Archive of Our Own

One glance at the clock tells him he needs to wrap his lecture up.

“Oh, it’s been ninety minutes already… Alright, guys! Thanks for listening today. Please share your assignments in the digital course for me to see so I can take a look at your fantastic essays. Have a nice weekend!” Izuku smiles, leaning back against the desk.

Lately, he’s been unfocused.

He forgets what he’s been saying mid lecture, he loses track of time. Sometimes, even the students have to correct him on information. He loves his job, he truly does! Being a teacher is what fulfills him. He is very convinced that you’re not really working if you love your job. And sometimes he feels like time just flies. He enjoys helping his students choose their own designated paths, loves to meet up with his colleagues, and loves to ramble about the stuff he cares about. It’s the perfect job for him and he never once regretted applying at the university as a lecturer.

Although it also had its down sides. Even though he wasn’t a school teacher, his students did rely on him. He still felt responsible for every person sitting in his lecture. They opened up to him when there was stuff going on at home, their essays gained a specific kind of depth over time.

When Izuku first started, everything was new.

He was barely older than the learners in his lectures. It was easy to not get taken seriously. He was more a friend than a teacher, really. But that was 20 years ago. Now, they respect him just a little bit more. Sometimes he wonders if they laugh at his puns because he’s their teacher or because they really think he’s funny, but he won’t let his mind consume thoughts like this. He doesn’t wish to have a close relationship to his students, not closer than it already is. Weird enough to catch them drinking in the same bar as him on a Monday evening even though lecture starts on Tuesday at eight.

His students knock their fists and knuckles against the wooden tables a few times. A sign of respect at universities, Izuku had learned. A thank you for teaching us. It was nice to know that there was always a full room of people wanting to learn from him. It felt good.

“Oh, and don’t forget, if you have any concerns about the grade you received on your last essay, do not hesitate to just stay a little longer so we can figure it out together!” He smiles softly, nodding as a goodbye when the students pack their things and leave the lecture hall. The muttering breaks out within seconds: students talking about what to have for lunch, what to do on the weekends and when to take their next commute back home.

Izuku waits until most of the chattering disappears through the heavy lecture-hall doors before letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The hall settles into silence, only the faint hum of the projector cooling down filling the space. He presses both palms against the edge of the desk and gently pushes himself upright.

His back pops.

Not loudly, just enough to remind him he’s no longer the 24-year-old who first stepped into a lecture hall pretending he wasn’t terrified. He chuckles at himself and brushes nonexistent chalk dust off his trousers out of habit. His glasses slip halfway down his nose as he moves, and he nudges them back up with the side of his thumb while heading toward the chair tucked behind the desk.

The leather seat sighs when he sits, and he mirrors it. A stack of essays waits for him, clipped neatly, names written in hurried student handwriting. Some pages are already decorated in his green ink. Encouragements, thoughtful questions, the occasional star doodle when someone said something particularly clever.

“Alright,” he murmurs, rolling his shoulders as he pulls the next paper toward him, “let’s see what you’ve got for me.” He uncaps his pen. It sputters once before the ink smooths out, and he tightens his grip. His glasses slip again, of course they do, and he pushes them back up without looking, already scanning the first paragraph.

He’s halfway through the second essay when the door creaks open again. Izuku doesn’t look up immediately. Students often forget their water bottles or scarves, but the heavy, familiar footsteps make him blink and lift his head. 

Katsuki strides inside, expression carved somewhere between irritated and deeply offended. His backpack is slung over one shoulder, the zipper half open like he left in a hurry.

Oh boy.

“Sensei,” Katsuki says flatly. He rarely uses Professor Midoriya when they’re alone. Only when he’s really mad, or trying to be polite. This is neither. Izuku adjusts his glasses again, a nervous habit. He sets down his pen. “Bakugou. Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki snaps, stopping right in front of the desk and planting both hands on it, leaning in. “I forgot why you suddenly hate me.” Izuku blinks. “…What?” Katsuki slaps a paper down in front of him. Izuku recognizes his handwriting instantly. The essay that had been almost perfect. Almost. A bright green A sits at the top. Not an A+.

Izuku exhales slowly. “Bakugou,” he says kindly, “an A is an excellent grade-” “It’s not an A+,” Katsuki interrupts, pointing accusingly at the offending letter as if it had personally insulted him. “I busted my ass on this! I stayed up until four working on the conclusion! I reread that stupid article you love, the one with the graphs that make my eyes bleed-” Izuku bites back a smile. “They’re not stupid articles. And your essay was very strong. You made a compelling argument, but you didn’t cite the primary source in the last section. That’s the only reason it wasn’t-” Katsuki groans in frustration before he can finish, running a hand through his hair. “That stupid source! I knew I forgot something. I knew it!” 

Izuku tilts his head sympathetically. “It happens. You still did incredibly well.”

“‘Incredibly well’ isn’t the same as perfect,” Katsuki mutters, arms crossing tightly as he glares at the A like he’s trying to intimidate it into shape-shifting. Izuku folds his hands together on the desk. “If it means that much to you, you can revise the citation and resubmit it. I’ll look over it again.”

Katsuki pauses. The irritation falters just slightly. “You’d… let me fix it?” Izuku smiles softly. “Of course. You care about the material. That’s worth encouraging.” Katsuki’s ears turn faintly pink, just a little, before he scowls again, more out of habit than real anger. “Fine. Good. I’ll redo the stupid citation.” He grabs the paper again, rolling it up like a battle flag, and turns toward the door.

Izuku calls after him, “Katsuki?” Katsuki stops. “You wrote a beautiful essay,” Izuku says gently. “A+ or not.” A beat. Katsuki grumbles something that sounds vaguely like thank you but I still deserved an A+ and marches out of the lecture hall. Izuku chuckles under his breath and returns to his grading, glasses sliding down once more. 

This is the thing with getting close and having responsibility. He respects his students and their want to learn and stay educated. He encourages it the best he can. But Katsuki…

“Midoriya, we need you to cover the linguistics course this semester.” Izuku sat on a chair across from his principal, feeling like a little kid all over again. “Me? But I already have-“ “You already teach American history and literature,” she interrupts him with a nod. “I am well aware. But a lot of students signed up for linguistics this semester. Without the course, they won’t be able to write the exam. Besides, you already teach English. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It is! I haven’t looked into linguistics yet. There’s a lot more depth to it. Allomorphs, Phonetics, Morphology in general!” She looks unimpressed, blinking at him once. “You are aware of your paychecks?” She says before the silence grows uncomfortable. So, he sighs defeatedly. A bigger paycheck would be nice. Not that he lives at the minimum, he can afford good stuff with his salary after all, and has a nice little apartment in town. “Okay, I will prepare myself for the course,” he mumbles with a soft nod. “Excellent!”

So this is how he got shoved into an entirely new course even he wasn’t all too familiar with. Izuku can never really get used to the faces. Every semester there’s different people sitting in his lectures, he makes extra efforts at home to memorize their names in front to backseat order. That shouldn’t be necessary. Every normal lecturer doesn’t care. They just talk for ninety minutes and then go on break. Izuku thinks that sometimes, he cares way too much.

And he began to care even more when Katsuki Bakugou joined his class. His crimson eyes burnt holes into him every time he presented a new topic, every time he talked. He is aware that all of his students keep their eyes on him, but Katsuki is just… different. He always sits in the same place, second front row, lips pressed into a thin line, never scribbling any notes, never asking any questions. He is just there. And he’s stubborn. 

Whenever Izuku mentions group assignments, Katsuki rolls his eyes just slightly and without even noticing it at first, Izuku had started turning group assignments into single assignments just to see a pleased look on Bakugou’s face. Maybe, unconsciously, Katsuki had become his favorite student and that was not fair to anybody else.

Their first interaction had been via their shared university cloud where Izuku could leave comments on his students' work. Cryptic, safe, easy. Only meant to be seen for those addressed. And Katsuki’s first essay blew Izuku away. His writing style and vocabulary was beyond anything he had ever seen in fresh students. His citation was on point and he even quoted some of Izuku’s favorite professors, so he only did what was right.

Great essay, Bakugou! Your way of handling words is incredible. I am very proud of you, keep up the good work!

That stuff was alright. It didn’t cross any borders or come off strong. Just a professor checking over his student’s work. But then, eventually, the line of appropriate and not so began to blur.

Thanks, Sensei. I liked the joke about renowned linguists you made today.

Izuku’s heart stilled. He shouldn’t be replying back. Hell, Katsuki shouldn’t even be answering his notes.

You did? That’s great! I didn’t think anyone would get it.

He presses send before he can stop himself. It’s already late. He should get off the computer anyway. But then-

Well, I did. Think you’re funny. Have you ever heard of this one? [1 (one) Image attached]

Izuku gulps. The screen is mostly white. It hurts his eyes but he just can’t stop staring. The blue text is underlined, he just needs to click on it. He shouldn’t.

He does. And suddenly he bursts out laughing in front of the screen. He lets out a few bwahahhah-s, his abs clenching underneath the white shirt he’s wearing. His back leans against the back of his comfortable couch as he still snickers to himself.

You got it?

Yes! I did. It’s very funny!

He types, still giggling to himself.

Good, I’ve never been a big fan of linguistics.

Fuck, Izuku, don’t!

Oh? Why’s that?

Boring.

Fair, scanning through textbooks and Wikipedia sources to be able to teach it wasn’t that much fun either.

But you like teaching?

Very much so!

I like your teaching too, Sensei.

Green brows furrow as he reads the text. The laughing comes to a halt. He nibbles on the skin of his bottom lip, gently ripping and pulling some cells open.

Thank you, Bakugou.

Call me Katsuki.

Izuku doesn’t. He still addresses him with the formalities as they begin to chat a little everytime Katsuki hands in his work online. And sometimes, Izuku looks forward to it. He knows he shouldn’t, but the thought of Katsuki just creeps into his mind every time he does literally anything.

Nice work, just as always!

It’s 2am. Why are you still up?

Oh, I could ask you the same question!

Just saw the notification.

You should go to sleep, don’t you have a course tomorrow morning?

Nah. My day’s clear tomorrow.

Well, that’s good for you. Enjoy it!

Got a ticket for that meet and sign tomorrow. Of that one author.

Oh! For Toshinori Yagi? How exciting. Have fun!

Got a spare ticket. Come with me.

Izuku nearly doubles over in the chair he’s been squirming in. He really needs to invest into a better work stool. He types. Then deletes it again. Then he types again. He can’t be seen with his students outside of work.

? Won’t tell anyone. Besides, it’s not like it’s private or anything. You could’ve just bumped into me there randomly anyways.

He has a point. Izuku does have a few free periods tomorrow. And he really, really wants to see his favorite author. And Katsuki is funny. Getting to know your students is not a crime, after all.

Okay, I will come along.

Alr. 3pm at the coffee shop in town.

Coffee shop?

Katsuki doesn’t answer after that. He must’ve fallen asleep. And Izuku should go to bed too. So he does just that, even though the meeting tomorrow stirs up in his mind once a while. After a couple more minutes resting his eyes, he dozes off.

The next day goes on like usual. He holds speeches in front of his colleagues about new learning methods, teaches some courses and grabs lunch at their cafeteria. He clocks out at 2:30 sharp. Enough time left to fix his appearance in the bathroom mirror of the facility and walk downtown to the coffee shop.

There is no meet and sign at a coffee shop, he knows. He wonders why Katsuki wanted to meet him there.

The walk there isn’t as long as Izuku had expected. Maybe because he’s been chewing on his thoughts all along the way. He arrives at the cafe. It’s cute. Muted colors on the outside, some pastel. The bell rings when he pushes the front door open and steps inside. He’s met with soft and welcoming smiles from the workers. The chatter is moderate.

He can hear the milk steamers, plates clattering and the rush of water being filled into glasses one by one.

He’s still carrying his little, leather work bag in one hand, glasses tucked into the hem of his blouse carefully. He squints his eyes to scan the store.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls from a table in a corner. In front of him are two drinks. One that looks like a cappuccino and one that looks like a regular black coffee. He’s holding himself up, elbows propped against the wood as he stares. And just like in Izuku’s lectures, he’s not smiling. He’s not frowning either. He’s very hard to read, Izuku thinks.

In contrast, Izuku smiles softly, greeting the other as he walks toward the table and takes a seat. “Got you a black one,” the blond says, shoving the cup across the table carefully. “Ah, thank you so much!” He nods once in gratitude as he places his work case down next to his feet.

“We’ve got about 30 minutes before the meet and sign starts,” Katsuki mumbles in between his little sips. His eyes look over the edge of the porcelain every time he guides it closer to his mouth. Again, he’s staring. “Thank you for taking me with. That’s really nice of you, Bakugou.” He earns a grunt from the other, hand swaying in the air. “Yeah, yeah, I told you to stop calling me that.” “I can’t-“ “We’re not on university grounds anymore. No need for professionalism.” Izuku sips on his coffee as he sinks into the chair.

The silence grows thick as his eyes move to gaze out of the window, watching people living their lives. “Why’d you-“ His breath hitches as he tries to speak, pupils glued outside. He tries again. “Why’d you invite me here?” “You always look like you need a coffee.” He shrugs. Izuku chuckles. He’s not wrong. “Right.”

“Besides, you correct my stuff even at two in the morning. Felt like I need to give you something in return.” Izuku’s gaze shifts back to the blond man in front of him. He’s snickering. Actually chuckling into his coffee. Like he just made the funniest joke ever. He feels the heat creep up to his ears. His laugh is contagious, Izuku can’t help but follow his suit.

They end up talking all the way to the local, public library. Not once does the conversation die down. It comes naturally and Katsuki is a surprisingly good talker, not only a listener. He tells Izuku how he’s been a fan of Toshinori’s literature ever since he started middle school, how he really likes to use symbolism in his essays because his favorite author did when he was younger and how Izuku’s course in one of the only courses he can listen to without accidentally dozing off.

It’s a huge compliment coming from Katsuki. Everything he says is, actually. They talk like long friends, giggling about jokes that would be considered inside jokes if they knew each other just a little bit longer.

When they arrive in the line, Katsuki rummages in his backpack before taking out a heavy book. “Want him to sign that. Did you bring one too?” He asks, gazing slightly up at the other. “Oh! Mhm!” Izuku hums in response, opening the button of his bag with a soft click. He takes out another novel.

“Have you read that one?” Katsuki shakes his head. “I can… lend it to you, if you want to.” The blond’s lips curve just slightly before he nods.

The line moves forward quickly and soon they’re up front. Toshinori signs their books, and they both smile the same way: full of pride and adoration. Izuku tells him about how he includes his books into his lessons and Katsuki lets him know how much of an inspiration he is.

When the meet and sign is over, the sun is already setting low on the horizon. They exit the building as he cold weather catches up to them. Katsuki wraps a black shawl around his exposed neck, nuzzling into it. They stop walking at the corner of a street. “I have to go that way,” Izuku points out, chin nudging to the left. “Here.” He hands the promised novel over and Katsuki holds it with two hands. “Thanks.”

His eyes look softer now. Still sharp around the edges, but a little rounded out. The eyeliner in the corners is a little smudged. His eyes are glossed over from the wind blowing, his brows aren’t drawn that tight together anymore and his cheeks and the tip of his nose gained more color from the dropping degrees. Izuku’s heart skips a beat. He catches his breath, not even noticing the way he stopped breathing for a moment.

“Alright. Get home safe, yeah?” He blurts out too loud for a quiet moment like this and then rounds the corner without looking back.

That night was the first time Izuku got off to a student.

Everything after that meetup was no less inappropriate than the last. Meeting outside of school grounds could get Izuku fired. He knows because that night, after masturbating, he felt so guilty, he researched the rules on the university's website.

It’s not that he didn’t care about rules. If anything, he was the one who cared and followed them the most. But there was just something about Katsuki he couldn’t leave alone.

Now it’s four months after their first encounter in public. They didn’t call it meet ups. More so “I am here and you also happen to be here so we are allowed to talk.”, thinking they’re slick.

More coffee shop visits, strolls in parks, deep and long talks on the benches there. It was entertaining, really. Until it might became more than that.

Izuku sits in his office, grading papers just like always. But this time, he’s past over work time. He’s really determined to finish all of the essays tonight so he can clear his day tomorrow. It’s his friend's birthday.

The room is quiet. Apparently, if you spend enough time in this faculty, you’ll get your own room to finish your work. Which was great. A space for only him. He decorated it accordingly, with posters like You can DO! and Keep your head high! on the walls.

He trips over the same sentence in the last three minutes, rereading it til it makes sense in his mind. His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose as he holds his head up with his flat palm, scratching it on occasion.

Then, the door handle creaks. It’s being pushed down before the door opens and closes again. Izuku breathing is relaxed as he shoves his glasses back up with his index finger to see who just entered.

“Sensei.” Oh, it’s Katsuki. The frown on Izuku’s face falters, muscles relaxing as the wrinkles on his skin disappear. “Katsuki. What are you doing here? It’s late,” he asks, clicking the pen once to keep the ink from running or drying out. He watches the other carefully as he slumps into the seat across from him.

He’s wearing a black hoodie and some darkish blue pants. It looks nice on him. Anything does, really. To stop himself from forming more thoughts, he collects the papers scrambled all across the desk and taps them against the wood a few times to form a block.

“Came here to see you,” Katsuki says like he doesn’t mind, like it’s normal for students to do stuff like this. To want to see their professors after hours. Izuku inhales as he grows more comfortable in his seat as well now that he’s facing the other. “You can’t just- come here cause you want to see me,” he brings out behind his teeth and it hurts him just a bit to say it.

“Why not?” Izuku presses his lips together so hard a thin line turns white on all the pink. “You know why,” he whispers, looking back at the layer of papers laying in front of him quickly. “No, go on, tell me why not,” Katsuki challenges with a frown, leaning forward like he’s personally offended. And he probably is.

“Bakugou, I’m your professor.” Katsuki huffs, arms crossing in front of his chest with an attitude at that name and audacity. “Didn’t stop you from going out with me just last week, did it?” “I- You don’t know what you want,” Izuku says, clearing his throat to keep his composure. Then, he folds his hands and displays them on the table. 

“You should pursue someone your age.” If the words don’t hit Katsuki, they most certainly hit him. “I don’t care about them,” the blond argues, front teeth baring as he snarls. Izuku sighs. 

This was to expect. What did he think, going out with a man who’s at least twenty years younger than he is? What was going through his mind when he caught feelings? Nothing, apparently.

Izuku’s breath hitches when he feels the tip of Katsuki’s shoe graze against the seam of his pants near his ankle.

“I could be your dad,” Izuku mumbles underneath his breath, almost defeated. Like he’s doing his best to punch out words he doesn’t even want to say out loud, he doesn’t even mean. His head gently tips from side to side, as if he’s trying to shake off any inappropriate thoughts that creep into his mind. He pulls himself back from the desk, getting up from the chair before he gently folds up the sleeves of his white blouse. The top is unbuttoned, exposing a little collarbone. Katsuki’s imagination does the rest. 

“But you’re not,” Katsuki whispers underneath his breath, his red eyes gleaming with desire for the man in front of him. His gaze follows Izuku who’s now standing taller than him. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he looks down at Katsuki with a stare that shouldn’t be so intense. Yet, the blond feels his breath hitch, body running hot.

Izuku clicks his tongue once, forcing his eyes to avert from the younger man sitting across from him. He glances at the door. It’s closed. Of course it is.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Not with a man that only has about half of the experience in life that he has, not with a man that doesn’t know what he wants. He’s confused, clearly.

It’s for the best if he just walks out now. Open this door, take his belongings and leave before he gets in trouble. Before he does something he might regret, before he loses his job.

“But I could be,” he mutters again, body moving towards the exit. Katsuki is faster, though. He jumps up from his seat with light effort and before he can think, his hand grabs the other’s thick wrist to stop him. “But you’re not,” he says again as sweetly as sin, with a soft and quiet whine.

Izuku startles, eyes glaring at Katsuki’s strong hand before they move up to meet his face.

He doesn’t look desperate. He never has. Katsuki Bakugou is one of Izuku’s number one students, if not his best. He turns in the assignments in no time, without any mistakes and he has no hard time acing the surprise tests. He’s a smart student who always listens and pays attention during Izuku’s lectures. And yet, he never once begged for anything. All of this was his own hard work to earn from.

But right now Izuku secretly wished he was pleading. Imagined him on his knees, maybe nuzzling into Izuku’s clothed crotch, getting drunk on only the musk of Izuku. And maybe Katsuki does need a man to treat him right. Maybe Izuku is the only one who can show him what it’s like. To be loved by someone who is mature, not some teenager who is lucky enough to be doing group projects with Katsuki.

His eyes grow wide, shocked by his own filthy thoughts. But he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of the blond’s grip. He is stronger than him, of course. In comparison to him Katsuki seems to be lightweight. Izuku’s biceps are about twice the size of his students, not flexing, yet.

Suddenly, Katsuki leans in, pulling his wrist closer. He looks up through his beautiful blond eyelashes. Izuku had never once in his life felt so, so painfully aware of his boner. “How would you-“ Katsuki pauses to glance down between them, crotches only a few centimeters apart while their chests press together. Then, ruby red, half lidded eyes look back up again. “How would you fuck me, Sensei?” He whispers. 

The sound barely makes it past his lips before Izuku moves his right hand. It flies directly onto the blond’s waist, gripping tightly. He earns a soft moan in reward.

All of Izuku’s principles and morals are thrown out of the window when Katsuki touches him. He presses the other closed, letting Katsuki feel the hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. Izuku leans down ever so slightly, his warm breath hitting the blond’s ear. “I’d make you beg for it,” he sighs into his ear.

Bakugou tests the waters, grinding against his crotch with his own before Izuku moves his leg. He prompts it up at an angle so Katsuki can properly grind against his thigh. His hand loosens the grip around his wrist, getting a hold of his blouse. His forehead sinks and rests against his broad chest while his hips stutter against Izuku’s leg. “More,” he grits out.

“I’d boss you around. You like that? When I tell you what to do? How to open yourself up till you’re nice and loose for me?” The blond quivers, whole body twitching at the stimulation. Izuku’s other hand finds its way to the other side of his hip, guiding him back and forth.

“I bet you’d be so tight for me, wouldn’t you? Perfect hole for me to use.” Every word he gets out is filthier than the last. Katsuki fists his blouse, eyes squeezing shut. He can feel his own cock leaning against his pants. “I’d make you feel so good, you’d never want to fuck anybody else. Just me, yeah? Just your Sensei?”

Katsuki sighs, the fabric of his pants already damp. “Yes, Sensei!” He whimpers into his chest. All the heat rushes to his dick, leaving his brain dysfunctional. His cheeks are hot, and he lets out another soft moan as Izuku angles his hips just right. “I would make you cum over and over. Fill you up so good, ‘s that what you want? Be a good student for me?” The warmth brushes Katsuki’s cheek, ringing through his whole body.

That’s all it takes. His body jerks as he curls into himself even more and cums into his pants, abs clenching with every spurt of cum seeping through his boxers. Izuku lets him ride it out, guides him across his thick thigh till Katsuki wiggles out of his grip.

When they part, Izuku’s chest heaves. He tries to catch his breath as he stares at Katsuki. His blond bangs are stuck to his forehead, his lips shine and there’s still a little bit of drool running down his chin. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, breathing through his mouth to learn how to breathe properly as well.

Izuku sighs, taking a few steps back before leaning against the wall. “Alright, y’should go,” he mumbles with another heavy sigh, combing a hand through his unruly curls. But then, Katsuki rushes forward, hands moving up to each side of Izuku’s head, locking around his neck.

Izuku can’t even react as he presses his wet lips on his, kissing him roughly. One thing Izuku knows for sure: he can’t say no to him. He doesn’t want to say no to him.

So he leans down greedily, getting a hold of the back of Katsuki’s nape to pull him in closer. The kiss is filthy. There’s too much teeth and tongue, the spit exchange is way more than it should’ve been in any normal kiss, but they don’t care. 

They kiss like starved men, hungry for each other. Their teeth knock as their tongues swirl and suck. Katsuki bites Izuku’s bottom lip before exploring his mouth further. Izuku follows suit, eyes pressed shut. They’re savoring the kiss like it might be their last.

Izuku’s big hands clamp down on his waist again, shuffling them backwards slowly by applying soft pressure onto his skin. Katsuki obliges, still too distracted by Izuku’s dirty mouth work. He can feel all of him, the way Izuku tastes like black coffee and spearmint chewing gum and Katsuki tasting like sugar and bubblegum.

“Fuck me, Sensei, fuck me,” the blond rushes out quietly against the other’s lips, head dizzy. He’s lifted on top of the table, pencils and staplers clashing down onto the floor as he makes home. Katsuki’s legs immediately wrap around Izuku’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. “Want you in me. Fuck, now,” he demands. His arms unlock from his neck. Before Katsuki pulls away his hands cup Izuku’s cheeks, giving him one last open-mouthed kiss.

Then, his hands move efficiently. He pulls his professor's blouse out of his pants, undoes his belt in record time and zips him open. He leans back on his hands, staring at the other’s bulge in his pants before staring back up. Katsuki’s eyeliner is smudged again, running down on the sides harshly.

Izuku wastes no time. He leans forward to undo Katsuki’s pants. He helps by pushing his hips upward just a little so he can pull them off smoothly. When Katsuki’s cock, already back hardened, springs out and hits the air, he groans, head dipping back.

Izuku shuffles down his pants before pulling down his boxers, exposing his own painfully hard cock, leaking with precum that’s already traveling down his trimmed balls. Katsuki licks his lips at the sight, eyes widening just slightly. Izuku can swear there’s hearts in his eyes. He can feel his tip pulsing already as if it’s got a heartbeat of his own and then Katsuki spreads his legs.

The room smells of sex and their musk. It would be extremely suffocating for anybody else, but not for them. The room smells like them, intertwined, together.

“Katsuki, I-“ “Prep me, Sensei, yeah? And then you can fuck me good. Live up to your promises,” the blond says in a low tone, exposing himself. Izuku doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s all over Katsuki again, kissing him deeply. One hand slides up from underneath his hoodie, exposing his toned stomach. 

His thick fingers reach one of Katsuki’s nipples, pinching them once just to get a reaction out of the man. And he’s satisfied when the blond moans, high-pitched this time, eyes gaining white as they roll back.

He grabs the endings of his clothing to pull it up over his head and toss it into a random corner before continuing. He kisses down his neck, sucking there to leave red love marks. He leaves a mean bite around Katsuki’s left nipple, to which the blond locks his legs around his waist once again. They shudder when their cocks slide against each other in the process.

Izuku’s not only bigger than Katsuki, but also thicker. His lips trail south, kissing his abs before sucking hickeys into the sweet and delicate skin there. Katsuki grunts and huffs, makes all kinds of noises. An occasional “Sensei..” here and there gets Izuku going.

He straightens his posture and reaches behind him to unlock Katsuki’s legs and raises one of them in his hand. The blond looks startled for a moment before Izuku starts kissing and licking there too. Katsuki’s skin is salty against his tongue and has its own personal sweet smell. He lavishly drinks him, leaving marks all over his inner thigh.

His other hand moves all the way up to Katsuki’s lips, index and ring finger plunging in mid moan. The blond wastes no time. He greedily sucks on the digits till they’re all the way coated in salvia. Izuku pulls them out with a wet pop!

They trail down again, circling the rim of Katsuki’s pink ring muscle that keeps fluttering. As if it’s begging for Izuku to stretch him wide open.

“God, you’re such a slut, Katsuki.” Izuku groans as the first finger slides in with ease. “Shit.” It’s being sucked in like his life depends on it so he curls it, exploring the soft walls around it.

Katsuki moans, louder this time, squirming beneath Izuku as he adds the other finger, scissoring him open carefully.

His own dick is twitching, impatiently waiting to get swallowed up by that tight heat. He presses the pads of his fingers up again and has Katsuki arching his back as pre-cum dribbles down onto his stomach. Izuku presses against the golden spot a few times more just to watch Katsuki’s face twist with anticipation and desire.

His fingers slip out when his moans get too loud, already thrashing beneath him. Katsuki’s hole mourns the loss, winking at Izuku as his breathing turns shallow. Izuku’s eyes flick up, hungry and burning with desire as the blond nods wildly.

He pulls his hips back, hand still strong around Katsuki’s left ankle. With the other, he stroked his cock just a few more times, shivering. He has to force unsexy thoughts like paperwork into his mind to stop himself from shooting a load right there and then. 

He nudges the tip of his cock close to the blond’s hole, sucking in a deep breath as it catches. He sinks his crown in and already has Katsuki whimpering. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he curses underneath his breath, watching him unravel on the table.

Without ceremony, Katsuki moves his foot again, heel pressing into Izuku’s back to get him sheathed fully inside. The thrust plows leftover air out of his poor lungs as he lets out a loud sob.

Izuku is a patient man, he really is. But now it seems like he’s lost his damn mind. He pulls out, just a little, before slamming back inside. Katsuki grips the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening, to keep him from falling and Izuku’s fingers dig into his flesh like a lifeline.

He moves his hips in a constant rhythm, moaning. To keep his mouth busy, he kisses the inside of Katsuki’s calf sloppily with every thrust.

Katsuki’s eyes roll back, cock twitching uselessly against his stomach. He tries to speak, tries to form sentences, but all that comes out are broken “I-zuku!” and “Sen-sei!”s. His mouth is hanging open, drool pooling out at the side. His eyeliner smudges even more with the tears forming on his waterline and Izuku thinks that’s when he looks the prettiest.

Like this, all wrecked, all high and drunk on his cock. And Izuku is blissed out with how wet and warm everything feels. How Katsuki was made for him in every way. Funny, smart, witty, and so, so damn tight.

Katsuki moves one hand up, trying to hold Izuku, trying to grab at his chest, but fails. The hand falls back down uselessly as he’s being shoved up and down on the surface.

The essays float onto the ground elegantly with every snap of his hips. Izuku couldn’t care less. He feels way too good.

He angles his hips just right, tip kissing and brushing over Katsuki’s prostate every time he slides back home. He groans, blouse sticking to his sweaty back.

His tie is loosely hanging around his neck as he nibbles on Katsuki’s skin. He feels feral.

“Gonna- Sensei! gah! g’nna cum!” He brabbles with another sob, head moving left and right. “Me- me too- want me to-“ “Inside! Inside!” He begs. Katsuki’s heel digs further into the end of his spine to guide him impossibly closer. 

With a few more harsh thrusts, Izuku finally settles inside, head tipping back as he unloads inside of Katsuki’s tight hole. The blond spasms and writhes underneath him, overwhelmed by his second orgasm tonight as it spurts all over his stomach and chest in thick ropes.

His back arches off so prettily, nipples pink and puffy, Izuku can’t help but thrust in just one more time to make sure he gets out all of his spent.

His cock pulses inside of him, filling him up. His chest moves up and down at a quick pace as he softly kisses his calf one more time before lowering his leg gently. Katsuki looks blissed out, cheeks red and body wet all over. 

He catches his breath before Izuku softly removes himself from the other’s space, his dick slipping out. His thick cum follows his suit, oozing out of the other’s puckering hole as he lay there.

Katsuki is beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Izuku wants to take him home. He wants to make him his, to keep him forever and never let him go. He wants to be Katsuki’s. His heart stutters in his chest at the thought of it.

The blond slowly uses his hands to push his torso up again, looking down at the mess they both made. Then, his gaze trails up at Izuku, grinning lazily. “Sensei, look at what you’ve done..” he mumbles triumphantly. “Get me a paper towel.”

Izuku leans down, capturing the other’s lips in a slow kiss, one hand braced against his chest as he lays him down again.

“We’re not done yet,” Izuku mumbles into his mouth. Katsuki grins against his lips.