Chapter Text
Exactly eleven days pass before Katsuki has had enough. Not like he’s counting.
He doesn’t contact Izuku, Izuku doesn’t contact him. He’s too... unsure of what to make of the guy. Perverted. Attractive. Fucking weirdo. Good with his tongue. The thoughts that run through his brain about that man’s tongue. The things it can do, the words it can say.
It’s fucking consuming him.
When he wears the lingerie, all he thinks about is if the damn nerd would find him attractive enough to eat (again). Yet, he hasn't said a word to Katsuki. Was it a one time thing? Fuck, Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t a one and done kind of man. Especially if Izuku was the one telling him how perfect he was. There’s no way.... right? The nerd is constantly on his mind and he can’t stand not being the center of his intense form of attention. So he texts him. Something subtle and demanding all in one.
Trying on all this shit tonight. Be here or don’t.
It gets the point across. Katsuki is practically teeming with anticipation, bubbling at the base of his stomach, thinking about getting Izuku to drool all over him (not literally) (maybe a little).
He backs up a second, gets a brilliant idea, so brilliant it warrants a smirk to spread across his lips. He fumbles through the bag of lingerie, picking out a few pieces he remembers Izuku paying extra attention to in the store.
Setting three of Izuku’s presumed favorites onto his bed, he strips down and begins to try them on.
The first is plain, simple, looks more like the kind of thing you’d catch a college girl wearing as a swimsuit. It’s black— and upon further investigation, Katsuki noticed the bralette is entirely see-through. Ah, so that’s what makes it lingerie. He slips out of his work clothes and into the underwear first. The fabric lays low and thin, barely able to house his cock entirely. It’s a glorified patch of fabric with straps that cause just the slightest amount of skin to pool over the edges. He feels fucking great in it, but he’s more concerned with his inability to safely keep his balls from riding up his ass... so he moves on to the next set and makes a mental note to buy a strappy pair that can accommodate him better.
The second set is a deep red, with, well more straps. Katsuki is beginning to think there’s a common theme here. Putting it on is... well, fine, but making said straps go where they need to go? Seems impossible. Is this supposed to fit around his thigh? Is he a fucking twig? There was no way in hell he was getting that to work!
He strips, defeated and embarrassed despite being alone during his dressing endeavors. He looks over to the last set, hopes it’s his saving grace, and tugs each separate piece on. It’s simple enough of a design for him to figure out, he has no problems getting dressed. Even the fit isn’t bad, a bit tight in the crotch— Katsuki guesses that’s a feeling that never really goes away.
The set is light green, tinted the slightest of yellows. It’s see-through, leaving little to the imagination in between woven in leaves and vines that twist and turn at every angle. It’s a forest of lace, that cups and accentuates and exposes every curve of his pale body and dips down to hug his natural v.
Katsuki wanders into his bathroom to get a look at himself, and shit does he look good. It gives him a certain soft edge in all the right ways. He checks his phone with a sigh. Thirty minutes have passed now and his impatience has come back with a vengeance. How dare Izuku ignore him?
Katsuki’s eyes scan his phone again, and he’s struck with another brilliant idea. He thinks back to some of the stupid poses Mina does when she’s asking one of their friends to take a picture at the beach, or one of her infamous bathroom selfies that Katsuki typically just mindlessly scrolls by. How should he position his body? The lingerie helps in highlighting his more effeminate features but he still looks like a hot dude wearing underwear not built for him.
But Katsuki Bakugou isn’t a girl.
He has ample respect for them, the powerhouses they can be, but just because he likes to look hot in women’s lingerie doesn’t mean he needs to tone down himself. If he wanted to look like a girl, or felt like one, he could. No problem with that— but that’s not who he is.
So he poses like every other sexy picture he’s ever sent (which is not a lot, considering). His thumb is tucked into the lace of his panties as if they were teasing as to what's down below. His face houses a smirk and he snaps a photo that looks like a gym selfie except he forgot his clothes.
Katsuki examines the photo, clicks send with the caption “already started trying stuff on, you’re late”, and throws a sheer robe he finds amongst his new collection. He’s cold and realistically knows the robe won’t actually help, but dammit if he ruins the illusion when Izuku comes rushing to his door.
And come rushing to his door he does. It’s not even ten minutes later and there’s a loud, frantic knocking at his front door. Katsuki rises off his couch to answer it and is greeted by Izuku’s freckled face and damp curls. His green eyes are wide with interest, pupils blown upon first glance.
Katsuki eats that shit up. “Deku,” he drawls out, “I’m sorry, I think you missed the show.” He has no intention of kicking him out, he’ll try out a few outfits of Izuku’s picking, maybe have another fun experience along the way.
“Katsuki.” This catches Katsuki’s attention. Izuku hasn’t said his full first name since the day they met, only that stupid kiddy nickname. “Please let me in.” He’s not quite begging but there’s a desperation in his voice that trails off when his eyes reach Katsuki’s waist.
“I dunno, not in the mood to try anything on. Especially someone so keen on ignoring me,” he says smugly, pretending to shut the door. Izuku stops it from shutting with his arm, taking a step forward which causes Katsuki to lose his footing. He stumbles back, just narrowly avoiding going ass first onto his floor. “The fuck?” He grunts, playful nature taking flight. “What was that for—“
“I’m coming in, Kacchan,” Izuku says, eyes brimming with desire. He shuts the door behind him and without giving Katsuki a moment to respond or to think, he launches forward. Their lips crash together in a series of messy kisses that suck the air right out of Katsuki’s lungs, and before he knows it, he’s dipping down onto the couch with Izuku showing no signs of stopping.
Katsuki pushes up on Izuku’s shoulders to remove the weight gathering on his chest. “Deku,” he rasps, lips raw and red from his nips and licks. “Deku, hold on.” Izuku sits up straight. They’re both panting like dogs on a summer’s day and the growing tent of Izuku’s pants is making it hard to concentrate.
“Shit,” he mutters softly. “I didn’t even ask if this was okay. I just came onto you, again , we haven’t even talked about the last time—“
“Deku—“
“—and consent is totally important and even if I’m buying you, like, lingerie it’s not like you owe me anything, right? I don’t expect that of you, honestly.” He’s addressing Katsuki directly yet talks right through him. He’s on his knees upright now, running a hand through his dark hair. “And well, I had no intention of doing this again, please believe that—“
Katsuki raises an eyebrow. “No intention, huh?”
Izuku hears that and he groans, sliding his hands to cover his face. “No no no, don’t get me wrong. I’m really attracted to you, Kacchan. I want to, but I don’t want to scare you away or freak you out by coming on too strong or not establishing boundaries or even asking if kissing you is okay? I just assumed because of what happened at Midnight’s and that’s not okay—“
“Deku.”
“—you just sent that picture and I completely lost it—“
“DEKU.” Izuku snaps his lips shut to finally pay attention to a flushed Katsuki.
“I asked you to stop because you’re crushing my dick.”
His face drops. “Oh.” When Katsuki gives him an expectant look, he scrambles off him.
“Sorry, sorry.”
Katsuki sits up next to Izuku, arms crossed over his chest. He feels entirely exposed. “And you didn’t scare me away. Give me some credit, I’m no wimp.”
Izuku softens, running his hands down his face until they fall in his lap. “No, definitely not. No wimp would send an almost stranger a picture of them in that .” He makes a gesture towards Katsuki.
Katsuki, in turn, looks down as if he has completely forgotten what he’s wearing. He scowls at Izuku. “I’ll make you delete it.”
“No! No,” Izuku bites his lip and Katsuki wishes it was his. “I’m not going to share it with anyone. I promise.”
“Good.” They sit awkwardly in silence, as if waiting for the other to speak.
Izuku breaks the silence first. “So, the kissing? And uh, the time before... good? That was okay?”
Katsuki rolls his eyes. Funny how hot and cold this guy could be. He didn’t mind, not really. He was concerned with his boundaries, careful enough to broach the subject. He just didn’t want to be treated like glass under his touch. “Yeah, fine. I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”
Izuku nods. “I saw that picture and knew I had to see you. But in person?” His eyes dart down to Katsuki’s lips and he clenches his hands into fists, as if fighting the urge to pull him into another kiss.
Katsuki wants him to but he doesn’t know why. He’s never been with a man, only had fleeting thoughts. Izuku is sitting beside him, all viridian eyes and freckled skin, and Katsuki is extremely aware of every twitch of his mouth or change in his breathing. “I’ve never... ya know.” Just admitting it out loud makes him want to jump off a freaking building.
“Kacchan, we don’t have to do anything. I got a little worked up—“
“Can you shut your mouth for like, two seconds?” Katsuki interrupts and it lacks its usual sharp edge. “I’m fine, don’t baby me. I’m a grown ass man who can make decisions.”
“You’re right—“
“Damn, not even two seconds Deku.” Izuku grimaces at the call out, obviously about to say sorry like he always does. Katsuki is so sick of hearing that voice in this context, so he climbs to his knees to crawl over to Izuku’s side of the couch. The robe falls from his shoulders to expose bare skin, and while it had been sheer, without it the lingerie is in full and unobstructed view.
It’s as if Izuku’s brain shuts off, he leans back to allow him to blanket him with his body. The couch is a tight fit, with Katsuki straddling Izuku’s thighs with one leg buried in the cushions and the other hanging off the edge . In his mind, there’s no time for readjusting— if he stops right now, he’ll lose his momentum. He presses down until their chests are flush together and kisses Izuku, who hums in contentment at being shut up in such a manner.
He’s on top, he should be the one with all the power, yet Izuku pushes up into him to claim his dominance. Hands slink around Katsuki’s back to slip under forest green lace, warm and desperate for skin.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says through broken kisses, “I’m taking you to the bedroom right now.” It isn’t a question and it certainly isn’t a suggestion.
Katsuki grunts in response, a confirmation, and Izuku uses all his strength to push off from the couch with Katsuki in tow. Instinctively he wraps his legs around Izuku’s waist and arms at his neck. The robe is bunching up together at the creases of his elbows and hanging precarious low on his back, barely on him now, and Katsuki can’t make himself care. He’s too occupied with Izuku slipping his tongue down his throat while maneuvering through furniture in his living room to find his bedroom.
He’s got to give the nerd credit later. He’s more coordinated than he appears to be, much to Katsuki’s surprise (and delight).
Without warning he’s on the bed and Izuku is taking his shirt off over his head. He’s more muscular than his loose clothing lets on, and Katsuki is more than pleased to find that the freckles continue down his chest and gather where his waist and pants meet. Izuku catches him staring and offers a dopey grin that’s as endearing as it is sexy. And those eyes— they feel as if they’re undressing every inch of him, so fixated on offering their full and undivided attention. Katsuki can feel the heat growing in his face under the intensity of his gaze.
Izuku bends down to offer another deep kiss and stands up off to the side to take his pants off. Katsuki props himself up with his elbows to take in the entirety of him, swallows down his nervousness to reach forward to drag Izuku back into the bed. Izuku resists at first and Katsuki frowns. “Lube,” he says sweetly like it’s music to his goddamn ears. He looks over to his desk and without words, Izuku seems to comprehend. On his second attempt at opening drawers, he finds unopened lube and a pack of condoms.
“C’mere, Deku,” and it’s the closest thing to begging he’ll ever get. Izuku follows his command and sets aside the condom on the nightstand in arm’s reach. He opens the plastic off the lube, doesn’t mention it much to Katsuki’s relief, and bends down to kiss below his ear.
“I’ll start you out real slow, Kacchan,” he whispers, nipping at his neck with teeth-baring kisses. Katsuki shudders under the feel of his mouth, knots his fingers in endless curls.
“Don’t treat me like I might break,” Katsuki reminds him while offering a light tug of his hair. “Just fuck me like you would anyone else.”
Izuku pauses his line of kisses to peek up at Katsuki. “I’m not sure I can do that, Kacchan. Have you seen yourself? You’re unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.”
Katsuki blushes, goddamn goes red, and he mentally curses him for having that effect on him. “Shut up and kiss me, nerd.” No, he could easily melt under those praises any time of the day. Izuku obeys, takes his lips in an open mouthed kiss that leaves drool dripping from the side of his mouth. God, if just kissing gets Katsuki this worked up— how will he be when things go further?
Eager hands explore the hem of Katsuki’s panties, tracing the designs of flowers and vines with gentle strokes of expert fingers. Izuku removes his lips, his touch, only momentarily to apply lube to his finger. “I’m gonna start now,” he warns, helping Katsuki to scoot up so his head rests on his pillow. Izuku positions himself so he’s next to him, head at the level of his collarbone. He drags his tongue along it, kisses at the freckles right under the edge of fabric. He places a hesitant kiss on Katsuki’s nipple through the fabric and gently sucks as his hand pushes aside his panties. He works his fingers to his ass, carefully prodding and assessing Katsuki’s facial expressions as he draws closer to his target.
“You look so beautiful like this.” A finger enters Katsuki and he squirms instinctively. He’s played with himself once or twice in the shower but this was still new to him, he never imagined having a man working one—oh god now two—fingers into his ass.
He lets out a long groan. It’s not entirely pleasant, it hadn’t been when he was trying it out on himself, but with every pull and push and twist of his fingers, the pain lessens. “Fuck Deku, what happened to going slow?”
Izuku clamps down on his hardened nipple and Katsuki whines . It’s weak and breathy but he whines under Izuku’s touch.
“Sorry, you told me not to baby you.” A third finger joins in and Katsuki bucks his hips against his hand, which is increasing its pace. “You’re taking me so well, god, I can’t wait to feel you.”
He shivers as Izuku refocuses his attention on his other nipple, bites and prods and devours the sensitive skin. “F-fuck, don’t rip these. Let me take them off—“
“No,” Izuku immediately intervenes. “Please baby, I can’t get over how perfect you look right now. I’ll be careful.”
Katsuki doesn’t respond and Izuku seems to take that as a victory. He removes his fingers from Katsuki and reaches over to grab the lube from the other side of him. “Here, why don’t you help me?” It takes a second for Katsuki to realize what he’s referring to. He looks over to the bottle of lube that is being presented to him and wordlessly accepts it. Izuku hums his approval and lays down, presenting his exposed dick like a goddamn present. He gathers himself enough to sit, aware of the new sensation of throbbing as he does so.
He squirts the lube onto Izuku, probably too much now that he’s looking at it, and tosses it aside to begin working it onto his cock. Which is thicker than he was expecting. Much. Much. Thicker.
It’s roughly average length, perhaps a hair more, but the girth looks like it’ll tear Katsuki’s ass to pieces. Just imagining it has him going crazy… Katsuki needs to focus on the task at hand. He’s giving the hot laundry guy a handjob in hopes of getting his cock up his ass and he’s not going to disappoint. This part he’s confident in. Hell he’s been giving (himself) rub downs for YEARS. How hard could it be to do it to someone else? Katsuki takes one hand and places it at the base, begins working his cock with firm strokes. Izuku hasn’t taken his eyes off him, his breathing shifting and out of sync.
“Just like that, you’re doing so good baby.” Shit, does he like it when he says those things. It’s an oddly intimate thing, stroking someone else’s dick while staring into each other’s eyes. It’s overwhelming being the center of Izuku’s attention, all of it, but he doesn’t want it anywhere else.
A big hand rests on his arm and he smiles, eyes soft. “Come here.”
Katsuki kisses the head of cock, sticky with lube and precum, before climbing over to rest on his knees beside him. Izuku chuckles and stops him from taking position, guides him by his hips until he’s straddling him once more.
“I want to see you when you’re riding me, Kacchan.”
Oh. He’s been completely expecting to take it from behind— that’s just how he’s imagined it. Izuku is pulling his panties to the side and spreading him apart. For a one time fuck, it strangely feels like they’re lovers. His heart slams into his chest as Izuku talks him through every motion. Normally he’d fight back, argue he doesn’t need directions, but now he’s too preoccupied with the tip of Izuku’s cock pushing at his rim.
“I’ll let you take control first,” he smiles. “I can’t promise how long that’ll last though.”
Katsuki lowers himself down onto Izuku and it’s dizzying. It tears into him despite the gratuitous amount of lube and preparing they’ve done. “Shit.”
“That’s it baby, halfway there. I know you can do it.” Izuku is pressing his fingertips into the flesh of his hips, guiding him down. If that’s what half feels like, he’s got a lot coming for him. His breathing is ragged and he thinks he lets out a series of moans until he bottoms out.
“You feel so good, so perfect Kacchan.” All he is feeling is incredibly full. Katsuki stays like this, cock buried in his ass and unmoving. He’s trying to regain his breath, his concentration, anything really. He’s well aware how easy it’ll be to lose himself the second he begins to move.
“Trying to be patient,” Izuku finally says. It’s his cue to start moving. He goes at a painstakingly slow pace, rising up before sinking all the way back down. And through all the slivers of pain, it feels fucking good.
They keep at that speed for a while, it’s comfortable for Katsuki and elicits soft moans of praise from Izuku. Katsuki’s hands are pressed on his chest to keep his balance, which he soon finds out he needs when Izuku thrusts up as he glides down. He grunts, moans, whines— some weird combination of all three as a ripple of pleasure spreads through him.
“You like it there?” Katsuki doesn’t have to answer as he thrusts upwards again. And again. And again, until he’s practically bouncing on Izuku’s cock with the sheer force of his involvement. One hand remains at his hips and the other palms his erection through the panties. It’s tight and slightly uncomfortable, and Izuku must sense this as he pulls down just enough to spring his cock free from the constricting lace. Sudden relief rushes through him with the release and it only takes a few more thrusts and ample strokes for his own cock to cum all over Izuku’s bare chest. He topples over onto him, into the mess he’s made with his ass still being hammered into. The stimulation is unbearable and his moans are weak.
“D-Deku, I can’t...”
“Just a little longer,” he reassures, “I know you can do it. Fuck, you came so good on my dick for me Kacchan.” He doesn’t get to reply as he’s filled with a warm rush of liquid. He completely collapses into him, panting and teary eyed from the intensity of being fucked past his orgasm.
Katsuki looks over to the side table, an unopened condom sitting there, forgotten. “Shit,” he huffs, burying his face into the crook of Izuku’s chest. “You better be clean.”
Izuku follows his previous line of gaze and sighs into blonde spikes. “I am. But I can go get tested again if you’d like.”
“Don’t wanna talk about it right now, nerd.” His words are muffled against his throat. “Just let me lay like this for a few minutes.”
“Okay, Kacchan.” Izuku kisses the top of his head. “You did so good.”
“Said that already.”
“Mhmm,” Izuku replies. “I guess I did. Can’t help how perfect you were.”
“Am.”
“Are.”
“Great. Now shut the fuck up for a minute and cuddle me or whatever the fuck it is you do after sex.”
Katsuki lets Izuku remove himself from inside of him before pulling him closer to abide by his demands. They’ll be up to shower in a little bit, but for now he’ll settle for the comforting fall of the nerd’s chest rising and falling beneath him.
Katsuki and Izuku settle into quiet complacency (though the neighbors would definitely disagree). It becomes a sort of routine, a dance where Katsuki pretends to take the lead even though mentally he's shaking. It's casual, maybe, but nights like tonight bring up questions.
Nights spent at home on the couch have become normal for them, a subtle touch of the thigh and heated debates about old cartoons and movies they both share a passion for. Usually the bickering leads them to the bedroom, where Izuku unwraps him like a goddamn present and Katsuki lets him. He's always prepared with something new. And while he'd like to deny the fact he strategically chooses his lingerie for their hangouts, he makes sure it's either something new or a favorite of Izuku's. Both options warrant excited responses that are conveyed with kisses and bruises in the most intimate of spots.
But tonight, no tonight, the damn nerd isn't even trying to subtly touch him or any of that other cuddly shit. He's barely paying attention to the movie, let alone Katsuki, who is squirming under the fullness of a buttplug he bought from a courageous outing alone to Midnight's. Her and her assistant Niss spent practically an HOUR throwing all shapes and sizes (and textures) at him. Honestly if it hadn't been for Niss, who was a bit more calm even if just as chaotic as their boss, he wouldn’t have known where to start.
Sorry Midnight, but a raccoon tail up the ass is not sexy. Which spiraled Katsuki's line of thinking to what if Izuku thought tails were sexy and would he even try it for him. T hat's the story of how Katsuki is sitting on the opposite end of Izuku's couch with a bright emerald jeweled buttplug up his ass while Izuku actively ignores him. He's absentmindedly scrolling through his phone like he has nothing better to do and it's pissing Katsuki off.
"The part where the chick dies is coming up," he says while looking in Izuku's direction. He has no clue if anyone actually dies in the movie, neither of them has seen it, but he does know that Izuku hates spoilers.
Izuku doesn't flinch, mumbles something incoherent along the lines of "oh yeah". Now Katsuki's blood is boiling. In one swift move he's straddling Izuku's hips and taking the phone out of his hand, tossing it aside to demand his attention. "Oi, Deku, what's more interesting than me?" Izuku stumbles over his thoughts with his tongue, hands cautiously finding Katsuki's thighs as if he's a ticking time-bomb.
"K-Kacchan, I'm sorry I'm distracted," he tries to explain. Katsuki is having none of it. He grinds down against the growing bulge in Izuku's pants to remind him who's in control of the situation.
"With what?" Katsuki repeats while wrapping an arm around his neck to further steady the rocking of his hips. Fuck him for being distracted and fuck himself for being bothered by it.
"It doesn't matter, really."
Katsuki scoffs. "We're watching your favorite actor's newest release and I'm one foot away from you with a fucking jewel up my ass, ready to fuck you. And you're on your phone? Doesn't matter my ass." He reaches over to grab Izuku's phone, still unlocked and on his most recent image.
A blond dressed in lingerie, bent over and ass out. A blond that isn't Katsuki. He grits his teeth and shoves the phone onto Izuku's chest. He climbs off and makes a beeline for the door, red faced for all the wrong reasons. "Hey, wait a minute-"
Katsuki waits, turns on his heel to face Izuku who is halfway across the room chasing after him. "You can buy shit for whoever you like, fuck whoever you want, but at least have the decency to want me while I'm right next to you." Whatever this was, it's not supposed to hurt. He's jealous, seething with it, wants to find the blond in the picture and burn down his house. And all the stupid lingerie Izuku bought him along with it.
"Do you mean that?" Izuku frowns. The dance has to come to an end at some point right?
"That I want you to not look at other fucking people to get you in the mood to fuck me? I dunno, take a wild guess." Izuku digs his phone out to show the screen to Katsuki. "Ew, what the fuck-I don't want to see your stash of dirty pics--"
Izuku hits select all as he rants, deletes every photo in his camera roll, nudes, and personal pictures alike. Katsuki blinks, staring at an empty folder. "I was trying to delete them."
"You know you just deleted everything right?"
"Yeah. I uh, wanted to prove my point faster," Izuku brings his phone back to his pocket. "I'll delete everything off my computer too. I can even do it right now." God, how desperately Katsuki wants to hijack it out of there and into the comfort of his apartment.
"Okay, say I believe you. Why were you choosing this fucking moment to do it?" He asks and Izuku scratches his head, like he knows what he did was wrong for the moment.
"You've practically been here every night for the past week," Izuku admits and Katsuki averts his gaze. "I haven't had the time, but it's something I've been wanting to do."
He feels something deep in his gut, it's uncomfortable and foreign and he wants it to stop. "You can just tell me to go home if-"
"No," Izuku replies immediately. He takes a few steps forward to place a hand on Katsuki's arm. "I didn't say I didn't want you here. It's actually the opposite."
He visibly relaxes under his touch and he hates himself for it. "You have a great way of showing it." The other hand raises up to cup his cheek and it takes everything in him to look Izuku in the eye.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, Kacchan."
"You didn't upset me." This warrants a chuckle from Izuku, which in turn, warrants a scowl from Katsuki. "What's so funny, you perv-"
Izuku tugs him into a kiss, long and quiet. The scowl melts in reaction to the softness and Katsuki doesn't finish his sentence when Izuku inevitably pulls back. "Katsuki Bakugou, Panty thief extraordinaire. I want to uh, only see you in lingerie. And I want you to only wear it for me-- and yourself of course."
Katsuki gives Izuku a blank stare like a malfunctioning computer. "Did you just call me a 'panty thief extraordinaire'?"
"Oh, sorry," Izuku backtracks. "I guess I did catch you right away... maybe 'panty thief amateur' is better?
"I'll kill you." His hands remain at Izuku's sides from where they took residence during their kiss.
"' My panty thief amateur?’"
"With fire. Kill you with fire. No one will find the body," Katsuki continues and Izuku's body is shaking with laughter. He kisses the skin right below his ear.
"What do you say, Kacchan? To uh," he makes a gesture at the two of them, "this? Just us." Katsuki's face turns it's iconic shade of red that says everything Izuku needs to know. He buries his face into a shoulder to mask the visible flush.
"Sure, yeah, fine, whatever." Katsuki's voice is muffled by the fabric of Izuku's hoodie but it's enough to seal the deal. "Now come fuck me before I decide to take this stupid thing out myself." Katsuki tears away from Izuku and heads for the bedroom, a different door this time, with no intention of exiting or running away. Izuku's eyes go wide with the statement and he runs after him with a shout.
"You better keep it in! I wanna see!" It's practically a whine, a beg, and Katsuki knows he'll succumb to his request.
He always does for Izuku, lets him undress the secret parts of him all wrapped in lace and the feelings he's no good at showing. Since when had he become so... soft? So delicate? He crumples under that calloused touch-eager for it to undo him.
Time passes like a freight train, fast and with purpose. Before they know it, a year passes and the chaos has only just started.
Izuku picks Katsuki up by the waist and plants him on their newly purchased washer in their shared apartment. He peppers kisses down his exposed neck, leaves purple bruises that go nicely with Katsuki's lilac panties he has his hand down. The only sounds filling the air are that of the dryer tumbling slow and loud, and the soft whimpers of Katsuki trembling under Izuku's strokes. He slides Katsuki's cock out from behind lace and licks a wet stripe up from the base. The blond buries his hands into green curls, tosses his head back as Izuku swallows him down.
It's become a household tradition- Tuesday nights are for laundry. What they do in the time in between loads-- well, what's dirtying one more set of underwear?