Work Text:
Katsuki is surprised, when he gets into work, to find he has a message from Aizawa. He hasn’t seen the man in eight odd years, not since he graduated. Aizawa had retired from the field after the injury to his eye, so Katsuki doesn’t get a chance to see him anymore. He’s not sure what he could want.
He calls Aizawa back, unsure what to expect. When Aizawa picks up he greets him by name.
“Bakugou.”
“Aizawa-sensei,” he replies, unable to break the sensei habit. “What do you need?”
“We have a new hero history teacher,” Aizawa says. “He’s starting to teach about the war and thought it would be beneficial to the students to hear about it first hand from a veteran.” Katsuki’s not sure how he feels about that word, although he supposes it does technically describe him. “He requested you. I told him I would contact you.”
“Oh. I’ve never spoken in front of a class before.”
“Your lived experience in the war will be enough.”
“Right.”
He’s silent, thinking about it. He’s silent for so long that Aizawa finally speaks again. “Bakugou. You don’t have to do this if you can’t.”
He knows Aizawa didn’t mean it that way, but that word, can’t, immediately sets off Katsuki’s hackles. Katsuki can do anything, thank you very much. Including talking about the war where he’d died to a bunch of fucking brats.
“No, I can do it,” he says. “I was requested specifically, right? Wouldn’t want to disappoint people.”
“Of course not,” Aizawa says dryly. “Send me your schedule and we will sort out a day. Thank you, Bakugou.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki says. “Sure.”
It takes about a week before schedules line up. Katsuki takes his car and drives to U.A., waiting outside the barrier for the teacher to come let him in. Aizawa hadn’t said much about him—only that Katsuki would “know him when he saw him,” whatever the fuck that means.
He’s fiddling about on his phone when he hears someone say, “Kacchan!”
He almost doesn’t turn around. Who would be calling him that? No one has called him that since middle school. No one since—
He turns around, and his jaw hits the floor.
Midoriya Izuku is across from him, but he’s nowhere near the scrawny, crybaby nerd Katsuki had known once upon a time. His freckled face still has a hint of baby fat, but his body is all muscle. He’s shorter than Katsuki but compact, biceps big, and his thighs—bulging out of his pants, hard lines of muscle visible. His eyes are wide and shining as they look at Katsuki, and Katsuki can think only one thing: when did you get hot?
“Deku?”
Izuku grins at him. “Yeah, it’s me! How are you, Kacchan?”
Katsuki can’t seem to form words. He stutters over his tongue for a few moments before he manages to say, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m the hero history teacher!”
“You—you work at U.A.?”
“Yeah!” Katsuki is getting dizzy from all the exclamation marks. “It’s amazing—well, you know I always wanted to get into it, and even if that was a pipe dream it’s surreal to be here teaching as an adult. I’m happy I ended up here after all!”
Things start clicking together. “You… you were the one who requested me.”
Izuku looks mildly embarrassed. “Well—yeah. I did admittedly use my position for personal gain.” He tilts his head and smiles. “Whoops.” Katsuki is about to ask what the hell kind of personal gain he gets out of inviting his former bully to talk to his class when Izuku says, “Oh, but we should head up! My class is unsupervised right now, who knows what trouble they’re getting into.” He flashes his badge and the barrier opens, and Katsuki has no choice but to follow him through.
Izuku leads him through the halls of U.A. It feels surreal to be back here. Everything looks smaller.
When they get to a classroom Izuku stops him. “Let me go in and introduce you,” he says. “I didn’t tell them which Pro was coming, I think they’re going to be excited to see you. Come in when I call, okay?”
Katsuki can only nod. He hides out of the way so no one can see him through the door and watches as Izuku walks into his classroom.
“Okay everyone!” Katsuki can hear him say. “I’m back, time to settle down.” Katsuki is impressed to hear that they do seem to settle down. Izuku has good control over his class. “Now you all know I was trying to get someone who took part in the war to speak to you all for some first hand experience, and I’m happy to say we have a very special guest today. Everyone please welcome Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!”
Katsuki walks into the classroom to thunderous applause and yelling. Izuku lets this go on for a few moments before he puts up his hands and says, voice loud to be heard over the students, “Okay, everyone, calm down.”
Once again, everyone settles. Katsuki is impressed. He remembers how difficult it was for Aizawa to control his class, how he’d needed to use his quirk often to get them to behave. Izuku doesn’t have a quirk to rely on, but it appears he doesn’t need one. He can control his class just as well without it.
“Thank you,” Izuku says when everyone quiets down. “Dynamight is here to answer your questions, but I will remind you to be respectful. I will nix any question I deem inappropriate, and detention may well be in your future if you keep it up. Understood?”
A chorus of yes, sensei, spreads through the room. Katsuki is feeling some type of way.
He stands up for about forty-five minutes answering questions. No one asks anything weird or untoward, and they all hang on every word he says as he recounts what it was like to fight and answers what they want to know. A lot of it is about his quirk and the way it works, and he’s happy to demonstrate. Everyone watches him with wide eyes—including Izuku, who has the same look on his face as he used to when they were kids.
Eventually Izuku claps his hands. “Wow, thank you so much Dynamight! That was very informative, and we thank you so much for all that you’ve done and continue to do to keep us safe.” The bell rings, and everyone starts getting up. “Don’t forget about your homework!”
Everyone hurries out of the room, leaving Katsuki and Izuku by themselves. Izuku shakes his head. “No matter how much they like the lesson, they still run out of the room like it’s on fire.”
“Deku,” he says, turning to him. “I don’t understand.”
Izuku tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“You asked for me specifically. I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to not understand? Is it so surprising that I might have wanted to use our history to impress my students?” This last bit is said a little teasingly, but when Katsuki doesn’t respond to it he goes back to being serious. “Are you… mad?”
“What? Am I… Deku, after everything I did to you, why would you even want to see me again?”
Understanding crosses Izuku’s face. “Oh, Kacchan… all that stuff is behind us. You’re a much different person now, I’ve seen it. I forgave you for that a long time ago.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Katsuki says. “I haven’t even—” he stops before he bows down low. “Izuku. I’m sorry for everything I did to you.”
“Kacchan,” he says, but Katsuki is still bowing. “Kacchan, look at me, please?”
He stands up straight. Izuku is smiling softly at him. “Thank you for that, Kacchan. I really appreciate it.”
“I should have told you a long time ago,” he says hoarsely.
“It’s okay, Kacchan. Like I said, I’ve seen the man you are. You’re the hero you always said you would be! I know you’re not that kid anymore. But,” he adds, and that teasing look is back. “If you really want to make it up to me, I’m sure my kids would love to have you back for another guest lecture sometime.”
“And what about you?” Katsuki asks, stepping closer so he’s looming over Izuku. “What would you like?”
Izuku grins at him. There’s something sharp in it that never used to be there. “Stick around and find out.”
Katsuki continues to go speak in Izuku’s class, enough that the kids start getting to know him and are a little less starstruck. And all the while Izuku and him get closer, just like they were when they were kids—with a little added tension.
Katsuki wants him. Katsuki really wants him, and he doesn’t think he’s being subtle about that fact. He’s pretty sure Izuku wants him too, if he’s reading things correctly. Katsuki doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience in this situation, but something about Izuku’s smile and lingering touches tell him he’s on the right track.
Today he’s waiting for Izuku after another talk he’d given to his class so Katsuki can drive him home. Izuku is bustling about his classroom putting things away and finishing up odds and ends, and Katsuki is just idly scrolling his phone when Izuku calls for him.
“Kacchan,” he says, pouting slightly. “Don’t make fun of me, but I can’t reach.”
Katsuki looks up to see Izuku standing at a shelf on the back wall; he wants something from the top shelf and can’t quite make it. Katsuki grins like a shark.
“Poor little baby can’t reach the shelf,” he says teasingly. Izuku glares.
“Kacchan!”
Katsuki cackles as he heads over to help, grabbing a textbook from the top of the shelf. He looks down to give it to Izuku and finds him close; very close. Izuku’s eyes widen at the proximity, but he doesn’t move away.
“Kacchan,” he says, very softly. And Katsuki is tired of beating around the bush. He leans down to kiss him.
Izuku kisses back immediately, arms coming to wrap around Katsuki’s neck. His mouth almost immediately opens beneath Katsuki’s, who takes quick advantage with his tongue. The textbook drops. One hand finds the back of Izuku’s neck while the other settles on his waist, scrunching up the fabric of his suit with his gloved hands.
They don’t stop. Katsuki shoves him against the wall and kisses him desperately and hungrily, and Izuku tugs at his uniform straps, slipping his hands beneath. Katsuki bites down on his lower lip and tugs, and Izuku lets out a moan that reverberates through Katsuki’s head.
“Kacchan,” Izuku mutters into his mouth. “I want you.” His hand slips down to Katsuki’s waistband, fingers slipping inside, and Katsuki almost bangs their heads together with how quickly he nods.
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “Yeah, Izuku.”
Izuku pushes away from the wall and starts walking Katsuki backwards. He bangs his hip on a few desks, but Izuku is actually pretty good at maneuvering him through the room. He moves them all the way to his desk, and then he pushes Katsuki down onto his desk chair.
“Sit down, Kacchan,” he says, using what Katsuki can only describe as a teacher voice. It’s doing things to him. “I want to go down on you.”
“Fuck,” Katsuki says. “At least lock the door.”
“Oh, yeah,” Izuku says. “Good idea, Kacchan.” He darts across the room and turns the lock on the door before he hurries back over, a grin on his handsome face. He leans down to kiss Katsuki again before he drops down to his knees. His hands come to Katsuki’s waist, and he tugs at his pants. “Lift your hips for me, Kacchan,” he says, and Katsuki does as he’s asked. Izuku slips off his pants and his underwear in one go, pulling him forward slightly so his ass is hanging off the chair, spreading his legs for Izuku’s consumption.
Izuku lets out a breath, a thumb coming up to rub through Katsuki’s sex. “So wet, Kacchan,” he says, awe in his voice. “Is this for me?”
“Izuku,” he says, voice shaky. Izuku grins up at him before he leans in to press his face in the crease of Katsuki’s thigh, inhaling deeply. Then he moves, leaning in to lick between Katsuki’s folds, tongue swirling around his dick. Katsuki thunks his head back against the headrest of the chair, as Izuku lifts Katsuki’s legs over his shoulders.
Izuku eats him out with gusto, tongue alternating between Katsuki’s dick and pushing inside him. Katsuki grips Izuku’s hair and keeps his voice low, even though he wants to moan, wants to scream as Izuku eats him out. But he keeps one hand in Izuku’s hair and the other over his mouth so he doesn’t alert anybody to the fact that they’re doing this in a goddamn classroom at U.A., legs shaking where they’re slung over Izuku’s broad shoulders.
When Katsuki comes he squeaks, which would be embarrassing if he wasn’t currently having the best orgasm of his entire life. His thighs tighten around Izuku’s head, and he moans into Katsuki’s sex as Katsuki comes undone above him.
Izuku finally pulls away when Katsuki releases him, wiping his wet mouth with the back of his hand and looking up at Katsuki like the cat who caught the canary.
“Kacchan,” he says, still kneeling between Katsuki’s legs. “I want to fuck you. I really want to fuck you. But I can’t do it here. Can we go to my place? Please?”
Katsuki is too eager himself to feel proud over the fact that Izuku is begging for him. “My place,” is what he says. “I live closer.”
Izuku stands up and hauls Katsuki to his feet. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” Katsuki reaches out and smooths down Izuku’s hair where Katsuki had been running his hand through it. Izuku gives him a smile that has Katsuki’s heart stuttering in his chest.
“Let’s go,” he says, and Izuku nods, leading Katsuki out of the room.
They don’t run into anyone on the way down to Katsuki’s car, thank God. Katsuki unlocks the door and gets in, waiting for Izuku to get buckled up before he leaves. He has to fight with himself not to speed as he makes his way home, constantly looking over at Izuku, who is always looking back at him too.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Kacchan,” he says teasingly. Katsuki reaches out to put a hand on Izuku’s thick thigh, squeezing the flesh of it as he pushes the pedal down harder.
He finally gets to his condo, parking haphazardly and nearly tearing off his seatbelt. Izuku chuckles under his breath and follows at a much more contained pace, but Katsuki can’t bring himself to be ashamed of his eagerness. He’s thinking about Izuku and his cock and how it will feel inside of him. He’s thinking about how much he wants him, and how much he’s wanted in return. He’s thinking about the last time he felt like this about anybody, and is coming up blank.
He leads Izuku up to the top floor where he lives, smug when Izuku stares around him with an impressed look on his face. “Wow, Kacchan,” he says. “This is so nice.”
“Hero work pays,” Katsuki says, shutting the door behind them and shoving off his shoes. “Now take your clothes off.”
Izuku grins at him. “I don’t get a tour?”
“Later,” Katsuki all but growls.
“At least show me the bedroom, Kacchan. I don’t want to fuck you on the floor.”
Katsuki can agree to that. He grabs Izuku’s hand and tugs him throughout the apartment, shoving him into his bedroom before he immediately starts undoing his uniform. Izuku does the same, hands coming up to undo the buttons on his suit, shrugging out of his jacket before he does the same with the dress shirt underneath. Piece by piece their clothes end up in a heap on the floor, until the two of them are standing naked across from each other. Izuku’s cock is hard and at attention between his legs; Katsuki’s thighs are stained with slick.
They meet in the middle in a clash, lips clanging together in a way that’s almost painful. Katsuki cups Izuku’s cheeks as he drags him up to meet him, tongue delving into his mouth in a hurry. Izuku kisses him back with the same fervor, pushing Katsuki towards the bed until they both tumble down onto it. Katsuki lands on his back with Izuku crawling over him, hands greedy on each other’s bodies as Izuku’s hard cock drags against Katsuki’s core. It’s tantalizingly close to where Katsuki wants him and he groans, spreading his legs more.
Izuku swears and pulls back. “Condoms?” he asks, no doubt asking where they are, but Katsuki takes it a different way.
“Not unless you really want to,” he says, and Izuku’s eyes widen, his pupils blown.
“Really, Kacchan? You’re fine with that?”
“Want you in me,” Katsuki says firmly. “Want to feel you.”
Izuku swears again. It sounds funny coming from his mouth. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning in to kiss Katsuki again. “Shit, okay.”
“Come on,” Katsuki urges, as Izuku pulls back and grabs the base of his cock. He swipes it through Katsuki’s wetness, getting it slicked up as he teases, and Katsuki throws his head back as he clenches around nothing. “Izuku.”
Finally, Izuku brings the head of his cock to Katsuki’s hole, groaning as he pushes slowly inside. It’s an easy slide with how wet Katsuki is, even as he stretches around the thick head of Izuku’s cock, and Izuku goes slowly as he pushes inside him. He fucks into Katsuki at a steady pace until he’s bottomed out, hips pressed to hips, and Katsuki gasps as he grapples at Izuku, nails digging into shoulder blades as he’s shoved up the bed.
“More,” he gasps out. “Harder.”
Izuku listens. His hands find Katsuki’s waist as he drags him onto his cock over and over, pounding into him and making Katsuki cry out. Izuku fills him perfectly, thick cock spearing Katsuki open, the wet glide of it smooth as Izuku takes and takes and takes. Katsuki is leaving crescent shapes in the skin of Izuku’s back as his nails dig in, head thrown back and throat laid bare as he’s fucked. Izuku swoops in to bite and suck at the unblemished skin there, and Katsuki dearly hopes he leaves a mark where everyone can see. He wants to wear Izuku proudly on his body, wants the world to see. He is Bakugou Kacchan, and they belong to one another.
He’s not embarrassed by the depth of his feelings. They feel right in a way nothing else ever has. Maybe Izuku was always meant to be a part of his life. Maybe they just got lost along the way.
Orgasm is building up in Katsuki’s gut, and he pulls Izuku down for a sloppy, messy kiss as he’s fucked, as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He’s panting into Izuku’s open mouth, gasping his name, ramming his hips down on Izuku’s cock as it builds and builds and builds. He hasn’t even touched himself; Izuku inside him is enough.
When Katsuki comes he screams Izuku’s name, entire body tensing up before it releases all at once. He tightens up around Izuku’s cock, who moans as he chases his own orgasm, fucking into Katsuki’s limp body with no rhyme or rhythm, just a frantic chase for his own pleasure.
“Kacchan,” he says, fingers still digging bruises into Katsuki’s hips. “Kacchan, can I come on your chest?”
“Pervert,” Katsuki admonishes. “Go ahead.”
Izuku groans and pulls out, shifting up the bed so he’s straddling Katsuki’s waist. He grips his cock with his hand and jerks himself off until he finishes on Katsuki’s chest, cum spurting from his dick and landing on Katsuki’s pecs and nipples. Izuku throws his head back as he comes, hand a blur on his cock as he milks every last drop, until it’s all spread across Katsuki’s chest. Only then does he drop beside Katsuki on the bed, turning into him as he pants and tries to catch his breath. Katsuki does the same, heart beating frantically in his cum-covered chest as he fights to breathe.
“Give me a minute,” Izuku says breathlessly. “And then I’ll clean you up.” He slings an arm around Katsuki’s stomach and Katsuki twines their fingers together, Izuku’s face pressed into his shoulder. He plants a kiss there, and Katsuki’s heart skips a beat.
They lay there for a few minutes until their breathing evens out, until their hearts calm down. Izuku presses another kiss to Katsuki’s shoulder before he unwinds himself from Katsuki and gets up. “Where are your towels, Kacchan?”
“Bathroom,” Katsuki says, and Izuku disappears, reappearing a few moments later with a wet hand towel that he uses to wipe down Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki could very easily have done it himself, but for some reason he lets himself be doted on. It feels nice to have Izuku take care of him. Katsuki can’t remember the last time someone else took care of him. He can’t remember the last time he let them.
When Izuku is done he throws the towel into the laundry and crawls back into bed. Katsuki curls around him, pulling Izuku to his chest, and Izuku goes gratefully, cuddling into him.
“That was really good, Kacchan,” he says. Katsuki grunts his agreement. Izuku’s hair is tickling his chin, and he runs a hand through it, smoothing it down. Izuku sighs happily and snuggles in closer. “Can we do it again?”
“Like tonight, or in general?”
Izuku giggles. “Both.”
“Yes,” Katsuki says. “To both.”
When Izuku next speaks, his voice is uncharacteristically timid. “Kacchan. Do you want to, um, maybe go out with me, too?”
Katsuki rolls them so he’s hovering on top of Izuku, looking down at him seriously. “If you think you’re getting away from me after that you’re sorely fucking mistaken.”
Izuku beams up at him. “Oh, good. I was worried.”
“Stupid,” he says. “Why do you think I keep offering to speak in your class?”
“I assumed you were concerned about the future of our nation’s youth,” Izuku says seriously. Katsuki looks at him before they both burst out laughing. He flops over to the side and curls around Izuku again.
“Fuckhead,” he says fondly. “Are you hungry? I can make you dinner.”
Izuku gasps. “Dinner made by Kacchan! I would love that.”
“You can borrow a shirt if you want. So you don’t have to put your suit back on.”
A few moments later sees Izuku wearing just his boxers and an old t-shirt of Katsuki’s. It hangs off of him, and Katsuki is feeling some type of way at seeing Izuku in his clothes. He can’t help but kiss him, holding his face as he pours all his raw emotion into it.
“Thank you for being a weirdo and requesting me to speak to your class,” he says against Izuku’s mouth, who laughs.
“Thank you for agreeing,” he says, not disputing the weirdo part. Katsuki thinks he might just be in love.
“Come on,” he says, because he’s liable to rip off Izuku’s clothes again if they stay in the bedroom for much longer. “I’m hungry.” He throws on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top and together they head out to the kitchen, where Izuku sets himself up at the kitchen island and watches as Katsuki putters around. Izuku watches him with his chin on his hand, and when Katsuki serves him dinner he grins at him in such a way that Katsuki feels weak with it. They eat on the couch while watching an old All Might movie from their childhood, and Izuku mouths along with all the words, and Katsuki watches this with his heart in his throat. Izuku catches him looking and smiles, and Katsuki smiles back; and Katsuki knows, then, that he’s definitely in love.
It’s a secret he’ll keep for now. For now he watches Izuku’s face light up as the animated All Might beats the villain, and Katsuki knows without a doubt that there was never going to be anybody else for him.