Izuku

Silence. Pure silence despite all of the chaos that surrounded him. His day had been filled with chaotic silence, more than he was accustomed to. At least lately. Usually, with Katsuki as his boyfriend, Izuku had a hectic day. It was a fact of life when it came to his blond gremlin. But with the addition of this part time job he'd accepted from Mitsuki-san, it was even more-so. It would be simple, she said. You don't have to worry, she said. It was far from that, and that was because of all of the silence.

The shoot they were doing features a fashion line for people with disabilities. All of the articles of clothing were accessible for people with varying abilities. He thought it was awesome that the Bakugous were doing this. It would help a lot of people across Japan. They'd asked him to work the shoot the week before, and he'd agreed. The extra money would be great, especially since they were already in the thick of their summer vacation. He already had a slew of date ideas for himself and Kacchan.

So, working today should have been a perfect way to raise funds. Until his life was plunged into silence. The external devices on his hearing aids had given up on him four days earlier. They were an older set, ones he'd acquired over four years prior.

It was a Saturday night when they'd died.

He was at Kirishima and Ashido's with Katsuki for a game night. It wasn't anything different than from what they did any other weekend. The group of them were crowded in the living room, enjoying snacks and videos, board games and whatever small amount of alcohol that Izuku could tolerate these days. Kaminari had some of the tracks from his band playing in the background, much to his girlfriend's horror seeing as she was the lead singer. He liked it, though. He thought Jirou Kyouka had a really pretty voice. It was mellow and nice, even with Kaminari's wild drum solos intermixed.

He stood across from Kaminari, talking about his step dad, Toshinori – Katsuki had so graciously spilled the beans about at the very next game night following his birthday.

"So, do you like, ever ask him to dress up as All Might for the hell of it?"

Izuku laughed. "I used to when I was like, eleven, and he and my mom first started dating," he said. "These days, he only dresses up for the kids in the building on Halloween."

Kaminari pouted slightly at this. "Man, I would kill to have a dad as cool as that. Not that I don't love my dad – man's a bro, but like. Sooo cool."

"It's alright," he said with a shrug. "There were a lot of times that things got ruined because people didn't know how to leave us to our privacy."

The electric blond nodded in understanding. "Yeah. That would totally-"

And suddenly, silence. He couldn't hear anything. Not the person talking in front of him. Not the shouts of Katsuki and Kirishima as they played Smash Brothers in the background. Not the sound of Jirou's soft lyrics. Not the ringing that usually accompanied silence. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Izuku's jaw dropped, and Kaminari wrinkled his brow. He must have thought Izuku's reaction was to whatever he'd said. But.

The silence sent Izuku's other senses into overdrive. He could feel the sticky humidity in the air from the hot summer air that poured in through the windows. He could smell the sweat of his friends. The stench of alcohol reigned supreme along with greasy food. Immediately, the panic settled in. Crowded space. No sound. Alcohol. Dim lights. Fuck. He was panicking. He could feel it. His body chilled. His heart started racing. His mouth grew dry as the electric blond across from him waved a hand in front of his face only to receive no response. He couldn't control the panic, the memories of the last time he was in this sort of situation without any sound to aid him. Fuck. It reminded him of the party where- NOPE. Don't go down that slippery slope, Izuku. You're okay. You're among friends. You're safe, the voice in his head said. It was the repeating mantra he heard every time the panic threatened to overwhelm him. But it wasn't working. Katsuki is right there. You're safe. You're safe. Youresafeyouresafeyouresafe.

Strong arms encircled him from behind. Bad move. The panic grew deeper. He felt trapped. He needed to move. To get away. To have space. To be safe. He pulled away and turned to face whoever was behind him, only to see the worried, hurt red eyes of Katsuki. He could see his lips moving, but he couldn't hear him, couldn't get his mind to process whatever he was saying by reading his lips. Everything came crashing down around him. He sank to the floor, and his boyfriend crouched down in front of him. His hands tenderly brushed against his freckles, and his scent – cinnamon and spices – enveloped him.

"I-I can't hear anything," he stammered, his voice hitching. He couldn't hear himself say any of this, couldn't be sure that he was sounding intelligible with all of the panic. "A-And the silence and alcohol and heat and I started panicking and – oh god – I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Katsuki looked just as distraught as Izuku felt. He probably felt useless. Izuku was panicking, and all he could do was stare. Luckily, two of their friends knew enough to help him.

Ashido stepped forward and crouched in front of him. "Don't apologize. It's okay. Are you okay?" she signed slowly. Her movements weren't the best – they were shaky and unsure – but she got her point across.

Izuku nodded. "Usually, they beep when their battery is low. I-I didn't know the silence was coming, and when it did, I-I wasn't prepared. It reminded me of the party. All I could smell was alcohol and I didn't know what to do. I panicked. God. I'm panicking again. I-I can feel it. I'm safe. I know I'm safe. I know I am, b-but I can't help it."

Katsuki's warm hand pressed against his cheek even firmer than it had been before, drawing him away from his ramblings. He shuddered and took a deep breath.

"You charged them, right?" Ashido asked.

He nodded. "Before we left. They were at full battery. I don't know what happened."

"Well, you're with friends, so don't worry," she said.

Izuku nodded. His silence induced panic didn't put too much of a damper on the mood. They all ended up watching a movie – with subtitles of course – to make the end of the evening more relaxing. Katsuki held him close the entire time.

It wasn't until after the fact, when he'd calmed down enough, that he realized what happened. They'd died, and it was his own stupidity that led him into that panic attack. Four years was a good run, though. They'd lived through their expected lifespan, which he had to be satisfied with. If only they'd lived through the rest of that night. He was sure he could have handled it rationally then. Again, it was his own stupidity. He should have had them replaced at the beginning of the school year. His mother had tried to tell him, but he'd been stubborn. He liked the ones he had, and trips to the audiologist always gave him the worst migraines. So, he'd put it off. And now, he was paying the price. His appointment with his audiologist wasn't until later in the week. He'd suffer in silence until then.

The worst part of it all was the fact that he couldn't communicate as easily with strictly hearing people. People could still hear him. He knew spoken language well enough to articulate what he needed to, but the problem came when it was time to hear others. He'd been reduced to conversations through sign language and written language entirely. On top of that, he could count on one hand just how many people he knew - within a close proximity - that spoke and read Japanese Sign Language. That left him with two people. Ashido and Kirishima had taken their classes on sign language, but they had subpar skills at best. Still, it was an in.

These days, he was okay at reading lips. He'd been much better at it before he'd gotten his hearing aids, and in the long run, it certainly did help when he needed to communicate. But only when people spoke slowly and clearly. And many people these days spoke a mile a minute. These photographers on set obviously didn't get the memo that being deaf made it all that much harder to figure out these weird, obscure directions they were trying to give him. There was a constant flurry of moving lips and words that he couldn't hear. His mind was reeling from the sheer overwhelming force of it all.

Luckily, the Bakugous were good to him, and had hired a translator for the day.

"The next one should be the last one, Midoriya," signed his translator, a young woman with deep burgundy hair and strong, clear signs. Her name was Sōsaki Shino, but she preferred to be called Mandalay because it was 'more fun than her boring given name'.

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief at her given information. It was almost over. As much as he enjoyed participating in something artsy, he really hated the quick changes, the makeup, the heat of the lights, the sweating. He hated it. If he wasn't getting paid and getting free things out of it, if he wasn't doing this because he boyfriend's parents had requested it of him and he wanted to make a good impression, he would have left after the first shoot. It was all just too overwhelming for him. Losing one sense sent the others into sensory overload.

"Thank you," he signed back. "How long do I have until I need to be ready?"

"Twenty minutes. You could probably get away with sitting down for ten minutes before you have to go change."

He huffed out a sigh before nodding. She was on top of it at least. She wasn't going to let him be late at least. He walked back to the small seating area that was set aside for the various models, all of which had some varying form of exceptional needs. There were five models in total, including himself. There was a teenage girl with cerebral palsy who was wheelchair bound, an adult man with Downs Syndrome, a young woman with dwarfism, and a quiet teenage boy with autism. All of the people here could benefit from some sort of adaptive clothing, including himself.

The line specifically had things that allowed people to have an easier time getting dressed. It was comfortable, and specifically for him, safe. While modeling other aspects of the accessibility line, he was primarily modeling the Bakugou Masaru's new sports line which specifically had elements for the deaf and hard of hearing. It was a lot of comfortable, reflective clothing that was unobtrusive and stylish. It didn't have anything on it that screamed that he was deaf, like many things did. He was a person before his disability. He liked all of it and was pleased to be able to keep the articles that he modeled.

Still, representing the deaf and hard of hearing was difficult in photography. Someone looking at these photographs in a magazine may not know that he was deaf or hard of hearing at a first glance, so Masaru-san had asked him to wear his hearing aids when they'd scheduled the shoot a week prior. Of course, Katsuki had explained that they were dead upon their arrival at the studio that day, but Izuku was more than happy to wear them if it would help out his boyfriend's father with the debut of the clothing line.

And while he was proud to be represented in fashion in such a subtle and sensible way, he couldn't help but feel isolated from the rest of the models here. He was the only one there that was deaf. He couldn't hear anything that his fellow models were saying. As much as he appreciated Mandalay, Izuku had worked so hard to maintain some semblance of self-sufficiency. Having to resort back to reliance on others - even if it was something so understandable - sucked. He appreciated it, but it sucked.

He'd only had a few short conversations with the other models. It was nothing against them. It was just that he felt as though he lagged behind the others in conversations. Even with Mandalay's help, he found it difficult to keep up. It was so hard to participate, to interject himself fast enough into the conversations. Only one of the models knew sign language aside from himself, and he only knew enough to get some basic needs across. It wasn't anything that was substantial enough to hold a conversation.

He hated feeling so isolated. If only Katsuki were around…

Izuku heaved out another sigh as he plopped himself down on the sofa, his back turned to the set. He needed a break from it all. His interpreter sat down across from him so she could stay within his line of sight and within the line of sight of the bosses on the scene.

"How long until you get your new hearing aids?" she asked.

"My appointment with the audiologist is Friday, but I won't get them right away. Probably not for at least a week or two, not including how long it takes to get them adjusted to all of the right frequencies," he said with an exaggerated huff. Gosh, he was so spoiled by his ability to hear. "It could be a month before I'm hearing normally again."

"How long have you had them?"

"Ten years, so switching back to signing all the time is tough," he said. "Especially since I haven't integrated very well into the deaf community at my university."

She nodded in understanding. "You go to Y-U-E-I-I, right?" she asked, spelling out the last word as it likely did not have an official sign. He quickly made out the name of the school, a smile spreading on his lips.

He nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

"I went there, too. I know there's a large deaf community," she said. "Is there any reason you haven't yet?"

He sheepishly looked at the running shoes he wore. They were a lot nicer than his red sneakers. "I actually opted not to be pair with a student for my roommate. I wanted to get to know the other students at the university. I didn't want to feel isolated by only interacting with the deaf community."

She nodded.

"My boyfriend is actually a hearing person, so it's a little hard right now. He doesn't know much sign language at all yet."

She gave him a sad look. "I can't imagine."

He nodded. Not many people could, at least in his personal life. "It's a work in progress, though."

When he spoke to Katsuki, he actually used spoken language. He knew the way his lips should move. He knew how to shift his tongue to help form the sounds that were necessary for words. He could make the correct sounds without hearing himself because of the muscle memory. That made getting his needs across pretty nice. But getting responses from him was an entirely different story. He'd done his best to teach him some of the most basic signs, like the alphabet, thank you – not that he used that one very often – good morning, and good night. They focused on the little things, and where everything else failed, they relied on either their phones, paper and pen, or a white board and marker. And quite frankly, Katsuki's handwriting was some of the worst he'd ever seen, so that didn't help.

It just wasn't the same as being able to hear the blond. This was the hardest part for him, not being able to hear the gremlin's voice. He never realized just how much he'd miss it, but then again, he'd never been without it for this long before. It had only been four days, but it felt like a lifetime. He never realized he'd miss him calling him Deku or bunny or even shitty nerd. He missed his cursing and strange way of speaking and the occasional tender words that he only allowed Izuku to hear. He missed it all.

"Midoriya, I think that there's some angry guy over there looking for you. He's shouting your name and calling you an idiot," Mandalay said. And then a pause. "Okay. He's actually got a real foul mouth. I can tell him to go away if you want."

Izuku's brows shot up. Those mannerisms were distinct from only one person that he knew, someone who was supposed to be doing his own photoshoot with his mother. He turned in his seat and his viridian gaze scanned the area near the door of the studio. He located the blond easily. He was, in fact, shouting if the expression on his face and the rapid, pronounced movement of his lips said anything. Well, there were also the rude gestures, but Izuku had become so accustomed to those that he ignored them these days.

Without any warning to Mandalay, Izuku was on his feet, practically flying across the studio to the blond that was trying to find him. He was a blur of green as he flung himself at Katsuki. Strong arms caught him. He wrapped his legs around Katsuki's waist as the blond struggled to stay upright. He didn't care if he looked ridiculous. He needed Kacchan's stability right now. He was overloaded and his warm scent, strong arms, and crabby expressions just made everything better.

"You're done early?" Izuku asked, leaning back just a little bit so he could get a good look at Kacchan's face.

The blond nodded.

"How'd it go?"

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders and dug into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and quickly typed out a message.

"Boring," it read. "The old hag just wanted free labor out of me."

The greenette giggled. "Well, I'm glad you came to find me," he said. "I'm almost done. Just one more shoot."

Katsuki nodded, and like the flip of a switch, his mood changed. He flipped someone off behind him. He looked. Ah. Wardrobe was gesturing for him to come over to get him ready for the final session. He deflated slightly. It had all come so soon. He didn't want to go back to work. He'd rather stick around and hang out with Katsuki for just a little bit longer. But the sooner he got this done, the sooner he could go home with him.

"I'll be back soon," he said with a bright smile as he dropped to the ground.

Again, Katsuki nodded. Izuku stood on his toes and kissed his boyfriend briefly.

"Oh, and Kacchan?" he asked, stealing the blond's attention for himself exclusively. Katsuki raised his brows in response. Izuku fixed him with a mischievous look. "Don't take your eyes off of me."

A flash of surprise crossed his gremlin's features as he was fed that line before it was replaced with the dark look of hunger Izuku knew to associate with arousal. Katsuki licked his lips, and Izuku shot him a wink. He turned on his heel and returned to the wardrobe people to prepare for the next shoot. He made sure that as he walked, his hips swayed just a little bit more.

Katsuki

That fucking nerd was such a goddamn tease. An infuriating, sexy fucking tease.

Katsuki had been roped into a short photoshoot for the old hag for her new evening wear line. Seeing as he refused to do this shit when she had other models around, he managed to get it to where he'd be there on the same day as Deku's accessibility line by his pops. His own shoot hadn't taken long. He'd been doing this for his mom for years now, so he knew what she was looking for. He understood the flow of it all. So, he'd tried on all of the tuxes and took too many photos before he was cleared to escape.

And escape he had.

He left the hag's half of the studio to go to his pop's. Security didn't bother to stop him as he moved through the building. They all knew him by now, and if they didn't, well, they'd fuckin' find out. His pop's side of the studio was a helluva lot busier than his mom's. There were more models. More clothing changes. More photographers. More chaos. He snorted. Leave it to his old man to be the disorganized one. The hag had her side running like a well-oiled machine. Then again, his pops was quiet and timid while his mother had a set of lungs on her that rivaled his own.

A quick glance around didn't reveal that shock curly green hair that he was so familiar with. And that immediately irritated him. He just wanted to see him, to hold him, to kiss him. Yeah. He was fuckin' whipped.

He approached one of the random photographers milling by the doorway of the studio, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Oi! Where's Deku?" he asked, his voice loud and clear.

"Oh. Ah. Bakugou-san," the photographer said, immediately recognizing the fiery blond. "I don't, uh, know who you're talking about."

"Green curls. Green eyes. More freckles than skin," he said.

"Oh, uh, you, ah, mean Midoriya, right?"

"Yeah. Fuckin' Deku. Where the fuck is he?"

"I'm not sure, but, I, ah, I can find out for you, if that's what you want."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, his features hardening as his voice only got louder. God. Fuckin' people were such idiots sometimes. "I wouldn't be asking you where the fuck he was if I didn't want you to-"

Katsuki stopped mid-sentence as he suddenly had a very solid, very dense, very green man hurling himself into his arms. He barely caught the mother fucker who know had his fucking legs wrapped around his waist. He struggled to stay upright, but any anger he might have had disappeared the second he heard his voice. They hadn't even been apart very long, and he missed him already. Fuckin'. Whipped.

Their conversation was short. The studio's team pulled him away again before he could fully enjoy their time together. And Izuku made sure to make him miss him while he was gone.

How could he not rise to the challenge presented to him? Especially when his boyfriend had such an amazing ass. And thighs. And calves. And hips. Yeah. His arms were nice, too. Fuck. Everything about Izuku was fuckin' nice. Fuck his parents for having the greenette model a fuckin' sports line. When the nerd had initially walked away, he'd been wearing something that had Katsuki's mind reeling. Running shorts that hardly reached his mid thighs and a tight t-shirt with tasteful reflective accents on it. It didn't help that his boyfriend regularly waxed his legs so he didn't look like, and he quotes, 'a green sasquatch'. Sure, he was oversexualizing it, but he couldn't help but be attracted to the guy he was dating. And right now, the way he was dressed made him look positively sinful.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. The next thing that freckles modeled had even more sex appeal, which he didn't think was possible. Tight pants and a low neck tank-top. God. His mouth was fucking watering. He could already feel the horniness coming. The stiff forming beneath his jeans. Fuckin' christ. And the nerd knew exactly what he was doing. He'd told Katsuki to keep his eyes on him. But fuck, this was murder.

The modeling industry brought in people from all walks of life. He'd seen some insanely attractive people over the course of his life just because he'd been dragged to the studio when his parents needed his face for some shoot or they couldn't find him a sitter, ones he's shamelessly gotten off to as he had gotten into his teens. He'd met all four of these models here today, too. At least in passing. They were good at their jobs from what he'd heard. They got in front of the camera and knew what to do, just as he did.

He had no idea about the greenette.

As far as he knew, Deku had zero modeling experience. The most candid shots of him he'd ever seen were in Auntie Inko's old photo albums or on the greenette's social media pages. It wasn't anything spectacular either. Just simple shots of a freckled kid with way too many bruises on his knees and skinny arms. As he'd gotten into high school, his photographs included more selfies and some full-body shots. But there wasn't anything within them that would make him out to be any sort of model. The only thing he had down was the blinding smile, and that was if that could be counted considering he used it everyday. All in all, compared to the others on set, he had no experience to speak of. And from what he'd seen of his boyfriend, he didn't think that this would go over well. Not that he had anything against the shitty nerd. He honestly wanted him to be successful. He just didn't think it would happen. Deku was awkward as shit. He got flustered easily. He blushed like a fuckin' dork when Katsuki poked fun at him. He tripped over his own two feet when he walked and had more bruises on his hips and legs from running into the dorm room furniture than he could count. He wasn't model material by any fuckin' means.

Did that stop him? Fuck no.

When he'd first walked in front of the camera, he'd stood there awkwardly. He held his hands behind his back, his viridian gaze trained on his interpreter rather than the photographers who wanted to give him directions. He looked so fuckin' out of place that it made Katsuki want to look away. The only reason he didn't was because the short shit had asked him not to look away. The wait time between the photographer's directions and Deku actually doing what they asked was longer than normal. He had to wait for his interpreter to get the message.

But god fuckin' damn. Fuckin' Deku. He always had to prove him wrong, didn't he?

The second he got his directions, Freckles acted as if he'd been in front of a lens his entire life. If he wasn't turned on before, he was now. The sports leggings he wore, the tank top… He knew how to move in the clothing to accentuate all of his best features and assets. The fuckin' nerd would have well over two dozen good shots of him by the time they were done… Now, all Katsuki had to do was get his hands on a few.

Fuck. Right now, he was really trying too damn fuckin' hard to control his raging hormones. He leaned against a wall in a darker corner where no one could see him. This nerd made his life fuckin' impossible sometimes. How could he fucking not want to take the nerd right then and there? He fucking had to know what he was doing.

Deku finally walked off the set, his gaze finding Katsuki pretty immediately. Of course the nerd knew where he was the entire time. If all of those sparkling, mischievous glances from across the studio were telling fuckin' enough… One of those smiles that held way too many implications behind it was sent his way before a gesture for him to follow was given. He wasn't a lost fuckin' puppy. He wasn't just going to come at Izuku's beck and call. But, fuck, if that smile wasn't promising more… Katsuki attempted nonchalance as he shrugged his shoulders and followed after his nerd.

Katsuki pushed the greenette's back against the wall of the shower while scalding water poured down against them. He didn't care that they were in a locker room. He didn't care that literally anyone could walk in on them. The only thing on his mind was Deku. Freckled skin was pressed flush against his skin. Strong legs were wrapped around his waist. Hungry lips fought his own for dominance. Erections were pressed together. Supple ass cheeks were squeezed beneath his hands. The wonderful scent of forest and pine and rain filled his nose.

Everything was Deku.

He'd followed the nerd where he had directed, and neither had wasted a fuckin' second. Lustful glances and heady stares had quickly morphed into slopped, wet kisses and groping, wandering hands. Clothes were discarded hastily, and they stumbled into the small shower stall that he was only willing to use because of Deku. And maybe because he knew his tyrant of a mother's cleaning habits. But neither complained about the cramped space or the water that got into their eyes. They were too absorbed in one another.

There was something about this nerd that he just couldn't get enough of. Izuku was a drug, and Katsuki had very clearly become addicted.

"Kacchan," the greenette moaned into his mouth. "I want you. I need you."

Katsuki nodded against his lips just enough for Deku to notice. With that affirmation, the nerd slipped out of his arms before sinking to his knees in front of the blond. Those green eyes looked up at him, half-lidded and full of unspoken needs and desires. His hands fell to the blond's ivory hips, his lips ghosting against his erection.

"Can I?" Deku asked. His voice sounded like honey and sin.

Katsuki nodded. "Fuck yes," he moaned even though he knew he couldn't hear him.

Without any more prompting, the greenette laved a stripe of molten lava up his shaft that burned hotter than the water that rained down on their bodies. It made him stand even more erect than he had before, which he didn't think was a fuckin' possible. But then again, this was Deku. The greenette could do godly things with those lips his.

And then those very same lips circled around the tip of his cock. His hand wrapped around his base. His tip disappeared from his view completely as Deku's lips were sinking, sinking, sinking until their pink flesh connected with his own hand.

"Fuck, Deku," Katsuki's voice rumbled into the locker room.

His boyfriend took his length easily. He seemed to have no problem matching the rhythm of his hand sliding up and down his shaft. Katsuki was in fucking heaven. Deku never ceased to surprise him.

He couldn't help the shift of his hips. He thrusted once into Deku's mouth, causing the man on his knees to sputter and choke just a little bit. It felt fuckin' amazing, but he didn't want to kill the nerd. He went to brace himself against the shower wall to stop himself from moving, but Izuku's hands on hips were insistent and urging. He was trying to get Katsuki to move them again. He didn't need more than that.

Katsuki fucked into Izuku's mouth, which elicited a lewd moan that echoed with the acoustics of the locker room. The smaller man's fingers dug little crescents into the skin of his hips. A deeper, lower moan poured from his own lips, filling the space around them. His fingers threaded through Izuku's hair, tugging at those impossibly green curls. He tugged them lightly as his head rolled back and another groan tore his lips.

"Fuck, Deku," Katsuki said, his voice a low rumble. He knew the nerd couldn't hear him, but… "The shit that you can do-"

"Katsuki? Are you in there?" a familiar voice said.

The blond froze in his ministrations, even though the greenette kept fuckin' going. He felt himself go slightly boneless between those sinful lips.

"Y-Yeah, Pops," he said hoarsely through his own shock at his father walking in while they were getting it on. Thank fuck there were stalls in this locker room. And thank fuck fuckin' Deku wasn't at the height of one of those perfect fuckin' moans. "The fuck you n-need?"

He stuttered out that last word because – fuck – Deku had hit that fuckin' spot that felt too damn good. He tightened his hold on Deku's hair and pulled him off his length with a quiet pop. When those viridian eyes found his own in a confused, searching manner, Katsuki held a finger to his lips and pointed toward the outside of their little stall. His eyes widened a fraction and he nodded in understanding. Deku might have been a deku, but at least he wasn't fuckin' dense.

"Have you seen Izuku?"

"What do you think I am?" Katsuki spat even though he fuckin' knew exactly where Deku was. Not that he was gonna fuckin' tell his Pops he was getting it on in the middle of locker room. "I'm his boyfriend, not his fuckin' keeper, old man."

"Well, you'll see him back on campus, right?" Pops asked.

Katsuki nearly moaned as Izuku's lips circled around his erection one again, making it stand at full attention once more. He managed to mask his moan by turning it into a groan of frustration.

"Yeah. What do you need, old man?" he groused. "I'm tryin' to shower."

He was gonna kill this nerd. At least he would if he didn't feel so fuckin' good right now. His fiery red eyes connected with viridian green ones. He could see the glint in his eyes. This mother fucker knew exactly what he was doing. He knew Katsuki was talking to someone, and he still was taking his length down his throat in full fuckin' stride.. Fuckin' christ.

His hips set a brutal pace as he fucked into Deku's mouth again, and all the while the other kept pace. His tongue swirled around Katsuki's length, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I want you to ask him if he can come in sometime next week. I have another shoot that he could do," Pops said.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, old man," he said as nonchalantly as he could. Deku didn't make it easy.

"Thanks, Katsuki," the old man said.

He was climbing closer and closer to the edge. Izuku nearly had him there- So fuckin' close. His grip in the nerd's hair tightened, and a low, quiet, almost inaudible moan vibrated against his length. And fuck. The way Deku looked up at him with those blissed-out, glazed-over eyes of his. Fuck him straight to hell and back. He bit back a groan that would very obviously clue his father into what he was do - or rather, whose face he was fuckin'.

Katsuki saw an explosion of white as he came. All of the senses in his body were alight. Each nerve ending was hypersensitive to the way Izuku moved his mouth, his hands, his tongue around him. He felt the smaller man's throat constrict around his length as he swallowed down Katsuki's load. Fuckin' hot. This little shit was gonna make him hard all over again with actions like that. He heard Izuku slide off of his dick with a light pop as he slid down the wall of the shower until he was sitting on the floor in front of Deku, completely boneless.

The sight of the nerd was enough to get him hard again. He was a mess. His green curls were flattened across his forehead, streaming with little rivulets of water. His eyes were half-lidded as they stared back at him. His lips were slightly swollen and pink. And best of all, there was a smear of cum across his stomach.

Deku had fuckin' cum without being fuckin' touched. If that didn't give him enough energy to go for round two, he didn't know what would.

That is, until his father decided to ruin the moment.

"Oh, and Katsuki," he said.

He didn't respond. He was sure he wouldn't find his voice so soon after having his soul sucked out through his dick.

"Use a condom."