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Shadowboxes housing a myriad of clipped newspaper articles scaled the walls, and awards and trophies from various companies and government officials covered the spaces between. Name an accomplishment someone could receive, and Katsuki had it nailed somewhere on his wall and shelves—a space that was essentially an exhibition of his entire hero career. He’d worked so hard to build up his whole being to become the greatest hero there had ever been, training day in and day out, never missing a step, a beat, a day, a second.
And he had. He truly had.
His ranking landed anywhere between number two and number nine. Usually floating toward the higher end, might he add, and he was damn proud of it. Where not seeing himself seated comfortably in the number one spot would have eaten his younger self alive, now, it didn’t hold quite the same weight to it. The public either loved or hated him or both. Some couldn’t stand his attitude and yelling; others loved it and would rather have him verbally degrade them directly to their face instead of getting his autograph.
But, he couldn’t give a flying fuck how people saw him because at the end of the day, he was fast, he was consistent, he always saved, and he always won.
Explosions were more controlled. Shots and punches landed more consistently. Precision on aerial movement improved to perfection. Rescues were a matter of him showing up.
He was the paragon of the hero he’d always dreamt of being.
But corruption made home in those on top of the world, an inevitable infection.
“Fucking hell, Deku.”
“Awww, is that all you’ve got, Kacchan? Did the other day wear you out that much?”
“Shut the hell up, you little–”
The sound of skin slapping reverberated faintly off the decorated walls of Katsuki’s study. A cacophony of low, growly grunts formed deep within Katsuki’s throat as his fingers tightened around a lithe waist, driving hips back to meet his. The streetlamp below was the only light pouring into the small space.
Here, underneath him, taking his cock better than any other person ever could, laid out, splayed across Katsuki’s desk, chest pressed to the flat surface, was his Achilles heel. A chip in his perfect persona. This stupid. Fucking. Idiot.
Deku.
Someone who was once his childhood friend. Someone who used to share the same dreams and ideals as him: to be the greatest, to win, to save, to be a light for the people. Someone Katsuki would forever have a soft spot for. No matter how much shit he did or how awful it was, no matter how fucked up he got or how much he fucked up Katsuki. He couldn’t quit him even if he fucking tried.
He’d tried, or at least he wanted to give himself that merit. Right here in this office, where Deku, who just a month ago sent explosives to major government officials, laid out for Katsuki to take on the desk where he’d sat and contemplated picking up his phone and coming clean. With what? He wasn’t sure. Divulge every vulgar detail of whatever this monstrosity was? Or, call in an anonymous tip? No matter how much he mulled it over, his hand never moved more than a twitch.
The years hadn’t been kind to Izuku. Katsuki’s fingertips trailed over the new lines of discoloration and slow-healing gashes littered all over Izuku’s body, brushing down his sides to feel a scar from a knife wound. There was a softness to his touch that didn’t quite match the thrusts that pushed the freckled man further up the office desk. Gnarled fingers, crooked like they’d been broken and healed countless times over, gripped the edges to stop from going further. He finally turned his head to the side, cheek squishing against the table, almost closing his scar-covered eye completely. His once vibrant, shining viridian irises only looked back at him coldly as his sinful lips betrayed him, open to pant out small, silent moans.
He looked so–
The years hadn’t been kind to him, and neither had Katsuki. That was something his mind made sure was well remembered.
Katsuki’s quirk manifested, and Izuku’s didn’t. It was as simple as that. Even though it wasn’t unheard of for someone to be born quirkless, Katsuki’s younger asshole self made it seem like it with how much he ostracized Izuku. He still flinched at the thought of how cruel he had been to him growing up after finding that out. Maybe it was the guilt that stopped his hand each time it wanted to reach for his phone.
They had always been inseparable. Watching bugs fight, sleepovers, playing in the creek, waiting for the next episode of All Might: the TV Series to come on, action figures held tight in hand. But everything ended after realizing that Izuku would never have a quirk soaked into his little brain.
Katsuki’s entire perspective shifted, and he couldn’t stop it from happening. A fire set ablaze in his chest to get stronger. He would be the hero of their dreams for both Deku and him. He would carry him on his back and live out their dreams because, now, Izuku was completely incapable of doing it himself. He couldn’t handle his own, couldn’t hold his own in a fight like Katsuki could, so how would he ever become a hero?
Good intentions don’t always meet their full potential. The blinding force and the overwhelming desire to achieve them could sometimes prevent the expected outcome.
Izuku wouldn’t let any of the setbacks that came from being quirkless stop him. Despite all the shortcomings Katsuki thought Izuku had, he proved otherwise. With a kid falling to the ground from a bully came Deku with a helping hand, taking the brunt of the punches. With a cat stuck in a tree came Deku scaling it to help it down, even if it clawed at his face, and he immediately fell from the branch he was perched on and landed straight on his back. Down to the moment Katsuki fell into the creek, and he stuck his hand out, stood above him, and looked down at him directly.
Katsuki knew better now, but at the time, it was soul-crushing. The straw that broke the goddamn camel’s back. He convinced himself that Deku never wanted to be a hero by his side. Had never wanted Katsuki to be his hero. Had only ever looked down on him—straight down his goddamn nose, waiting to get one over on him.
It pissed him the fuck off. Or ripped his fucking heart out. One or the other. He couldn’t fucking tell, but that left him with even more confusion. And that left him a spiraling fit— angrier and angrier.
The thoughts ate him alive day and night, and they only ramped up as they entered middle school. Those stupid fucking green eyes always looked at him expectantly, but Katsuki could swear he saw them filled with disdain. Those goddamn eyes. Those all seeing eyes that saw only Katsuki’s failure and downfall. His rage swelled and mutated every time he thought of them and threatened to burn straight out of his heart and through his chest. Something else ignited there, spreading through his veins and dripping lower, lower, lower until the only way to extinguish it was his hand pumping in the hot water of the shower. And with the unknown emotions and feelings corroding his insides, his childish resentment flourished more and more, and so did his brutality.
Izuku had come to expect his onslaught of cruelness and waves of crashing aggression and, most of the time, took the punches and jabs like he didn’t hear or feel them to begin with. But, for a reason Katsuki couldn’t even remember anymore, one infamous day brought a whole new level of belligerence. A snide remark turned into Deku trying to stand up for himself turned into a punch turned into Deku being thrown to the ground, and it all happened so fast. One second, Izuku pushed back against Katsuki, and the next he was clutching his face and screaming, squirming in agony. A snowball of fucking regret. Katsuki’s ears rang, and his eyes went in and out of focus as his brain tried to keep up. His friends made a move to run the moment a teacher could be heard making his way over, and they tugged on his arm to come with. All Katsuki could do was stare down at his palm.
Smoking.
The smell of burning skin.
Green fucking eyes blinking through fat tears.
He looked so–
How he’d spent countless nights awake and staring at the ceiling, reflecting, wishing he could take it all back. Go back and restart. Maybe Izuku wouldn’t be where he was now.
Or maybe he would but in a different circumstance.
Maybe Katsuki could have been brave enough to tell him everything he’d thought of him.
“Come on, Kacchan~. Ngh, I can barely feel you.” The fucking twerp said that but was moaning the whole goddamn time, panting after every fucking word. A sultry gaze tossed back over his shoulder, enticing him with a practiced look. His scar only made his right eye squint a bit, but the blurred outline of a handprint could still be seen, most edges flattening over time but discoloration staying.
Katsuki shook the thoughts, letting that part of his brain shut down while the pleasure built up in his gut. His hip begin to thrust harder, grabbing Deku’s hair right at the base of his skull and using it as leverage to slam in harder. The next wave of cocksure words stuck in his throat as he was choked back, but it just made him slam his hips back against Katsuki in retaliation, a staggered giggle leaving him.
His freckled ass bounced with each hit Katsuki’s hips made to it, only stopped by Katsuki’s hands gripping into the flesh. His office desk creaked and pitched forward with the force of each smack. God, Deku wrapped around him so tightly and sucked him back in each time he drew out. “Goddamn it.”
This wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Where they found themselves right now.
The only changing variable was how they got from point A to point B. An alleyway, Katsuki’s apartment, wherever Deku felt like lying and calling his safe house for the night, on top of a building, it didn’t fucking matter. Katsuki was willing to go anywhere he could get Deku.
This time around it was a text from a random jumble of numbers. Not a surprise. Since the time Deku first learned Katsuki’s number to now, he felt like he’d been contacted by every burner phone made on earth.
[Unknown Number 23:47]: can i come over :pleading_face:
Katsuki knew he didn’t even technically have to respond. He’d tried not answering before when he received his first texts, and that just ended with the same results he knew he’d get now. He looked at the time. 3, 2, 1…
A knock on the glass of his window.
Opening the blinds, yep, there he was. Floating on some hover device he’d thought up and probably put together minutes before he left to come here.
Deku crashed his lips onto his before he could even get done unlatching the window, teeth knocking together and the slight taste of iron floated across his tongue.
They rarely kissed, and it usually followed Izuku losing someone on his team. See, while Deku never gave him a chance to get close to this new version of himself, that didn’t mean Katsuki suddenly forgot everything he knew about him. Like he didn’t know him like the back of his hand, and he knew for a fact it was the same vice versa. They’d been around each other for too many years, hated each other for too long. To be able to read into each subtlety they gave off and make their own conclusion.
He knew what Deku wanted from him. To start with rough, chasing kisses and then have Katsuki completely dominate and destroy him. Probably shove down whatever pain he felt and help him pretend he was this unfeeling, cold villain he wanted so desperately to be.
Katsuki was more than willing to help silence whatever he needed to.
That was why when Deku tried to pry his hands out of his hair so he could try to get control, Katsuki immediately let go. Deku caught himself before his front could slam back down against the mahogany with a powerful slam, but Katsuki quickly sent him off kelter, deftly knocking both hands out from under him to hold against his back. Deku pushed up with his core strength alone just to be met with a strong hand scruffing the back of his neck and driving his face into the cool wood.
“Oof, what’s got you so riled up tonight? You’re being so rough.” Deku teasingly pouted out. He talked as if this wasn’t exactly what he wanted to beg for. That was part of what Deku needed, their back-and-forth, their push-and-pull. His next words were choked off as Katsuki pressed his Adam’s apple deeper into the desk.
Katsuki let him easily escape from his lazy, one-handed grip. Deku grabbed him by the wrist pulling him forward, deeper into him. A huff as the air was pushed out of him as his chest collided into Izuku’s back. But it was cut off by a sharp, pained, “Fuck!”
Blood immediately started to poke through the perfect indentations left behind by Deku’s teeth. He had the nerve to look smug, red canines and smeared lips. “Motherfucker.”
Deku just laughed, balancing on a thin line between too proud of himself and maniacal. He knew just how to get under his goddamn skin.
Katsuki ripped himself out of him, pulling a hiss out of both of them and flipped him on his back. The force caused the desk to shake, and before the breath could be pushed out of his lungs completely, Deku was already swinging his legs around Katsuki to lock his ankles behind his back, driving him forward. Katsuki immediately filled his space, catching himself so his arms bracketed Deku’s head, their mouths a breath away.
“That fucking hurt, asshole.” He managed to bring his arm up to Deku’s face, wiping the blood on his face.
“What? I thought all of your scars were made in my name,” he said with a condescending lilt.
He was so fucked in the head.
“You’ve received a number of scraps and bruises over the years. Everyone now correlates them with a victory symbol and can’t get enough of them. The one below your cheek being your most famous because of its elusiveness. Fans have come to speculate where you received it. Even the most passionate fans can’t seem to find the moment it happened in any captured fights.”
Katsuki knew exactly who gave it to him and which one of his vases he’d smashed over his goddamn head to give it to him. They never see the one across his neck where’d pushed him to the ground and pressed his dagger on his neck. Right after Katsuki had fucked his brains out, came in him, and fucking cried over how fucked it all was. How many hours Inko wasted mourning over the fucking garbage her son had become. All the wasted hours she’d spent sobbing over the filth he was now.
“From the childhood friend I lost. All of them are for him.”
That was an interview within the last few years and clearly it got under Deku’s skin because he always managed to bring it up. He grabbed Katsuki’s wrist, dragging his hand to match the scar over his eye and cheek. His exposed eye wide and empty. “I could say the same for mine, huh, Kacchan?”
Katsuki roughly forced himself back in, fucking into him fast and deep and started up a gutpunching pace. He knocked his hand out of Deku’s grasp and wrapped his fingers around the idiot’s throat to shut him up and use as leverage to keep up his brutal speed. The tailend of Katsuki’s nickname choked off but still pushed through.
Katsuki deserved it, so he stopped letting himself put up a defense a while ago. Let him say what he needed to say, and then he’d let Katsuki push him closer and closer to the edge he needed to go over. He put on this big bad front, but he’d end up huffing and puffing over his ass getting plowed by Katsuki’s cock.
“I think you know how you pissed me off this time,” Katsuki grunted to answer his previous question, now getting into a good rhythm to fuck Deku at just the right angle. Even if Deku held his noises back just to get under Katsuki’s skin, his dick told the truth as it bobbed and drooled all over his navel with every hit.
“Whaaaat? I thought it was funny.”
“Blowing up a bank is not fun and dealing with the aftermath of your dumbassery is a pain in my fucking ass.” Katsuki only paused for a brief millisecond to add. “People could have died.”
“The bank wasn’t even open yet.”
“They could have been setting up for the day. Someone could have been walking outside on the street. Anything could have happened.”
“You think I wouldn’t have scoped that out beforehand? What am I? An idiot? Actually, don’t answer that.” Deku was right. There had been no one there when his devices went off, and their design was so flawless that even the buildings touching the bank hadn’t been harmed, and neither was their structural integrity. If Deku hadn’t gone down this path, he would have been one hell of a support engineer. “Anyway, that money is insured, so did anyone even get hurt in all of this?”
“That’s not the point, and you kno- Fuck!” To shut him up, Deku decided to claw down his back. Even without seeing it, he could feel the prickles of blood seeping out and soaking into the fabric of his hero costume he still had on.
“You can’t act high and mighty like you know right from wrong when you’re about nine inches deep in one Japan’s most wanted villains.” Deku reached up, gripping the collar. “What the hell would everyone think? If they knew you were like this? That you would give everything up just to be in me? What would they think of their great big hero Dynamight?” It was like Deku was talking to himself, using the filthy truth he spewed to get himself off while it made Katsuki’s insides twist. His legs constricted and loosened to keep Katsuki’s slowed pace up.
“I hate you so fucking much.” Katsuki gritted his teeth at how good it felt. The way his walls squeezed around his cock, begging to milk him for everything he was worth, made his brain fucking float. Izuku threw his head back in laughter.
This is when Katsuki was most fucked.
He looked so–
Beautiful.
Looking down his nose at Katsuki, his smile looked menacing with how empty his once lively eyes filled with disdain. “Right back at you, Katsuki.”
He hated how Deku saying his name, even with so much venom laced in it, made his knees quake, made his heart clench with need. Hated how much truth was in everything he said. How much he’d do for Izuku at the end of the day, at the drop of a hat. He honestly always expected it to come at any point. When he asked him to do something career-ruining, life destroying. When Katsuki would battle with himself for a day tops and then falter through. He sometimes wondered what would happen if he fell for it, would Izuku let him stay by his side? Would Izuku do it all as a way to get back at him?
To shut his thoughts off, he leaned into Izuku and let his lips land on his. Izuku immediately went to deepen the kiss into their normal rough and frantic pace, but Katsuki grabbed him by the top of the hair, roughly tugging him up and momentarily stopping the onslaught of tongue and teeth. Chests pressed together, Katsuki fucked into Izuku deep and shallow, not risking pulling too far out. The grip in his hair lightened as his lips did, a slow deepening kiss that felt too vulnerable, too open.
And Izuku seemed to notice it, pausing for a second. Katsuki could feel his eyelashes hitting his cheek as he blinked in confusion, but he didn’t care and kept going, hand drifting to a freckled scarred cheek. He thumbed along the ridges getting a flinch in response at the steadied softness of it, but Izuku didn’t move away.
“I hate you so, so, so fucking much, Izuku. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” he desperately said between kisses and licks. He thought he felt Izuku’s lip quiver at hearing his name. He felt arms drape over his shoulder and pull him closer. He kept repeating his mantra into Izuku’s neck as he left trails of bites and kisses and licks and sucks. If tears threatened to peek over his waterline, he just bit harder to drown out the beating in his ears with the beautiful sounds Izuku’d make at the pain.
Why couldn’t it be different?
Izuku had already came between them from the friction between their bodies and raked his fingernails at Katsuki’s back from overstimulation. “Ka-Kacchan! Ngh!”
He fluttered around Katsuki’s cock pushing him closer and closer to his finish. “I-inside–Hngh!– Inside for fu–!” Izuku begged deep in the crook of his neck, their sweats mixing together. Katsuki didn’t need much of a push after that, quickly stuttering in him and groaning into a deep bite on his shoulder. He worked himself with a few more slow pumps before pressing his forehead into his collarbone.
Their chest rose in synchrony as they tried to catch their breath, and Katsuki’s thoughts came rushing back to him. Like they always did when this happened. He stood up pulling out too quickly, making them both flinch, and looked around for something to clean himself off, grabbing the first thing he saw.
“Hey! That’s my shirt, asshole!” Izuku chastised as he put his other leg into his pants that had been hanging off one ankle. Katsuki was already grabbing a sweatshirt he had draped on the back of his chair, which Izuku caught before it could smack him directly in the head. He mumbled out a snarky quip before putting it over his head. It was two sizes too big.
Katsuki tucked himself back into his pants he didn’t bother to button back up, already making his way to the door. “Get the hell out of here,” he said with muted emotion, not looking back. Deku let out a hushed laugh.
“Seeya, Kacchan!” Katsuki glanced back for a brief second to see Izuku standing on the edge of the window, body facing him. He sent back one two-finger salute before falling backward, arms out. Katsuki didn’t even blink twice, knowing he already had some winged henchman or some device to catch him before he could fall far.
Now, Katsuki was alone again.
He let his eyes graze around the room, now a disheveled wreck, his hand covering his mouth as he let out a dejected sigh. He picked up what few things got knocked off his desk and strewn across the floor, pausing on the framed photo laid flat neatly on his desk.
Izuku always found a moment to casually flip it down.
A worn down and torn photo of him and Izuku as kids, holding up their All Might cards, smiling big and wide for the camera.
Katsuki flipped it back down for the night and kept cleaning up.
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