warnings: 18+, yaoi, characters are aged up
"Close," Kacchan breathed, the word nothing but a broken whisper as he bounced in Izuku's lap.
Izuku swallowed, unable to keep his eyes off of Kacchan when he reached this point. His brows were furrowed in determination, lips bitten red from Izuku's teeth and his own, a flush spreading all across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. If Izuku could cup his face, his thumb brushing over Kacchan's cheekbone would be burning. As it was, he couldn't reach, Kacchan's strong hands pressing down on Izuku's shoulders as he fucked himself on Izuku's cock.
Little huffs blew out of Kacchan's mouth on every other drop of his hips, his pace fast, angle consistently deep as he raced towards both their peaks. The squeeze on Izuku's cock had grown demandingly tight, squeezing the whole length as Kacchan's hips barely drew from Izuku's. If Izuku was right, any moment he would be—
"Fuck, Deku, I'm—"
Izuku took a hand off the dip of Kacchan's hip and wrapped it around his cock, thrilling in helping his lover over the edge. "Cum for me, Kacchan,"
Kacchan, only grit his teeth, groaning as he pushed himself to hold back, grinding a full circle on Izuku's lap in denial. No matter how he tried to hold on, though, desperate whines coiled up the back of Kacchan's throat, giving him away before inevitably spilling over Izuku's hand. His head lolled forward, his breath gasping. Izuku moved his hand back to Kacchan's hip, smearing spend across the skin, just catching a moonlit shine from the slats in the blinds.
It only took a few upward thrusts, Kacchan determinedly continuing his own rocking above, for Izuku to cum hard in his condom.
Kacchan fell bonelessly on Izuku's chest, their perspiration gluing them to each other as Izuku moved his hands from Kacchan's hips to wrap around the small of his back.
"How was that, nerd?" Kacchan breathed, his breath humid against Izuku's neck.
"You're amazing, Kacchan," Izuku replied, feeling Kacchan's heart thump in satisfaction against his own.
Kacchan was always amazing. Kacchan sugoi.
But…
Kacchan wrapped his arms around Izuku's head, his fingers threading through hot sweat at the roots of his curls.
No, there was no but. Kacchan was lying on his chest, breathing into his neck as their cocks softened against—and inside—each other. Izuku was the luckiest person in the world, as he'd told Kacchan a number of times, each to eyes rolling above an affectionate half smile that had never been there before.
He already had everything.
It had started just a few months ago. The transition from shouts to whispers, from combat to communication, and from rivals to…whatever they were. Lovers, boyfriends, partners. They'd neglected to put so fine a point on it, but PR had decided to go with "in a relationship" as the public descriptor, and that sounded nice to Izuku.
There hadn't been a big change, to be honest. Not like their friends (Izuku's mostly) might have expected. The relationship was still them, but with shine. With care.
It was little things. After a sparring session, when Kacchan would squeeze one hand (sweatless from meticulous quirk control) on Izuku's shoulder. Lingering eye contact where they'd once have furtively glanced away from each other. The privileges of being able to touch Kacchan, be inside Kacchan, love Kacchan (silently, not verbally, not yet) was a privilege.
If Izuku had a notebook about sex with Kacchan (which he didn't, he wouldn't) he would have very specific notes in it. Kacchan liked having Izuku's determined focus on him as he stretched him open, but grew impatient if Izuku was too slow. Kacchan soundly refused anal in the mornings, but would easily fool around in other way if Izuku caught him in a good mood. Kacchan was verbal, demanding, and his usually dirty mouth did things in Izuku's gut when his usual swears and curses were made through panting breaths and desperate growls.
Kacchan was always, always on top.
Their first time had been in Kacchan's bed, Izuku's back pressed against the headboard, head banging against it more times than was probably recommended from someone who'd suffered multiple concussions. Kacchan had bounced in his lap until both of them came, quickly and unceremoniously. It had been the best thing to happen to Izuku, tied with meeting All Might. Maybe just behind it. Or just in front of it. Izuku couldn't decide.
The second time had been on Kacchan's couch, dinner temporarily forgotten as Kacchan swung one knee over Izuku's lap and began grinding without preamble. Izuku had picked him up under the ass, hard dicks frotting against each other through horribly restrictive pants, and carried him to the bedroom for the sake of lube. Then they'd slotted into that same position and Kacchan had ridden Izuku till Izuku saw stars.
Kacchan was particular—Izuku knew that. It had taken weeks for Kacchan to be willing to have sex in Izuku's apartment instead of his own, and, as it was, it was something that he usually planned ahead of time (though that was for bodily purposes more than anything) and he only let Izuku in on it when he felt like it.
Izuku wanted Kacchan to be comfortable, of course. But he also wanted…he wanted.
"Hey, nerd," Kacchan said, pulling Izuku from his thoughts. He was stirring a pan of vegetables coated in a vaguely red sauce that filled the air with that tingling spice that Izuku had begun to crave. His eyes were trained on Izuku, who was sitting across the kitchen island on one of Kacchan's barstools. "You're mumbling, and you're writing in the air."
For someone so trained in body awareness, Izuku definitely should have felt his right hand in the air, elbow crooked at a ninety degree angle. His pinched fingers were inches from his eyes and he hadn't seen them. More surprisingly, he hadn't even noticed Kacchan turn towards him.
Izuku's face went pink as he lowered his hand to his lap and looked away from Kacchan's arched eyebrow. Maybe he'd been muttering too unclearly or too quietly for Kacchan to hear over the sizzling of the pan and the boiling of the noodles water on another burner. It didn't look like Kacchan had heard, otherwise his expression would probably be angrier than the relatively bored confusion he was sporting now.
"I have a notebook if you need one," he offered, brows falling to that more familiar furrow, the one that grew deeper and deeper to the point where Izuku could draw his thumb over the fine lines even when Kacchan's face was relaxed in sleep.
"No, that's okay," Izuku said quickly. He would not, would not make a sex notebook.
Kacchan turned back to the stove, catching a noodle with his chopsticks and blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. "Or we can talk about it."
"Talk about it?" Izuku echoed, his voice a little higher than he would have liked, his blush still hot on his ears.
"Whatever's on your mind," Katsuki said as he brought the pot over to the sink and drained the noodles, not losing a single one before dropping the lot of them into the skillet, stirring them with the vegetables.
"I, um, maybe later," Izuku said.
There was no keeping secrets from Kacchan. Kacchan was too perceptive and Izuku too bad a liar, plus Izuku didn't want to keep things from Kacchan anyway. He just needed a plan. He'd think it through—sans notebook—and strategize…something.
Kacchan stared him down a moment longer before reaching into the cabinet and pulling out two matching bowls. "Just as well," he said. "Dinner's ready."
Izuku could still taste the spice on Kacchan's lips as the backs of his knees hit Kacchan's bed. He allowed himself to fall back, practice landing him close to the center so that his lap was broad for Kacchan to crawl up on. Izuku could mark out Kacchan's movements beat for beat—the lifting of his right leg and then his left, seating himself squarely on Izuku's dick as he grabbed at Izuku's shirt, impatient for it to be taken off.
Automatically, Deku grabbed his tee by the back of the collar and lifted it over his head, eager for Kacchan's lips to reconnect with his. Kacchan's own shirt came off just as fast and then there was that skin on skin that always made Deku's heart beat quicker. The reminder that this was real, this was Kacchan, this was them. Kacchan wanted him. Kacchan wanted him.
(It still hadn't gotten hold. Izuku was sure it never would.)
The next thing Kacchan was set to do was unzip Izuku's pants, or dip his hand under the elastic or, once in the locker room, use his quirk to burn a hole in the thigh of his hero costume. That last one had scared the absolute daylights out of Izuku (and confused the hell out of the support staff who had to fix it), but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't turned him on a bit.
Izuku was in sweatpants today, so Kacchan reached behind and pulled Izuku's dick from under the band, pumping it up and down as he worked it up to its full glory. The mental checking of boxes could have made the act perfunctory, but Izuku's jaw still dropped, panting, head rolling back at Kacchan's ministrations. Kacchan took the opportunity to kiss Izuku's neck (as Izuku was hoping he would), and Izuku groaned into it.
Then Kacchan was reaching over to the lube and condoms conspicuously on top of the nightstand, keeping Izuku pinned the whole time. Next Kacchan would roll on the condom, maybe deal with their pants, maybe not. One of the two of them would snap open the lube and stretch Kacchan out, starting with two fingers right away before working up to four, sloppily making out until Kacchan keened. And then, once again, Kacchan would ride Izuku until they both came.
"Kacchan, wait."
"Why?" Kacchan asked as he tore the condom packet. "You're hard as fuck."
Kacchan kissed Izuku, reaching behind again as if to double check the status of Izuku's dick.
Izuku broke away with a short gasp. "I want you to let me fuck you, Kacchan."
"I'm just about to do that, shitnerd."
"No, that's not it," Izuku said. "I want to take care of you. I want you to rely on me for a change."
Kacchan pulled back, the small of his back pressing against the drooling head of Izuku's cock. His eyes were narrowed and Izuku clutched his hands in the bedding to steel himself. "This is what you were muttering about in the kitchen."
It wasn't quite a question or an accusation—Kacchan was too sure of himself for that. Izuku felt himself blush under the hot gaze, but he didn't break eye contact, looking up at Kacchan through his eyelashes. "Yes."
Kacchan looked irritated, jaw twitching as he continued glaring. But he sat back on Izuku's thighs anyway. "Talk."
"I-It's not that I'm unhappy with the way things have been going," Izuku clarified quickly, pulling a frown from Kacchan rather than anything that looked like reassurance. "And I don't want to take more than you're willing to give—I would never want that—but I think that maybe you don't have to—to be the one who's in control all the time."
It came out in one hurried breath, maybe two, the nerves wilting Izuku's erection. Meanwhile, Kacchan's expression hardened, fading into something unreadable.
"You're bored."
Izuku almost laughed, nerves loosening a notch. "I could never be bored of Kacchan. I just…can't help but be a little greedy with you."
Kacchan considered Izuku's face for a moment before sliding off his lap, feet back to the floor. "Fine, Deku, do whatever you want."
"Wait—I still don't want to do anything you don't—"
"I don't do anything I don't wanna do," Kacchan said, pushing his pants and boxers down in one go. Izuku immediately noticed that Kacchan's erection didn't seem to have gone down much from when he'd felt it pressing against his stomach, so at least Kacchan wasn't turned off by the idea. "Show me what you got, Deku."
The words sent a thrill of challenge surging through Izuku's veins, and he slipped his own remaining clothes off before grabbing Kacchan's wrists. He pulled the other man back into his lap only to flip them both, landing himself on top.
When they'd first started this, Deku had assumed that sex with Kacchan would be very much like fighting with Kacchan. Heat and speed and prowess, barely room for breath as they were set colliding into each other. It had turned out not to be at all. Sure, sometimes rounds were fast and dirty, but there wasn't that spirit of competition, that drive to be the best.
As Izuku looked into Kacchan's eyes, all fired up for the first time in a while, Izuku thought maybe that was what had been missing all along.
After all, fighting now wasn't like when they were kids, when it had been all pushing and distance. Now it was when they understood each other best. When they could read each other move for move and match each other as equals.
Their lips caught in a searing kiss, and any softening Izuku had undergone during his speech was undone in moments, his cock hard again against Kacchan's hip. Izuku ran his hand up Kacchan's thigh, the muscles there solid. Izuku wondered if Kacchan's thighs had gotten thicker since they'd begun having sex, the other man frequently complaining about how sore his quads and hamstrings were after an evening of riding Izuku. He wanted to take a tape measure out and find out, or better yet, circle both hands around and squeeze.
Izuku pushed the thought away (for now; he might ask later) and reached for the lube, pressing a knee between Kacchan's legs to coax them open. He didn't want to test Kacchan's patience so early with excessive teasing. The nozzle popped open and Izuku drizzled some lube on three fingers and then scooted down the bed until his head was above those thick thighs just begging for Izuku to bite.
"Deku?" Kacchan asked, pushing up onto his elbows, chest heaving and his shiny lips looking lost without Izuku's covering them.
"Shh, I'm going to take care of you," Izuku said, pressing his fingers against Kacchan's hole.
"Don't fucking shush m—ah!"
Just as Izuku barely pressed two fingers inside, he licked a fat stripe up Kacchan's cock, and promptly swallowed half of it down. Kacchan could always start with two fingers, but Izuku had to go slowly. When they were as deep as they could go, he gave a good suck and pulled back, swirling his tongue around the head before bobbing back down.
"Fuck," Kacchan groaned, reaching a hand down to Izuku's curls and tugging.
Nothing about Kacchan's hands in Izuku's hair was ever soft. The calluses on every curve of his palm and the inside of every knuckle dragged deliciously against Izuku's scalp, his grip firm like he was trying to keep Izuku still, rather than urging him to move. Izuku moaned, licking up the shaft again and mouthing the side of it before taking one ball in his mouth and sucking. All the while, he kept his fingers at an even pace, focusing on rhythmically scissoring them, rather than feeling for Kacchan's sweet spots.
"Another," Kacchan demanded, squeezing even tighter at the roots of Izuku's hair, lifting him back up to the head of his cock.
Izuku complied, adding his lubed ring finger to the mix and smiling as Kacchan hissed. He'd fingered Kacchan in this position before, but it wasn't what they usually did; he wondered if it felt different.
After a minute of that, Izuku was about to add a fourth when Kacchan suddenly pulled Izuku's head off his cock. One hand was behind Kacchan, pushing him up halfway to sitting to show eyes that were dilated, lower lip bitten as bright as his irises. His chest was heaving, drawing Izuku's eyes to the thin sheen of moisture on the swell of his pecs, the twin trails of sweat rolling from his neck down the center.
"Enough."
"But Kacchan—" Izuku protested. The last thing he wanted was for this experiment to go poorly because he hadn't stretched Kacchan enough beforehand.
"It's enough," Kacchan insisted, a low growl coarsening his voice. "You wanted to fuck me so damn badly—so fuck me."
"O-Okay," Izuku said, leaning back up, catching Kacchan's lips immediately. One of Kacchan's arms found its way across Izuku's back, and Izuku beamed at the touch. He allowed himself to be pulled closer as he fumbled blindly for the condom, slipping it on himself onehandedly before raising one of Kacchan's legs over his shoulder. "Ready?"
"If you don't fuck me now, I swear to God—"
Izuku chuckled and pressed the head of his cock against Kacchan's entrance. "Okay, Kacchan."
There was little resistance as Izuku pushed inside, Kacchan's mouth gasping against his at the sensation.
It was an entirely new skill, not just topping, but being the one on top. Izuku took a few moments trying to match the familiar rocking rhythm he was used to Kacchan setting, keeping his eyes locked on Kacchan's face in order to gauge his reactions to the angle, the pace, the depth.
"How's that, Kacchan?" Izuku asked when he finally settled into a rhythm, brushing Kacchan's hair out of his face.
"Shut up," Kacchan spat, or tried to, were his voice not so breathy. Though Izuku couldn't help but notice how he ever so slightly leaned into Izuku's hand.
Kacchan's face was warm, already dark across the cheeks just like it was when he was the one doing all the work. So the heat wasn't just from the exertion—it was the feeling, the sex itself that set Kacchan afire like this.
Suddenly, Kacchan gasped, his whole body going rigid as his eyes squeezed shut. His abs went tight, each muscle pressing against the skin, hard as smooth skipping stones against Izuku's.
"Not—Not there," Kacchan keened desperately, causing Izuku immediately to slow to a near stop, eyes trying to catch Kacchan's.
"Did I hurt you?"
Kacchan shook his head, his hips still moving, urging Izuku to pick back up. "No," he said quietly, quickly. "It's…just…"
"Overwhelming?" Izuku offered, unsurprised when Kacchan's glowering eyes immediately flew open. "What's the worst that'll happen? You'll finish? You can let go, Kacchan. There's nothing to worry about unless you're in pain."
Kacchan huffed, turning his head to the side. Watching him, Izuku reset his pace, searching for that same angle again. Kacchan's expression would have been a pout were it not for his slack jaw, breath still coming out in light pants. But there was nothing there trying to urge Izuku back.
After a few moments, Kacchan's body went tight again. His abs, his grip over Izuku's shoulder, and his hole, quivering as Izuku thrust again and again. Kacchan's first whine came out, and his face turned back forward, chin jutting up and Izuku leaned down to kiss him. The whines were deep in the back of Kacchan's throat, coming out whether or not his mouth was covered by Izuku's.
Izuku sent his own groan back as Kacchan tightened further around him, lifting his other leg to wrap around Izuku's waist. Kacchan's calf muscle was the only one in his whole body not flexed and hard with a hero's strength, pressing against Izuku's ass, keeping him close. It became hard for Izuku to maneuver, barely able to pull out before pressing in again, balls slapping against Kacchan's ass.
Reluctantly, Izuku pulled back from the kiss, and took a much needed breath. Kacchan's face was redder than before, down to his neck. Both arms were around Izuku's neck, keeping his whole body close, not just his hips.
"You don't want me to pull out very much when you're close, do you, Kacchan?" Izuku asked, thinking of the way the other man always ground down on him at the end when he rode him.
The only answer Izuku got was Kacchan's elbows hooking around Izuku's back, pulling him even closer, nails pressing between his shoulder blades.
Izuku focused all his energy on thrusting in, the effort pushing Kacchan into the mattress, pulling more desperate sounds out of the other man.
"Deku," Kacchan said suddenly. A gasping breath. "Deku."
"Come on, Kacchan," Izuku urged. "Let go."
Izuku barely got the words out before Kacchan was spurting between them, his groan deep and guttural. He came and came, squeezing hard on Izuku the whole time until his limbs relaxed, falling back to the bed.
It was only then that Izuku realized what a close thing it was. All that heat that Kacchan had been feeling, all that desperation—Izuku had been feeling it too. Suddenly he could barely press through the last handful of thrusts it took for him to finish too, hard and plentiful into the condom.
Izuku's shoulders creaked as he fell onto Kacchan's chest. Gosh, he hadn't realized how tensely he'd been holding all his muscles. He couldn't imagine bringing it up in physical therapy, but if they were going to continue like this, that was something he'd have to work on. Maybe book a massage.
"Deku," Kacchan said, his voice half back to normal, still a note of breathiness lightening it. "Get off. You're a million pounds."
Izuku pulled out and rolled over obediently, letting out a big sigh as he did so. As he dealt with the condom, he said, "I always let you stay on my chest. And we weigh almost exactly the same."
"If you're supposed to be taking care of me, then I shouldn't have to hold you like a mother koala."
Izuku's chest bloomed at those words, barely hearing the second half of the sentence. He'd taken care of Kacchan. Kacchan had allowed himself to be taken care of. It filled Izuku's heart so thoroughly that it spilled over into giddiness. It was all Izuku could do to keep from giggling.
"Was that okay for you, Kacchan?" he asked instead, rolling onto his side. "Did you hate it?"
Kacchan blinked up at the ceiling. His cheeks were returning to their usual golden color and somewhere along the line his unruly hair had plastered on his forehead again. Izuku reached over to push it back again.
"I didn't hate it."
"Really?" Izuku asked, unable to hold back a wide grin. "You liked it?"
Kacchan frowned, looking away. "I didn't hate it."
Izuku pressed up onto his elbow, trying to get a better look at Kacchan's face. It was a little red again, despite the fact that Izuku was sure he'd just seen it go back to normal a moment before.
"So…we can do it again sometime?"
Kacchan shrugged. "If you want to."
Izuku smiled. Okay, so the communication wasn't perfect yet. The sex wasn't perfect yet, although Izuku was determined to make good on that one. But as Izuku folded him against Kacchan's still-pliant body, knowing that he understood what it was Kacchan was trying to tell him, he felt that maybe they weren't that far off either.