Work Text:
It took about three and a half weeks for their schedules to line up properly. It’s a sensitive thing, they wanted to have a full day together and also more time to recover and be together afterwards. Hero work swallows them both so forcefully, Izuku and Katsuki can only manage two meet and greet dates, one of which involved a hurried blowjob outside an abandoned motel.
In that near month of time, Izuku cycled through multiple stages of emotional turmoil.
Anxiety regarding their plans. Anticipation, because oh, how he wants it. Confusion about needing it at all. Regret at exposing his most vulnerable needs. Relief that Kacchan was there for him, wants to be there for him. Excitement that it’s going to happen, as Kacchan and he determine the limits and boundaries and planned events.
And then it’s the morning of, and Izuku is breathlessly cleaning himself and then his apartment with his ears focused on hearing the knock on his door. Kacchan has keys, of course, but he always knocks before he enters anyway.
It’s respectful.
It makes Izuku’s heart flutter.
“Hi Kacchan,” he tries to say calmly, but his voice squeaks anyways.
“Hey.” Katsuki drops his bag at the foot of the couch. Their relationship isn’t new, they’ve loved one another since high school, and yet they stood there awkwardly like fools for a moment, a new tension between their bodies.
At least, until Izuku brings up his confidence enough to look Katsuki in the eyes and the equally awkward expression on his face relieves almost all his fears.
“I’m excited.” He confesses, crossing his living room in a few steps, basically throwing himself into Katsuki’s arms. Burying his face in a strong shoulder, Izuku soaks in Kacchan’s presence and his smell and his touch as those thick arms gather him tightly.
Katsuki lets out a short breath of air into his hair, pointy nose finding his scalp.
“Yeah, me too. You’re sure.” It’s not even a question at this point, the fifth-hundredth time he’s asked it.
“Very sure. I might be nervous, or a little shaky, but I want it so much. We’re researched and figured out what we’re going to do, so I’m sure. I know you can handle this too, Kacchan.” Izuku draws back to look into red eyes. It’s remarkable how he’s know this face all his life, and yet he never tires of looking at it. “I’m literally obsessed with you; you can’t do anything I wouldn’t want.”
A familiar smug smirk over an attractive face. Kacchan always likes hearing how much Izuku wants him.
Izuku thinks he doesn’t quite understand the gravity of what obsessed means. (He’s gotten better, as they grew older. Finally found himself-as-a-person, instead of himself-as-part-of-Kacchan). Being in a relationship with the man just allowed him to have unrestricted hours of obsessing.
“You’ve eaten?” Katsuki asks, and there’s no perceptible change in him, or his posture, yet Izuku’s breath stutters.
“N-no. I got too nervous and fixated on cleaning.”
“Hm.” A kiss to his forehead, and Izuku’s eyes fall closed. It’s a long kiss, slow and thoughtful. The kiss is the signal. Their signal that it all starts. And when Katsuki pulls back, Izuku has to remind himself to open his eyes again. That he can do that, is allowed to do that, under his own power.
Red drowns him.
“You’re going to eat. And you’re going to lick the plate clean.”
Izuku shivers. Lust boils. The order falls around him like a shroud, holding him together.
“Yes, Kacchan.”
After wordlessly pointing Izuku to his seat, Katsuki makes dinner like he normally does. Izuku admires his back, the shifting muscles under his black shirt, the smells that arise shortly after the pork starts to simmer. He hasn’t been told to do anything, so Izuku sits at the island with his hands in his lap and waits.
Usually he’d feel anxious, want to help, fidgeting. But right now, he’s got a job to do, and he’ll do it right.
“How did you sleep?” Katsuki asks, not looking around. He was trusting Izuku to stay still and wait patiently. It fills Izuku with something unnamable.
“Well, I woke up twice around four but fell back asleep around six.” For a few hours, he got out of bed at nine. Practically sleeping in, really.
“Did you dream?” Katsuki’s voice hasn’t changed, but Izuku feels it wrap around him all the same. Soft, relaxed, comfortable. Focused on his task but listening to Izuku’s words.
“I did.” He breathed, “we were in high school again, you were sitting in front of me at our desks. I wasn’t nervous though, or afraid, or worried.” Not like most of their high school career. “Everything was okay.” His throat tightens, making the words harder to say. They shouldn’t feel so momentous, those three words, but they do.
“Good.”
Izuku relaxes instantly, smiling foolishly at the island countertop. He blinks against tears, wondering where they came from and why they were leaving so quickly.
A plate of food arrives in front of his eyes, and a large hand clasps the back of his neck, lips on his temple.
“Remember what I said.”
Eat everything on his plate and lick it clean.
“Yes Kacchan.”
He licks the plate under Katsuki’s watchful eye. Dragging his tongue flat over the ceramic, he gets some sauce on his nose and wipes that off to lick up too. He places the clean plate back down and thrums with delight. He did it.
After dinner, Izuku is drying each piece of dishes meticulously, slower than he would usually because Katsuki’s taking his time washing every dish as well. He scrubs each plate and pan back and front, rinsing under a low stream of clear water before handing them to Izuku, trusting him to dry each one properly. Izuku takes to the task with incredible focus but feels no pressure. He wants to do good, and he knows he will, because Kacchan expects him to.
Then Katsuki gets to Izuku’s already clean plate, admiring it, every spec of food gone. Izuku holds his breath, lips curling into his mouth to be pinched between his teeth.
“Very good.” Katsuki praises, low and simple, dunking it under the water. Very Good. It thunders through Izuku like a herd of elephants. Gulping them back into his stomach, Izuku breathlessly makes sure Kacchan knows how much his praise means to him.
“Thank you, Kacchan.”
They finish the dishes in quiet silence. It’s meditative. It takes them twice as long to complete the dishes, but Izuku is thriving on the task, not impatient at all. Then they’re wiping down the kitchen, turning off the light, and Katsuki sits on the couch. He doesn’t point Izuku to where he should sit, because he already knows.
“Are you warm enough?”
“I’d like a blanket.”
Now Izuku sat at Katsuki’s feet, head on his knee, wrapped in a large dorky All-Might themed blanket, with a hand in his hair and his eyes drifting through the TV screen. With his legs folded up under him, slumped sideways against Katsuki’s leg, he’ll eventually get sore. Sitting on the floor isn’t good for his back, but he’s got a pleasant feeling in his whole body. His attention is focused on the fingers lightly threading through his hair, unknotting every strand. Everything is okay.
“You’re being so good.” Katsuki says to the television, watching some baking competition. The words fall over Izuku like a waterfall, and he sinks further into his position. He’ll do whatever Katsuki wants. He’ll become whoever Katsuki needs.
“Yes, Kacchan. Thank you, Kacchan.”
About an hour passes, but Izuku drifts through it. The show ends on some fabricated cliffhanger, the next one starting with all the drama and intensity as the last ended with. Katsuki yawns, once, and his hands finds its way to Izuku’s neck, holding him still.
Izuku realizes his own hands have curled around Katsuki’s ankle without permission. He considers apologizing, but Kacchan hasn’t said a word about it, so he takes it as a guilty achievement, a secret success. To his surprise, he hasn’t fallen asleep sitting here, with his face sinking into the flesh of Katsuki’s thigh. He’s not electrified or charged or aroused, but all his focus is on Katsuki’s every breath, on the way his hand feels like a close collar, keeping him together.
“Come here, Izuku.” Katsuki orders over the low murmur of chef contestants. His other hand taps at his inner thigh. Izuku’s slow to move, but does it, feeling like he was pushing through molasses. Eventually, he’s situated between Kacchan’s legs, head laying heavy and trusting over his lack, cheek on a covered, soft, cock. It’s so comfortable, and comforting.
He can’t quite look up at Katsuki without help from this angle, so he’s thankful for Kacchan’s cupping hands holding his skull, tilting his head so they can meet eyes.
“Where are you, Izuku?” Kacchan asks, one thumb over Izuku’s mouth to feel his lips move when he answers.
“With Kacchan.” He blinks, slowly, because Kacchan is watching and can make sure he opens his eyes again. There’s a curious lack of thought in his mind. He’s waiting for Kacchan to ask him things, to tell him what to think next.
“Do you know your colour?”
“Green, Kacchan.” He smiles sloppily against a petting thumb, thriving on the approving hum Katsuki responds with. The TV drones in the background, but Izuku can’t process any voice other than Kacchan’s.
“Good.” Kacchan pets him, over his whole face, drawing his eyes closed and pulling his mouth open with a finger on his lower teeth. “You’re going to put your mouth on me, but you’re not going to get me off. If you do a good job, I’ll reward you. Do you understand?”
The fire in Izuku’s belly alights.
“Yes, Kacchan.” He gasps around fingers, eyes going hazy, lost in a sudden rush of lust and want and the desire to be good, to do exactly what Kacchan wants, to make Kacchan feel good.
“Good boy, I want that mouth slutty and wet.” Hand sat his pants button, Katsuki works on getting his cock out, only half hard chub that hangs close to Izuku’s face and makes his mouth water. Good, wet and slutty, Kacchan says, he’ll do that, he wants to do that, oh he wants it so badly--
“Y-Yes Kacchan, yes, please,” Izuku stutters, shifting for Kacchan to have room to shove his pants down his thighs. Then with his hands crawling up Katsuki’s legs, he leans in close, head heavy on his neck, to put his mouth—
“No hands.” Katsuki says, firm, and it’s an order. Immediate, Izuku snaps his arms down, feeling foolish for bringing them up in the first place. He pants, hot breath washing over Katsuki’s cock, which twitches.
“Yes, Kacchan, sorry Kacchan. No hands—”
“Shush,” Katsuki hums, petting over his head again, thumb going to his mouth to stick in and push outward into his cheek. “You’re good, Izuku. Open.”
Izuku opens, eyes on red.
The first sink of Katsuki’s cock is almost overwhelming. But it’s also familiar, and comforting, and safe, and Izuku knows how to do this. He’ll be good.
Wet. Slutty. Don’t make him come. Give him pleasure, because Kacchan deserves pleasure, deserves Izuku giving his best.
He slurps, hands down between his own thighs, strangled, because he knows he’s not allowed to touch himself. No, that’s Kacchan’s job, when Kacchan wants to do it. He has to be good.
Moving his whole head to work spit up and then down and down Kacchan’ cock, Izuku zones out and decides he can memorize Kacchan’s dick from here. It’s taste. The feeling of his skin, the pulse of blood underneath. The way his thighs sigh open, and his head falls back, luxuriating in Izuku’s mouth. His good mouth.
With his mouth full, Izuku makes his tongue flatten tight to Kacchan’s underside, and it feels amazing when he pulls off, licking over the head, just to dive down again with the flat tongue bed. He has to strain to keep his teeth covered, Kacchan was big.
“Slow, baby. Slow.”
Izuku obeys, neck aching to slow himself down. His eyes lidded, Izuku watches Katsuki’s abdomen flex, catching sight of the base of Kacchan’s cock but, he’s not allowed to hold it, and he doesn’t want to let it go from his mouth, so he’s all ears to the way Kacchan grunts and sighs. He repeats the things that make him grunt, he softens the things that make Katsuki’s hand grip his hair tight.
Katsuki’s calves close around Izuku’s kneeling form. It’s like a hug, all over, and Izuku shivers, swooning.
He groans, whimpering it through his nose, and it makes Katsuki hiss through his teeth.
Slow.
Wet.
Slutty.
Izuku feels a hand cup his chin and follows the pull, trying to focus his eyes so he can see. Katsuki stares down at him, teeth gritted, the vein in his forehead prominent. He angles Izuku’s jaw for him and moves his head for him, and Izuku feels all senses of himself leave. Kacchan can use him. He’s all for Kacchan.
His ears lose the ability to hear for a while, his eyes formlessly trying to watch Kacchan, adoring and worshipful, and though he can feel how tired his mouth and tongue were getting, it doesn’t seem to matter.
And when Katsuki pulls him down so tight he can’t breathe, when his mouth meets the blonde, wiry hair at the base, the being that is Izuku-for-Kacchan just stares at red eyes and leaks tears.
Pulled off, Izuku’s mouth remains open, waiting for the cock to return.
Then his ears are told to listen, and they turn back on.
“Blink if you can hear me, baby.”
Izuku blinks, told to do it by Kacchan, and he opens his eyes with herculean effort.
Katsuki’s smiling.
“That’s good, you’ve done so good, baby. That was perfect.” Izuku swallows this praise like he’s taken all the others, a little drop of gold in a pool coveted and guarded in his heart. “A slutty mouth like that, you’re drooling. Did just as I wanted. Good.”
Izuku’s mouth moves, but his voice is gone.
“Shh, don’t speak.” Katsuki ducks over him, cock hard and wet and angry and ignored at the moment, because Katsuki was licking around Izuku’s mouth, gathering all the excess saliva and bringing it back to him, letting him swallow it all. Thank you, Kacchan.
He’s kissed, and it lets Izuku’s brain come back online just a little bit, Katsuki’s hands massaging down his arms, then his hips and legs, getting him up off the floor.
“What’s your colour.” Kacchan asks.
“Grn.” He mumbles, absently reaching up to tug his own hair, just in case he didn’t say it right.
“Good.” Two large, warm hands wrap their way around the back of his neck, cradling his whole head and taking all the weight.
The touch is incredible.
“I said a reward, didn’t I baby?” Katsuki says into his ear, breathing hard and rough, hands grasping Izuku’s ass and lifting so the man has no choice but to wrap his limbs all around him. Izuku feels spoiled, allowed to touch Kacchan back like this, and trustingly lets his head fall onto a tense shoulder, unable to grip back at all.
Kacchan’s strong, Izuku’s mind tells him, smug.
Kacchan’s taking him to the bedroom, Izuku’s mind squeals.
Kacchan wants to fuck you, Izuku’s body screams, he wants that too.
“Kacchan, Kacchan!” Izuku mumbles, the only word in his throat. Placed on the bed, Izuku is quickly stripped of the last of his clothing, his cock hard and ignored on his thigh and his whole body being devoured by Katsuki’s gaze. His pride-filled, soft gaze.
“You’re such a good boy for me, the best. The only one I need. Doing just what I say, what I want. Fucking perfect little boy, all mine. Mine to do what I want with. To. For.” The words are practiced, methodical, designed to put Izuku right into the perfect headspace and they work, Izuku falls straight into the happy mindset Katsuki wants him to.
With wide, trusting eyes, Izuku lays back and spreads his legs open, hands limp up by his head.
Katsuki thinks he’s actually going to float into the air soon. Or shudder into nothing but a skeleton of a man, starving for Izuku. Izuku’s skin feels different, feels better than it usually does (and it’s usually pretty fucking nice). His freckles, all over his body, are art, little spots of beauty that concentrate together to shin in Katsuki’s eyes. His every sigh is clear and open, he’s not hiding anything from Katsuki, nothing at all. He’s not thinking, either, Katsuki knows, looking up from where he’s sucking a hickey into the man’s knee to find green eyes hazy and unfocused, but on him. On Katsuki.
When they started all this, the discussions, the research, Katsuki didn’t think it was for him. Obviously, this was all for Izuku, so Izuku can let go, relax, feel safe and out of control instead of stressed.
Katsuki hadn’t quite understood the drive, he doesn’t have that switch in his brain that turns everything off except for wanting to please the other person (however Izuku described it, nervous and chewing through his lips).
“That’s my good boy.” He mumbles into a thick, muscled, scarred thigh. Izuku flops a bit, a short whine arising form his lips in answer, unable to make words but still wanting to thank Katsuki for the praise. It’s insane how Katsuki can know that now.
That’s my good boy. Izuku was his good boy. Katsuki’s. His. All his, all his, his to take care of, his to touch, and savor, and save, and lick all over, to stretch open all over so all he takes in is Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki.
Maybe this was doing something important for Katsuki too.
With his face buried in Izuku’s stomach, Katsuki takes a deep, deep breath. He needs to calm down. He can’t lose himself here. Izuku is trusting him, is entirely made of trust right this moment, incapable of anything else, unable to protect himself because that’s Katsuki’s job.
Yes. He had thought this was for Izuku, but he’s discovering all sorts of new things about himself right now too.
It appealed to him.
The dominant side of things, that is. Being the ‘dom’. Of course, he was the dominant, he was the best. He was the best at everything. Even sex, particularly sex with Izuku who’s literally his other half. But this isn’t just about sex. It felt a little silly at first, naming everything, setting up a plan, laying down rules that should be obvious, like, ‘don’t leave Izuku alone when he’s like this’.
But now, Katsuki understands and is so, so grateful for those rules, the plan, the extreme detail he and Izuku went through to work out this night.
Because, if Katsuki hadn’t had that plan to fall back on, he would have fumbled and screwed up right there at the start when Izuku’s eyes had gone soft and open, and he’d been so accepting of Katsuki’s every word and order.
Every time Katsuki had said he did good, Izuku melted into this different being Katsuki’s never met.
“Baby tastes good, love the taste.” And this was one step he had been unsure about, using the word Baby, calling Izuku ‘baby’ like it was his name. It had felt contrived, bringing it up when neither of them was aroused.
But he can’t call him Deku. Using Izuku was strategic, at the start, giving him praise, letting him take it into himself. Every single word, squirreled away and used like fuel. Allowing Izuku the ability to let go of his heroic persona, of being the nervous, thoughtful wreck he was normally. The smart quirk genius, who no longer needs to think at all, because Katsuki was handling it.
Because right now? Izuku was baby. He was just, Baby. Kacchan’s Baby.
“Kacc-han-nn,” Izuku moans, one of his own hands at his mouth to give it something to chew on, suck on, and Katsuki is taking his sweet time petting over his body, getting to know it like this, when he was free and open and sharing everything.
“You’ve been so good tonight, baby, you don’t need to do anything at all. I want you to feel it, what I’m doing. I’m going to put my fingers in you, baby, then my cock, and I’m going to fuck you until I come. You can come whenever you like, baby, however many times you want. Touch yourself if you want to, anywhere. You can touch me too.” Katsuki says to him, careful and slow because Izuku’s barely holding onto conscious thought.
“Y-yes, Kacchan,” Izuku says sweetly, overwhelmed and trusting and Katsuki’s going to rip himself to pieces trying to control the rush of love that just filled him.
Love, possession, want, desire, need.
Adoration, reverence, obsession.
He breathes out slowly, bringing the lube to Izuku to hold.
“Pour some on my fingers.” He says, a simple order, giving Izuku something to focus on. Giving his baby something physical to do, a chance to hold onto their time here together, to stay with Katsuki.
Izuku does, focusing hard with his bottom lip in between his teeth. Then he carefully caps the bottle and puts it away, looking back at Katsuki with wide eyes.
“Good boy.” Katsuki says, and watches the words sink into Izuku like they were physical. Katsuki swallows against a rising flood of something.
His mind is muddled. He’s…well, he is thinking clearly, but the thoughts are all tinged with a certain kind of presence, like he’s letting some part of himself that rarely gets noticed take control.
This part of himself is good with orders, makes them simple and short and easy to follow. Doable, for Izuku, who’s brain is unplugged, and can only manage the basic motions. This part of himself thrives on the wide-eyed look of worship Izuku gives him, savors the power over this other person, bears the weight of the responsibility to take care of him properly.
Katsuki barely remembers his name is Katsuki, when Izuku’s Kacchan was so prominent.
“You feel my fingers in you, baby?” he says to Izuku, whose eyelashes are fluttering. The hole he’s touching has been stretched already before he arrived, but he wants to spell Izuku into the belief that Kacchan’s the one who opens him up and takes him. Just Kacchan.
Izuku whimpers, whining, a broken little noise that he wouldn’t ever make in a regular day. It’s a little thin, a little unhinged. Left adrift in an ocean. The sound spears into Katsuki’s heart, and even though he knows he has Izuku safe and sound, he wants him safer.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Katsuki soothes, other hand reaching up to pet his cheek and chin despite the way his fingers were working him open wider and wider. “Remember, baby, I don’t want you to force yourself to do anything, I don’t want you to control yourself, or speak when you don’t want to. Let me do that, okay? Kacchan’s handling it.” He breathes it out, leaning in to kiss Izuku, pulling him into a good position, curled up in the pillows, one shoved under his hips, pulling his fingers out of his hole and clasping his hip and leaving a lubed handprint.
Katsuki doesn’t know what Izuku’s feeling. He can guess, he knows what Izuku told him he will likely feel, but looking at him now, he’s the most basic instinctual parts of himself. Katsuki feels like he’s finally seeing all of Izuku.
All the parts of him that he normally keeps hidden, because to leave them out and exposed is dangerous, could hurt him.
Kacchan has him.
Kacchan will keep his secrets safe.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Katsuki breathes against Izuku’s mouth, kissing lightly, unwilling to draw back to look where he was guiding his cock. He finds Izuku’s ass cheeks, then his hole, feeling by touch and pushing inside with his full weight, eyes open to watch the change take over Izuku’s face.
The first thrust in always takes Izuku over. It travels through his body, pauses his thoughts, flattens his features into this awed, stunned look. Soothes Katsuki’s ego, obviously, but also feeds his greed.
This first time inside feels different, because when Izuku opens his eyes, he’s Kacchan’s baby, and nothing else is present. He’s feeling good, wanted, safe, fucked. He’s waiting for Kacchan to take him, to do what he likes.
“Good boy.” Katsuki whispers it, kissing a slack mouth and thrilled with the sloppy, drunk smile he gets in response.
Izuku probably doesn’t even care right now about getting off. All of his body, his brain, all of it was luxuriating in Katsuki’s attentions, in Katsuki feeling good being inside him.
Katsuki thought it would make him feel selfish. Like he was using Izuku for his own pleasure, not for Izuku’s.
But right now?
Izuku is for his pleasure. Izuku wants to give himself to Kacchan, wants to be what Kacchan needs.
And he is.
“You’re exactly what I need, doing exactly right, baby, you feel so good on me.” Katsuki says into a freckled cheek, cock moving in a slow, steady drag inside, Izuku’s legs tightening into a curl, holding Katsuki’s steady atop him. He feels so damn good.
Izuku moans, low, formless. It’s a dumb sound, animal, and it’s beautiful.
“That’s it, that’s good, baby. I’m going to have you until I come.” Katsuki puts his forehead to Izuku’s, curling one arm around his hitched leg, opening him up further, and he loves Izuku’s sudden cry of need when his new, faster thrust catches just slightly over his prostate. “I want you to feel good.”
Izuku scrambles at the pillows, at Katsuki, and cries out through it, crying in truth with tears draining down his cheeks, smiles crawling over his mouth here and there, enjoying the moment, enjoying everything Katsuki was giving him.
There was nothing else for Izuku. No world to worry about, no people to save. Just Katsuki, just giving himself to Katsuki.
It’s so good. It’s so good.
It’s so powerful.
Katsuki fucks harder, kissing and breathing hotly in turn, unable to pull further away than just a few inches, fucking so hard his hips sting.
“You’re mine.” Katsuki pants, sudden and blurted like the truth often is. “You’re mine, all mine. Just perfect for me.” As he says it, he believes it more and more. Shifting onto his knees, Katsuki captures Izuku’s legs and pulls them tight together, clutching the thighs to his chest and staring down at Izuku, the way his body was flailing, the way – oh – the way his come smeared over his stomach and abdomen.
Izuku’s come already, at least once.
Katsuki hadn’t noticed, but he’s noticing now.
“Perfect,” He groans, tight and wild and every nerve in his body singing with the pleasure of it, his cock hot and wet inside. “You did perfect, baby, just what I asked, you did what you wanted. You came, all over yourself, for me, that’s so good.” Izuku cries out, hands at his own face, pinkies hooking into his own mouth, he looks insane, he looks slutty, and it’s perfect. “Doing just what you want to do, thinking nothing but me, baby, you’re so good, you’re so fucking good, baby, so perfect –”
Katsuki’s muttering, he’s muttering like Izuku, and Kacchan is fucking him so hard he’s being jolted up the bed, weighing more and more of himself over Izuku’s legs, Katsuki’s fucking like an animal, balls swinging to clap on Izuku’s cheeks.
Izuku’s legs are fighting to part, so Katsuki lets him, and he’s swarmed by Izuku, legs snapping tight around his middle, arms capturing him down to his mouth so he leaves these sloppy, wet kisses on his lips and his chin and anywhere he can reach and Katsuki’s coming.
“Fuck!” He snarls, overcome, gripping Izuku hard to take his final slaps inside, his thrusts bordering on painful as he uses all his leverage to shove in. “Fuck, baby, that’s good, fuck, coming—”
Izuku’s eyes roll back and he’s coming too, ignored cock tight between them, his hips weakly wiggling to give him some kind of friction, and he’s crying into Katsuki’s open mouth, shattered into nothing.
With a wave of pleasure dimming, Katsuki fights to get air, pets over Izuku’s hair, holding him tight because he’s about to fly to pieces.
Kacchan knows what to do.
With his mouth near Izuku’s ear, Katsuki whispers truths into that ear, whispers how good he was, how much Kacchan liked what he did, all the things he did for Kacchan being perfect and right, and just what he needed.
Eventually, Izuku’s hitching breath stutters out, and while Katsuki carefully doesn’t pull out, feeling like that would send him adrift let alone Izuku, he does ease Izuku over so his legs can straighten, his back can fall against Katsuki’s chest, arms crossed in front of his own and tugged tightly to him by Katsuki’s hug. Safe.
“That’s my baby, my Izuku. Perfect for me. Just perfect. You did good for Kacchan, I loved it. I love you.” Katsuki says, easy as breathing, into Izuku’s neck, kissing there, shivering from cold and from the sudden drop after sex like that.
Blankets. Katsuki yanks and tugs until the duvet is awkwardly thrown over them, though they weigh down the middle. He feels shaky himself, like he’s on the verge of falling to pieces after ripping out all the threads that keep him together.
“Kacchan,” Izuku says, whispering it. Katsuki’s glad for the low light of the lamp, it casts the shadows of Izuku’s lashes over his cheeks and turns his green eyes dark amber gold. “My Kacchan, my Kacchan.”
“Your Kacchan, baby, you did so good. I’m so proud of you.” It feels odd to say such a thing, but it was so true. Izuku did so great, did everything perfectly. He’s Katsuki’s baby.
It takes about thirty minutes, more time that the actual fucking took, for Izuku to stop shivering, for the ragged edges of Katsuki to seal themselves back up.
And eventually, he shifts, cock sliding away, Izuku turns around so they face one another, and Katsuki presses a long, slow kiss to the middle of Izuku’s forehead.
The signal that it was over.
Izuku sighs, licking his lips slowly. He’s leaking out of his ass, Kacchan’s spend, his stomach is itchy with dried come, and his back does ache a little. He wants a bath. He wants a bath with Kacchan, and to cuddle until they both fall asleep. Kacchan will hate it, he hates baths.
“Okay?” Katsuki asks, and even though Izuku’s known him all his life, Katsuki seems different now.
The gathered sensation of being Baby, of being Kacchan’s baby, hasn’t quite left entirely, but Izuku can look at it now. Can remember every second, even the parts where his brain turned off and he was just reacting, and Izuku shivers.
“I’m okay. That was very good Kacchan. Very, very good.” Izuku’s a little ashamed, because just saying it makes him tear up, eyes watering and mouth twisting and he sniffles, swallowing a sob.
Katsuki nudges his nose against him, kissing lightly, shushing him.
“It was intense,” Katsuki says, low, forgiving, “you can cry.”
Izuku hiccups, and he laughs at the same time.
“It’s not a bad cry.”
“Good. You did good.” Then Katsuki’s eyebrows twitch at the words. It’s almost like they’re too sensitive to hear it. Maybe he also is having a hard time letting go of it.
“You did good too.” He’s watery and smiling, and Katsuki kisses him, and Izuku kisses back. It feels good, to kiss him as Izuku. It feels good, too, to hitch one leg up and around Katsuki’s hip, and wrap his arms around him. Because Izuku is deciding to do that, not Kacchan’s baby.
“I should have asked your color a few times more. I lost the thought of it when we got to the bedroom.” Katsuki clears his throat, petting down Izuku’s back. “You stopped talking to me unless I spoke to you, too, I didn’t know that. Couple of things we both should have thought of ahead of time, huh Deku?”
Deku. Its jarring to hear it after so long being buried under all of Kacchan’s love and affection, but it also feels good. Like Katsuki is replacing the floor under his feet, giving him something to stand on. His chest is full, that golden pool turned into a sloshing ocean ready to keep him satiated and safe for as long as it continues to move, breaking waves upon his soul.
“I never thought it would have taken me over so fast.” Izuku confirms, petting over blond eyebrows and over red eyes. It relieves something in Katsuki’s face, Izuku’s touch on him. “Honestly, it’s vanilla compared to some of the stuff we read about, but…wow.” He breathes out, drawing the shape of Katsuki’s mouth.
“Yeah. Fucking wow.” Katsuki blows out a breath, before falling onto his back, tugging the duvet free from around them. The rush of colder air is refreshing. “We’re dirty as hell.”
“Bath.”
“What?”
“It’s bath time.” Izuku smiles at him brightly.
“I am absolutely not sitting in your sweat juice.” Katsuki glares at him in disgust.
They’re back to themselves. Stronger than ever.
“You absolutely for sure are.”