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Deku gets into a quirk accident and Katsuki isn’t there to kick him out of the way.
Actually, nobody was there. Deku was alone because he’d once again been an idiot and rushed along ahead, leaving his team to catch up and wonder where he went. In fact, hours passed before they found him, leading the team, the agency, and Katsuki to think he’d gone and been kidnapped.
They wonder no longer.
Katsuki glares down at the table at arms crossed, angry enough to blow fire out his damn nostrils like a dragon. Down at the table.
Because there Izuku sat on the saltshaker, his shamefaced near-husband, no more than five or six inches tall. Twiddling his little thumbs, kicking his tiny heels.
Katsuki’s almost-husband had been shrunk smaller than his dick a mere two weeks away from their fucking wedding.
“Doc said it wouldn’t last longer than three days.” Came Deku’s shamefaced voice, trying to appease him. It sounded off, high-pitched, tiny. Katsuki had to strain to hear him at all.
“Doc also said you’re lucky as fuck that you didn’t shrink down into nothing and die.” Katsuki’s in no mood to be appeased.
“I didn’t know this would happen!”
“No, and neither did your team!” Katsuki yells, probably deafening because he leans over and does it in Izuku’s face. The little green haired ferret is blown over backwards off the shaker by the force of his yell, falling onto the table with a tiny, tiny oof. “A team, remember them? Remember the backs you’re supposed to watch and who are supposed to watch yours?!”
He rubs his ear as he sits up, pouting and unhappy and overall, very, very sorry.
Not sorry enough.
Katsuki scoffs and turns on his heel. He’s got shit to do.
“Kacchan! Kacchan, wait!” Comes Deku’s panicked voice, the volume of a mouse chittering. A muted thump, and Katsuki rears around to yell some more, but finds the table empty.
Ice spears through him. Deku’s tiny, he couldn’t fall off the table, he’d die. His quirk was suppressed because of the shrinking, Doc said so. If he fell off the table and split his head open on the ground and died, Katsuki would kill him again, half of the city, and then himself.
No, wait, there’s movement on the chair. Izuku clambers to his hands and knees and rubs his nose, having smashed it when he launched himself off the table to catch up to his fiancé. It wasn’t more than two feet worth of distance, but to Izuku it must have felt like two stories.
Katsuki fists his hands and wants to leave again, but there’s a look of aborted fear on Izuku’s face. He’s tiny, and he has no quirk right now. Quirkless and helpless and at everyone’s mercy.
“You goddamn idiot.” Katsuki sighs, and he hates how easily he forgives him. Kneeling by the chair, Katsuki urges Izuku upright with two fingers.
“I’m sorry.” Izuku sniffles but walks willingly to Katsuki and raises up his tiny arms.
Cupping him in his palms, Katsuki brings him up close, feeling absolutely foolish. Izuku doesn’t seem to feel the same, putting his arms wide out against Katsuki’s face and pressing tightly to him, hugging his cheek with all the force his little toothpick arms could manage.
He’s about the length of Katsuki’s whole hand, fingertip to wrist. Katsuki could crush him easily, break his bones that are as feeble as a bird’s right now. An accidental twitch of his finger could hurt Izuku terribly, let alone his fucking quirk, an explosion right now might just turn him into dust.
Katsuki lets out a gust of breath, and it makes Izuku’s hair plaster to his scalp, blown back.
“I love you.” Izuku says, rubbing at his own face and holding to Katsuki’s thumb. In his palms, Izuku sits like Katsuki was protecting him, safe and sound, unconcerned with being so little so long as Katsuki had hold of him. Deku’s trust fills him with a certain flavor of responsibility and duty that he’d never tasted before.
Deku literally couldn’t protect himself right now. From anything.
It was up to Katsuki.
“Alright, you fuckhead.” Katsuki says, because like hell is he going to tell Izuku he’d forgiven him already, the idiot could suffer a bit more. “Let’s get out of here. Doc said to bring you home and keep you there. Can’t have the Number One Hero get squashed by some intern’s boot.” Left unsaid was the newest black mark on Deku’s hero record, likely on the verge of giving him a pay-cut once more. It’s happened twice, when Izuku gets too savior-happy and runs ahead, causing problems by getting himself injured.
“Kay.” Izuku sniffs and smiles at him, sad and feeling useless.
.
..
…
Ochako squeals when Izuku pops out from Katsuki’s collar. The rest of the table riots, hollering and hooting and making a general pain of themselves. Their regular restaurant is well used to this, as other diners simply glance over and grin, enjoying the time to watch Pro Heroes act like normal people.
Deku puts an arm behind his head bashfully. He stands up, using Katsuki’s jaw to carefully walk onto his large palm. He clings to Katsuki’s fingers when he slowly sets him on the table.
“Alright, alright, shut the fuck up!” he hollers over their yells, over Kaminari’s dramatic half-faint and Kirishima drumming on the table hard enough it vibrates under them all, sending Deku onto his ass.
“Oh, sweet monsieur,” Aoyama leans down onto his elbows and takes in Izuku’s new stature, “le petite!”
Cackling, Mina brings over her beer pint and stands it next to Izuku, where it towers over him. He could literally drown in that cup. Deku hams it up a little, leaning on the pint on his elbow and cocking an ankle over the other. It makes everyone laugh. Uneasy, Katsuki stews over his ice water, eyeing all the fuss and bother and making sure nothing could potentially threaten to harm his helpless tiny little boyfriend.
“You good?” Jirou says at his side. She’s a welcome chill energy next to him, balancing out the zoo of the rest.
“Fuckin’ peachy.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to him, not here. And you’d stop us if we ever went too far. You always do.” She soothes, amusement quirking her eyebrow. Fucking Jirou, could always read him like a music page and took none of his shit.
“M’fine.” Katsuki drains the last of his water and pucks up the pitcher for more. His hand halfway meets Shinsou’s, who sat on his other side, and he glowers it away. Shinsou just give him that dead-faced grin and gestures with his eyes over where Izuku was chewing his way through a single rigatoni.
“Do you bathe him in an acorn?” Shinsou snickers when Katsuki’s only response is to glare harder.
“No, no, at least an empty margarine tub.” Jirou chirps, and he’s buffeted on both sides.
Fucking purple haired bitches, the both of them.
“I imagine this complicates nighttime activities, don’t it?” Shinsou continues, because he doesn’t value his personal safety. “You’d crush him. And you’d barely feel him.”
“Why is this any of your business?” Katsuki barks, slamming his half empty glass down. It sloshes.
“Give me a break, I’m currently celibate.”
“Hah, not making Zappy happy, are ya?” He thinks his sneer is impressive, but it doesn’t even dent the bored, half sleepy expression. Kaminari is on the other side of the table, engrossed in laughing with Kirishima and measuring Deku with increasingly ridiculous objects. A spoon. A pencil. Someone’s shoe.
“Pissed ‘em off the other day, been on the couch since. Don’t sleep anyways, but it’s always so much more comfortable staring at the ceiling when someone’s snoring into your chest.” Something sweet enters his gaze, sweet and soft and pathetic.
Katsuki’s going to break into hives.
(He doesn’t let on that he agrees)
“Fuck off, we were both exhausted yesterday.” Katsuki’s lips twist. “Spent hours looking for the fucker, just to find him clinging onto a signpost.”
“It’s smart that he thought to climb one, nobody thinks to look down. He could have been stepped on or kicked by someone with good intentions.” Jirou notes, crossing her arms on the table. She’s stealthily taking photographs of both Momo and Mina, phone propped in the corner of her arm to at least pretend she wasn’t.
“Stalker.” Katsuki snorts but doesn’t disagree. Even now his stomach flips at the remembered panic when they couldn’t find Deku and all his devices weren’t pinging. He was just gone.
But then a spot of green, a tiny arm waving, small yells that were totally lost in the din of traffic. Katsuki had almost thought he was hallucinating, at least till he got close enough and a teary-eyed Izuku reached out to him with toothpick arms.
“Report back about the sex, I’m curious and thirsty,” Shinsou says blithely, ignoring Katsuki’s stuttered swears. Jirou rolls her eyes and ducks her face, hiding pinked cheeks and pinker ears from Momo’s curious gaze.
“I hate you, go die.” Katsuki says before stomping up and around the table, pushing Kirishima’s head out the way, leaning over and plucking Deku straight into his hand. He cups him automatically against his chest, careful with him, before scowling as ugly as possibly at the rest. Just his fucking luck to act all sweet and loving when they’re watching, if he’s unlucky he’s gonna get bombarded with—
“Awe!”
“How sweet.”
“Bakugo takes such good care of his boy!”
“Cuties.”
“Midoriya, can you breathe in there?”
The last was Todoroki, and his quip was delivered so deadpan it took a moment to sink in.
“Hah?” Katsuki starts to shout, already trying to turn away and leave before the fucks embarrass him anymore. “The fuck is that supposed to mean, I’m holding him just fine!”
“Oh, he’s not talking about you,” Uraraka’s smile is taunting and devilish, “Isn’t that right Deku?”
A muffled noise. Katsuki glances down and realizes that Izuku’s shoved himself bodily between his pecs, burying his face in the valley between, his arms splayed out and pushing with his feet against Katsuki’s palm so he’s really cushioned on both sides.
It immediately reminds Katsuki of the time Izuku had slobbered his way between his tits, eyes dark and face feverish, while he rutted between Katsuki’s thighs. Arousal flares, and with it a twisting shot of embarrassment.
“You fucking pervs.” He flips the bird with his unoccupied hand and leaves.
“Take me home Kacchan!” Izuku mumbles against him, and Katsuki can’t really hear him over the din of everyone’s laughter. A tiny face draws itself out to beam up at him, and even though it’s the size of Katsuki’s thumbprint, he can still recognize that look.
That look, when Izuku’s the right size, usually results in Katsuki getting to fuck some part of him in new and exciting ways.
Right now, Katsuki has no idea what that look entailed, and somehow that makes it so much hotter.
…
..
.
Katsuki stares, wide eyed. He feels more caught off guard then he did the time Izuku had crawled into his lap, drunk, and proceeded to start stripping in the middle of a bar (they hadn’t even been dating at the time).
Figures both times involve Izuku in his lap, but this time, here Izuku was standing on his hip, five inches and three eighths tall, using his entire body’s strength to pop open Katsuki’s jean button.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“I want to see.” Izuku says, determined. There’s a fervor in his eyes that looks a lot like his quirk-analysis gaze. Katsuki grits his teeth, caught flat-footed.
Somehow this feels wrong…or perhaps that was just the jolt of reluctant arousal. He too wanted to see Izuku standing next to his hard cock, wants to hold himself over the other like a giant.
Why, Katsuki couldn’t begin to imagine. It’s not like he could fuck him or get fucked. There would be no fucking.
So why was he so fucking hard as Izuku fights his zipper down. His cock, straining beneath his briefs, presses up in a lump. Katsuki doesn’t move to help.
Izuku falls over his bulge bodily, laying on it like it were a pillow, and the vague sense of pressure and odd, unnatural movements of an entire body against his throbbing need made Katsuki grip tightly to the bed covers.
“Kacchan, help me. I want to see.” Izuku says again, leaning back on Katsuki’s abdomen to use his feet and push at his pants waistline. He was going a sufficient job, but he huffed and puffed, struggling with the effort.
Fuck that’s so cute. And hot, why?!
Carefully, Katsuki flexes up and wriggles his pants down, then his briefs. His cock arches up to flop at his stomach, and Izuku scrambles against him to get to his feet and touch it. It’s like a small rodent was clambering around his crotch and it was sending all sorts of conflicting signals.
Fuck!
“Deku, what the fu-“ Katsuki says between gritted teeth, as Izuku hauls on his cock like it was a felled log and he a lumberjack, tipping it up, using his own body to push and angle and then he’s standing there on his pelvic bone, accidentally stomping on and yanking his pubic hair, and he’s got both hands against his cock and--
Deku is smaller than his cock.
It stands an inch above him. It’s wider around than Izuku, it’s truly like a fucking tree truck comparatively. A fleshy, veined, pulsing tree trunk that was in face, Katsuki’s overly sensitive cock. Overcome with a wave of lust, Katsuki slams his eyes shut and growls through it. He can’t even fuck his boyfriend right now, why was this so attractive.
He imagines the last time they’d fucked, right here in this bed, and how Izuku had crouched over him, jacking his own cock as Katsuki’s disappears into his body over and over again. How Katsuki had been driven into the bed with force, knocking the air form his lungs, only able to hang on. How Izuku had moaned and use his powerful legs, his hold on their sturdy headboard, to fuck Katsuki so well despite being the one penetrated.
In the now, Katsuki feels the brush of hair, and how Izuku was delicately trying to be careful, walking on his thighs around his balls and touching him here and there. Katsuki can’t distinguish fingers, his hands are just brushes against his skin. Skin, that was throbbing he was so fucking hard.
“Kacchan!” Izuku squeals from below. With his eyes squeezed tight, Katsuki can’t see what he’s so excited by. But he can feel it.
Like a thick, prehensile string, a circle wrapped around the shaft of his cock, tight under the glands. A tiny brush of pressure against him, moving gently side to side, no wider than the eraser on a pencil.
Fine, he has to look, he has to.
Izuku’s got both his arms around Katsuki’s dick, hugging it bodily to his chest and had his face buried under the mushroom head to mouth over and over. He’s smothering himself to taste Katsuki. Katsuki can’t even feel the distinction of his mouth it was so tiny, but the sight of it, the sight of Izuku’s green head the same fucking size as Katsuki’s own head was too much.
A blot of precome seeps out of him, pushed there by a feral rush of arousal, one that came so close to being dangerous that he bit his own fucking knuckle.
Izuku, the madman, draws back to gasp in air and sees the blurt of slick from Katsuki’s slit, and lets out a tiny moan. Reaching up, he gathers it like a damn baseball at his size, wetting his whole hand, and licks it. It gets his mouth and cheeks all wet and sticky.
“You fuck--” Katsuki half-squeaks to his eternal shame, scooping his hand low under Izuku’s feet to snatch the base of his cock in a tight hold to try and get a handle on the waves of want running through him.
“Woah!” Deku had squeaked when his foothold had destabilized, he’d used his hold on Katsuki’s cock to keep upright.
But now Izuku has a better vantage point, standing on the hand gripping Katsuki’s base, he can now look over his cock and sees the wet slit. He dives, buries his face right there at Katsuki’s tip and that’s sensitive enough he can feel the open and close of his mouth. Teeth? Did the fucker just bite him? On his slit?! Izuku shakes his head like a dog, face stuffed in the slit, and Katsuki can feel that in his stomach. It’s both too much and not nearly enough, a tiny, tiny stimulant that flared because holy shit, holy shit, Deku was small.
“Fuck!” Katsuki shouts, jostling his little lover when his other hand snaps down to cradle and then viciously strangle his own balls. He would not come from a bare few licks of Izuku’s tiny tongue!
Panting, Katsuki dislodges Izuku entirely, hauling himself upright to snarl at him, holding him with one hand and his cock with the other. It was weird to feel how similar they felt in his palms. One moved at its own volition though, arms and legs squirming in a very snake-with-legs kind of way.
“Kacchan, you’re huge!” Izuku says, panting himself. He’s wriggling in Katsuki’s hold, using him to shift out of his clothes, the tiny version of his costume that he’d been shrunk in. Since it’s a body suit, in no time he’s naked and tiny in Katsuki’s hand, sitting there as Katsuki stares in dumbfounded silence as the tiny man opens his legs (the size of particularly beefy green beans) and jacks at his cock. It’s red hot and jutting but looks almost like a grain of rice to Katsuki.
“You’re so small.” He rasps, unwillingly. Unconsciously the hand on his cock starts to mimic the pace Izuku set on his own, working himself in tandem with his tiny boyfriend until they’re both reclined together.
“It’s so gorgeous, Kacchan, I can’t even describe it. So huge. Like a car, a boat, but it’s your dick. I want to wrap myself around it again, can I?” Izuku asks, pleads, really. He’s doing that gorgeous thing he does when he’s especially worked up, chest heaving, bottom lip bitten, his legs are spread and he’s got both hands between them touching himself. Absolutely shameless, needy. He jacks at his cock, wet and covered in spit and –fuuuuck--- the remnants of Katsuki’s precome, messily working from root to tip and then down back at his perineum and yes, his tiny, tiny hole.
Katsuki’s eyes are drying out, he hasn’t blinked once, and he squeezes his cock harshly, knuckles wet with his own slick.
“You wanna be my own little cock sleeve, Deku? With arms and legs and a hole I can’t even fuck?” He whispers, somehow feeling a whole lot dirtier than he ever has crowing filth in his boyfriend’s ear.
Izuku’s head flings back and his body shudders in his hand, he jerks, flailing, and comes hard. It’s a spurt that reaches his own chin, but it’s a droplet to Katsuki. He lays back, panting and trusting Katsuki to hold him up. Katsuki nearly breaks a rib bending so quickly, licks delicately across Izuku’s front, feeling especially dirty when the other’s arms and legs flail against his face and he squeals, pressed flat by the force of Katsuki’s tongue.
He tasted like the tiniest bit of salt, but the way he squirmed was too much. His brows crease, his hand flies wetly over his red cock and he spurts, coming in his own fist, moaning against Izuku’s tiny, tiny body.
“You didn’t…” Izuku pants heavily, petting with his whole arm against Katsuki’s cheek, “…let me touch you. I wanted to be come on, I bet I can swim in it.”
“You are such a freak,” Katsuki groans, helpless to the shot of lust his cock couldn’t handle. He dribbles out some more come, and collapses back, taking care to place Izuku on the pillow next to his head. They lay there together, one only half the size of a fucking ruler.
His cock is deflating, laying sticky and swollen on his thigh. He doesn’t even care, cause Deku was straight up naked, tiny limbs splayed out.
They lay there in silence, dozing, it’s almost normal except for the way Katsuki can only just sense the dip in the pillow where Izuku weighed it down.
He’s going to roll over onto the little thing in his sleep, he just knows it. Or he’s going to accidently flop the wrong way and send him flying through the air.
Is he hungry? He only ate two of the pasta off Katsuki’s plate at dinner, but, he supposed, Izuku’s belly was the size of a water cap at the moment.
Tomorrow, the quirk is supposed to end tomorrow. They can just hole up at home, Katsuki can place him carefully on the kitchen island as he cooks. Maybe put him in a shoebox so he can’t escape and stumble about underfoot, a green fluffy mouse.
He thinks about actually letting Izuku do what he wants with his dick. What if he fucks too hard, what if he thrusts and breaks one of Deku’s ribs, what if he lets his cock lay atop the man and he suffocates?
Tiny limbs, all tight around him. He could use him as a cocksleeve if he’s very gentle. Deku would probably like it.
But Deku didn’t have the same sense of self-preservation normal people do.
And he was a kinky little fuck.
Katsuki stewed in his worries, half luxuriating in his recent orgasm and half bemoaning the fact he didn’t get to actually fuck.
“Kacchan,” Izuku whispers then, “I have to pee.”
That makes Katsuki’s think of his lover drowning in the toilet bowl, and he breaks into snorting, ugly laughter.
…
..
.