Chapter Text
They don’t find the villain, but they do manage to get out of that shitty room and find Katsuki’s phone to call for backup.
Katsuki is, uh, messy and half-naked. It’s not the best state to be in, surrounded by asshole cops.
He sticks close to Aizawa, who seems more than willing to shield him from public view till Katsuki can clean up in the bathroom and get some fucking pants.
It turns out there’s a whole bunch of paperwork involved in this typa shit. Katsuki wasn’t aware fuck-or-die quirks were common enough to have their own procedures. He wonders if that’s something they’re gonna cover at UA.
It’s late by the time they leave the police station. Traffic isn’t awful. It’s slower, but Katsuki’s grateful he doesn’t have to take the train. He’s fucking tired.
Aizawa’s been avoiding eye-contact and looking all uncomfortable ever since he, you know, came inside Katsuki. Honestly, it’s getting fucking annoying.
“I wasn’t a fucking virgin. If that’s what you’re feeling all guilty about.” Katsuki says casually. “And I’m glad it was you and not someone shitty.”
“Oh.” Aizawa replies, eyes wide, glancing across at Katsuki, briefly.
The red from the stop light shines off his eyes, almost glowing like they do when he uses his quirk. Green comes back to ruin the illusion.
Aizawa drives ahead, quiet. He breathes out a sigh, jaw clenching before he speaks again. “I know it was necessary, but I can’t help but feel—”
“Oh fuck off.” Katsuki snorts, interrupting him easily. “You didn’t do shit wrong. You fucking saved me.”
“Yes, but you are my student, and you were in a terrible position that took away your ability to consent. I understand if you feel upset about it.”
“I thought the position was pretty good, honestly.”
“Bakugou, I’m serious.”
“I know, but you’re being fucking stupid. And I don’t feel upset about it.” Katsuki says, scowling. “Besides, it took away both of our abilities to consent. You kinda had to fuck me ‘cause you’re a fucking hero and a good person. ‘S not like you were gonna just let me die when you’ve got a perfectly good cure.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Aizawa replies after a long pause. It’s not much, but his grip loosens on the wheel, shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly.
“Of course I’m fucking right.” Katsuki snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s still wearing Aizawa’s shirt. The bomb squad took all their other clothing. Katsuki might have refused to take his shirt off.
Who gives a shit anyway? He has detergent that neutralises nitro for a reason.
He wants to keep the shirt. So what? He just didn’t want the fucking cops to see his tits. It’s not weird or anything. It’s not like he’s keeping it because it’s Aizawa’s shirt.
Katsuki clears his throat. “Anyway, I meant what I said. Better you than some shitty extra. You did a pretty fucking good job, too.”
“Admittedly not my best work.” Aizawa hums.
Katsuki blinks, an incredulous grin stretching across his face. “You did not just fucking say that.”
Holy shit, Aizawa’s smiling. Like a normal person, too. Not that insane grin he does when he’s about to make the class do some fucked up training exercise. It’s hot.
Katsuki looks away, watches the city shift passed through the window, and keeps grinning because he can’t fucking stop.
Shit. He might have a problem.
He wants to fuck his teacher. Again. But for real, this time.
He wants Aizawa to pull over and let Katsuki ride him in the driver’s seat. He wants Aizawa to bend him over the front of the car and fuck him so hard they dent the hood.
He wants to lean over and suck Aizawa’s cock while he’s driving like dumbasses do in movies, ‘cept without the part where they crash and die.
That’s… probably a side effect from the quirk.
Katsuki takes a deep breath, mentally tells himself to shut the fuck up, and focuses back on reality. Reality where fucking your teacher is weird and not supposed to happen. Shit.
“What am I supposed to tell the losers? They’re probably freaking out.”
“Have you spoken to any of them?”
“Yeah. There were like a thousand texts when I got my phone back,” Katsuki says, sliding it out of his pocket. “They thought I got fucking kidnapped again.”
Aizawa nods. “I informed Iida that we were involved in a villain attack but I left out the details.”
“We gotta work out our cover story, huh?”
“It is within your right to disclose what happened to whoever you want,” Aizawa sighs. “But I think it would be better for both of us to keep it private.”
“Duh.” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “No fucking way I’d tell the losers you fucked me.”
Aizawa huffs a laugh.
“No offence.” Katsuki adds belatedly.
“None taken.”
“It’s mostly the whole teacher thing. But it’s not like I tell ‘em about anyone else I fuck either.” Katsuki has no idea why he’s explaining this. A sudden urge to make sure Aizawa knows he can be discreet? Not weird at all. “Pretty sure they think I’m a prude or some shit.”
Aizawa raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “But you’re not?”
“Nah.” Katsuki smirks. “I like dick.”
“That’s surprising.”
“Hah?” Katsuki raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“I suppose you seem uninterested.” Aizawa pauses. “Compared to your classmates at least. I have overheard some things I would prefer not to know about.”
Katsuki laughs. “I just don’t talk about that shit.”
“Except now apparently.”
“You asked.” Katsuki shrugs.
Aizawa hums. “This is… highly inappropriate.”
“I’d say the part where we fucked was more inappropriate.” Katsuki replies slyly.
“Yes, but you’re still my student.”
“And you’re my teacher.” Katsuki drawls. “Doesn’t change the fact that I know what your dick feels like inside me.”
Aizawa sucks in a breath, glances over at Katsuki with a look in his eyes startlingly similar to the one he had when he was balls deep in Katsuki’s pussy.
Katsuki’s throat hitches. Fuck, he likes that look. He wants to see more.
It’s fucking stupid, and dangerous, but Katsuki very suddenly doesn’t know if he can live with the idea that Aizawa will never fuck him again.
“Wanna hear about it, Sensei?” He says, licking his lips, rubbing his thighs together in the seat. “How good it felt when you pinned me down and fucked me into the mattress?”
Aizawa groans, fingers tightening on the steering wheel for a very different reason than his earlier guilt.
The pants Aizawa is wearing are thin, made of some shitty, papery fabric. They’re the same ones the nurse staff gave Katsuki after checking him out.
They’re uncomfortable as fuck, especially since neither of them got underwear.
But Katsuki can feel the fabric sticking to the wetness between his legs, and when he looks over, he can see the outline of Aizawa’s cock— half hard and so fucking big.
“Not your best work, right?” Katsuki breathes. “You can do better?”
“Bakugou…”
“Prove it, Sensei. Fu—”
“Bakugou, stop.” Aizawa snaps, and the shift in mood is abrupt and uncomfortable.
Shit. Katsuki shrinks back in his seat, clenches his jaw, fights back the urge to snap back— to keep pushing.
“You’re… confused.” Aizawa sighs. “Just. Get some sleep, you’ll be over this in the morning.”
“I’m not confused.” Katsuki argues, but it comes out weak and quiet.
“We don’t know much about the quirk. It could still be affecting you.”
“It’s not.”
“Bakugou.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” Katsuki grumbles. “It felt good for you too.”
“It’s sex.” Aizawa snorts. “It’s supposed to feel good.”
“But you liked fucking me. ” Katsuki says. “We’ve already done it once, why can’t we do it again?”
“We’re not having this discussion.”
“Tch. Whatever.” Katsuki crosses his arms. “Your fucking loss.”
Aizawa huffs, goes quiet.
There’s tension, and it’s not the sexy kind. Katsuki’s face burns, embarrassment abruptly catching up to him.
He just— fuck. He’s so fucking stupid.
“Sorry.” He says quietly, and there must be something in his voice because Aizawa looks back at him softer than he ever has.
“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it, kid.”
Kid. Right. Why the fuck did Katsuki think Aizawa wanted him?
Katsuki clears his throat, ignores the way the corner of his lips pull down at the edges, and acts like he’s not on the verge of tears ‘cause his teacher rejected him.
“We, uh, we still need a cover story.”
Aizawa hums, relaxing into the shift in conversation. “Any ideas?”
The class is up and waiting by the time they get back, relief warring with worry on their tired faces.
Katsuki’s skin crawls the way it always does when people dare to worry about him, but he lets Kirishima and the idiot squad crowd around him for a bit.
His therapist is obsessed with him ‘letting people in’ and allowing himself comfort and shit like that. Whatever.
He generously allows Kirishima to sling an arm over his shoulder while Aizawa relays the (altered) events to the class.
They were grocery shopping, because Katsuki is one of the few members of 2-A who buys shit they actually need instead of random junk.
Aizawa came because he doesn’t like to let them out of the dorms alone, plus he needed to shop for himself anyway.
Some dumbass villains decided to rob the store across the street, so obviously they ran in to help.
They got cornered in the weird ass bomb shelter basement, which woulda been fine, except Katsuki got hit by a time-based quirk that caused him immobilising pain until it ran out.
Aizawa rushed to help him, they got locked in behind some fucking conveniently explosion proof vault door. Blah blah… they’re fine now.
Totally normal story. Makes complete sense. Took them less than a minute to come up with considering they literally changed one detail. A pretty major detail, but still.
Aizawa says goodnight, barely glances at Katsuki, and leaves promptly.
It feels like shit… kinda. Katsuki’s fucking fine though, obviously. It’s not— they’re not like different now or anything.
Just because they fucked doesn’t mean Katsuki’s special. Aizawa probably woulda fucked any of them in that situation. It was necessary.
Aizawa isn’t into Katsuki.
He’s probably so busy that he doesn’t have time to fuck anyone. Katsuki bets that’s why he seemed so into it.
Not… not anything to do with Katsuki. There’s no way he’d wanna do it again.
Katsuki totally doesn’t care. He’s already over it, ‘cause he can get whoever the fuck he wants and getting rejected by some old guy doesn’t mean shit to him.
Fuck. Why does he feel like he just got dumped? Maybe it’s the fact that no one ever passes up on the chance to fuck him.
Maybe it’s the fact that Aizawa might be one of the only people he’s ever wanted to fuck who he actually had… some kind of relationship with.
Aizawa is someone who makes him feel safe, someone he trusts. Katsuki can count the adults he trusts on one hand with fingers to spare.
Katsuki feels like he might’ve ruined whatever respect or care Aizawa had for him.
It wasn’t much, it wasn’t like they were closer than Aizawa is with most of the other extras in class.
But… after Kamino, he started thinking that Aizawa might actually give a shit about him. Like he doesn’t see Katsuki as someone who needs to be fixed, or as an annoying brat with anger issues.
And he tried to fucking proposition him? Shit. He might be panicking, just a bit.
“Bakubro?” It’s Kirishima, staring at him with his eyebrows scrunched together and that fucking concerned look in his eyes.
“What?”
“You okay, dude? You kinda spaced out.”
“‘M fine.” Katsuki shrugs lightly, looking away. “Just tired.”
“Right!” Kirishima smiles, all sincere and relieved. “Me too. Are you hungry? Do you wanna eat something before you go to bed? I have protein bars in my—”
“Stop coddling me.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, starts towards the elevators. “I just wanna sleep.”
“Of course, bro!” Kirishima follows after him, and Katsuki is miraculously not annoyed by his company.
Kirishima is nice. He’s good. Katsuki likes being around him, even if he’ll never admit it. He thinks Kirishima knows, anyway. He’s good with all that feelings bullshit.
Usually people don’t really get Katsuki. Kirishima does, Katsuki thinks. He understands when Katsuki means shit and when he doesn’t.
Katsuki thinks Kirishima might have a crush on him, as embarrassing as that is.
He thinks about letting Kirishima fuck him, sometimes— thinks about how it would feel to have those hands on him, the bigger-than-average dick he’s seen in the locker room inside him.
But, Katsuki doesn’t like him back. Not romantically, anyway. Maybe sex isn’t a big deal to Katsuki, but Kirishima seems like the type to wait for a long term relationship, a soulmate. Katsuki can’t be that for him.
Plus, he likes the way they are. Friends. Bestfriends, if you ask Kirishima. He’s sure Kirishima will get over his crush eventually.
Kirishima hugs him in his doorway, and Katsuki lets himself hug him back because his therapist says accepting positive physical touch is a good thing and doesn’t mean he’s weak or a baby, and because Katsuki actually kinda likes it when Kirishima hugs him.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Kirishima says, when they separate. “I was really worried, bro.”
“Tch, dumbass,” Katsuki looks away. Sincerity, he thinks, will always be hard for him to handle. “‘Course I’m okay.”
Kirishima grins at him, and Katsuki shuts the door in his face.
Being alone with his thoughts might not be the best idea while Katsuki is feeling all insecure and shitty about being rejected by his however-old-Aizawa-is teacher.
Fuck. He’s being pathetic as shit right now.
He’s probably just all messed up from that shitty quirk.
He’ll get over it. It’s not like he’s in love with Aizawa or some shit. He just liked his dick and got all horny about it. No big deal. He’ll probably laugh about this shit tomorrow.
Katsuki does not get over it.
It’s been a fucking month and he’s not over it. In fact, to his ever growing horror, it might be getting worse.
He thinks he might have jinxed himself with the whole ‘not in love’ thing because he sure can’t stop thinking about Aizawa. Not just his dick too, like, his hands, and his hair, and his voice, and his stubble, and his eyes, and his forearms that one time he rolled his sleeves up in class.
Maybe he doesn’t really know shit about Aizawa’s life or his personality outside of school or basically anything about him, but the horrible, awful thing is that Katsuki wants to know.
He wants to know Aizawa. He’s just so fucking mysterious and private and shit. Katsuki’s curious. He wants to know what Aizawa’s really like, and what Aizawa likes, and what his apartment looks like, and what his bedroom—
Shit, Katsuki can’t think about that. He’s gotta focus— study. Put everything he can into beating the metaphorical shit outta Ponytail for the number one spot in academics this year.
‘Cept Aizawa’s got his hair up today and there’s this strand that keeps coming loose so he has to tuck it behind his ear, and holy shit liking someone romantically is so fucking embarrassing.
Katsuki’s never been more grateful that none of the losers in his class have telepathy quirks.
It is such fucking bullshit that Katsuki’s first ever real crush is on a grown ass adult who is completely uninterested in him. Sometimes Katsuki really wishes he liked Kirishima.
They would be a fucking cute couple.
Katsuki sighs, resists the urge to bang his head against his desk, and writes a neat bullet-point list of dumb fucking hero license regulations in his notebook, because maybe he is horrifically obsessed with his crusty teacher but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna fall behind in his class work.
Being the best is obviously more important than a stupid crush.
And Katsuki is going to destroy this fucking crush. He’s going to crush it. Into dust. And explode that dust into atoms.
He is better than this. Way better. And he refuses to spend more time and brain power fantasising about what it would be like to make Aizawa eat his cooking, or to cuddle with him on the couch, or to get fucked against a wall until it breaks or whatever.
Katsuki is going to fix this, obviously. He is going to delete it from his brain. He just needs to figure out how.
It’ll be easy.