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It isn’t a surprise to anyone who knows Katsuki that he spends most of his existence in varying states of exasperation–either quietly seething in the background or shouting so loudly that the Earth under his feet shakes loose. He knows, though, that he’s made progress controlling his quick temper, learning the value of biting his tongue even if he has to do it so hard and so often that the taste of blood in his mouth doesn’t even jar him anymore.
Likewise, it isn’t shocking that Katsuki strives to be the best at everything—to be number one. This desire is his sole drive behind the whole biting his tongue thing. He learned to envision his impatience as a live thing, tangible, like a wild creature that he’s been tasked with taming. Sometimes, he pictures it as lava, pretends he has the ability to control it with the tightening of his fist, the clench of his jaw. If he turns the anger into something real, it becomes something he can destroy. Most of the time, this strategy works for him.
But no one—absolutely no one—brings that progress to a halt like Izuku fucking Midoriya.
For all the work Katsuki has done in differing parts of his life, every stride he has taken in spite of his own pride and discomfort, this thing with Deku is by far the hardest to conquer. Because no matter how hard he tries—and goddamn it, he tries– Katsuki can’t personify it. It’s just too large, sits too heavy on his chest and his gut. How could he possibly conjure up an image in his head to represent whatever the fuck they have going on when Katsuki’s brain sparks out and dies every time Deku comes near him?
It’s been long enough that Katsuki can’t even remember all the details of how it began—just that Deku had followed him into his dorm room as he was going on about something completely inane, and he wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and Katsuki had to make the babbling stop. He recalls the collision of their teeth, dust flying off the top of his door as Deku’s back hit it. Katsuki tells himself he had to do it for his own sanity. Telling Deku to be quiet never worked for him before, so he had to try something new. He tried so hard to convince himself that it was unrelated to the uncomfortable heat in his chest—a heat that had nothing to do with his Quirk and everything to do with the fact that somewhere along the way, Deku had become far too comfortable with pushing into Katsuki’s space as they spoke to each other instead of keeping a polite distance. Stupid Deku, Katsuki remembers thinking, thinking the rules never apply to him
Katsuki just—he hates babbling. It’s never been difficult for him to get his point across in a few blunt words and he doesn’t understand why everyone else can’t be the same, especially Deku. It infuriates him even more that lately, late at night when he’s staring at the ceiling in his bed, he plays Deku’s voice in his head on loop, missing the too-long, too-eager sentences right up in his face. He realizes that at some point, his insistence on quieting Deku up by any means necessary became less about his opposition to the babbling and more about the wound-up feeling that radiates down to his toes when he realizes he just wants to hear it all the time.
And maybe that’s why this whatever has become so commonplace for them now. Because after the first time, back when they were at UA, when Katsuki shoved him up against the door and held him by the collar of his hoodie and pressed his closed mouth way too hard against Deku’s, Deku just…shut down. Not in an off-putting way or a way that made Katsuki think he didn’t want it, but in a way that almost seemed like he was handing over his basic motor skills to Katsuki. Like he was saying hey, gonna let you handle these now, please tell me how you want me. It was…like a release, like Deku had been waiting so long for it that his body didn’t know what to do when he got it. Katsuki remembers the way he slumped against the door, mouth going slack and pliant and so sweet without any coaxing on Katsuki’s part. Deku’s hands stayed by his side until Katsuki grabbed them and pinned him with one hand against the door above his head, and Deku let him do it, made no noise of protest or struggle. When they broke apart and Deku said nothing for a long moment, just looked up at Katsuki with a slow blink, Katsuki felt like he had struck gold. Finally, a way to get the annoying ache for Deku’s voice to go away.
It was the first moment of true quiet between them all day; only lasted a few seconds. But those few seconds broke a dam in Katsuki’s head and showed him he could simultaneously shut Deku up and silence his own stupid, deceitful brain. And that was all Katsuki wanted, really—for his own traitorous mind to stop becoming attached to the sound of stupid fucking Deku’s stupid fucking voice. He wondered how far it could go, if the longer he kissed Deku, the longer Deku would be quiet. If he yanked his hair hard enough or stuck his fingers down his throat, would he maybe be quiet all day. And damnit, if that wasn’t a thought.
All of these things, Katsuki supposes, are how they ended up here. He considers it a cosmic joke, a big Hey, Fuck You! From the universe that they ended up attending the same university. Not that Katsuki ever really wanted to be away from Deku—whether he will ever fully admit that or not—but he at least thought leaving UA and going separate ways might ease the voice in Katsuki’s brain that is just a constant stream of Deku, Deku, Deku.
“Kacchan, I really think if you listened to what our professor said about—”
“Deku?”
“—because you’ve really improved, but he’s right, there’s—”
“Deku.”
A threat this time, instead of a question.
“—and even Todoroki agrees that—”
That’s all it takes for Katsuki to take three long strides and close the gap between them, to get his hands on Deku’s shoulders and spin him around so quickly that Deku trips over his own feet. Katsuki pins Deku’s arm behind his back with a hand in a vice grip around his wrist and uses his other hand to bend Deku over the bed, kicking his feet apart once he’s there. A knee shoved between Deku’s spread legs, Katsuki leans over Deku’s back and easily covers the expanse of it. Thank fuck for height difference, he thinks.
“Kacchan, what—”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too goddamn much?” he questions, moving the hand flattening Deku to the bed up to the crown of his head, pushing his face into the sheets. “Actually, don’t answer that, because I know I’ve told you no short of a million times that all do is run your fuckin’ mouth.”
“I was, mmph¬, just trying to say—” Deku pushes back against the hand on his head to get the rumpled sheets out of his mouth. “I was just trying to say that you might get some really constructive advice if you would just listen. And anyway, I think this is a little bit of an overreaction if you ask me! I’m just trying to give you some poin—uh, Kacchan? Why did you stop interrupting me?”
Katsuki stares down at his own hand fisted in Deku’s hair, barely applying force but still keeping Deku down because it’s not like he’s resisting at all. Of course he isn’t. It’s intoxicating, makes Katsuki’s insides spin off their axis, the way Deku shamelessly hands himself over.
“Are you done?” Katsuki asks.
“Uh, no, actually, because I also wanted to—”
Katsuki snarls then, releasing his grip on Deku’s hair and pinned wrist just long enough to haul his legs up onto the bed, forcing him into an arched position, chest down and knees tucked underneath him. His face still smushed awkwardly into the mattress, Deku shrieks out a “Hey! Wh—” but before he can finish his sentence, Katsuki rehashes his earlier musings about shoving his fingers into Deku’s mouth and decides it’s a fantastic idea. Maybe the best idea he’s had all week, if he’s honest.
Katsuki knees up onto the bed and positions himself at Deku’s side, using one hand to pull Deku back by the hair just enough that his mouth parts and Katsuki can shove his middle and ring finger inside. Deku gags against the unexpected intrusion, drooling on the sheets a little, and it should be disgusting, normally Katsuki would hate the slimy feel of someone else’s spit dripping down between the webs of his fingers, but... he doesn’t hate this at all.
“Blows my mind that you have so much drool considering all you do is talk,” he teases, curling his two fingers inward and hooking them behind Deku’s bottom teeth. He pushes experimentally, watches the way Deku’s jaw pries open, tongue hanging loosely over Katsuki’s knuckles. His shoulders are tense, eyes wide and giving away how caught off guard he is. “Figured your annoying ass mouth woulda dried up by now.”
Deku is watching him out of the eye that isn’t smushed into the bed, switching between making eye contact and going cross-eyed looking down to see where Katsuki’s fingers are curled into the heat of his mouth. Deku brings a hand up and tentatively pulls Katsuki’s fingers from his mouth.
“Well, it might dry up if you keep doing that,” Deku quips, voice and expression feigning innocence.
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki stays at Deku’s side and flips him to his back easily, and that pisses him off, too—the way Deku just goes, as if he couldn’t crumble the building they’re in with the strength of one arm if he really wanted to. Katsuki would kill someone to know why he does that, why he’s so easy. What he did ever fuckin’ did to deserve Deku’s trust.
“I dry your mouth out? Here.” Katsuki pinches Deku’s jaw between his thumb and index finger, yanks his mouth open, and spits into it. He knows Deku is about to feign protest, so Katsuki forces his jaw back closed before he gets the chance, squeezing it in his hands. Deku’s only choice now is to let it sit on his tongue or swallow it.
Deku hesitates a moment, narrowing his eyes, and for a second, Katsuki thinks he’s gone too far. His nerves light up, ready to mumble an apology and move on like it never happened. But Deku doesn’t fight the fingers on his jawbone, just stares calculatingly at the hard bulge in Katsuki’s pants. If Katsuki were a more bashful man, he would blush…but fuck that. He squares up, keeping his eyes on Deku’s, forcing himself to look intimidating even though his wires are all crossed.
A beat, and Deku swallows the spit.
Things move quickly then, a flame ignited. Katsuki yanks Deku’s hoodie over his head and takes a second to drape it over the bedpost—he’s not a savage, thank you. Deku’s sweatpants and socks go next, and the next thing either of them knows, Deku is naked save for his underwear, while Katsuki remains fully clothed.
“Aren’t you going to undress, Kacchan?” he implores, sounds so innocent despite the situation at hand. A blush sits high on Deku’s cheeks and curves up towards the outer corners of his eyes. Katsuki pinches lightly there, not being mean for once, just watching the way the flush grows darker. Katsuki can’t make a single move without Deku becoming more and more worked up, and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“No,” Katsuki eventually replies, secretly unsure what to do next, as if Deku hasn’t been in some state of undress in his bed at least a hundred times now. This time feels different, more charged, as if Deku has finally wound Katsuki up enough that all the thoughts of things he wants to do to make Deku go boneless and stupid under his hands are spilling over.
“That seems a little unfair, don’t you think?” Deku teases, reaching a hand out to swipe his index finger across Katsuki’s nose. Katsuki resists the urge to clamp the finger between his teeth and scowls at Deku. “Why should I be the only naked one? Isn’t that, like, some sort of power imbalance?”
“Why are you still talking this much?” Katsuki grits out between clenched teeth, pressing his hand forcefully Deku’s chest and pushing down. Any earlier question about what to do next is lost in his newfound annoyance. He swings a leg over Deku’s knee, straddling it. “There was a time all I had to do was kiss you and you forgot how to move.”
“Hmmm.” Deku puts on a showy expression of consideration. “I dunno, Kacchan. Maybe I caught onto your plan? Maybe I realized the only reason you’ve been kissing and touching me to get me to shut up. It’s a little rude if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Katsuki retorts. “Don’t need to ask you anything when I can just make you.”
A quiet pause. Lower, Katsuki says, “And that isn’t the only reason, anyway.”
Deku ignores the last comment but clearly hears it; Katsuki can tell by the way his eyes go soft. And that always, always jars him, the way that Deku knows him well enough to not parade around when Katsuki’s guard comes down and he makes a vulnerable comment, but still validates him by acknowledging it in some way. Even so, it’s then that Katsuki realizes Deku is doing this on purpose, this pushing back and teasing, perhaps trying to let Katsuki know that he’s onto him. That he knows Katsuki isn’t really as annoyed at Deku’s presence as he tries to pretend.
“Yet I’m still here, not shutting up,” Deku goads, a glint in his eye.
Before he can say anything else, Katsuki grabs Deku’s underwear by the waistband and yanks it down, off in one swift pull. He’s had enough, frankly; enough of Deku’s smartass mouth and enough of the fondness growing wings in his chest and trying to take flight out of his throat. Katsuki is nothing if not a man of swift action, so instead of giving himself any time to second guess his actions, he bunches the tight, black underwear in his hand and shoves it into Deku’s open mouth.
Deku’s hands aren’t bound by anything, so Katsuki recognizes that he has every opportunity to remove the underwear; wouldn’t have done what he did otherwise, because they’re still testing the waters of toomuchtoosoon. But he doesn’t move. Katsuki carefully considers him, arms crossed high on his chest, gone back to his earlier position straddling Deku’s knee. He lowers his gaze slowly to Deku’s cock and doesn’t miss the way it twitches and strains and threatens to leak now that he’s gagged. It dawns on Katsuki. He likes this.
Quiet now, save for Deku’s harsh exhales coming out of his nostrils. His hands are fisted in the sheets and his eyes are fixed on Katsuki’s, hardly blinking. The faint blush Katsuki was admiring earlier has now spread down Deku’s neck and to the tips of his ears.
Adorable, Katsuki thinks, flinching and mentally swatting the admission away.
“There,” Katsuki sighs out, bringing his gaze back to Deku’s face and admiring his handiwork. “Finally, some peace and fuckin’ quiet. Look better like this, actually, nerd.”
Deku glares at him and lifts his chin, as if he has some possibility of preserving his dignity with his underwear stuffed in his mouth and Katsuki fully clothed above him. Katsuki notices Deku’s hands flexing on the bundle of sheets he’s gripping as if he’s itching to grab at something but refuses to. And that’s… Katsuki has no qualms at the idea of binding Deku’s hands, but this is almost hotter, the way Deku has free reign to put them wherever he wants but doesn’t because Katsuki hasn’t instructed him to.
Katsuki shifts positions finally, raising up onto his knees and leaning forward to plant both hands on either side of Deku’s head, caging him in. He stares down and smirks, the sight of a gagged Deku becoming more exciting by the second. Slowly, he licks a stripe on the underside of Deku’s chin up to the clenched condyle of his jaw. Deku turns his head away from the motion and lifts his hips fractionally. To some it might appear that he’s trying to move away so Katsuki can’t lick him like a damn kitten again, but Katsuki knows better, knows by now that Deku can’t help but desperately rut the air when he’s this turned on and desperate for contact.
“Ah, ah,” Katsuki admonishes. “Settle down, Deku. What, having your underwear shoved in your mouth because you can’t control it get you goin’?”
Deku stills, trying so hard to keep his eyelids narrowed in a glare, but they keep betraying him and opening doe-wide and watery. Katsuki knows Deku isn’t going to cry, not yet, or maybe not at all depending on how things progress, but he gets to the edge of that possibility so easily it’s almost comical.
“Keep your hands where they are,” Katsuki instructs, trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down the slope of Deku’s muscular shoulders to the lines between his abs. Deku’s knuckles are so white, the veins in his hands bulging out with the effort of trying to obey.
Katsuki works his way down to the coarse patch of hairs on Deku’s happy trail and kneads the soft flesh of his lower belly between his teeth. Deku is pure brawn, 99.9% hard, unrelenting muscle, but he still has one spot of supple flesh that Katsuki can’t get enough of. He doesn’t bite down hard, just sucks and gnaws at it until Deku is shamelessly writhing under him, his cock bumping Katsuki’s chin over and over.
“Oiy,” Katsuki says, reaching up to tweak one of Deku’s nipples. Deku shrieks then, and though Katsuki meant the action as a warning to stop moving, Deku does the opposite, thrusting up again and bumping his cock against the column of Katsuki’s throat.
“Look at yourself, should have a mirror above the bed so you can see how pathetic you look,” Katsuki smirks. He’s full of good ideas today.
Deku whines through the cloth and the noise sounds almost wet. Katsuki thinks about the way the fabric must be soaked through now, spit pooling in the back of his throat, threatening to eventually trail down the sides of his chin. It’s a filthy thought and he knows Deku is embarrassed.
“I don’t even know if you deserve this much fuckin’ attention,” Katsuki continues in a devious tone, “the way you’ve been buggin’ the shit outta me.”
His thumbs rubbing circles into Deku’s hipbones now, occasionally stopping to frame Deku’s cock. It’s so hard it looks painful, little drips of precum pooling and the tip and trickling down every time his cock twitches; he’s so responsive, too responsive, to every single passage of Katsuki’s fingers and mouth on any given part of Deku’s body.
“But I guess I’ll give it to you,” he continues, “‘cause by the end you’ll be gagging for my dick, huh?”
And that’s—that’s so dirty that Deku has to turn his head and throw an arm over his eyes even though Katsuki told him to keep his hands where they were. Katsuki lets it slide, though, marveling in the way Deku’s need is so palpable, in the way he so clearly thrives off of this.
“Is that what you want, nerd? To gag for my cock until I decide to give it to you?”
He reaches up swiftly and yanks the underwear out of Deku’s mouth, watches as the spit trails out behind it just like he knew it would. Deku’s mouth stays open as if it’s stuck there, as if he’s just waiting to take whatever else Katsuki might want to shove in. His eyes are squeezed shut, cheeks a shade of crimson Katsuki has never seen in all the years he’s known Deku. He stays silent other than the little whines coming out with his exhales. Katsuki doesn’t think he’s even aware he’s making the noise.
“I took the underwear out because I want an answer, stupid Deku. That what you want?”
A wire comes loose, then, messy noises and pleas tumbling out of Deku’s mouth so quickly that Katsuki can barely make out the words, just a mantra of, “Please, Kacchan, please, please—”
Katsuki rocks back up onto his knees and forcefully grabs Deku’s chin between all five of his fingers. “Please, Kacchan,” he repeats in a high-pitched, mocking tone, opening and closing Deku’s mouth in time with the words.
“Listen to you,” Katsuki grunts, pulling Deku’s jaw open once more. He spits into his mouth again, and this time Deku doesn’t hesitate to swallow. “Perfect.”
Katsuki flips them at breakneck speed to distract from the praise, situating Deku so he’s straddling Katsuki’s clothed cock. Deku mindlessly shifts his hips back and forth, staring down where they grind together.
“Stop it,” Katsuki snaps, flicking his middle finger against the sensitive skin on Deku’s thigh. Deku stills. “Raise up. On your knees. Keep yourself up; I’m not gonna help you.”
Deku does as he’s told, standing on his knees and keeping his back straight as he towers over Katsuki, waiting. He follows Katsuki’s movements as he reaches into the nightstand and fishes around for the lube. His breath quickens when he sees Katsuki immediately coat two fingers with lube instead of just one. Katsuki is clearly in no mood to ease Deku into things, and that’s fine; he likes when it burns, likes it more when he’s able to open up and take whatever Katsuki gives him.
Katsuki doesn’t meet his eyes, just stares hungrily at Deku’s cock as it bobs between them, untouched. He reaches between Deku’s spread thighs and traces the perimeter of Deku’s hole. Deku’s cock spasms but he’s otherwise still. His muscles aren’t shaking yet, and he isn’t struggling against the effort of holding himself up—his body is cut out for way more more than this– but Katsuki knows he’ll get there.
Unrelenting, he scissors his two slick fingers in, burying them as far as they’ll go and stopping. The noise Deku lets out is feral, half from the feeling of Katsuki’s fingers inside him and the rest from the effort of resisting the urge to rut back and forth on them until Katsuki’s wrist gives out. Katsuki watches him, waiting to see if he’ll really hold himself up or if the pleasure will short his brain and make him forget what he was instructed to do.
When he doesn’t push down on his fingers, Katsuki purrs out a good and begins fucking Deku in short, rough motions. Deku’s neck falls all the way back, exposing the thick column of his throat. Katsuki reaches up and lightly wraps his free hand around the side of Deku’s throat, thumb pushing in slightly. Deku lets out a contented whine at that, and Katsuki files it away as another thing to explore later.
“Good, huh?” Katsuki says, slowing down the motion of his fingers and applying more force to Deku’s throat so that it’s harder for him to reply. “Could make you come just like this, couldn’t I? Just from my fingers in your ass and around your throat. But it wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?”
Deku cries out a protesting uh-uh, and even that small noise sounds wrecked coming out of his throat.
“No? That’s what I thought,” Katsuki scoffs, shoving his fingers all the way back in. “You won’t be happy until you’re on my cock, isn’t that right?”
“You’re right, Kacchan, please let me,” Deku begs, looking down for the first time, finally brave enough to meet the other man’s eyes. “I want to, I want to, plea—”
“Yeah, okay, fuckin’ relax,” Katsuki interrupts lazily, like he gives no fucks how hard and desperate Deku is, how bad his cock hurts from straining completely untouched this entire time.
The truth of the matter is Katsuki does care; he’s completely overwhelmed, just a master at reeling it in so it doesn’t show. He’s consumed by the reactions he gets, the way Deku is so eager for him, the way he wants nothing more than to be the only one who ever gets Deku like this. It’s something he’s not ready to confess anytime soon, but if he were a betting man, he would bet Deku knows anyway. He would bet it’s obvious by the little things Katsuki sometimes does—the way he goes against his own nature without even realizing it and cradles Deku’s face in the palm of his hand every time he’s about to cum, pressing soft, open-mouth kisses to his brow bone, his eyelids; the way he folds over Deku when he’s fucking him from behind and nuzzles his head into the middle of his back; the cloudy post-orgasm haze that lowers his defenses and leaves him panting into Deku’s ear how perfect he is, how good.
Katsuki removes his fingers and wraps his hands around Deku’s hips. He notices the way his thighs are trembling now, finally burning with the effort of holding himself up. “Take my pants off,” he instructs, letting go of Deku’s hips and crossing them behind his head.
Deku all but falls over himself as he moves down the bed and rips Katsuki’s black sweatpants off, tossing them in a near corner. He grabs Katsuki’s hips and hunches over, nuzzling his cock, mouth slack and eyes closed. Katsuki thinks he looks almost dazed, in a trance that he’s unable to snap out of on his own.
“Go on,” Katsuki prompts, scraping his hand through Deku’s hair and keeping his hand there. “Put your mouth on it, Deku.”
Deku snaps out of his daydream and takes Katsuki down as far as he can go, nearly all the way. Katsuki is grateful that he can’t manage the whole length, though, savoring the sound and feel of Deku’s throat constricting around him. Deku sucks cock the same way he approaches fights; fast, messy, reckless, but somehow just right. Like he’s read books on it, and fuck, maybe he has. There’s no real skill to it but it’s masterful to Katsuki. He loves to watch Deku struggle on it, eyebrows pinched and spit running down Katsuki’s cock onto the sheets.
“Fuck, Deku, fuck,” he curses, pushing Deku’s head down fractionally as he lifts his hips and shoves in. “Your fucking mouth, it’s my favorite and least favorite thing about you, God—”
Deku makes a sobbing noise around the cock in his mouth, like he’s falling apart even more just because Katsuki is. He claws desperately at Katsuki’s hips and bobs his head, only stopping to press wet kisses to the tip.
“I have to fuck you,” Katsuki groans, voice shot. “Get back up here, sit on my cock.”
Deku blushes for perhaps the ten millionth time in the past hour but scrambles nonetheless to straddle Katsuki again, reaching to the discarded lube on the nightstand and taking it upon himself to lube Katsuki up. Once he does, he positions Katsuki’s cock at his hole but makes no move to insert it, waiting.
Katsuki marvels up at him, eyes gone uncharacteristically wide as he searches Deku’s face for some kind of revelation. Maybe some kind of clue as to how Deku knows exactly how to please him; when to go wild and when to wait for Katsuki to tell him what to do next.
He shakes himself out of his reverie, snaps, “That’s it. Do it, Deku, fuck, do what you’ve been dying to do since you came in my room.”
“Since I woke up this morning," he manages between moans. The sound of Deku’s voice startles Katsuki, having gone at least twenty minutes hearing nothing but harsh breath, wet mouth, Deku’s pornographic whines and cries and moans.
“Hah?” comes Katsuki’s inelegant reply, too caught up to take in what Deku said.
“I’ve been dying to do this since I—fuck—since I woke up,” he repeats, moving the tip of Katsuki’s cock back and forth between the crack of his ass, circling his hole. “Since I went to bed last night, even, god, Kacchan—”
“Do it, then,” Katsuki snarls, louder now than he’s been all night. “Shut up, do it, make me feel good.”
Deku cries out at that and sinks down on Katsuki’s cock, bottoming out in one slow motion. His cock spurts once between them, swollen and red, not coming but clearly teetering on the edge already. Katsuki reaches out and grabs two of Deku’s fingers, swipes them through the precome that spattered in the lines of his own abs and brings Deku’s fingers to his mouth.
Deku loses it as he watches and feels Katsuki lick his come off his fingers. He places his hands on Katsuki’s chest and bounces his hips up and down on in sloppy but determined motions. Katsuki can tell he’s worse than gone now, absolutely lost in the feel of the thick, curved cock inside of him. And he’s just as lost, overwhelmed at how tight Deku is and how hard he’s working to pleasure him.
“You’re fucking—I don’t even know what you are,” Katsuki moans, eyes drawn to where he can watch his cock disappear inside Deku. “You fuckin’ love this, look at you, starving for it. You’d break yourself in half to get my cock inside you, wouldn’t you, stupid Deku?”
Deku nods adamantly, would probably agree to anything Katuski says right now, but he means it. There’s tears now, which has happened enough times that Katsuki has learned not to be alarmed by it. He cries so much in everyday life; it only makes sense to Katsuki that this much pleasure would make him do it, too. The movement of Deku’s hips has gone arrhythmic, no longer focusing on the up and down motion but grinding back and forth instead, his cock slapping against his own abdomen.
Katsuki can tell Deku iss frustrated, worn out, wound up, probably wants to come more than he’s ever wanted anything, but Katsuki is a selfish fuck, and he’s not ready to give up Deku’s tight heat around him.
With an arm around Deku’s back, he pushes Deku off his cock and flips them once more. Deku whines at the loss, and Katsuki smirks. With Deku on his back now, Katsuki knees up between his legs and grabs his ankles. He spreads Deku’s legs as wide apart as his arms will allow and pushes them back so Deku is effectively bent in half. It’s an obscene position, every part of Deku on full display—his red, weeping cock, his hole constricting as it waits for Katsuki’s cock to fill it again, and Deku’s face, lips bitten raw, eyes bloodshot and teary, nose running. He’s destroyed, finally boneless and stupid like Katsuki wanted.
It’s just- it's too fucking much. Katsuki spits on Deku’s hole and lines his cock back up, pushing Deku’s legs back so his knees are touching his shoulders. He fucks into him harshly, knows Deku wants it that way, and lowers himself down so he can press his mouth against Deku’s ear.
“So quiet for me now,” he whispers, voice hoarse at this point. “Couldn’t even string a sentence together if you wanted to. Fuck, you have no idea how good you are.”
Deku preens under the praise, pressing his cheek to Katsuki’s open mouth. Katsuki nips gently and then nuzzles, brings a hand up to cup Deku’s cheek like he always does. It’s like they’re in two different worlds, one where Katsuki’s hips are hammering relentlessly into Deku’s, hard enough he thinks his hipbones might bruise; then another where Katsuki has gone so soft, when did he get so goddamn soft? Cradling Deku’s face like this, licking up his tears and then kissing him, salt mingled with Deku’s earlier precome.
“You’re gonna come for me.” A statement, not a question. “I wanna see it, want you to come all over yourself, wanna hear you do it, let me hear you.”
Katsuki knows his words betray what he’s been saying this whole time, telling Deku to shut the fuck up, begging him to be quiet. But now those deceitful thoughts have come back, those thoughts that make him ache for Deku’s voice to fill his ears and never stop. God, he doesn’t want to go a single day without hearing it.
Deku still doesn’t make any words, just babbles quiet consonants and vowels mindlessly as Katsuki fucks into him harder. His eyes are unfocused, so Katsuki grabs his chin and forces Deku to look at him.
“I said I want to hear you, Deku,” he repeats. “I need you to come for me, I need to hear you, need you so bad--”
At that, Deku spills between them, so loud the people two floors down must be able to hear him. “Kacchan, Kacchan, I’m coming, oh my god don’t stop—”
Katsuki drops his forehead to Deku’s shoulder, a hand still cradling his cheek. He pounds into him with short, unrelenting strokes as a stripe of Deku’s come hits him across the chest.
“Goddamn it, Deku,” he moans gruffly into Deku’s shoulder, “always so fucking perfect. Giving me just what I need, aren't you?”
Deku just keeps moaning in a constant string of noises, eyes closing and head lolling lazily to the side from his release. He’s like a doll now, completely untense and open on Katsuki’s cock, just wanting to take whatever Katsuki needs to go over the edge.
“You sound so fucking beautiful,” Katsuki whispers, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away at the admission, embarrassed but unable to stop himself. His chest is tight, so tight he feels like he’ll stop breathing any second. Deku reaches a hand up to rub his thumb across Katsuki’s cheekbones, and that’s all it takes, that soft, acknowledging touch mixed with the feeling of his cock buried deep in Deku’s heat.
He comes with short, angry sounding grunts, pumping a few more times as he spills into Deku. His hips stutter into stillness, and he drops his forehead heavily to Deku’s sweaty chest. He shimmies so Deku’s legs fall from where they’re hooked over Katsuki’s shoulders, cock remaining inside.
Deku says nothing— spent and overwhelmed and limp. It’s so quiet that Katsuki can hear the light wind rustling the trees outside his window. He soaks in the noises of Deku trying to catch his breath, of the wet sounds of his mouth trailing across Deku’s chest as he plants kisses there. Finally, he pulls his softened cock out and hums at Deku’s whine, empathizing with him because there’s no part of Katsuki that wants the moment to end.
He lies flat on his back next to Deku, reaching a hand out to interlock their fingers. He silently pleads with Deku not to acknowledge it, and he doesn’t—at least not out loud. But Katsuki can see the smile out of the corner of his eyes and doesn’t miss the squeeze of Deku’s hand.
After a few minutes, Deku breaks the silence, always the first to speak after they do this.
“That was nice,” he states plainly, and Katsuki scoffs at the simplicity of the statement. “But I have to say I’m getting some mixed signals, Kacchan.”
Katsuki turns his head quickly and raises his voice. “Hah? Mixed signals? What's mixed about my cock being up your–”
“Not about that,” Deku laughs, turning his body towards Katsuki and kissing his knuckles where their hands are joined. “About my mouth. You keep telling me you hate it, but I’m not so sure.”
“Trust me, I fuckin’ hate it, Deku,” he scowls, knowing full well that he sounds completely unconvincing.
“No, I don’t think you do,” Deku taunts. Voice dropping a few octaves, he mocks, “I wanna hear you, De—”
At that, Katsuki snatches the pillow that’s underneath Deku’s head and shoves it into Deku’s face, smothering him enough that his words come out unintelligible.
“GODDAMN IT, SHUT UP,” Katsuki rages, turning away and pressing his own pillow to his exposed ear to block out Deku’s self-satisfied laughter.