake.”

“What? I think I look good!” Deku twirled, and his much wider reflection did too. “I’m, um, what do they call it, thick? Wow, look at my butt!”

Katsuki didn’t need to be told twice.

They moved to another set of mirrors, and for a moment they just stared, silent. Their statures had been completely reversed: Deku looked to be well over six feet tall, and Katsuki was compressed into barely five.

Deku tittered on a laugh, but he didn’t sound particularly happy. His hands twisted together. 

“Kacchan, would.. Would you still be interested in me if I was, um, tall?”

Hm.

Katsuki couldn’t deny that his sexual attraction to Deku blew up out of nowhere when he suddenly felt like he could fit the nerd in his pocket. But against all odds, he was having a good time, and hell, actually liked Deku? Like, like liked him. Katsuki looked over the monster in the mirror, the phantom from the magazines that had haunted him. He no longer felt like a threat.

He was just Deku.

“Would you like me if I was short?”

Deku looked offended. “I’d like Kacchan at any size! But I, um. I guess it wasn’t a fair question, because I do really like you, uh. Big.”

Katsuki tried to suppress his smirk. “Yeah? Well I like you small. And, fuck. Yeah, I like you, you idiot,” he huffed, feeling his cheeks warm.

Deflecting before Deku could respond, he gestured at their alternate universe counterparts in the mirrors. “Would still be pretty fun if it were reversed, though. You could pick me up.”

Something glinted in Deku’s eyes, even in the relative dark of the room. “I can pick you up now!”

“Oi, what—” was all Katsuki managed to get out before he was scooped up, bear and all, and carried bridal-style out of the funhouse.

Dumbfounded for only a moment more, Katsuki let Deku get him just a few feet outside before he twisted, rolling out of the loose grip and back onto his feet. The bear tumbled to the ground. Shoving his hands right under Deku’s armpits, Katsuki hauled him up so that they finally saw eye-to-eye, before slamming him straight back against the funhouse wall, feet dangling uselessly.

Deku gasped.

“I think I like it better like this,” Katsuki growled lowly, before leaning in for the kill.

“Please, not in front of my bear.”

Katsuki slowly, murderously, turned his head, the veins under his temple about to pop right out of his skin. Todoroki stood right behind him, calmly biting off a piece of pink cotton candy and looking extremely bored.

“I am going to end you, Half n’ Half,” Katsuki seethed. With a grunt, he heaved Deku over his shoulder like a sack of flour, squatting to snag the accursed toy before storming off once again.

“Bye, Todoroki-kun!” Deku called cheerfully.

Todoroki waved.

 


 

“Kacchan.”

“Hnn?”

“You can put me down, now.”

Katsuki had won the bear under his arm but the real prize was draped over his other shoulder. He slid his hand up the back of Deku’s thighs, gliding over considerable muscle before he zeroed in on his target at the top.

“Don’t wanna.”

He squeezed, and Deku squeaked.

“K-Kacchan! People are staring!”

“Let ’em,” Katsuki scoffed, but he swung Deku back down to his feet regardless. Their hands found one another immediately, fingers interlacing smoothly like it was something they had done their whole lives.

The hour grew late, their footsteps having traversed nearly the entirety of the fairgrounds before they stopped in front of the ferris wheel.

“One more?” Deku asked.

Katsuki suddenly didn’t want the night to end. Sure, he had started out hoping he could get this part over as fast as possible, toss the nerd over his shoulder and into his bed. But even though he did that first part, he hadn’t rushed home with his conquest.

“Yeah.”

There was only one size of car this time. But, it was still big enough to fit the three of them: Katsuki, Deku, and the Shouto bear that sat squished between the two.

The wheel turned, raising them up.

For the first time all night, Katsuki found himself at a loss for words. The carnival lights danced across the side of Deku’s face in myriad, swirling colors. His eyes downcast, lashes heavy as he gazed down below. Katsuki had long accepted that Deku was cute, but now he found him beautiful.

“When I applied for Gang Orca’s agency,” Deku began, unprompted, his voice low. “Everyone apparently advised him not to hire me.”

Katsuki’s skin prickled. “What?” he hissed.

Green eyes kept steady out over the sea of color as their car crested the highest point. “I didn’t find out until after I got the job. But everyone: the other sidekicks, interns, PR. They all thought I’d be bad for his image.” Deku shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just not intimidating, and I’m really short.”

“Deku, that’s bullshit.” Katsuki’s adrenaline had spiked defensively, looking for an adversary that just wasn’t there. There were tons of short heroes! And as loathe as Katsuki might have been to publicly admit it, Deku was incredibly strong, a whip-smart tactician and a skilled fighter. A formidable opponent.

The ferris wheel began to rotate them back down.

“Maybe. Gang Orca did still bring me on. But he also still sanctions everything that can be done to, ah, prevent me from damaging his reputation. Hence the camera tricks and the magazines.”

Katsuki’s chest felt tight and his hands balled into fists. He was going to punch a fucking whale.

Deku turned back to face Katsuki as their car dipped low and began its second ascent, his eyes shining, mouth smiling. “So, I just want to say, th-thank you, because you’re the first one who’s acted like my size isn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s not a fucking act, Deku,” Katsuki tried to snarl, but it came out soft. “Christ. You’re not even that short, you’re just tiny compared to me.”

“Hah,” Deku barked out a wet laugh, scrubbing at his face. “Still. I had a really nice time tonight, Kacchan. Thanks for coming out with me.”

Katsuki’s mouth hung open, caught somewhere between an expletive and a confession.

They hit the apex of the wheel again, and the cars stopped. Deku looked back out over the fair, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Wow, we’re so high up. Is this what it’s like to be you all the time, Kacchan?”

Katsuki grinned. “Cheeky shit,” he muttered, reaching across the car, hooking his hand under Deku’s elbow and yanking him forward.

“Kacchan!” Deku shrieked as he tumbled into Katsuki and the car tipped, their combined weight rocking them dangerously to one side. “We can't— What are you—”

Surging forward, Katsuki pushed them to the center on top of the bear, sinking his knee into the plush fabric with Deku wrapped in his arms. The cabin righted itself pendulously as they stared at each other, the air between them silent save for the mechanical creaking and their heavy breathing. Their faces were close, much closer than their height difference usually allowed. Glittering green eyes blinked back at him.

“Wanna kiss you, Deku,” Katsuki said quietly.

Deku swallowed. “M-me too,” he breathed.

Katsuki leaned forward.

“Wait!” Deku said sharply, and Katsuki couldn't help the frown that tugged his features down. Deku twisted in the arms around him, reaching out to grab at the bear staring dead-eyed between them. He wriggled it out from under Katsuki’s knee and turned it around, before settling back onto his lap.

“He, um. Doesn’t get to watch.”

Katsuki’s face split into a crooked smile. “Bet he’d like that, though.”

“Kacchan,” Deku huffed. “Kiss me.”

Katsuki didn't need to be told twice.

He brought a hand up to thread through soft curls, the motion gentle and slow in sharp contrast to the rush that brought their lips to meet in the middle like a crack of lightning. Or fireworks.

Because literal fireworks were going off around them.

“Wow,” Deku gasped, sugar-sweet breath against Katsuki’s lips.

Their bodies pressed flush together, grabbing, groping, greedy. It was heady and overwhelming and Katsuki wanted more.

The cars started to move again, beginning their final descent.

“Come home with me,” Katsuki said abruptly, low and desperate.

“Yeah?” Deku’s voice wasn't any better off. The fireworks painted his starry cheeks in flashes of red and gold; his pupils swallowed nearly all of the green with black.

He was gorgeous.

“Yeah.”

And Katsuki drew their mouths back together as the wheel brought them back to earth.

Chapter Text

Izuku was very nervous.

Not because his date with Kacchan might crash and burn into a platonic or prank-based disaster - at least, not anymore. No, beyond all reason Izuku had somehow stumbled his way through the best night of his life that ended in the most perfect kiss with the most perfect person on top of the world.

But now Izuku was very nervous as to what came next.

Were the vibrations softly humming along his skin just from the crickets that surrounded them as they walked in silence back to Kacchan’s apartment? Or was the trepidation brimming inside Izuku spilling out through his pores?

Izuku was sure if Kacchan wasn’t holding his hand, his knees would have given out several blocks ago.

He bit down on his lip to muffle an undignified squeal. Kacchan was holding his hand! They had been holding hands almost all night, like a real couple! Which made Izuku unbelievably, deliriously happy. But simmering under the joy alongside his nerves was the worry, the fear about what exactly that meant. 

Was this headed where he thought it was headed? Were they going to.. Sleep together?

..Was Izuku going to spend the night?

And what would they be tomorrow?

“You’re gonna bite right through your lip at this rate, dumbass.” Kacchan’s growl pulled Izuku out of his spiral, along with a thumb brushing along the lip Izuku had been doggedly chewing. They had stopped walking, and Izuku hadn’t even noticed.

They were also standing right outside Kacchan’s door.

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat as Kacchan continued to gently stroke across his lower lip, slowly, curiously; red eyes glinting intently in the lamplight far above. That thumb stilled for a moment before pushing forward, caught lightly between Izuku’s teeth. Tentatively, Izuku pressed his tongue against it. Kacchan bit his own lip.

Kacchan huffed, withdrawing his thumb, tugging down Izuku’s lip until it slipped free.

Izuku licked after the lingering taste, heart beating against his ribs. He swallowed.

“Fuck, Deku, get up here,” Kacchan said hoarsely, before dropping down on Izuku in a flash, grabbing the backs of his thighs and hiking him skyward. Izuku yelped, scrabbling at strong shoulders to attempt to maintain his balance before his back met Kacchan’s door with a thud. Without thinking, his legs locked tight around Kacchan’s waist.

“Kacch,” Izuku gasped, before he was silenced by Kacchan’s burning hot lips.

The Shouto bear had been discarded in the scuffle.

The kiss on the ferris wheel hadn’t been soft or slow, but it might as well have been glacial compared to the frantic one against the door.

Izuku felt as if he were being devoured.

Kacchan moved down to paint his neck with what would surely be bruises, and Izuku’s head began to spin, panting in a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of breath as he was eaten alive. He felt himself growing hard against Kacchan’s washboard stomach; with a jolt he realized they were still standing outside the apartment.

“Ka, Kacchan,” he said breathlessly. “Inside, inside!”

Kacchan chuckled against Izuku’s skin, breath puffing hot on the dampness he had left there. “Getting a little ahead of ourselves, are we?”

Izuku sputtered, but Kacchan didn’t give him time to stew in his mortification. He hoisted Izuku into one arm, before fishing out his keys and pushing into his dark apartment, kicking the bear inside ahead of them.

He held Izuku up the entire time. 

Izuku couldn’t help it. He swooned.

“So strong, Kacchan!”

“Like it takes much to carry you. Tiny little thing.” Kacchan stepped out of his shoes before ripping Izuku’s right off his feet, not letting him down for a moment.

Izuku squawked as he was abruptly tossed onto the couch, bouncing on his butt. But before Kacchan could follow him down, Izuku bolted upright, hopping away from the furniture; thrumming with energy and nerves and excitement and arousal. “B-but how strong are you, really?”

Kacchan raised an eyebrow at him, just visible in the soft moon and street lights filtering in through the blinds. “Deku, as tempting as that is, I’m not going to fight you in my fucking living room. I like this place.”

Izuku clenched and unclenched his fists, pulsing on the balls of his feet. This was risky - did this count as kink negotiation? Was Izuku jumping ten steps ahead, as he always did? But it was his biggest fantasy, and if this was a one-night-only deal, Izuku could not afford to pass it up.

“If— If you want me,” Izuku stuttered out, his confidence flagging. He balled his fists to steel his nerves. “Come and take me.”

Both of Kacchan’s eyebrows shot straight up. But his moment of surprise quickly morphed into something wicked. He took a step forward, looming over Izuku. God, but he was so fucking huge.

Izuku stood his ground.

Like a viper, Kacchan struck, snagging one of Izuku’s wrists in a vice-like grip. Izuku deflected the grab for his other hand, but Kacchan swept out his knee at the same time and with a hard whump, Izuku met the floor. With Kacchan’s hand cradling the back of his skull.

Kacchan pressed his broad chest down, pinning Izuku to the carpet, their heartbeats hammering against one another. He leaned down to rumble in Izuku’s ear, “You didn’t even try.”

Izuku bit his lip to suppress the moan that wanted to accompany the full body shiver rippling out from those words. “I wanted you to win,” he said quietly.

“Fuck you,” Kacchan hissed, grinding his hips down, and this time Izuku did moan. Kacchan swallowed it with his mouth, pressing their lips and their bodies flush together. Izuku tried to wrap his arms around that huge, heavily muscled back, but Kacchan released his head in favor of capturing both of Izuku’s wrists and nailing them to the floor. “Think I need you to pull your punches? Think you can get away with underestimating me, hah?”

No, Izuku wanted to reply, but Kacchan had stolen his words once more, sealing their mouths together as he bucked his hips down again. And again and again, mercilessly driving Izuku’s arousal to its breaking point as something huge and hard rubbed against Izuku through their layers of clothing. Holy hell but if it was anywhere as big as it felt, Izuku was going to die.

“Kacchan!” he gasped, in a rare moment of mouth freedom, struggling halfheartedly against the large body on top of him as the static in his skin and the heat in his groin reached their peak. “If you keep, I’m gonna, hah, I’m gonna come!”

“Then come, shitty nerd,” Kacchan absolutely growled, thrusting down hard against Izuku’s still-clothed crotch until Izuku cried out, Kacchan’s name and mouth on his lips, his muscles contracting and a wet warmth rapidly spreading out as he orgasmed, hard. Kacchan slowed his pace to a gentle rocking, working Izuku through the aftershocks. Beyond their shoes they hadn’t taken a single piece of clothing off.

Something that Kacchan was keen to rectify, finally freeing the hands in his grip to strip off Izuku’s jacket and shirt as he panted beneath him, coming down from the high that had burst through him moments before. Bare-chested, with Kacchan looming above him, Izuku suddenly felt small and self-conscious - despite what they had just been doing. But Kacchan looked down at him with something akin to reverence, dragging his huge hands across Izuku’s torso slowly, gently.

“Shit, look at you,” he whispered. “So cute and perfect. I’m going to ruin you, Deku.”

Izuku’s dick immediately jumped at that, already starting to come back to life after expending itself in his pants. He wrapped his hands around Kacchan’s thick wrists as they moved to his nipples, the tiniest hint of panic and nerves blossoming again. “Kacchan, wait, I— I’ve never—”

Red eyes grew wide for only a moment before narrowing to slits. Kacchan grinned, pinching both of Izuku’s nipples harshly, eliciting a startled cry from their owner. “I think you just did, nerd.”

Izuku moaned, bucking his hips up into Kacchan, who was still sporting an absurd hardness between his legs. The twisting, flicking and pulling assault on Izuku’s chest was quickly dragging him right back to full attention.

“Do you want me to stop?” Kacchan asked, soft and gruff, and Izuku’s heart melted.

“No,” Izuku admitted. He wanted to be ruined.

“Good,” Kacchan said, leaning down to pepper kisses along Izuku’s neck down to his chest, where he took one nipple between his teeth. Izuku whimpered. He felt that hot length grind down on him again, and was suddenly aware at how quickly he was on track to outpace Kacchan in orgasm count.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said breathlessly. “Can I see you too?”

With a low chuckle, Kacchan drew back until he was kneeling upright with his legs braced on either side of Izuku’s hips. Smirking, he peeled off his sweatshirt and top, one after the other, torturously slow. That such a stone-cut, giant statue of a man hid his perfect chest and arms under clothing was a tragedy for everyone else on this planet. That it was even possible to contain his sheer bulk was a marvel of modern textile construction. Kacchan flexed, preening. First his arms, then this abs, then he flexed each pectoral individually. Izuku’s mouth watered.

But Kacchan didn’t stop there. Long, thick fingers moved to undo the zipper that barely held back the massive beast straining against the fabric of his pants. When it was released, struggling to stand tall under its own weight, Izuku’s heart stopped.

He was going to get fucked to death.

And yet, like a moth drawn to its own demise in a candle’s flickering light, Izuku pushed himself upright, slipping his legs out from under Kacchan to kneel before him like an altar.

Izuku licked his lips, suddenly dry but still tasting faintly of Kacchan. It wasn’t enough. 

“Can I.. taste you?”

Kacchan groaned, his cock visibly twitching. “Fuck, Deku, after your stunt with the goddamn corn dog you’d better.” But Kacchan pushed away instead, standing up with a lewd bob. He backed over to the couch, dropped himself down onto it heavily and threw both elbows over the backrest. He didn’t even need to stretch to reach. And the couch was not a small piece of furniture.

With a nod down to his exposed erection, Kacchan snickered. “Knock yourself out.”

Izuku stumbled forward with no further bidding needed. He settled himself on his knees between Kacchan’s, staring down at the object of his wet dreams like it was the holy grail itself. He’d never done anything like this before! But Izuku wasn’t about to back down now.

Although..

Raising his shaking hands above and past their target, he placed both flat on Kacchan’s broad pectorals. His plush, perfect pecs. Izuku licked his lips. “Wow,” he said breathlessly. His hands could not contain them. “You’re literally perfect, you know that?”

The muscles tensed under his touch.

“Tch,” Kacchan muttered, his face flaring pink. “Of— of fucking course I am! Get on with it, before I do it for you!” 

Bringing both hands to his own mouth, Izuku hurriedly shoved as many fingers as he could inside.

Kacchan made a strangled sound.

Emboldened, Izuku wet his fingers quickly, drawing them back out without mind to the long string of saliva they dragged with them. With one last internal Plus Ultra, Izuku wrapped both hands around Kacchan’s thick cock, for one hand was woefully insufficient.

“Shiiiit,” Kacchan hissed, digging his fingers into the couch leather.

Starting slowly, Izuku began pumping up and down, relishing the hefty weight - and the hefty trust Kacchan had placed in him to hold him so. This was straightforward enough; it was, technically, just like working his own penis. Except much bigger. God, so much bigger.

He swiped his thumb across the head, through the slit and the precum welled up there. Kacchan’s hips twitched up at the touch, his head snapping back with a restrained grunt. Izuku dipped forward, tentatively extending his tongue to repeat the same pattern.

“Fuck!”

Izuku looked up at Kacchan, but his face was hidden from him back against the couch. Well, that wouldn’t do.

“Kacchan,” Izuku puffed out, breathing hot against the tip. “Eyes on me.”

With a groan, Kacchan rolled his face back into view. His flawless, beautiful face, flushed red and scrunched up in what Izuku hoped was pleasure. “Stop being such a fucking tease, you little shit,” he spat. But he didn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounded happy, and Izuku’s heart fluttered.

Izuku bobbed forward again, kissing the head before opening his mouth wide and descending. Kacchan outright moaned as Izuku’s mouth enveloped him, lips stretched taut around its girth. Izuku kept his eyes up, watching Kacchan through tears collecting in his lashes and curls falling over his forehead. He sank down, slowing feeding as much of that enormous, gorgeous cock in as he was able, jaw twinging as it was pushed further open. He brought one hand down to cup Kacchan’s balls, noting that these, too, were not small. They sat heavy in his palm. 

Kacchan brought his hands down to Izuku’s hair, brushing aside the curtain obstructing his view. He was panting, eyes locked on the scene below him. “You look good like this. With your mouth stuffed full of cock.” 

Izuku’s own dick pulsed violently in his pants.

Pulling off with a lewd slurp, Izuku licked his lips as he caught his breath. “Just yours, I hope,” he said before diving back down for more, trying to get even more into his mouth, twisting and pumping with his hand what he couldn’t fit. It was hard to do much of anything regarding technique with his mouth so full, even if Izuku had any experience to speak of. But he gamely moved his tongue as much as he was able, sucking in his cheeks and then swallowing when Kacchan’s dick hit the back of his throat.

“Of course just mine, you— Ah, fuck, Deku!” Kacchan’s hips jumped, shoving his thick length well past where Izuku had comfortably gotten it, fingers tightening in green curls as Izuku fought against his throat muscles contracting. Tears had been budding in his eyes but they welled up considerably as he got his throat suddenly, mercilessly fucked. Did he.. not have a gag reflex? It really seemed physically, scientifically impossible that this was actually happening right now.

Bracing his hands on either side of Kacchan’s thick thighs, Izuku gave up his attempt at a novice blowjob, just letting himself be taken for the ride and used as Kacchan saw fit. It was all Izuku could do to stop One For All from activating in self-defense when that enormous cock pummeled his throat, punching in and dragging out over and over until the grips in his hair twisted, shoving him down flush to Kacchan’s pubic bone with a strangled gurgle.

Hot liquid exploded in his mouth and he finally gagged, spluttering as he tried to swallow around the cock stuffed in his throat. It was salty and sudden and suffocating but not wholly unwelcome - it was his goal, after all.

Wobbly on his knees, Izuku fell back on his butt, coughing as he slipped free. He must not have looked particularly sexy; sitting on the floor in sodden, tented pants, face covered in spit and cum. But when he looked up, Kacchan was still looking at him like he was a four course meal.

“Shit, Deku, sorry,” he panted, huge chest heaving as he recovered. “I got carried away.”

“No,” Izuku tried to protest, but his voice was hoarse; wrecked. He shook his head, feeling his face heat up as he licked it clean. “I, um. I liked it.”

Kacchan snorted, one half of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “Masochist.”

Izuku flushed hotter. He ran his hands up and down his bare arms, nerves and anxiety returning. His eyes flicked to the door. Was that it? They both got off once. Should he excuse himself?

Red eyes followed Izuku’s line of sight before snapping back down. “You’re insane if you think I’m anywhere near done with you,” he growled, springing off of the couch with surprising speed to crouch in front of Izuku, his softening cock still hanging out. He snapped a hand out to cup Izuku’s hardness through his pants, and Izuku squeaked. “Besides, we’ll need to do something about this, hm?”

“Kacchan!” Izuku gasped, wrapping his arms around his face.

“What, you’re shy now? After you just had my dick down your throat?”

Izuku groaned into his elbows. But his hidden face only allowed Kacchan to more easily grab him, hoisting him up into the air and over his shoulder as he stood. Kacchan strode off down the dark hallway, the prize Shouto bear left by the door as he carried Izuku away like a trophy.

He placed one large, hot hand on Izuku’s backside, fingers quickly digging between his cheeks to rub insistently at his asshole. Izuku stopped breathing.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you, Deku.”

Like being tossed onto the couch, Kacchan similarly deposited Izuku onto his bed, making short work of ridding them both of their remaining clothing. Izuku winced as his soiled boxers were peeled away, allowing his erection to spring free. He didn’t have another pair of clothes, and he very much so doubted anything of Kacchan’s would fit him. Maybe if he still had stuff from high school..

“Oi, get out of your head,” Kacchan snarled, abruptly flipping Izuku onto his stomach. Those huge hands immediately caressed the swell of his rear, and Kacchan groaned appreciatively. “Fuck, this is the most perfect ass I've ever seen.”

Izuku’s face burned. “Wh-what?!” he squeaked.

“Mn, yeah,” Kacchan said, long and drawn out, as he continued to fondle Izuku’s cheeks. If Izuku hadn’t already been hard before, he sure as hell was now. Each time those fingers swiped a little closer to their inevitable endpoint, Izuku’s entire back-half twitched. His dick was no exception.

His heart began to beat faster as Kacchan grabbed Izuku’s hips and dragged them up into the air. Izuku shakily pushed himself onto his hands. He couldn’t deny he loved being manhandled, but.. Oh, god, was he about to get fucked? Did Kacchan know what he was doing? Did he have lube? He needed lube, there was just no way— 

“Of course I have lube, dumbass.”

Kacchan draped himself over Izuku’s back, completely covering him, hot skin pressed against hot skin. His hardening length slipped between the cleft of Izuku’s ass, and his hands smoothed their way up and past Izuku’s stomach until they found his nipples. Beginning to slowly rock Izuku beneath him as he teased the buds to full hardness, Kacchan stamped a necklace of kisses across his shoulders. It was so many sensations at once, so fast, lighting up every nerve ending and flooding Izuku’s synapses with too many signals.

Izuku whimpered, his cock bobbing against his stomach. Kacchan smothering him - touching him everywhere - was amazing and overwhelming, and he already felt like he was going to explode and Kacchan hadn’t even done anything yet.

Soft lips brushed against Izuku’s ear, and he shuddered.

“Can’t wait to get inside you,” Kacchan purred. “Gonna fill you up just right. Gonna split you open on my cock. Would you like that, huh? De-ku?”

“Yes,” Izuku practically sobbed as his nipples were tugged. He felt so hot, so good, so small and safe bracketed under the large man above him.

“Tell me what you want,” Kacchan demanded, rocking his huge, hard cock against Izuku’s backside.

Izuku’s head felt hazy, and his mouth hung open. Had Kacchan asked a question?

“I said tell me what you want, nerd.” 

The crushing heat over his back disappeared. A sharp smack sounded on one asscheek, not quite enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. Still, Izuku moaned. Kacchan’s hands were so big, any marks he left behind would cover him completely.

Kacchan chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me,” he said darkly, before slapping Izuku’s other cheek. “Tell. Me. What. You. Want!” He punctuated each word with a spank.

“Fuck me!” Izuku choked out, trembling. “I want Kacchan to fuck me with his giant cock!”

“Fuck yes,” Kacchan groaned, shoving Izuku’s shoulders down until his arms collapsed, face pressed into the pillows and ass presented high in the air. Izuku heard Kacchan rummage around in his bedside table.

Izuku’s heart thundered in anticipation.

The snap of a plastic cap punched through the silence like a gunshot. Izuku didn’t have to wait long before something slick was touched to his waiting hole, considerately warmed between Kacchan’s hot fingers.

Izuku hugged the pillow to his face as Kacchan lightly dragged the lubricant across his rim a few times, then slowly pushed in. Izuku whined, arching his back.

“Fuck, look at you, sucking me in. You sure no one’s done this to you before?”

“No one!” Izuku gasped, as Kacchan slid his finger out before pressing right back inside.

“They missed their chance, then,” Kacchan hummed, slipping a second finger in beside the first. He curled them down and Izuku jolted, nearly rocketing forward right off of Kacchan. “Ain’t no one else getting in here now.”

“Kacchan, wha,” Izuku breathed, before his prostate was hit again with laser focus. He cried out as pleasure bloomed and rolled from the point of impact, and Izuku felt himself melt back onto those fingers as they stroked that magical spot.

If Kacchan kept doing that, Izuku was not going to last, and he wasn’t sure he had a third orgasm waiting in the wings. And he did not want to burn out before getting the real prize inside him where he really wanted it, now that it was so close.

“Please, Kacchan, please,” Izuku gasped. “I, I’m ready!”

Kacchan chuckled darkly, wrapping his free hand around the base of Izuku’s cock and squeezing, eliciting a strangled moan as he continued to leisurely work his fingers in and out. He wriggled a third in alongside the first two. “You’re nowhere near ready. Sounds like someone needs to learn some patience.”

Writhing, Izuku thrashed his head as another moan slid out of him, but it didn’t slow his speech. “P-patience, I have, hah, plenty of patience. Do you knoohhh how long I hah, had to wait for a quirk?”

“Smartass. How many people can you make that joke to while you fuck yourself on their fingers, hah?”

Despite the vulgarity, and the fingers stuffed in his ass, Izuku smiled fondly back over his shoulder.

“Only you, Kacchan.”

And Kacchan growled.

“Fuck, I can’t wait,” he said, his fingers slipping out, only to be replaced with what Izuku logically knew was the head of Kacchan’s cock. He logically knew that, but it felt like Kacchan had just pressed something the size of a grapefruit against him. “You can take it though, can’t ya, Deku?”

Izuku swallowed. He had to trust that Kacchan knew what he was doing, and wasn’t going to murder him with his monster penis.

But he really, really wanted this, and if it killed him—  Well. What a way to go.

Kacchan pressed forward, and Izuku stifled his groan into the pillow. Even just the tip felt like it was splitting him open! But Kacchan was surprisingly slow and gentle, pulling back every time it almost started to hurt. He could feel himself opening up, little by little, until the head finally popped through. Kacchan held there, letting Izuku adjust - as much as he was able. It burned, Izuku couldn’t deny that. But maybe he was a masochist after all.

It was too much and not enough. “More,” Izuku whimpered, his thighs beginning to tremble.

“Oh I’ve got more for you, alright,” Kacchan said, voice low and husky. Izuku felt as if every organ in his abdomen was pushed aside to make room for the massive intrusion as it inched forward, only to retreat to his entrance as soon as it made any headway. Kacchan was being just as careful feeding his length in as he had been with the tip.

The sheer size of it meant it grazed over Izuku’s prostate on every push in, sending white hot bursts of tingling warmth and pleasure coursing through him; his toes curling in the sheets.

Soon enough the careful, considerate pace became agonizing. Each time Izuku filled up just a little, he was emptied. Each time he started to lean into that wonderful, full feeling, Kacchan took it away.

And anytime he tried to touch his own aching, weeping dick, Kacchan slapped his hand aside.

Tears dampened the pillow under him as he vented his frustration, finally rocking back his hips impatiently to meet flush against Kacchan with a slap. Their simultaneous moans rose together.

“Deku, shit. Fuck. You feel amazing,” Kacchan praised. He stopped his withdrawing pattern to remain fully seated inside of Izuku, stretching him, stuffing him. He leaned over to pepper kisses and bites all over his back, rubbing his hands along every exposed inch of skin - which was all of it. They smoothed down to his stomach, over a swell that was not usually there.

Izuku squirmed under him. “S-so full, Ka, Kacchan, ah, so big, so full,” he panted. Kacchan was at least as big as the orange dildo, if not bigger! And Izuku hadn’t even attempted that one. Now he was plugged up with Kacchan and the glorious feeling was indescribable.

“Mmm,” Kacchan rumbled into Izuku‘s ear. “If I thought your lips looked good around my cock it’s nothing compared to having your pretty ass stretched around me.” 

“Please,” Izuku begged, unsure of what he was even asking for.

But Kacchan responded anyway, drawing back, dragging his long, thick length out halfway before slamming forward, snapping his hips against Izuku’s thighs with another audible slap, and a shout was punched from Izuku’s lungs like the cock itself had physically done it.

From there Kacchan began to pick up the pace, wrapping his enormous hands completely around Izuku’s waist and ramming into him over and over, his heavy balls swinging against Izuku with every thrust. It was all Izuku could do to not go flying into the headboard. Not that he’d never been slammed through a sheet of wood, but he’d really prefer to keep that to villain fights and out of the bedroom.

Soon enough Izuku was a blubbering, moaning mess beneath the behemoth above him currently stretching him wide open on his massive length. It was so, so big, Izuku felt like he was being hollowed out, reshaped and molded to fit Kacchan’s giant, perfect cock.

Kacchan began raining down filth, every word from his lips only serving to drive Izuku further up the wall.

“Yeah, take it, Deku, fuck. You like this, hah? Like how I’ve fucked you open on my fat cock, stuffed you like a turkey? Don’t know how I even fit in this tight ass, but I guess you were just made for it. Made for taking cock, my cock, only my cock, shit. Gonna fill you up, shitty nerd, pump you so full of cum you’ll be swollen with it, your tiny stomach stretched round and full, fuck, shit!”

Abruptly, Kacchan pulled out and rolled, flipping their positions. Izuku found himself kneeling over Kacchan, swaying, staring down at Kacchan’s flushed face in a haze. 

“Wanna see that cute face when you come screaming on my cock,” Kacchan snarled, before pulling Izuku’s hips down and roughly impaling him on that impossibly wide heat.

”Kacchan!” Izuku cried out, as he was bucked up into, raised and lowered and fucked up and down. He was vaguely aware it was a riding position where he should be doing the work, but Izuku controlled none of it, bounced relentlessly on Kacchan's lap as he watched his own stomach bulge with each thrust.

Izuku wanted to touch it, to place his palm flat over the distention and feel Kacchan’s cock pushing through, but his wrists were seized in Kacchan’s brutal grip for leverage and Izuku just about saw stars with how hard he was being railed.

Everything coiled tight inside him, one final crescendo, and it was all Izuku could do to moan out one last plea for mercy in a mangled, “Kacch, I’m! Ple— please! I’m!”

Kacchan dropped one of Izuku’s wrists to wrap his hot hand around the entirety of Izuku’s flailing erection, giving it one, two, three pumps before Izuku came, unraveling with a scream as his world went white and he sprayed all over Kacchan’s amazing, glistening chest.

Suddenly, he was flying, weightless - held in the air by thick, strong arms under his thighs, still impaled as Kacchan stood up out of bed. Izuku wrapped his arms around Kacchan’s neck and hung on for dear life as he was pounded up into. He cried out with each thrust, oversensitive and overstimulated, teardrops flinging from his lashes like rain.

Hot fingers dug into Izuku’s flesh hard enough to bruise, holding him prisoner on that cock until it shot a bursting wet heat up through his abdomen. Izuku moaned as he was filled up, just as Kacchan had promised.

Kacchan pumped more and more cum into his insides, making small thrusts as he rode it out, covering Izuku’s face with kisses like he was mapping out each individual freckle.

And so.

Izuku had been well and truly fucked.

But, not to death.

He slumped forward against Kacchan’s hot, sticky skin. Izuku’s mind was fuzzy, his heart was full, and his ass was thoroughly wrecked.

Breathing heavily, he continued to let himself be manhandled as Kacchan slipped out of him and poured Izuku’s boneless body back onto the bed, pressing a kiss to sweaty green curls. Izuku looked back blearily, Kacchan’s cock still impressively large even as it went down.

“I can’t believe that was inside of me,” he mumbled. He could feel himself leaking out onto the sheets, still not fully closed up.

Kacchan grunted, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, and began to walk away. Izuku whined. Kacchan was taking all of the warmth with him! Also, all of the Kacchan.

“Shut it, shitty nerd, I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared into a side door for a few minutes, and Izuku heard running water. Izuku couldn’t do much else but lie there in a Deku puddle, his breathing slowly returning to normal. When Kacchan reappeared, he scooped Izuku right out of bed and carried him into the bathroom, where a bath had been drawn.

“I could have gotten up,” Izuku protested, but he wasn't quite sure he could have. He felt entirely like jelly. Also, he really, really liked being held in those big beefy arms.

“Doubtful, not with the thorough dicking I just gave you. Take a piss and then take a seat.” 

After relieving himself, Izuku crouched on the stool and was immediately set upon by Kacchan to be scrubbed down. Warm, soapy suds lathered thick on Izuku’s sticky skin, washing away all traces of their sweaty romp. He squirmed when Kacchan began to clean his own spend out of Izuku’s ass, fastidiously seeking anything Izuku hadn’t already expelled.

“Kacchan!!”

“What, you wanna sleep with that up your butt?”

Izuku stilled. Sure, he had hoped, but.. in the back of his mind, he had kind of assumed he was going to be kicked out post-coitus. That Kacchan was implying Izuku would be sleeping over warmed him more than the hot washcloth on his skin. He relented to Kacchan’s administrations.

Kacchan thoroughly, aggressively washed and rinsed Izuku’s hair before he manhandled him once again, picking Izuku up to settle him down in the bath. Izuku sighed, relaxing into the hot water after Kacchan left him in the tub to soak. This was certainly not how Izuku thought this night was going to go. A wipe of a wet towel and a shove out the door, that was the best Izuku had hoped for. Not a full spa service with shampoo. But Izuku hadn’t given Kacchan enough credit. If he really thought about it, it wasn’t surprising at all. 

Izuku wished the woodsy scent could linger forever so he could always smell a little like Kacchan and this bizarre, wonderful night. Maybe I can just buy the same brand. Is that weird?

He let his eyes flutter shut as Kacchan bustled about.

“Oi,” Kacchan barked, as softly as he was probably capable, jolting Izuku out of his doze. Without ceremony he hauled Izuku out of the water, toweled him down and shoved a bottle of water into his face. “Drink.”

Izuku just wanted to go to sleep, but the stern red eyes above him told him there was no room for argument. He obediently drained the water. When it was empty, Kacchan whisked him away to bed, where the sheets had been exchanged for a clean set.

“Kacchan didn’t have to,” Izuku mumbled through a yawn as he was dropped naked into the puddle of silk.

“Too late, Kacchan already did.”

Kacchan crawled into the bed, drawing the blankets up to drape over them both. He wrapped his arms around Izuku and tucked him securely against his chest. Izuku nuzzled back against the large mass of muscles caging him in.

They fit like two puzzle pieces carved expressly for one another, having finally slot together after a lifetime sitting inches apart.

“..Why am I not the big spoon?”

Snorting in place of answering, Kacchan pressed a kiss to the top of Izuku’s head.

“Goodnight, nerd.”

Izuku was already asleep.

 


 

Sunlight slashed through the gap in Kacchan’s curtains, warming on Izuku’s eyes insistently until he rolled away from it in annoyance. Right onto the other side of the bed. The empty side of the bed.

With a jolt, Izuku sat up, immediately regretting it when a sharp pain shot up his spine from his backside. It matched the soreness in his jaw and Izuku winced, rubbing his eyes. He looked blearily around the room. When he didn’t see anyone, he began to panic - until it dawned on him that this was Kacchan’s apartment. At the same time, the delicious smell of food cooking wafted in through the cracked bedroom door.

Gingerly pulling himself out of bed, Izuku cast around for his clothes, but the floor was free from any discarded garments. Frowning, Izuku chewed on his lip. He couldn’t just walk out naked, could he? He wobbled over to what he assumed must be Kacchan’s clothing drawers, quietly easing one open and fishing out a shirt. He pressed it to his face, inhaling the clean scent of Kacchan’s laundry detergent and a faint hint of that sugary sweat that never really washed out.

He pulled it over his head as he limped out the door.

In the relative dark, Izuku hadn’t been able to make out much of what Kacchan’s apartment looked like. In the early sun, it was breathtaking. Very spacious for just one person, open and airy, tastefully decorated with accents of dark leather and deep cherry wood that contrasted pleasantly with modern steel and bright stone. It was gorgeous and strong with a dangerous undertone, just like Kacchan.

Kacchan who stood at the stove wearing only black sweatpants and an orange apron.

Izuku’s heart swelled at the sight, and he smiled through the sleep still weighing heavy on him. He blinked it away when he noticed the copious scratches scattered across Kacchan’s bare neck and shoulders. Had Kacchan been in a bad fight recently?

Red eyes glanced back as Izuku padded into the kitchen.

“You know, breakfast isn’t a formal affair, you didn’t have to wear a dress.”

Cheeks warming, Izuku twisted the hem of his borrowed shirt, perhaps normal-sized for Kacchan but hitting low on Izuku’s thighs. Undeterred, he sidled up behind Kacchan, wrapping his arms around his waist and popping his head out under Kacchan’s left elbow to get a better look at what was cooking.

“Good morning, Kacchan,” he mumbled hoarsely through a yawn. His voice was breathy and squeaky for some completely unknown reason. “Smells amazing.”

Izuku wondered if he was pushing his luck. It had felt so natural, so right - but was it too much? Too sappy, too domestic?

But Kacchan brought his arm back around Izuku, holding him tight to his side by the shoulder while he continued to flip strips of bacon with a pair of tongs. “Morning, nerd. If you want coffee, there’s some in the french press.”

“So fancy, Kacchan,” Izuku teased, slipping out of Kacchan’s arm to help himself to a cup.

Kacchan snorted. “It’s just hot water and grounds in a jar. It’s arguably less fancy than a regular machine.”

“Still,” Izuku said, “It sounds fancy.” He poured the hot liquid into a mug that had been set next to the press. A green mug. He wrapped his hands around it and toddled over to the breakfast bar, hoisting himself up onto a stool with some difficulty. After trying to get comfortable in a few positions, he settled with sliding forward so his weight was on the backs of his thighs. He looked up to see Kacchan grinning at him.

“What’s the matter, Deku? You’re walking funny, and you can’t sit right. Sound funny, too.”

Izuku could tell by the heat in his face he was bright red. He chose to drink his coffee instead of responding.

Kacchan threw his head back and roared with laughter, and despite his embarrassment Izuku found himself chuckling, too.

Two plates full of food in hand, Kacchan came over to the bar, still smirking. Izuku bit back his own smile when he saw ‘If you can’t take the heat, Get out of the kitchen,’ emblazoned across the apron in jagged black script. He wondered if Kirishima got it for him.

Kacchan slid one of the plates across the counter to land in front of Izuku. “Short stack for the short stack,” he said. Three fluffy pancakes sat framed by sunny eggs and bacon, covered in raspberries.

“I can take a full stack,” Izuku said defensively.

“Oh, I know you can,” Kacchan snickered. “But start with that. I can make more if you need it. Here, if you want any of this garbage.” He hooked a jug of syrup from the opposite side of the counter and dropped it in front of Izuku.

Izuku took it, drizzling the golden pancakes liberally. “I’m surprised you have this at all, Kacchan. Pancakes, even. It’s unlike you.” He looked over at Kacchan’s plate, jolting in surprise when he saw it only had eggs, fish and rice on it.

Kacchan looked away, avoiding eye contact as he scowled, scratching at his chin. 

“Did.. did Kacchan get this just for me?”

Kacchan merely sat down next to Izuku and began shoveling food into his face in lieu of answering. Izuku smiled, and dug in. It was delicious.

They ate in comfortable silence until all of the food was gone.

Kacchan collected their empty plates, snapping his teeth when Izuku tried to grab them first. He deposited them in the sink with a clatter. But instead of starting to wash them or just leave them for later, Kacchan stood with his back to Izuku, leaning on the counter, shoulders hunched. His fingers curled into a dish towel. Izuku shifted on his stool uncomfortably as the time stretched on.

“You should quit,” Kacchan eventually said.

Izuku felt his stomach hit the floor. After all of that, was Kacchan really telling Izuku to give him up?

“You shouldn’t work anywhere that makes you feel small. No matter how fucking short you are.”

Pressing a hand over his chest, Izuku breathed out a silent breath of relief. “Kacchan, I can’t just quit. And besides, it would just be proving them right: that I’m a bad match and shouldn’t have been hired.”

Kacchan snapped the dish towel against the counter as he whirled around. “Who gives a fuck what they think? They’re making you feel like shit, Deku.”

Izuku squirmed, keeping his eyes in the dregs of his coffee. “It’s fine, I can take it—”

The dish towel hit Izuku in the face. It fell across his coffee cup and he stared back at Kacchan, blinking.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to! Fuck, Deku. Your whole life you just let people walk all over you. Me, random assholes, Gang fucking Orca. Tear you down while you build everyone else up. One day there won’t be anything left.”

Hot tears spilled from where they had suddenly welled up, painting wet lines down Izuku’s face. His mouth opened, then snapped shut. Something had squeezed his throat shut and rendered him speechless.

“Shit.” Kacchan ran his hands through his hair before dropping them to hang at his sides, palms flexing. “I didn’t mean to— Sorry. It just pisses me off. You’re strong as fuck, you don’t need that garbage in your life anymore.”

Izuku huffed out a wet laugh, wiping away the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Wow, I.. really didn’t expect that. Especially after I practically begged you to push me around last night. Kind of seems like they’re right about me.”

Kacchan scowled. “What you do when you fuck has nothing to do with any other shit. I know you could pin me if you really wanted to.” Sharp teeth revealed themselves as the scowl morphed into a wolfish grin. “You could try, anyway. And there was no practically about it, you straight up begged me to fuck you.”

“Kacchan!” Izuku wrapped his arms around his face as he blushed furiously.

“Hm, I think it was, ‘Please fuck me with Kacchan’s enormous cock,’ or something like that.”

Dropping his head to the counter, Izuku tried to bury his face under his elbows. “Kacchan,” he moaned into them.

Strong arms enveloped Izuku from behind. Kacchan chuckled, nosing into his curls. “You said that a lot, too.”

Izuku tried to slap Kacchan away, sputtering, laughing. But Kacchan wrestled him off of the stool and spun him up into the air, just how he liked it. Kisses rained down on Izuku’s face and hair as he halfheartedly tried to squirm to avoid them.

“Tiny nerd. Tiny little fucking thing. I’m gonna put you in my pocket.”

“You’re just a behemoth, you brute,” Izuku bit back, pushing a hand into Kacchan’s cheek to block the smooch assault.

“You love it, though,” Kacchan purred, nuzzling aggressively into the palm over his face.

Izuku sighed, resting his head against one giant shoulder. “I do.”

“Not so sure Half n’ Half agrees.”

Eyebrows shooting straight up, his blood turning to ice, Izuku twisted around in Kacchan’s arms— to see the Shouto bear slumped at the entryway, head lolled dramatically to one side.

“Oh my god I thought he was here,” Izuku wheezed, clutching at his chest.

Kacchan barked. “Christ. I’m burning that thing, though.”

“Nooo!”

 


 

Six months later, long after Izuku moved on from his job and shortly after he moved in, Katsuki still has not burned the bear.

It sits right across from the Deku and Ground Zero matching pair.

 


—End—