Chapter Text
The house is dark when he pulls up. The glow from the streetlight opposite the bedroom window basks it in the same intense orange glow that used to permeate the apparently “impenetrable curtains,” preventing him from getting any decent sleep whenever he stayed over.
That was, of course, when Izuku would let him sleep.
Katsuki takes note of the empty space in the drive next to Izuku’s, smug in the knowledge that he already knew it would be. She always went away every other weekend— he doesn’t know where or even care, he just knows she would be gone from Friday night until Sunday afternoon. Plenty of time for Katsuki to have him all for himself.
He carries on past the house, finding a parking spot on the next street over so as not to draw attention to himself as he sneaks up the path and round to the back gate. The key under the flowerpot is still there, despite Izuku’s insistence that he would find somewhere else for it after he broke inside the first time.
His words, not his. It’s not breaking and entering if he has a key, right?
And besides if Izuku really didn’t want him coming back then he should’ve moved it when he said he would. So it speaks volumes that the shiny silver key still sits beneath the pot, sprinkled with tiny flecks of soil.
He still wants him.
Sneaking inside, he made sure to close the door softly and wait for the light click as the lock slides into the latch before he walked away. He doesn't want what happened the last time to repeat itself.
The kitchen is a mess. Dirty dishes pile up in the sink and he smirks to himself, remembering all the times he’d help Izuku wash up after he made him dinner— how the simple act of putting soap bubbles on his nose would descend into a messy water fight, which always seemed to end with Izuku fucking him over the kitchen counter.
Sneaking past the lounge, Katsuki’s heart leaps inside his chest as he spots Uraraka asleep on the couch, a blanket pulled up around her neck. He notices the bottle of wine on the coffee table, and next to it, the empty glass— her lipstick marks still staining the rim. She’ll likely be out for a few hours, especially if she’s still popping Xanax like candy.
Again, Izuku’s words, not his.
His chest tightens as a small pang of guilt clutches at it, but it soon withers away as he remembers how unhappy their relationship had become. How unhappy she had made him.
It kind of took him by surprise though, finding her here when he expects her not to be, but the little niggle in his mind reminds him how far he’s come. How close he is to Izuku again.
He can’t back out now when he’s just upstairs. Ready and waiting for him.
His whole body tingles at the thought, pussy clenching around nothing as he ascends the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky one halfway up. As the blond creeps across the landing, he can hear his light snores— in, out— and slowly pad towards his bedroom. His heart starts to pound faster as he gets closer, eager to see him.
He always looks so handsome as he sleeps, his normally cherubic features even more soft and relaxed in the midst of slumber. He misses watching him sleep, long to gaze at him as his eyelashes flicker against his cheeks as he dreamt. He misses the lazy smile he’d give him when he’d wake after realising what he had been doing.
Katsuki just misses him. Plain and simple.
Pushing the door open, he can tell he’s laying on his back from here, the space he used to occupy now empty and his stomach twists.
It’s not his space, never was.
With tentative steps, he gently walks inside, stripping off his sweater as he approaches the bed. The duvet only just covers his lower half, the small thatch of green hair at the base of his cock visible.
He loves that he sleeps naked.
The bed dips and creaks a little as he climbs up, his eyes firmly trained on Izuku, making sure he doesn't wake him. Izuku stirs very softly, kicking out his bent leg and the subsequent action drags the duvet even lower, giving Katsuki perfect access to his cock.
God, it’s like he just knows he’s here.
Even soft, he’s magnificent to look at. For once he’s thankful for the streetlight outside, just enough orange glow pouring in for him to get a good look at Izuku in all his naked glory. Every inch of him is chiselled to within an inch of perfection. He thinks back to all the times he fucked him in this bed, all rippling skin and taut muscles and Katsuki had to bite back a moan with his teeth.
Stomach rolling with heat, he takes a chance and dips his hand beneath his pants, rubbing— dipping— fucking himself on his fingers until his arousal drips down his thighs, making their bedsheets sticky and damp.
With his spare hand, he reaches for Izuku’s cock. His touch is soft at first, delicate strokes designed to draw out the pleasure as much as possible. Katsuki remembers fondly of the time he taught him on the backseat of his car, his hand wrapped tightly around the base of his dick as he breathlessly whispered instructions to him.
“Just like that, Kacchan,” Izuku would whisper in his ear. “You make me feel so good, you know me so well. Kacchan makes me feel so good.”
Fuck yeah, he does. That’s why Katsuki’s here, in the middle of the goddamn night. Because Katsuki knows only Kacchan can make him feel that good. Things only his Kacchan can give what his wife can’t.
He twitches in his hand as it begins to swell. It doesn’t take long. He’s erect within a few minutes, the dome of his shaft beading with pre-cum. Katsuki longs to tease and taste him, feel the weight of his cock heavy on his tongue, but he can’t wait. Izuku could wake up at any minute.
Carefully he moves into position, placing a knee either side of his hips and slowly, he lowers himself down on his cock with a long exhale. He feels so good inside him— so warm and thick, like he’s meant to fit.
Katsuki sits there for a beat, just enjoying the feel of him sheathed within his walls— pulsing and throbbing until he starts to roll his hips. Again, he’s gentle to begin with, not wanting to disturb Izuku, but as he grinds against him, his movements become more erratic, more desperate.
He just feels so fucking good.
Katsuki lightly places his hands on his chest and tilts forwards, lifting himself off his cock before sinking back down onto him. His essence coats him— slick hot and wet, pooling in his hairs that rub against his clit.
Izuku begins to stir beneath him, shifting sleepily against the mattress until his eyes ping open.
Hello baby.
“What the hell-Kacchan?” he croaks thickly, attempting to sit up. “My wife is downstairs!”
Draping his body over his chest, Katsuki presses a finger softly to his lips.
“Shh Deku, just lay back and enjoy me,” he coos, all coquettish and light. “Feel all that?” The distinct wet suck of his pussy fills the room. “It’s all for you.”
“You gotta stop, Kacchan!” he grunts below him, yet he makes no attempt to lift him off.
Sitting back up, Katsuki grabs his hands, and lifts them to his chest, coaxing him to knead them.
His eyes focus on him a little harder. “Is that your… hero uniform?”
Katsuki smirks. “Remember how much you liked fucking me in it?”
“You need to get of, Kacchan. Now.” His voice is deeper, more resolute. Pointed and authoritative.
Katsuki always loved when he gets sharp with him.
“Push me off. I dare you, Deku. I scream, and she’ll hear me.”
He bares his teeth, like he’s ready to snarl at him— ready to sink his teeth right into his jugular and rip out his throat.
“C’mon Deku, fuck me like you used to,” Katsuki whines desperately, bearing harder down into Izuku’s lap, grinding in his lap until he’s boneless, unmoving— a slave to his ministrations.
Izuku growls when Katsuki rolls his hips, just the way he likes it. “Stop it, we can’t do this any more.”
“Come with me Deku, please?” It’s a request thinly veiled as a question.
“You have to stop,” he replies but Katsuki can tell by the strain in his voice, he’s struggling to hold back.
“Then stop me. Stop me making us both feel so good,” he pants. “Remember how good it was? Remember my pussy squeezin’ you tight, milkin’ this big, thick cock?”
Izuku throws his head back against the pillow, jaw tight as he finally loses the battle with his resolve. Grabbing his hips, Izuku holds him aloft and fucks into him without mercy. He hurriedly slams a hand over Katsuki’s mouth while he holds him there and he screams beneath his palm as he comes hard around him, his juices spurting out and soaking his dick and stomach.
With a deep howl, Izuku quickly follows, spilling hot and wet inside his cunt. Still trembling, Katsuki lowers his chest to his and sprinkle featherlight kisses over his dewy skin, smiling into each freckle that paints his chest. He misses this intimacy— the feeling of him still twitching and throbbing inside him as they kiss, needing, craving that comfort as they both return from their highs.
It doesn’t last.
“Get off me, Kacchan.” Izuku grits out. He’s quick to move him, pushing at his shoulders as he shifts beneath him, his cock slipping out from the blond’s abused hole with a wet slurp.
Katsuki sits up, brows furrowing.“Why are you acting so uptight now? Don’t you fucking miss this, Deku?”
Slowly, he presses down, running his pussy lips over his length and balls, smearing his cum all over his scorched flesh. This time Izuku snaps, no longer hypnotised by Katsuki writhing on top of him. Grabbing his hips, he tugs the blond off of him like he’s made of paper. He stands up, cock still hard and smothered in milky white.
Katsuki runs his tongue across his bottom lip, he grins, “Let me clean you up.” He kneels up in front of him, reaching out to run his hand down his clammy chest.
Izuku slaps his hand away in ire, roughly pushing him back onto the bed. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
He storms into the en-suite, disappearing temporarily from view. Katsuki stands, smoothing down his hero suit but make no attempt to clean himself up. The feeling of him drying on his thighs makes him hot all over, knowing exactly where he’s been.
As he returns, his features twist in anger when he realises he’s still here. He rushes toward him, shoving a pointed finger in his face.
“This ends now, y’hear me?” he whispers sharply.
“But-”
“But nothing,” he interrupts, “leave now and I won’t report you for breaking into my house.”
Katsuki’s innocent facade drops as he scoffs at him, lips curling up into a wide smile. “You’re not gonna report me, Deku.”
“Wanna bet?” he snaps.
Katsuki walks around him, heading straight for the dresser opposite the bed. He picks up his cell that’s still recording and shows him the screen before pressing stop. The colour drains from his face at the revelation.
“You report anything, or ever tell me it’s over again, and you can bet your perfect marriage that I’ll show this to everyone.”